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 John Bunyan 
 
 WILLIAM p. NIMMO, 
 
 LONDON, 14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, 
 AND EDINBURGH,
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 AND 
 
 HOLY WAR. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN B U K Y A N. 
 
 WILLIAM F. NIMMO: 
 LOIvDON : 14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAlxD 
 AND EDINBURGH. 
 
 1875
 
 ('rawford & M'Cabe, Printers, 15 Queen Street, Edinbnrgh.
 
 SHun 
 
 ^Y:i<j^Nb<^ 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 English literature can hardly boast of a more remark- 
 able man than John Bunyan. He had Kttle education, 
 he was born of poor parents, and followed a sordid 
 calling ; his fierce spiritual experiences woiild have 
 driven almost any other man to suicide or a madhouse ; 
 the Bible and Foxe's " Book of Martyrs " were almost 
 the only books with which he was acquainted ; he spent 
 a considerable portion of his life in prison ; yet his 
 writings have been translated into every civilised lan- 
 guage j they have passed through countless editions ; and 
 at the present day, and in his own land, he is better 
 known and more extensively read than even Shake- 
 speare. Tastes have changed, literary reputations have 
 waxed and waned ; but nothing has been able to affect 
 his popularity. And when we think what he has done, 
 and what coarse materials and rude tools were given 
 him to work Avith, we are disposed to pronounce the 
 faculty of the man little less than miraculous. Out of 
 a hard, dingy, distained life arose his Dream, like a 
 glittering hall of glass filled with the most wonderful 
 objects ; and therein, for several generations, not only 
 children, but grown men, have delighted to wander. 
 His popularity is perhaps greater than that of any other 
 English writer. The " Pilgrim's Progress " is suited to 
 every season of human life — chUdhood, youth, man- 
 hood, and old age. 
 
 John Bunyan was born at Elstow, near Bedford, in
 
 IV JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 1628, "of a low, inconsiderable generation," he tells us ; 
 " my father's house being of that rank that is meanest 
 and most despised of all the families in the land." 
 Like his father, he followed the calling of a tinker. He 
 was sent to school for a short period, where he did 
 not learn much, and that little, after he left, he con- 
 trived to lose " almost utterly." As a boy, he appears 
 to have been wild and reckless, given over to sports and 
 thoughtlessness, and a proficient in the art of profane 
 swearing. In his habits, perhaps, he did not differ 
 much from the lads who surrounded him. But he 
 differed from them vastly in this — that his conscience 
 was morbidly acute, and that over him imagination 
 held terrible dominion. Voices reproached him in 
 di'eams for his iniquities, devils and evil spirits peered 
 upon hitn, the splendour of heaven alternated with the 
 terror of tophet ; and in his waking moments he was 
 frequently overcome with despair, and gave utterance to 
 the wish that he had never been born. Then, in the 
 midst of his wickedness, as he approached manhood, 
 he had been brought near to death, and had been mer- 
 cifully preserved. On one occasion he fell into a creek 
 of the sea, on another he fell out of a boat into the 
 river Ouse — narrowly escaping with life each time. 
 One day an adder crossed his path, and after stunning 
 it with his stick, he opened its mouth, and with his 
 fingers plucked out its fangs. " By which act, had not 
 God been merciful unto me, I might by my desperate- 
 ness have brought myself to my end." But his crown- 
 ing mercy occurred while he was serving as a soldier 
 in the Parliamentary army. He was drawn for the 
 siege of Leicester, — a companion volunteered in his 
 stead, and shortly after, the substitute, while acting 
 as a sentry, was shot through the head with a mus- 
 ket-baU. These escapes made a strong impression on 
 Bunyan's mind, and threw a deeper terror into his 
 dreams, and lent a sharper remorse to his waking 
 thoughts.
 
 JOHN BUN Y AX. V 
 
 After the deatli of tis substitute at tlie siege oi 
 Leicester, Bunyan married, and had the good fortune to 
 fix his affections on a young woman who had been 
 reared in a godly family. His wife brought with her — 
 her sole marriage-portion — several religious books, which 
 Bunyan read with so much profit, that he determined to 
 reform his evU life. He went to church twice on Sun- 
 days, and listened attentively to the sermon. One day 
 the minister preached against the sin of Sabbath-break- 
 ing, and Bunyan's conscience was awakened. He went 
 home, had dinner, and to some extent recovered his 
 composure of mind. In the afternoon, while engaged 
 in the game of cat, — for in these Puritanic times such 
 recreations were allowed, — a voice from heaven, as it 
 seemed, suddenly darted into his soul, saying, " Wilt 
 thou leave thy sins, and go to heaven? or have thy sins, 
 and go to hell 1 " At this he was in great amazement : 
 he left his cat on the ground, and looking upward, 
 beheld, as with the eyes of Ms understanding, the Lord 
 Jesus looking down upon him sorely displeased. This 
 circumstance threw him into a state of spiritual distress 
 and perturbation, despair came back upon him, and he 
 regarded himself as one of the lost. In spite of all, he 
 did not relinquish his follies ; for about a month after, 
 while cursing and swearing, he was sharply rebuked by 
 a woman who heard him, — herself not of the highest 
 character for morality, — and told that he was an ungodly 
 fellow, who was enough, by his example, to spoil the 
 youth of the whole town. This rebuke, coming from 
 the quarter it did, touched Bunyan keenly, and he re- 
 solved to give up the use of expletives, and seems to 
 have done so with an ease that somewhat astonished 
 himself. 
 
 His reformation now proceeded rapidly. He was 
 fond of bell-ringing ; but this amusement he began to 
 suspect was sinful, and he would not touch a rope. 
 Still the bells had attractions, and he used to go and 
 look at the ringers, and listen to the music. Then he
 
 nu JOHN BUN Y AN. 
 
 people. The trutli is, his conscience was morbidly acute, 
 his imagination was morbidly developed. Neither in 
 his day nor in our own could beU-ringing be considered 
 a breach of the decalogue ; at no time was dancing on 
 the village green counted anything worse than an act 
 of thoughtlessness, or a mere superabundance of ani- 
 mal spirits, yet in Bunyan's excited mood these things 
 were Little less than crimes. It must be remembered, 
 also, that when he regards himself as so culpable, he 
 does so in the light of the Divine purity, not when 
 he places himself in contrast with the good people who 
 surrounded him. And it is curious, that, when he was 
 afterwards charged with profligacy, he meets the charge 
 with indignant denial ; and takes heaven and earth to 
 witness that profligate he was not, and during the whole 
 course of his life had never been. The man who abases 
 himself before his Maker, and cries out, " Unclean, un- 
 clean," may lift his brow boldly amongst his fellows and 
 assert his rectitude. In the one case, Bunyan was humble ; 
 in the other case, he could afibrd to be proud. Out of his 
 depths of spiritual experience we can see how we have be- 
 come the gainers. Not for himself alone was he so wretch- 
 ed that "the very stones in the street, and tiles upon the 
 houses, did band themselves against" him; not for him- 
 self was he " so taken with the love and mercy of God, 
 that he thought he could have spoken of it even to the 
 very crows that sat upon the ploughed lands'* before 
 him, had they been capable to have understood him. In 
 these things we also have some share ; fol into the 
 gloomy mood did he dip his pencil when he depicted 
 the Valley of the Shadow of Death for us, and into the 
 happy mood when he painted the Delectable Mountains. 
 A tinker walking through loamy Bedfordshire, and who 
 has been in his grave for nearly a couple of centuries, 
 felt despair and rapture, and the issues remain to this 
 day, and will remain for many days to come. We can 
 Bee how deeply the " Pilgrim's Progress" is rooted in all 
 the mental struggles which took place at this time.
 
 JOHN BUKYAlif. IX 
 
 In tlie attaiDing of spiritual peace, Bunyan suffered 
 much ; but when once attained, he seems never to have 
 lost it. With his soul at rest, in the possession of a 
 happy calm, he was able to apply himself to work ; and 
 the work now given him to do was quite other than the 
 tinkering of pots and pans. During his spiritual strife 
 — through the agency of the pious women he had heard 
 so strangely conversing before their doors, in the sun 
 — he connected himself with the Baptist congregation 
 over which Mr Gifford presided, and drew from his 
 ministrations comfort and solace. Mr Gifford died, 
 however ; and the year after, at a meeting of the congre- 
 gation, it was resolved that those of the brethren to 
 whom the gift had been given should address the people 
 for mutujil edification. Amongst others selected for 
 this duty was Bunyan, and with much modesty and 
 trembling of spirit he began his work. From usage 
 and success he gradually acquired confidence, and finally 
 — the meeting having now a regular pastor — he was 
 appointed to wander through the surrounding villages 
 as an itinerant preacher. In his itinerancy he was 
 eminently successful, and crowds came to hear him. 
 We can fancy with what effect he would discourse, 
 in farms and by hedgerows, of the world to come — how 
 the glow of his own fiery experiences would break out 
 here and there, to astonish and subdue his hearers — 
 how, through that wonderful fancy of his, he would 
 draw illustrations from everything surrounding him — 
 the joists in the rude roofings of barns, the dusty pillars 
 of light which streamed in through the narrow windows ; 
 or, when outside, from the ewes and lambs in the field, 
 and from the lark, which, like a grateful spirit, went up 
 to heaven with its song. Bunyan's success seems to 
 have awaked dissatisfaction in many quarters ; and while 
 some maligned him, and threw aspersions on his moral 
 character, — aspersions which he met with indignant 
 denial, — others were desirous to refurbish old acts and 
 statutes against him, and to shut him up from preaching
 
 X JOHN BUNYAiS. 
 
 aitogetlier. An indictment was in 1657 preferred 
 against him at the assizes for preaching at Eaton, but 
 no result appears to have been arrived at. A few 
 months after the Restoration, however, he was arrested 
 at a private religious meeting at Samsell, in Bedford- 
 shire, carried before the justice, and committed to 
 Bedford Jail, to remain there till the holding of the 
 Quarter Sessions. The sessions came on seven weeks 
 thereafter, and Bnnyan was formally indicted as one 
 who " devilishly abstained from coming to church to 
 hear divine service ; and who was a common upholder of 
 several unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great 
 disturbance and distraction of the good subjects of this 
 kingdom." Bunyan declared that he was a frequenter 
 of the church of God, but admitted that he did not 
 tittend the parish church, because that in the Bible he 
 could nowhere find that he was commanded so to do. 
 A rather vsharp passage of arms occurred between Bun- 
 yan and the justice, with the result that he was re- 
 mitted to prison for three months, and that at the end of 
 that period, if he did not submit to go to church and to 
 desist from preaching, he would be banished the realm. 
 At the expiry of three months, the clerk of the peace, by 
 the desire of the magistrates, made a visit to discover 
 to what declsif)n he had come. Bunyan was resolute, 
 insisting that he had in no way contravened the law, 
 and intimating that he could in no way promise to 
 abstain from preaching, and he was accordingly left 
 where he was. After the coronation of Charles, when 
 the assizes came round, his wife — his second wife now, 
 the first having died — presented a petition on behalf 
 of her husband to the judges, one of whom was Sir 
 Matthew Hale. Sir Matthew was anxious to aid the 
 poor woman, but she would not admit that her husband 
 had in any w^ay broken the law. " Will your husband 
 leave preaching?" said Judge Twisdon ; "if he will do 
 so, then send for him." " My lord," said she, " he 
 dares not leave preaching so long as he can speak."
 
 JOHN BUNYAN. XI 
 
 There was, of course, no help for it. Bunyan was left 
 in prison, and there he remained twelve years. His 
 jailer was, however, a humane man, and Bunyan was 
 allowed to go about the country very much at his own 
 will, visiting the Baptist congregations, which were scat- 
 tered here and there, and preaching to them. On one 
 occasion he went to London — a bold and indiscreet act, 
 which brought the hand of authority down on the jailer, 
 and which made Bunyan's continement much more 
 strict. 
 
 While in prison, Bunyan was sustained with the 
 thought that he was suffering for conscience' sake ; and 
 when confronted with authority, he always wore a bold 
 and resolute spirit. But in solitude he had his own 
 weak moments and melting moods. More especially 
 when he thought of his family, his heart bled. They 
 were poor, and in his confinement he supported them 
 by making tagged laces. One of his children, a girl, 
 was blind, and over her did the strong heart of the man 
 melt and yearn as did Jacob's over Benjamin. There is 
 something strangely tender in the following sentences : 
 — " The parting with my wife and poor children hath 
 often been to me, in this place, as the pulling the flesh 
 from my bones ; and that not only because I am some- 
 what too fond of these great mercies, but also because I 
 should have often brought to my mind the many hard- 
 ships, miseries, and wants that my poor family are like 
 to meet with, should I be taken from them ; especially 
 my poor blind child, who lay nearer my heart than all 
 besides. Oh, the thoughts of the hardships I thought 
 my poor blind one might go under, would break my 
 heart to pieces ! Poor child ! thought I, what sorrow 
 art thou like to have for thy portion in this world ! 
 Thou must be beaten ; must beg ; sufler hunger, cold, 
 nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot 
 now endure that the wind should blow upon thee 1 But 
 yet, recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all 
 with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you.
 
 Xll JOHX BUNYAN. 
 
 Oh, I saw in this condition I was as a man who was 
 pulling down his house upon the heads of his wife and 
 children ; yet, thought I, I must do it, I must do it." 
 We are not led to understand that Bunyan's imprison- 
 ment was in any special degree oppressive. His jailer, 
 as we have seen, was kinder than comported with duty; 
 he was supported by the approval of his conscience, and 
 in due time he fell on dreams — such dreams as had 
 seldom blessed the human spirit since the wandering 
 Jacob made his pillow of the stone in Bethel, and saw 
 angels ascending and descending. His captivity was 
 softened by the composition of the "Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress." His old accesses of horror and despair, his 
 old sudden sun-bursts of peace and joy, when he could 
 have talked to the crows on the ploughed Bedford- 
 shire fields, had lost their original sharpness and intensity, 
 and had become fitted for artistic purposes. Green 
 experience is of as little use to the poet as green 
 wood is to the carpenter — both must be laid aside till 
 they are seasoned. Bunyan endured hardship, no 
 doubt, in Bedford Jail ; but with the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress " on hand, one finds it hard to pity him. Not 
 only the rude-faced and friendly jailer waited on him, 
 but angels also. The fair maidens Prudence, Piety, and 
 Charity smiled upon him. The walls of his prison- 
 house were wonderful landscape transparencies. He 
 was no longer solitary. The Interpreter shewed him 
 emblems. He heard the conversation of Christian and 
 Faithful while they journeyed. Vanity Fair roared 
 around him. The Shepherds talked with him on the 
 pleasant mountains. The splendour of the Celestial City 
 was apparent afar off". The narrow cell became in some 
 measure a king's chamber ; the finest servitors did him 
 reverence; he gave audience to the noblest company; and 
 the silence of the day and night was broken by instru- 
 ments and voices — the voices of those who sans on 
 golden streets, and the strings of heavenly harpers. 
 Bunyan's mind was a Idtogdom ; but of its splendour
 
 JOHN fJUNYAN. Xlll 
 
 and extent he was ignorant, till once the prison-key 
 was turned on him. 
 
 He remained in prison twelve years, — never perhaps 
 subjected to very close confinement, — and was released 
 at length on the recommendation, it is understood, of 
 the Bishop of Lincoln and other Churchmen. The con- 
 gregation to which he was attached chose him as their 
 pastor, and built a new meeting-house for him, where 
 he preached to large audiences. He visited London 
 once a-year or so, and his intention to preach in the 
 metropolis was advertised — very much as Mr Spurgeon s 
 intention to preach in the provinces is advertised at the 
 present day. As a preacher, he was popular. "The 
 meeting-house at Southvvark, at which he generally 
 preached, would not hold half the number that attended. 
 Three thousand persons have been gathered together there, 
 on Sundays, and not less than twelve hundred on week 
 days and dark winter mornings at seven o'clock." During 
 the sixteen years that intervened between his release 
 from Bedford Jail and his death, he lived a busy life, 
 preaching continually, sometimes engaging in contro- 
 versy, — in which he always gave more than he got, — and 
 publishing tracts and books. The last-recorded act of 
 his life was charitable and humane. A friend of his in 
 Beading had resolved to disinherit his son : the son re- 
 quested Bunyan to be his advocate. Bunyan consented, 
 and succeeded ; but, on his return to London on horse- 
 back, he was caught in heavy rain, which brought on a 
 fever, that in ten days proved fatal. He was buried 
 in Bunhill Fields ; and a simple stone, setting forth his 
 age and the date of his death, and adorned by a rude 
 couplet, was erected over his remains. 
 
 Bunyan was a voluminous writer ; and if he had 
 never penned the " Pilgrim's Progress," his name would 
 be remembered in our literature. His " Grace Abound- 
 ing," in which he describes his spiritual experiences, is 
 one of the most striking of autobiographies. The subject- 
 matter — that of a human soul struggling towards light
 
 XIV JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 and peace, often beaten back, yet at the last victorious — 
 is of the deei^est interest to the psychologist and the 
 Christian, and the style has all the particularity and 
 vividness of Defoe. His verses are rough enough in 
 structure, but an honest and definite meaning is always 
 found shining through the rude couplets. " The Holy 
 War," again, is an admirable work of its class, and 
 would be, as Lord Macaulay observes, the best allegori- 
 cal performance in the language, if the " Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress " had never been written. It is of course on the 
 " Progress " that Bunyan's fame rests. On its publica- 
 tion it made no great stir, but in a short time it became 
 popular, and edition after edition was called for and 
 eagerly devoured by the obscure portions of society. 
 It irradiated the rude lives of the Christians of the 
 seventeenth and eighteenth centuries ; it gradually 
 worked its way upwards ; it began to be printed upon 
 better paper, to be adorned with plates very different 
 from its first coarse woodcuts ; and, finally, it has taken 
 its place in the libraries of the rich, as well as on the 
 shelf of the cottager ; and Bunyan, whose name Cowper 
 was afraid to mention lest he should be laughed at, is 
 regarded by a critical age as one of the greatest natural 
 geniuses of the world. His Dream has been edited by 
 a poet-laureate, and his biography has been written by 
 the last and greatest of om* historiana.
 
 SHi: 
 
 PILGRIM'S PEOGEESS 
 
 KROM 
 
 THIS AYOULD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME, 
 
 DELTVERED 
 
 UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DEEAM: 
 
 WHEEEIN IS DISCOVERED 
 
 THE MANNER OF HIS SETTING OUT, HIS DANGEROtTS JOURNEY, 
 
 AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. 
 
 "I have used similitudes."— Hos. xiL 10.
 
 TFIE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY 
 
 rOPv HIS BOOK. 
 
 When at tlie first I took my pen in hand 
 Thus for to write, T did not understand 
 Tliat I at all should make a little book 
 In suck a mode ; nay, I had undertook 
 To make another; which, when almost doni*. 
 Before I was aware, I this begun. 
 
 And thus it was : I, writing of the way 
 And race of saints, in this our gosi^el day, 
 Fell suddenly into an aUegoiy 
 About then' 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 T, if that you breed so fast- 
 I '11 put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out 
 The book that T already am about. 
 
 Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think 
 To shew to all the world my pen and ink 
 In such a mode ; I only thought to make 
 I knew not what : nor did I undertake 
 Thereby to please my neighbour : no, not I ; 
 I did it my own self to gratify.
 
 THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 
 
 Neitlier 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 Avith delight, 
 And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 
 For, having now my method by the end, 
 Still aa I puU'd, it came ; and so I penn'd 
 It down : until it came at last to be. 
 For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. 
 
 Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, 
 I shew'd them others, that I might see whether 
 They would condemn them, or them justify : 
 And some said. Let them live ; some, Let them die 
 Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not so : 
 Some said, It might do good ; others said, No. 
 
 Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
 Which was the best thing to be done by me : 
 At last I thought. Since you are thus divided, 
 I print it will, and so the case decided. 
 
 For, thought I, some, I see, would have it done, . 
 Though others in that channel do not run : 
 To prove, then, who advised for the best. 
 Thus I thought fit to piit it to the test. 
 
 I fiu-ther 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 woidd to them be great delight. 
 
 For those which were not for its coming forth, 
 I said to them. Offend you I am loath, 
 Yet, since yoiu' brethren pleased with it be, 
 Forbear to judge tUl you do further see. 
 
 If that thou wiit not read, let it alone ; 
 Soms love the meat, some love to pick the bone. 
 Yea, that I might them better palliate, 
 I did too with them thus expostulate : — 
 
 Llay I not write in such a stylo as this ?
 
 THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 
 
 In siicli a metliocl, too, and yet not miss 
 
 My end — ^thy good ? Why may it not be done ? 
 
 Dark clouds bring waters, ■wben the briglit bring none. 
 
 Yea, dark or bright, if tliey their silver drops 
 
 Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops. 
 
 Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either. 
 
 But treasures xip the fruit they yield together ; 
 
 Yea, so commixes both, that in her fruit 
 
 None can distinguish this from that : they suit 
 
 Her "weU "when hungry ; but, if she be full. 
 
 She spews out both, and makes their blessuigs nidi. 
 
 You see the ways the fisherman doth take 
 To catch the fish ; what engines doth he make ! 
 Behold how he engageth all his wits j 
 Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets ; 
 Yet fislx there be, that neither hook, nor line, 
 Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine : 
 They must bo groped for, and be tickled too, 
 Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do. 
 
 How does the fowler seek to catch his game 
 By divers means I aU 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 aU his postures ? Yet there 's none of these 
 WUl make him master of what fowls he please. 
 Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this ; 
 Yet, if he does so, that bird he will miss. 
 
 If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, 
 And may be found too in an oyster-sheU ; 
 If things that promise nothing do contain 
 What better is than gold ; who wiU disdain, 
 That have an mkling of it, there to look, 
 That they may find it ? Now, my little book 
 (Though void of all these paintings that may maks 
 It with this or the other man to take) 
 Is not without those things that do excel, 
 ^Vhat do in brave but empty notions dwelL
 
 THR author's apology. 
 
 " ■''''cll, yet 1 am not fully satisfied, 
 Tlvdt this your book will stand, when 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, 
 IMake truth to spangle and its rays to shine. 
 "But they want solidness." Speak, man, thy mind. 
 " They drown the weak ; metaphors make ns blind." 
 
 Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen 
 Of him that writeth things divine to men ; 
 But must T needs want solidness, because 
 By metaphors I speak ? Were not God's laws, 
 His gospel laws, in olden times held forth 
 By types, shadows, and metaphors ? Yet loath 
 Will any sober man be to find fault 
 With them, lest he be found for to assault 
 The highest wisdom. No, he rather stoops. 
 And seeks to find out what by jiins and loops. 
 By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams. 
 By biixls and herl^s, and by the blood of lambs, 
 God speaketh to him ; and happy is he 
 That finds the light and gi-ace that in them be. 
 
 Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude 
 That I want solidness — that I am rude ; 
 All things solid in show not solid be ; 
 All things in parables despise not we ; 
 Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, 
 And things that good are, of our soids bereave, 
 My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold 
 The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. 
 
 The prophets used much by metaphors 
 To set forth truth ; yea, who so considers 
 Chriet, 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^
 
 THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 
 
 Is every wliere 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 dai-kest 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 toe. 
 
 May we but stand before impartial men, 
 To his poor one I dare adventm-e ten, 
 That they will take my meaning in these lines 
 Far better than his lies in silver shrines. 
 Come, truth, although in swaddling clouts, I find, 
 Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind ; 
 Pleases the understanding, makes the will 
 Submit ; the memory too it doth fill 
 With what doth our imaginations x)lease : 
 Likewise it tends our troubles to appease. 
 
 Sound words, I laiow, 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 j)earls, and precious stones tL.;t 
 
 wei'c 
 Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. 
 
 Let me add one word more. O man of God, 
 Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had 
 Put forth my matter in another dress ? 
 Or, that I had in tilings been more express ? 
 Three things let me propound j then I submit 
 To those that are my betters, as is fit. 
 
 1. I find not that I am denied the use 
 Of this my method, so I no abuse 
 Put on the words, things, readers ; or be rude 
 In handling figure or similitude, 
 In application ; but, all that I may, 
 Seek the advance of truth this or that wav.
 
 THE author's apology. 
 
 Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave 
 (Example too, and tliat from them that have 
 God better pleased, by their words or ^yays, 
 Than any man that breatheth now-a-days) 
 Thiis to express my mind, thus to declare 
 Thinfi's unto thee that exceUentest are. 
 
 O 
 
 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write 
 Dialogue-wise ; yet no man doth them slight 
 For writing so : indeed, if they abuse 
 Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use 
 To that intent ; but yet let truth be free 
 To make her sallies upon thee and me, 
 Which way it pleases God ; for who knows how. 
 Better than He that taught us fii'st to plough, 
 To guide oiu- mind and pens for His design ? 
 And He makes base things usher in divine. 
 
 o. I find that holy Avrit 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 
 Iilake it cast forth its rays as light as day. 
 
 And now before I do put up my pen, 
 I '11 shew the profit of my book, and then 
 Commit both thee and it unto that Hand 
 That puEs the strong down, and makes weak ones 
 stand. 
 
 This book it chaUceth out before thine eyea 
 The man that seeks the everlasting prize ; 
 It shews you Avhence he comes, whithoi" he goes ; 
 What he leaves imdone, also what he does ; 
 It also shews you how he runs and runs, 
 TiU he unto the gate of glory comes. 
 
 It shews, too, who set out for life amain, 
 As if the lasting croAvn they woidd obtain j 
 Here also you may see the reason why 
 They lose their labour, and like fools do die.
 
 Tnv, authoe's apology. 7 
 
 This book will make a traveller of tiiee. 
 If by its counsel tkoii wilt ruled be. 
 It will direct thee to tke Holy Land, 
 If tkou wilt its directions understand : 
 Yea, it will make tke slotMul active be ; 
 The blind also delio;litfiil tliino;s to see. 
 
 Art thou for something rare and profitable? 
 Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable ? 
 Art thou forgetful ? Wouldest thou remember 
 From New Year's day to the last of December? 
 Then read my fancies ; they will stick like bui's, 
 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 biit 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 exj^lanation? 
 Or «lse be drown'd in thy contemiilation ? 
 Dost thou love i)icking 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 knowest not what, 
 And yet know whether thou art blest or not, 
 By reading the same lines ? Oh, then come hither, 
 And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN.
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGPtESS, 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 
 
 His outcry. 
 
 S I walked tliroiigli tlie wilderness of this world, I 
 liatted on a certain place where ^, . ., 
 was a Den, and I laid me down 
 in that place to sleep : and, as I slept, I dreamed 
 a dream. 1 dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with 
 rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own 
 house, a book in his hand, and a great biuxlen upon his back, 
 (Isa. Ixiv. 6 ; Luke xiv. 33 ; Ps. xxxviii. 4 ; Hab. ii. 2. ) I 
 looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein ; and, 
 as he read, he wept, and trembled j and, 
 not being able longer to contain, he brake 
 ont with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I do?" 
 (Acts ii. 37, xvi. 30, 31.) 
 
 In this plight, therefore, he went home and refrained him- 
 self as long as he could, that his wife and children should not 
 perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent long, be- 
 cause that his troiible increased. Wherefore at length he 
 brake his mind to his wife and children ; and thus he began 
 to talk to them. O my dear wife, said he, and you the chil- 
 dren of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself undone 
 by reason of a biu'den that lieth hard uj)on me ; moreover, I 
 am for certain informed that this our city 
 will be burned with fire from heaven; in 
 which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my wife,
 
 10 THE pilgrim's PEOGBESS. 
 
 and you my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, ex- 
 ile knows no way of cept (tbe wMch yet I see not) some way of 
 
 escape as yet. escape Can be found, whereby we may be 
 delivered. At this Ms relations were sore amazed ; not for 
 that they believed that Avhat 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 hoj)ing that sleep might settle his brains, with aU haste 
 they got him to bed. But the night was as troublesome to 
 him as the day ; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it 
 in sigbs and tears. So, when the morniug was come, they 
 v.ould know how he did. He told them. Worse and Avorsc : 
 he also set to talking to them again ; but they began to be 
 hardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper 
 
 Carnal physic for by harsh and surly carriages to Mm ; some- 
 a sick soul. times they would deride, sometimes they 
 would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. 
 Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray 
 for and pity them, and also to condole Ms own misery ; he 
 would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, 
 and sometimes praying : and thus for some days he sj)ent his 
 time. 
 
 Now, I saw, upon a time, when ho was walking in the 
 fields, that he was, as he Avas wont, reading in his book, and 
 greatly distressed in his mind ; and, as he read, he burst 
 out, as he had done before, crying, " What shall I do to be 
 saved ? " 
 
 I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he 
 would run; yet he stood still, because, as I perceived, he 
 coidd not teU which way to go. I looked then, and saw n 
 man named Evangelist coming to him, who asked. Where- 
 fore dost thou ciy ? 
 
 He answered, Sir, I peroeive by the book in my hand, that 
 I am condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment, 
 (Heb. ix. 27;) and I find that I am not willing to do the 
 first, (Job xvi. 21,) nor able to do the second, (Ezelc 
 xxii.l 4.)
 
 THE PILGBIM's PROGRESS. 11 
 
 •" Christian no sooner leaves the World but meets 
 Evangflist, who lovingly him gi-eets 
 With tidings of another : and doth sliow 
 Him how to mount to that from tliis below." 
 
 Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this 
 life is attended with so many evils ? The man answered, 
 Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back will 
 sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Topliet, 
 (Isa. XXX. 33.) .^^d, sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am 
 not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from thence to 
 execution ; and the thoughts of these things make me cry. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why 
 standest thou still ? He answered. Because conviction of the 
 I know not whither to go. Then he gave necessity of iiyiug. 
 him a parchment roll, and there was written within, " Flee 
 from the wrath to come," (jNIatt. iii. 7.) 
 
 The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist 
 very carefully, said, Whither miist I fly ? Then said Evan- 
 gelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you 
 see yonder wicket-gate ? (Matt. vii. 13, 14.) The man said, 
 No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light ? 
 (Ps. cxix. 105; 2 Pet. i. 19.) 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 w^''to'Him cannot 
 told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in i'l^^Xu ''''"'°"' 
 my dream that the man began to run. Now, 
 he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and 
 children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; 
 but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, 
 Life ! life ! eternal life ! (Luke xiv. 26.) So he looked not 
 behmd him, but fled towards the middle of the plain, (Gen. 
 xix. 17.) 
 
 The neighbours also came out to see him run, (Jer. 
 XX. 10 ;) and, as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, 
 and some cried after him to retiu'n; and, among those that 
 did so, there were two that resolved to fetch him back by
 
 1 2 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 force. The name of the one was Obstinate, and the 
 
 name of the other Pliable. Now, by this 
 They that Ay ^. ^, ^ , ,/^ 
 
 from the wrath to time, the man was got a good distance 
 come, are a gaz- j. , i i j. i j_i 
 
 ing-stock to the irom them ; but, however, they were re- 
 solved to pursue him, which they did, and 
 iu a little time they overtook Mm. Then said the man, 
 Neighbours, wherefore are ye come? They 
 Pliable follow 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 jjlace also 
 where I was born : I see it to be so ; and, dying there, 
 sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a 
 place that burns with fire and brimstone : be content, good 
 neighbours, and go along with me. 
 
 Obst. What ! said Obstinate, and leave our friends and 
 our comforts behind us ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because 
 that ALL which you shall forsake is not worthy to be com- 
 pared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy, 
 (2 Cor. V. 17 ;) and, if you will go along with me, and hold 
 it, you shall fare as I myself ; for there, where T go, is enough 
 and to spare, (Luke xv. 17.) Come away, and jn-ove my 
 Avords, 
 
 Olst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all 
 the world to find them ? 
 
 Chr. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, imdefiled, and 
 that fadeth not away, (1 Pet. i. 4,) and it is laid up in heaven, 
 and safe there, (Heb. xi. 16,) to be bestowed, at the time ap- 
 pointed, on them that diligently seek it. Eead it so, if you 
 wiU, iu my book. 
 
 Obst. Tush ! said Obstinate, away with your book ; will 
 you go back with us or no ? 
 
 Chr. No, not I, said the other, because T have laid my 
 hand to the plough, (Luke ix. G2.) 
 
 Obst. Come, then, neighbom- Pliable, let us turn again, 
 and go home without him ; there is a company of these crazy- 
 headed coxcombs, that, when they take a fancy by the end.
 
 TRE PILGKIM's PROGKESS. 13 
 
 are -wiser in their own eyes tlian seven men that can render 
 .1 reason, (Pro v. xxvi. ]6.) 
 
 Pli. Then said Pliable, Don't revile ; if what the good 
 Christian says is true, the things he looks after are better 
 than ours ; my heart inclines to go with my neighbour, 
 
 Ohst. What ! more fools stiU ! Be ruled by me, and go 
 back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead 
 yon ! Go back, go back, and be wise. 
 
 Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour, Pliable ; 
 
 there are such things to be had which I „, . ,. 
 
 •= _ _ Cnristiau and 
 
 spoke of, and many more glories besides. If Obstinate pull for 
 you believe not me, read here m this book ; 
 and for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold, all is 
 confirmed by the blood of Him that made it, (Heb. ix. 17-22, 
 xui. 20.) 
 
 Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to 
 come to a point ; I intend to go along with this good man, 
 and to cast in my lot with him : but, my ^,. , , , , , 
 
 . •' 'J Pliable conteuted 
 
 good companion, do you know the way to to go with Chris- 
 ',.,.,,„ tian. 
 
 this desired place ? 
 
 Clir. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, 
 to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall 
 receive instructions about the way. 
 
 Pli. Come, then, good neighbour, let us be going. Then 
 they went both together. 
 
 Ohst. And I will go back to my place, said Obstmate ; 
 I will be no companion of such misled, obstinate goes 
 fantastical fellows. "^ai^s ^^''^^ 
 
 Now, I saw in my di-eam, that, when Obstmate was gone 
 
 back, Cliristian and PUable went talking; m „ , » 
 
 ° Talk between 
 
 over the plain : and thus they beiran their cinistian and 
 ,. ^ ' J a Pliable. 
 
 discourse. 
 
 C/ii'. 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.
 
 1 i THE pilgrim's PEOQRESS. 
 
 Pli. Come, neighbom* Christian, since there are none but 
 ns two here, tell me now further what the things are, and 
 ]iow to be enjoyed, whither we are going. 
 
 Chr. I can better conceive of them with my mind, than 
 
 GolVs things im- spe^k of them with my tongne : biit yet, 
 speakabie. since you are desirous to know, I will read 
 of them in jny book. 
 
 Pit. And do you think that the words of your book are 
 certainly true ? 
 
 Chr, Yes, verily ; for it was made by Him that cannot 
 lie, (Tit. i. 2.) 
 
 Fit. Well said; what things are they? 
 
 Ch: There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and 
 everlasting life to be given ns, that we may inhabit that 
 kingdom for ever, (Isa. xlv. 17 ; John x. 28, 29.) 
 
 PH. Well said ; and what else ? 
 
 Chr. There are crowns of glory to be given ns, and gar- 
 ments that wiU make ns shine like the siui in the 
 lirmament of heaven, (2 Tim. iv. 8 ; Eev. iii. 4 j Matt, 
 xiii. 43.) 
 
 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 wdl wipe all tears from oiu* eyes, 
 {[sa. XXV. 6-8 ; Eev. vii. 17, xxi. 4.) 
 
 PU. And what company shall we have there ? 
 
 Chr. There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, 
 creatures that wUl dazzle your eyes to look on them, (Isa. 
 vi. 2. ) There also joii shall meet with thousands and ten 
 thousands that have gone before ns to that place ; none of 
 them art hm-tful, but lo-\-ing and holy ; every one walking in 
 the sight of God, and standing in His presence with accept- 
 ance for ever, (1 Thess. iv. 16, 17 ; Eev. v. 11.) In a word, 
 there we shall see the elders with their golden crowaas, (Rev. 
 iv, 4 ;) there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden 
 harps, (Eev. xiw 1-5 ;) there we shall see men that by the 
 world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, 
 drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Loi-d
 
 TEE pilgrim's PEOGEESS, 13 
 
 of the place, ail -well, and clothed with immortality as -with 
 a garment, (John xii. 25 ; 2 Cor. v. 4.) 
 
 PU. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart. 
 But are these things to he enjoyed? How shall we get to be 
 sharers thereof ? 
 
 CJu: The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded 
 that in this book; the substance of which is, If we be truly 
 willing to have it, He will bestow it upon us freely, (Isa. Iv. 1, 2 ; 
 John vi. 37, vii. 37 ; Rev. xxi. 6, xxii. 17.) 
 
 Pli. We'll, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these 
 things : come on, let us mend our pace. , 
 
 Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this 
 burden that is on my back. 
 
 Now, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this 
 talk they drew near to a very muy slough, that was in the 
 midst of the plain ; and they, being heedless, x^e Slough of 
 did both fall suddenly into the bog. The Despond. 
 name of the slough was Despond. Here, therefore, they 
 wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the 
 dirt ; and Christian, because of the burden that was on 
 his back, began to sink in the mire. 
 
 Pli. Then said Pliable, Ah ! neighboiu" Christian, where 
 are you now ? 
 
 Chr. Truly, said Christian, I do not know. 
 
 Pli. At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said 
 to his fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this 
 while of ? If we have such ill speed at oxir first setting out, 
 what may we expect betwixt this and our journey's end ? 
 May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave 
 country alone for me. And, with that, he it js not euough 
 gave a desperate struggle or two, and got t" be pliable. 
 out of the mire on that side of the slough which was 
 next to his own house : eo away he went, and Christian 
 saw him no more. 
 
 Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of 
 Despond alone : but stUl he endeavoiired to struggle to that 
 side of the slough that was stiU further from his own house.
 
 IG THE PILGKIM's PROGEESS. 
 
 and next to tlie wicket-gate ; the ■which he did, but could 
 
 not get out, because of the burden that was 
 
 trouble^ seekf stiu ^^pon ^is back : but I beheld in my dream, 
 
 Wa^own house ^^°'^ ^^^^ ^ '^^^^ came to him, whose name was 
 
 Help, and asked him. What he did there ? 
 
 Chr. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man 
 
 called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I 
 
 might escape the wrath to come ; and as I was going thither I 
 
 fell in here. 
 
 Help. But why did not you look for the 
 
 The Promises. ^^^^^ , 
 
 Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, 
 
 and fell in. 
 
 Hell). Then said he. Give me thy hand : so he gave him 
 
 his hand, and he drew him out, and set him 
 Help lifts him up. . . .,..,. , . 
 
 upon sound ground, and bid hmi go on his 
 
 way, (Ps. xl. 2.) 
 
 Then I stepped to him that iilucked 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 
 
 „„ , , X, place as cannot be mended ; it is the descent 
 What makes the •■• ' 
 
 Biough of De- whither the scum and filth that attends 
 
 conviction for sin doth continually run, and 
 therefore it is called the Slough of Despond ; for still, as the 
 sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in 
 his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehen- 
 sions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. 
 And this is the reason of the badness of this ground. 
 
 It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should 
 remain so bad, (Tsa. xxxv. 3, 4. ) His labourers also have, 
 by the direction of His Majesty's surveyors, been for above 
 these sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of 
 ground, if perhaps it might have been mended : yea, and to 
 my knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at 
 least twenty thousand cart-loads, yea, millions of wholesome
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 17 
 
 instructions, that have at all seasons been brouglit 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 stUl, and so will be when they have done what 
 they can. 
 
 True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain 
 good and substantial steps, placed even The promises of 
 through the very midst of this slough ; cepUMe ^to'^iife by 
 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 vheir heads, step beside, and then they are 
 bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there ; 
 but the ground is good when they are once got in at the 
 gate, (1 Sam. xii. 23.) 
 
 Now, I saw in my di-eam, that by this time Pliable was 
 got home to his house again, so that his neighbours came to 
 visit him; and some of them called him wise pii^,jg „ot home, 
 man for comins; back, and some called him ami is visited of his 
 
 ° /-ii • • neighbours. 
 
 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 
 
 to have given out for a few difficulties. So j^.^ entertaiu- 
 
 Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at nieut by them at 
 
 ° ° his return, 
 
 last he got more confidence, and then thej- 
 
 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 Mr Worldly Wise- 
 met him was Mr Worldly Wiseman : he man meets with 
 dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very 
 crreat town, and also hard-by from whence Christian came. 
 This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some 
 uikling of him, — for Christian's setting forth from tlie City
 
 18 THE PILGEIM's PKOGEESS. 
 
 of Destruction was mucli noised abroad, not only in the town 
 wliere lie dwelt, but also it began to be the town-talk in some 
 otlier places, — Mr Worldly Wiseman, therefore, having some 
 guess of bim, by beholding his laborious going, by observing 
 his sighs and g^'oans, and the like, began thus to enter into 
 some talk with Christian. 
 
 World. How now, good fellow, whither away after this 
 
 m „ r. L ■ ,. -AT burdened manner ? 
 
 Talk betwixt Mr 
 
 ""'°,''i?,'y- , Wiseman Chr. A burdened manner, indeed, as ever, 
 and Chnstian. ^ , 
 
 I think, poor creature had ! And whereas 
 
 you ask me. Whither away ? I tell you. Sir, I am going to 
 
 yonder wicket-gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, 
 
 I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden. 
 
 World. Hast thou a wife and children ? 
 
 Chr. Yes ; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot 
 take that pleasure in them as formerly ; methinks I am as if 
 I had none, (1 Cor. vii. 29.) 
 
 World. Wnt thou barken imto me if I give thee coimsel ? 
 
 Chr. If it be good, I will j for I stand in need of good 
 counsel. 
 
 World. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed 
 
 Mr WorlcUy Wise- S®^ thyself rid of thy burden; for thou wilt 
 
 man's counsel to never be settled in thy mind till then; nor 
 
 canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessing 
 
 which God hath bestowed upon thee till then. 
 
 Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this 
 heavy burden ; but get it off myself, T 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? 
 
 Chr. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and 
 honourable person; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. 
 Mr -Woridly Wise- World. I beshrew him for his coimsel! 
 
 man condemned Et- there is not a more dangerous and trouble- 
 angeliBt a counsel. ° 
 
 some way in the world than is that unto which 
 
 he hath directed thee ; and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt
 
 "■ THE pilgrim's PROttRESS. ] 9 
 
 be rilled by his counsel. Thou hast met with somethiug, 
 as I perceive already; for I see the dirt of the Slough of 
 Despond is upon thee ; but that slough is the beginning of 
 the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. 
 Hear me, I am older than thou ; tliou art like to meet with, 
 in the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfiilness, 
 hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, 
 and, in a word, death, and what not ! These things are 
 certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. 
 And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by 
 giving heed to a stranger ? 
 
 Chr. Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible 
 to me than are all these things which you ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ 
 have mentioned : nay, methinks I care not heart of a youux 
 what I meet Avith in the way, if so be I 
 can also meet with deliverance from my burden. 
 
 World. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? 
 
 Chr. By reading this book in my hand. 
 
 World. I thought so ; and it is happened unto thee as to 
 other weak men, who, meddling with things ^^^^^^ Wiseman 
 
 too hieh for them, do suddenly fall into thy floes not like that 
 
 ° . . . . •' men should be se- 
 
 distractions ; which distractions do not only rious in reading the 
 
 unman men, as thine, I perceive, has done 
 
 thee, but they run them upon desperate ventures to obtain 
 
 they know not what, 
 
 Chr. I know what I would obtain; it is ease for my 
 heavy burden. 
 
 World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing 
 so many dangers attend it ? especially since, whether Mr 
 
 hadst thou but patience to hear me, I could Worldly Wiseman 
 
 '■ prefers morality 
 
 direct thee to the obtaining of what thou before the strait 
 
 . gate, 
 desirest, without the dangers that thou in 
 
 this way wilt run thyself into ; yea, and the remedy is at 
 
 hand. Besides, I wiU add, that, instead of those dangers, 
 
 thou shalt meet with much safety, friendship, and content. 
 
 Chr. Pray, sir, open this secret to me. 
 
 World. Why, in yonder village — the village is named
 
 20 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 Morality — there dwells a gentleman whose name ia Legality, 
 
 a, very judicious man, and a man of a very good name, that 
 
 has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are from 
 
 their shovdders : yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great 
 
 deal of good this way ; ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure 
 
 those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their 
 
 burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be heljDed 
 
 l^resently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and 
 
 if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young 
 
 man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to 
 
 speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say, 
 
 thou mayest be eased of thy biirden; and if thou art not 
 
 minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I 
 
 woidd not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and 
 
 children to thee to this village, where there are houses now 
 
 stand emi)ty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable 
 
 rates ; provision is there also cheap and good ; and that 
 
 which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure, there 
 
 thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit and good 
 
 fashion. 
 
 Now was Christian somewhat at a stand ; but presently 
 
 „, . .. J he concluded, if this be true, which this 
 
 christian snared ' ' 
 
 l)y Mr Worldly Wise- gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to 
 man's words. 
 
 take his advice ; and with that he thus 
 
 further spoke. 
 
 Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house ? 
 
 World. Do you see yonder hill? 
 Mount Sinai. -,» it n 
 
 Chr. Yes, very well. 
 
 Woi-ld. By that hiU you must go, and the first house you 
 come at is his. 
 
 So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr Legality's 
 house for help; but, behold, when he was got now hard by 
 the hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was 
 Christian airaid next the wayside, did hang so much over, 
 would ""fX'on^' to tl^^'it Christian was afraid to venture further, 
 ^^^- lest the hill should fall on his head ; where- 
 
 fore there lie Btood still, and wotted not what to do. Also
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 21 
 
 his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he waa 
 in his way. There came also flashes of fire aiit of the 
 hiU, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned, 
 (Ex. xix. 16, 18.) Here, therefore, he sweat and did quake 
 for fear, (Heb. xii. 21.) 
 
 When Christians unto carnal men give ear, 
 Out of their way they go, and pay for 't dear ; 
 For Master Worldly Wiseman can but show 
 A saint the way to bondage and to woe." 
 
 And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr 
 
 Worldly Wiseman's counsel. And with that .^ ,. . . , 
 •^ Evangelist fand- 
 
 he saw Evangelist coming to meet him ; at eth Christian under 
 
 the sight also of whom he began to blush looketh severely up- 
 
 for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer and 
 
 nearer ; and coming iip to him, he looked upon him with a 
 
 severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason 
 
 with Christian. 
 
 Evan. What dost thou here. Christian? said he : at which 
 
 words Christian knew not what to answer; „ 
 
 tiVangelist reasons 
 
 wherefore at present he stood speechless be- afresh with Chris- 
 fore him. Then said Evangelist further. 
 Art not thou the man that I found crying without the waUs 
 of the City of Destruction ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, dear sir, I am the man. 
 
 Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket-gate ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, dear sir, said Christian. 
 
 Evan. How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned 
 aside ? 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 hiU, and how it hangs over thJ way, I suddenly 
 made a stand, lest it should fall on my head.
 
 22 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Evan. What said that gentleman to you ? 
 
 Chr. Why he asked me v/hither I was going ? And I told 
 Mm. 
 
 Evan. And what said he then ? 
 
 Chr. He asked me if I had a family ? And I told him. 
 But, said I, I am so loaden with the burden that is on my 
 back, that T 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 dii'ectiou 
 how I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said 
 that he would shew me a better way, and short, not so 
 attended with difficulties as the way, sir, that yeu set me 
 in ; which way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman's 
 house that hath skill to take off these burdens, so I believed 
 him, and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might 
 be soon eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, 
 and beheld things as they ai-e, I stopped for fear (as I said) 
 of danger : but I now know not what to do. 
 
 Evan. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I 
 
 may shew thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, " See that ye refuse not him that 
 
 speaketh. For if they escaped not who i-efused him that 
 
 spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn 
 
 away from him that spealceth from heaven," (Heb. xii. 25.) 
 
 He said, moreover, "Now the just shall live by f aith j but 
 
 _ ... if ami man draw back, my soul shall have 
 
 Evangelist con- '' •' 
 
 vinces Christian of no pleasure in him," (Heb. x. 38.) He also 
 Ills error, 
 
 did thus apply them : Thou art the man 
 
 that art running into this misery ; thou hast begun to reject 
 
 the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot 
 
 from the way of peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy 
 
 perdition. 
 
 Then Christian fell down at his foot as dead, crying, 
 
 "Woe is me, for I am undone!" At the sight of which, 
 
 Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, "All
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 23 
 
 manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men," 
 (Matt. xii. 31; Mark iii. 28;) "Be not faithless, but be- 
 lieving," (John XX. 27.) Then did Christian again a little 
 revive, and stood up trembling, aa at iu*st, before Evaagelist. 
 Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earnest heed 
 to the things that I shall tell thee of. I will ^^^, Worldly Wiae- 
 
 now shew thee who it was that deluded thee, niau described by 
 
 Evangelist. 
 and who it was also to whom he sent thee. — 
 
 The man that met thee is one Worldly Wiseman, and rightly 
 is he so called ; partly, because he savoureth only the doctrine 
 of this world, (1 John iv. 5,) (therefore he always goes to the 
 town of ^Morality to chm-ch :) and partly because he loveth 
 that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross, 
 (Gal. vi. 12.) And because he is of this carnal Evangelisfc disco- 
 temper, therefore he seeketh to prevent my \^^ Worldly'^Hvise- 
 ways, though right. Now there are three '"*°* 
 things in this man's counsel, that thou must utterly abhor. 
 
 1. His tiuTiing thee out of the way. 2. His labourmg to 
 render the cross odious to thee. And, 3. His setting thy 
 feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of 
 death. 
 
 First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way ; 
 and thine own consenting thereto : because this is to reject 
 the counsel of God for the sake of the coimsel of a Worldly 
 Wiseman. The Lord says, ' ' Strive to enter in at the strait 
 gate, " (Luke xiii. 24, ) the gate to which I send thee ; for 
 " strait is the gate that leadeth unto Life, and few there be 
 that find it," (jNIatt. vii. 14.) From this little wicket-gate, 
 and from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, 
 to the bringing of thee almost to destruction ; hate, there- 
 fore, his tiu-ning thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for 
 hearkening to him. 
 
 Secondly, Thou must abhor his laboui-ing to render the 
 cross odious unto thee; for thou art to prefer it " before the 
 treasures in Egypt," (Heb. xi. 25, 26.) Besides, the King of 
 glory hath told thee, that he that " wUl save his life shaU 
 loae it," (Mark viii. 35; John xii. 25; Matt. x. 39.) And,
 
 24: THE PILGJRIM S PEOGEESS. 
 
 "He that cometh after me, and hatetk not tis father, and 
 mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, 
 yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple," 
 (Luke xiv. 26.) I say, therefore, for man to labour to 
 persuade thee, that that shaU. be thy death, without which, 
 THE TRUTH hath said, thou canst not have eternal life ; this 
 doctrine thou must abhor. 
 
 Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way 
 that leadeth to the ministration of death. And for this thou 
 must consider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable 
 that person was to deliver thee from thy bui-den. 
 
 He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name 
 
 Legality, is the son of the bond- woman which now is, and 
 
 is in bondage with her children, (Gal. iv. 
 
 The bond-woman. „, ^-, , , . . , . , . , 
 
 21-27;) and is, m a mystery, this mount 
 
 Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, 
 if she, with her children, are in bondage, how canst thou 
 expect by them to be made free ? This Legality, therefore, is 
 not able to set thee free from thy burden. No man was as yet 
 ever rid of his burden by him ; no, nor ever is like to be : ye 
 cannot be justified by the works of the law ; for by the deeds 
 of the law no man living can be rid of his burden : therefore, 
 Mr Worldly Wiseman is an alien, and Mr Legality is a 
 cheat ; and for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simper- 
 ing looks, he is but a hyi)ocrite, and cAnnot help thee. Be- 
 lieve me, there is nothing in all this noise that thou hast 
 heard of these sottish men, but a design to beguUe 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 cui-se ; for it is written, 
 Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which 
 are written in the book of the law to do them," (Gal. iii. 10.) 
 Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to
 
 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 25 
 
 cry out lamentably ; even cursing the time in whicli he met 
 
 with Mr Worldly Wiseman ; still calling himself a thousand 
 
 fools for hearkening to his counsel : he also was greatly 
 
 ashamed to think that this gentleman's arguments, flowing 
 
 only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with him 
 
 as to caase him to forsake the right way. This done, he 
 
 applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as 
 
 follow : — 
 
 Chr. Sir, what think you ? Is there hope ? May I now 
 
 go back and go up to the wicket-gate? Shall ^, . ,. . 
 
 ° & X o Christian inquires 
 
 I not be abandoned for this, and sent back jf he may yet be 
 from thence ashamed ? I am sorry I. have 
 hearkened to this man's counsel. But may my shi be for- 
 given ? 
 
 Evan. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great, 
 for by it thou hast committed two evils : thou hast forsaken 
 the way that is good, to tread in forbidden Evangelist corn- 
 paths; yet will the man at the gate receive forts him. 
 thee, for he has good-will for men ; only, said he, take heed 
 that thou turn not aside again, " lest thou perish from the 
 way, when his wrath is kindled but a little," (Ps. ii, 12.) 
 Then did Christian address himself to go back ; and Evan- 
 gelist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid 
 him God-sx)eed. So he went on with haste, neither spake 
 he to any man by the way; nor, if any asked him, would he 
 vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all 
 the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no 
 means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way 
 which he left, to follow Mr Worldly Wiseman's counsel. 
 So, in process of time Christian got up to the gate. Now, 
 over the gate there was written, "Itiiock, and it shall be 
 opened unto you," (Matt. vii. S.) 
 
 " He that will enter in must first without 
 Stand knocking at the gate, nor need he doubt 
 That is A KNOCKER but to enter in ; 
 For God can love Lira, and forgive his sin." 
 
 He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, saying —
 
 26 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 " May I now enter here? Will he within 
 Open to son-y 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 wo\ild have ? 
 
 Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the 
 City of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I 
 may be delivered from the wrath to come. I would, there- 
 fore, sir, since I am informed that by this gate is the way 
 thither, know if you are willing to let me in ! 
 
 .„ , Good-ivill. I am willinff with all my heart. 
 
 The gate will be . . *= j t 
 
 opened to broken- said he : and with that he opened the sate, 
 hearted sinners. m • 4-- \ • • j-t, 
 
 bo when Christian was stepping in, the 
 
 other gave him a pull. Then said Christian, What means 
 
 that ? The other told him. A little distance from this gate 
 
 ... there is erected a strong; castle, of which 
 Satan envies those _ ° ' 
 
 that enter the strait Beelzebub is the captain : from thence, both 
 f^ate 
 
 he and them that are with him shoot arrows 
 
 at those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die 
 
 before they can enter in. 
 
 Christian entered ^^^^ ^^'^^^ Christian, I rejoice and tremble, 
 the gate with joy go when he was got in, the man of the gate 
 asked him who dii-ected him thither? 
 Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither, and knock (as T did); 
 and he said that you, sir, would tell me what I must do. 
 
 Good-ivill. An open door is set before thee, and no man 
 can shut it. 
 
 Talk between Good- C*^*^- ^ow I begin to reap the benefits of 
 willand Christian. ^^ hazards. 
 
 Good-will. But how is it that you came alone ? 
 
 Chr. Because none of my neighbours saw their danger, as 
 I saw mine. 
 
 Good-ivill, Did any of them know of your coming ? 
 
 Chr. Yes ; my Avife and children saw me at the first, and 
 called after me to tui"n again ; also, some of my neighboura
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 27 
 
 stood crying and calling after me to return ; but I put my 
 fingers in my ears, and so came on my way. 
 
 Good-ioill. But did none of them follow you, to persuade 
 you to go back ? 
 
 Ghr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable ; but when tbey saw 
 that they coidd not in-evail, Obstinate went railing back, but 
 Pliable came with me a little way. 
 
 Good-will. But why did he not come through? 
 
 Ghr. We, indeed, came both together, until we came at the 
 
 Sloiigh of Despond, into the which we also ^ ^^.^ ^^^ ^^^,^ 
 
 suddenly feU. And then was my neighbour, company when he 
 
 •' , sets out for heaven, 
 
 Pliable, discouraged, and would not adven- and yet go thither 
 
 tui-e further. Wherefore, getting out again 
 on that side next to his own house, he told me I should pos- 
 sess the brave country alone for him; so he went his 
 way, and I came mine — he after Obstinate, and I to this 
 gate. 
 
 Good-will. Then said Good- will, Alas, poor man ! is the 
 celestial glory of so small esteem with him, that he covmteth 
 it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to 
 obtain it ? 
 
 Ghr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of 
 Phable, and if I should also say aU the truth of myself, it 
 win appear there is no betterment betwixt christian accus- 
 him and myself. It is true, he went back t^ ^Zf^J^'Z 
 to his own house, but I also turned aside to s^*^* 
 go in the way of death, being persiiaded thereto by the 
 carnal arguments of one Mr Worldly Wiseman. 
 
 Good-will. Oh! did he light upon you? What! he would 
 have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr Legality. 
 They are, both of them, a very cheat. But did you take 
 his counsel ? 
 
 Ghr. Yes, as far as I dvirst ; I went to find out Mr Legality, 
 until I thought that the moimtain that stands by his house 
 woidd have fallen upon my head ; wherefore, there I was 
 forced to stop. 
 
 Good-tviU. That mountain has been the death of many,
 
 28 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 find will be tlie death of many more ; it is well you escaped 
 being by it dasbed in pieces. 
 
 Clt,r. Why, tnily, 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-will. We make no objections against any, notwith- 
 
 Christion com- standing all that they have done before they 
 
 forted again. came hither. They are " in no wise cast out, " 
 
 (John vi. 37;) and therefore, good Cliristian, come a little 
 
 M^ay with me, and I wiU teach thee about the way thou must 
 
 Christian directed go- Look before thee ; dost thou see this 
 
 yet on his way. narrow way ? That is the way thou must 
 
 go ; it was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and 
 
 His apostles ; and it is as straight as a rule can make it. 
 
 This is the way thou must go. 
 
 Christian afraid o£ ^^''''' ^^1*. Said Christian, are there no 
 
 losing his way. turnings or windmgs, by which a stranger 
 may lose his way ? 
 
 Good-will. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, 
 and they are crooked and wide. But thus thou mayest dis- 
 tinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being 
 straight and narrow, (Matt. vii. 14.) 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further 
 
 Christian weary of ^^ ^® could not help him off with his burden 
 
 his burden. i\^% was upon his back ; for as yet he had 
 
 not got rid thereof, nor could he by any means get it off 
 
 without help. 
 
 There is no deli- He told him, As to thy burden, be content 
 guuT°tnd''°mirden *<> ^^^ar it. Until thou comcst to the place of 
 deatandWo^of fleliverance ; for there it will faU from thy 
 Christ. back of itself. 
 
 Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to addi-ess
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 29 
 
 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 shew him excellent things. Then Christian 
 took his leave of his friend, and he again bid him God-speed. 
 Then he went on till he came to the house of the Inter- 
 preter, where he knocked over and over ; at ^, . . 
 q- Christian comes to 
 
 last one came to the door, and asked who the house of the lu- 
 
 , , terpreter. 
 
 was there. 
 
 Chr. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaint- 
 ance of the good-man of this house to call here for my profit; 
 I woidd therefore speak with the master of tlie house. So 
 he called for the master of the house, who, after a little time, 
 came to Christian, and asked him what he would have. 
 
 Chr. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from 
 
 the City of Destrviction, and am going to the Mount Zion ; 
 
 and I was told by the man that stands at the gate, at the 
 
 head of this way, that if I called here, you would shew me 
 
 excellent things, such as would be a help to 
 
 He is entertained. 
 me in my journey. 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I wiU shew 
 that which wiU be profitable to thee. So he 
 commanded his man to light the candle, and 
 bid Christian follow him : so he had him into a private room, 
 and bid his man oj)en a door ; the which when he had done. 
 Christian saw the picture of a very grave christian sees a 
 j)erson hang up against the wall ; and this ^^^'^'^ picture. 
 was the fashion of it. It had eyes lifted up to heaven, the 
 best of books in his hand, the law of truth rfjjg fashion of the 
 was written upon his lij^s, the world was picture, 
 
 behind his back. It stood as if it jjleaded with men, and a 
 crown of gold did hang over his head. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? 
 
 Inter. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand, 
 he can beget oliildren, (1 Cor. iv. 15,) traA^ail in birth with 
 children, (Gal. iv. 19,) and nurse them himself when they 
 are bom. And whereas thou seest him with his ej^es lift uj)
 
 30 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 to heaven, the best of books in his hand, and the law of 
 truth writ on his lips, it is to shew thee that his work is to 
 know and unfold dark things to sinners ; even as also thou 
 seest him stand as if he pleaded with men ; and whereas 
 
 The meaning of thou seest the world as cast behind him, and 
 
 the picture. ^j^g^^ g^ crown hangs over his head, that is to 
 
 shew thee that slighting and despising the things that are 
 
 present, for the love that he hath to his Master's service, he 
 
 is sure in the world that comes next to have glory for his 
 
 reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have shewed thee this 
 
 , picture first, because the man whose picturfe 
 
 liim the picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord of 
 
 the place whither thou art going, hath 
 
 authorised to be thy guide in all difficult places thou mayest 
 
 meet with in the way ; wherefore, take good heed to what I 
 
 have shewed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast 
 
 seen, lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pretend 
 
 to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death. 
 
 Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very 
 large j)arlour that was full of dust, becaiise never swept ; the 
 which after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter 
 called for a man to sweej*. Now, when he began to sweep, 
 the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian 
 had almost therewith been choked. Then said the Inter- 
 preter to a damsel that stood by, Bring hither the water, 
 and sprinkle the room ; the which, when she had done, it 
 was swept and cleansed with pleasure. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, What means this 1 
 
 Inter. The Interpreter answered, this parlour is the heart 
 of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the 
 gospel ; the dust is his original sin and inward corruptions, 
 that have defiled the whole man. He that began to sweep 
 at first, is the Law j 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 la to shew thee, that
 
 THE PILGEIMS PE0GRES3. 31 
 
 the la\r, instead of cleansing tlie heart (by its working) from 
 sin, doth revive, put strength into, and increase it in the 
 soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it, for it doth not 
 give power to subdue, (Rom. vii. 6 ; 1 Cor. xv. 56 ; Rom. 
 V. 20.) 
 
 Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with 
 water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure ; this is to 
 shew thee, that when the gospel comes in the sweet and pre- 
 cious influences thereof to the heart, then, I say, even as 
 thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the floor 
 with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul 
 made clean through the faith of it, and consequently fit for 
 the King of glory to inhabit, (John xv. 3 ; Eph. v. 26 ; 
 Acts XV. 9 J Rom, xvi. 25. 26 ; John xv. 13.) 
 
 I saw, moreover, in mj, vixeara, that the Tntei-preter took 
 
 him by the hand, and had him into a little room, where sat 
 
 two little children, each one in his chair. „ , , , . 
 
 He shewed Inm 
 The name of the eldest was Passion, and the Passion and Pa- 
 
 name of the other Patience. Passion seemed 
 
 to be much discontented ; but Patience was very quiet. 
 
 Then Christian asked, What is the reason ^ . 
 
 . Passion Tvill have 
 
 of the discontent of Passion ? The Tnterpre- all now. Patience 
 
 ter 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 ijoured it down at his „ . , 
 feet, the which he took up and rejoiced desire, 
 
 therein, and withal laughed Patience to And quickly lavishes 
 scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he ^ *"'*^' 
 
 had lavished all away and had nothing left him but rags. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this 
 matter more fully to me. 
 
 Inter. So he said. These two lads are figures : Passion, of 
 the men of this world ; and Patience, of the rpj^g matter ex- 
 men of that which is to come ; for as here pounded. 
 thou seest, Passion will have all now this year, that is to say.
 
 32 1"HE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 in this world ; so ai'e the men of this world : they must 
 have all their good things now, they cannot stay till next 
 year, that is, until the next world, for their portion of good. 
 
 „, , „ That proverb, " A bii'd in the hand is worth 
 
 The worldly man '■ 
 
 for a bird in the two in the bush," is of more authority with 
 
 them than are all the Divine testimonies of 
 
 the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest that he 
 
 had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left him 
 
 nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such men at the end 
 
 of this world. 
 
 C'hr. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the 
 
 Patience has the ^'^^t wisdom, and that upon mauy accomits. 
 
 best wisdom. First, because he stays for the best things. 
 
 Second, and also because he will have the glory of his, when 
 
 the other has nothing but rags. 
 
 Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the 
 
 next world will never wear out ; but these are suddenly 
 
 gone. Therefore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at 
 
 Patience, because he had his good things first, as Patience will 
 
 have to laugh at Passion, because he had his best things last ; 
 
 ., , for first must give place to last, because 
 
 Things that are , f. 5 
 
 first must give last must have his time to come ; but last 
 
 place; but things . r j.t • j. 
 
 that are last are gives jilace to nothmg ; for there is not an- 
 
 *^ '"^" other 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 
 Dives had his good i* ^3 said of Dives, "Thou in thy lifetime 
 things first. receivedst thy good things, and likewise 
 Lazarus evil things ; bu fc now he is comforted, and thou art 
 tormented," (Liike xvi. 25.) 
 
 Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are 
 now, but to wait for things to come. 
 
 Inter. You say the truth : " For the things which are seen 
 
 Tlie first things are «»"« temporal ; but the things which are not 
 
 but temporal. ggg^ ^^g etemaL, " (2 Cor. iv. 1 8. ) But though 
 
 this be so, yet since things present and our fleshy aj^petite 
 
 we such near neighbours one to another ; and again, b©-
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. S3 
 
 cause things to come, and carnal sense, are such strangers 
 one to another ; therefore it la 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 Chris- 
 tian by the hand, and led him into a place where was a fire 
 burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always cast- 
 ing much water upon it, to quench it ; yet did the fire burn 
 higher and hotter. 
 
 Then said Christian, What 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 tlie reason of that. So he had him about to 
 the backside of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel 
 of oil in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast, 
 but secretly, into the fire. 
 
 Then said Christian, "What means this? 
 
 The Interpreter answered. This is Christ, who continually, 
 with the oil of His grace, maintains the work already begun 
 in the heart : by the means of which, notwithstanding what 
 the devil can do, the souls of His people prove gracious still, 
 (2 Cor. xii. 9.) And in that thou sawest that the man stood 
 behind the wall to maintain the fire, that is to teach thee 
 that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace 
 is maintained in the soid. 
 
 I saw also, that tne Interpreter took him again by the 
 hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded 
 a stately palace, beautiful to behold ; at the sight of which 
 Christian was greatly delighted. He saw also, upon the top 
 thereof, certain persons walking, who were clothed all in 
 gold. 
 
 Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? 
 
 Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards 
 the door of the palace ; and behold, at the door stood a great 
 company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There
 
 34 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at fv table- 
 side, with a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the 
 name of him that should enter therein ; he saw also, that in 
 the door- way stood many men in armour to keep it, being 
 resolved to do the men that would enter Avhat hurt and mis- 
 chief 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 
 The valiant man. , , . , 
 
 countenance come up to the man that sat 
 
 there to write, saying, " Set down my name, sir :" the 
 which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, 
 and put an helmet iipon his head, and rush toward the door 
 upon the armed men, who laid uiion him with deadly force ; 
 but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cuttiug and hack- 
 ing most fiercely. So after he had received and given many 
 wounds to those that attempted to keep him oxit, he cut his 
 way through them all, (Acts xir. 22,) and pressed forward 
 into the palace, at which there was a pleasant voice heard 
 from those that were within, even of those that walked upon 
 the top of the palace, saying — 
 
 "Come in, come in ; 
 Eternal glory thou siialt 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 ma go hence. Nay, stay, said the 
 Interpreter, till I have shewed thee a little more, and after 
 that thou Bhalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand 
 
 Despair like an again, and led him into a very dark room, 
 iron cage. where there sat a man in an iron cage. 
 
 Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad ; he sat with his 
 eyes looking down to the groimd, his hands folded together, 
 and he sdghed 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 aii thou ? The man 
 answered, I am what I was not once.
 
 THE pilgrim's progkess. 35 
 
 Chr. Wkat wast thou once ? 
 
 Man. The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing 
 l^rofessor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of 
 others ; I once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, 
 and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get 
 thither, (Luke viii. 13.) 
 
 Chr^ Well, but what art thou now ? 
 
 Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut ixp in it, 
 as in this iron cage. I cannot get out. Oh, now I cannot ! 
 
 Chr, But how earnest thou in this condition ? 
 
 Man. I left oflf to watch and be sober ; I laid the reins upon 
 khe neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the Word 
 ind the goodness of God ; I have grieved the Sx)iiit, and He is 
 gone ; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me j I have 
 provoked God to anger, and He has left me : I have so 
 hardened my heart, that I cannot repent. 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no 
 hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter. 
 Nay, said Christian, pray, sir, do you. 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you 
 must be kept in the iron cage of despair ? 
 
 Man, No, none at aU. 
 
 Inter. Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. 
 
 Man. I have crucified Him to myself afresh, (Heb. vi. C ;) 
 I have despised His person, (Luke xix. 14 ;) I have despised 
 His righteousness ; I have ' ' counted His blood an unholy 
 thing;" I have " done despite to the Spirit of Grace," (Heb. 
 X. 28, 29.) Therefore I have shut myself out of aU the 
 promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threaten- 
 ings, dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings of certain 
 judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an 
 adversary. 
 
 Inter. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? 
 
 Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world ; 
 in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself mucli 
 delight ; but now every one of those things also bite me, and 
 gnaw me like a burning worm.
 
 36 THE pilgeim's progeess. 
 
 Intel'. But canst tliou not now repent and turn ? 
 
 Man. God liatli denied me repentance. His Word gives 
 me no encouragement to believe; yea, Himself hath shut me 
 up in this iron cage ; nor can all the men in the world let me 
 out. eternity ! eternity ! how shall I grapple with the 
 misery that I must meet with in eternity ! 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this 
 man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting 
 caution to thee. 
 
 Chr. Well, said Christian, this is fearful ! God help me 
 to watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause 
 of this man's misery ! Sir, is it not time for me to go on my 
 way now ? 
 
 Inter. Tarry till I shall shew thee one thing more, and 
 then thou shalt go on thy way. 
 
 So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a 
 chamber, where there was one rising out of bed ; and as he put 
 on his raiment, he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, 
 Why doth this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid 
 Iiim tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began 
 and said. This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and 
 behold the heavens grew exceeding black ; also it thundered 
 and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an 
 agony ; so I looked iip in my dream, and saw the clouds rack 
 at an unusual rate, upon which I heard a great sound of a 
 trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with 
 the thousands of heaven ; they were all in flaming fire : also 
 the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice 
 saying, "Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment;" and with 
 that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were 
 therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad, and 
 looked upward; and some sought to hide themselves under the 
 mountains, (1 Cor. xv. 52 ; 1 Thess. iv. 16 ; Jude 14 ; John v. 
 28, 29 ; 2 Thess. i. 7, 8 ; Kev. xx. 11-14 ; Isa, xxvi. 21 ; Micah 
 vii. 16, 17; Ps. xcv. 1-3; Dan. vii. 10.) Then I saw the man 
 that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw 
 near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued
 
 THE PILGRIM'3 PROGRESS. 37 
 
 out and came from before liim, a convenient distance betwixt 
 liim and them, aa betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the 
 bar, (Mai. iii. 2, 3 ; Dan. vii. 9, 10.) I. heard it also proclaimed 
 to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloiid, 
 " Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast 
 them into the burning lake, " (Matt. iii. 12, xiii. 30; MaLiv. 1.) 
 And with that, the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I 
 stood ; out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant 
 maimer, smoke and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was 
 also said to the same persons, " Gather my wheat into the 
 garner," (Luke iii. 17-) And with that I saw many catched 
 up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind, 
 (1 Thess. iv. 16, 17.) I also sought to hide myself, but I could 
 not, for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye 
 upon me : my sins also came into my mind ; and my conscience 
 did accuse me on every side, (Rom. ii. 14, 15.) Upon this I 
 awaked from my sleep. 
 
 Chr. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight ? 
 
 Man. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, 
 and that I was not ready for it : but this frighted me most, 
 that the angels gathered up several, and left me behind ; also 
 the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My 
 conscience, too, afflicted me ; and, as I thought, the Judge 
 had always His eye upon me, shewing indignation in His 
 countenance. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou con- 
 sidered all these things ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear. 
 
 Inter. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may 
 be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way 
 thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, 
 and to address himself to his journey. Then said the In- 
 terpreter, 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 mase mo stable
 
 38 THE pilgrim's prooress. 
 
 In what I have begun to take in hand ; 
 Then let me think on them, and iniderstand 
 "Wherefore they shew'd me were, and let me bo 
 Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee." 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that tlie liigliway up which 
 Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and 
 that wall was called Salvation, (Isa. xxvi. 1.) Up this waj^, 
 therefore, did bvu'dened Christian run, but not without great 
 difficulty, because of the load on his back. 
 
 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, 
 and upon that place stood a cross, and a little below, in 
 the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that 
 just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed 
 from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and be- 
 gan to tumble, and so continued to do, till it came to 
 the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no 
 more. 
 
 Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said, with a 
 
 „ , merry heart, ' ' He hath given me rest by His 
 
 When God re- •' ,,.--, -rr? i i » mi i 
 
 leases us of our guilt soiTOW, and hfe by His death. Then he 
 
 as those that leap stood still awhile to look and wonder ; for it 
 
 °^ ^°^' was very surprising to him, that the sight of 
 
 the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked 
 
 therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were 
 
 in his head sent the waters down his cheeks, (Zech. xii. 10.) 
 
 Now, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three Shining 
 
 Ones came to him and saluted him with " Peace be to thee." 
 
 So the first said to hiln, " Thy sins be forgiven thee," (Mark 
 
 ii. 5 ;) the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him 
 
 "with change of raiment," (Zech. iii. 4;) the third also set 
 
 a mark on his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon 
 
 it, which he bade him look on as he ran, and that he shoiUd 
 
 give it in at the Celestial Gate, (Eph. i. 13.) So they went 
 
 their way, 
 
 Wlio 's this? the Pilgrim. How ! 'tis very true. 
 Old things are past away, all 's become new. 
 Strange ! lie 's another man, upon my word. 
 They be fine feathers that make a fine bird.
 
 The burden lost at the foot of the Cioas.— Page 33,
 
 THE pilgrim's PE0GEES3, 39 
 
 ThenCliristian gave tliree leaps for joy, and went on singing — 
 
 " Thus far I did come laden with my sin ; 
 Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in 
 
 Till I came hither : What a place is this 1 ,; ^ CM|tianj^c.^n 
 
 Must here be the beginning of my bliss ? when God doth giva 
 
 Must here the burden faU from off my back ? Jj™ ^^^ Jo? oi his 
 
 Must here the strings that bound it to me crack ? 
 Blest cross I blest sepulchre ! blest rather be 
 The Man that there was put to shame for me 1" 
 
 T saw then in my tlream, that he went on thus, even until 
 he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, 
 tliree men fast asleep, with fetters upon their heels. The 
 name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, simple, Sloth, and 
 and the third Presumption. Presumption. 
 
 Christian then seeing them lie in this case went to them, if 
 peradventure he might awake them, and cried, You are like 
 them that sleep on the toj) of a mast, for the Dead Sea is 
 under you — a gidf that hath no bottom, (Prov. xxiii. 34.) 
 Awake, therefore, and come away ; be willing also, and I will 
 help you oflf with your irons. He also told them, if he that 
 " goeth about like a roaring lion" comes by, you will certamly 
 become a prey to his teeth, (1 Pet. v. 8.) With that they 
 looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort : Simple 
 said, "I see no danger;" Sloth said, "Yet Tiiere is no per. 
 a little more sleep ;" and Presumption said, S'odoTenIthno?the 
 ' ' Every fat must stand upon its own bottom ; ®y^^- 
 what is the answer else that I should give thee ?" And so 
 they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on hif? way. 
 
 Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger 
 should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely 
 oflFered to help them, both by awakening of them, coun- 
 selling of them, and proffering to help them off with 
 their irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he esj)ied 
 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 christian talked 
 of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they ^'''^ *'^''^'"- 
 drew up unto him, who thus entered with them into discourse.
 
 40 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 
 
 Ghr. Gentlemen, wLence came you, and wliither go you ? 
 
 Form, and Hyp. We were born in the land of Vain-Glory, 
 and are going for praise to Mount Sion. 
 
 Chr. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at 
 the begianing of the way ? Know you not that it is written, 
 that he that cometh not in by the door, " but climbeth up 
 some other way, the same is a thief and a robber 1 " (John 
 X. 1.) 
 
 Form, and Hyp. They said, That to go to the gate for 
 entrance was, by all their countrymen, counted too far about ; 
 and that, therefore, their usual way was to make a short cut 
 of it, and to climb over the wall, as they had done. 
 
 Chr. But will it not be counted a trespass against the 
 Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate His 
 revealed will ? 
 
 Form, and Hyp. They told him, that, as for that, he 
 
 „, ^, . needed not to trouble his head thereabout : 
 
 They that come _ ' 
 
 into the way, but for what they did they had custom for : and 
 
 not by the door, , . . , 
 
 thiuk that they can could produce, if need were, testimony that 
 
 Bay something ni i i •. •. <• .-i ii i 
 
 -vindication of their woulcl Witness it for more than a thousand 
 
 own practice. 
 
 years. 
 
 C'/tr. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial 
 at law ? 
 
 Form, and Hyp. They told him, That custom, it being of 
 so long a standing as above a thousand years, woidd, doubt- 
 less, now be admitted as a thing legal by any impartial judge ; 
 and beside, said they, if we get into the way, what 's matter 
 which way we get in ? if we are in, we are in ; thou art but 
 in the way, who, as we jierceive, came in at the gate ; and 
 we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall ; 
 wherein, now, is thy condition better than ours ? 
 
 Clir. 1 walk by the rule of my Master ; you walk by the 
 rutle working of your fancies. You are counted thieves 
 aheady, by the Lord of the way ; therefore, I doubt you will 
 not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in 
 by yourselves, without His direction ; and shall go out by 
 yourselves, without His mercy.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 41 
 
 To this they made him but little answer ; only they bid 
 liim look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every 
 man in his way, without much conference one with another ; 
 save that these two men told Christian, that as to laws and 
 ordinances, they doubted not but they should as conscien- 
 tiously do them as he ; therefore, said they, we see not 
 wherein thou differest from us but by the coat that is on thy 
 back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy 
 neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. 
 
 Chr. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since 
 you came not in by the door, (Gal. ii. 16.) And as for this 
 coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the 
 i:)lace whither I go; and that, as you say, to cover my naked- 
 ness with. And I take it as a token of His kindness to me ; 
 for I had nothmg but rags before. And besides, thus I 
 comfort myself as T go : Surely, think I, ^, -,,. 
 when 1 come to the gate of the city, the iiis Lord's coat ou 
 
 , his back, and is corn- 
 
 Lord thereof will know me for good, smce I forted therewith ; 
 
 have His coat on my back — a coat that He also, with iiis mark 
 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 biu'den fell off my shoulders. I wiU tell you, more- 
 over, that I had then given me a roll, sealed, to comfort me 
 by reading as I go on the way ; I was also bid to give it in 
 at the Celestial Gate, in token of my certain going in after 
 it ; aU which things, I doubt, you want, and want them 
 because you came not in at the gate. 
 
 To these things they gave him no answer ; only they 
 looked upon each other, and laughed. Then I saw that they 
 went on all, save that Chi-istian kept before, christian has talk 
 who had no more talk but with himself, and '^'''^ himself. 
 that sometimes sighingly, and sometimes comfortably ; also 
 he would be often reading in the roll that one of the Shiuing 
 Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed. 
 
 I beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the
 
 42 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 foot of tlie Hill Difficulty ; at the bottom of wliicli was a spring. 
 He comes to the There were also in the same place two 
 Hill Difficulty, 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 
 light up the hill, and the name of the going up the side of 
 the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the 
 spring, and drank thereof, to refresh himself, (Isa. xlix. 10,) 
 and then began to go up the hill, saying — 
 
 " The liill, 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, 
 Thau 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 waj's might meet again, with that iip which Christian 
 
 went, on the other side of the hill ; therefore they were 
 
 resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those 
 
 ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. 
 
 So the one took the way which is called 
 The danger of , ^ / 
 
 turning out of the Danser, which led him into a great wood, 
 and the other took directly up the way to 
 Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark 
 mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. 
 
 " Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end ? 
 Shall they at all have safety for their friend ? 
 No, no; in headstrong manner they set out, 
 And headlong will they fall at last, no doubt." 
 
 I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the hill, 
 where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from 
 going to clambering upon liis hands and his knees, because of 
 the steepness of the place. Now, about the 
 midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant 
 arbour, made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing of 
 weary travellers ; thither, therefore. Christian got, where
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 43 
 
 also lie sat down to rest liim. Then he pulled his roll ont 
 of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort ; he also now 
 began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was 
 given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself 
 awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast 
 sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost 
 night ; and in his sleep his roll fell out of ^g ^jjat sleeps is 
 his hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there a loser, 
 
 came one to him, and awaked him, saying, " Go to the ant, 
 thou sluggard ; consider her ways, and be wise," (Prov. vi. G.) 
 And with that Christian started up, and sped him on his 
 way, and went apace, till he came to the top of the liill. 
 
 Now, when he Avas got up to the top of the hill, there 
 came two men running to meet him amain ; „, . ,. 
 
 ° ' Chnstian meets 
 
 the name of the one was Timorous, and of with Mistrust and 
 
 Timorous. 
 the other. Mistrust ; to whom Christian said. 
 
 Sirs, what's the matter? You run the wrong way. Timor- 
 ous answered, that they were going to the City of Zion, and 
 had got up that difficult place ; but, said he, the further we 
 go, the more danger we meet with ; wherefore we tui-ned, 
 and are going back again. 
 
 Yes, said ^listmst, for just before us lie a couple of lions 
 in the way, whether sleeping or waking we know not, and 
 we coidd not think, if we came within reach, but they would 
 presently pull us in pieces. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but 
 Vv'hither shall 1 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 ven- christian shakes 
 ture. To go back is nothing but death ; to °'^ ^^'^'^• 
 
 go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it. 
 I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down 
 the hill, and Christian went on his way. But, thinking 
 again of what he had heard from the men, he felt in his 
 bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be com- 
 forted; but he felt, and found it not. Then was Christian in
 
 44 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 great distress, and. knew not what to do ; for he wanted that 
 Christian misaed which used to reheve him, and that which 
 llsld^t'o '"take "com- should have been his pass into the Celes- 
 ^'"'''* tial City. Here, therefore, he began to be 
 
 much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last he be- 
 He ifl perplexed thought himself that he had slept in the 
 for his roll. arbour that is on the side of the hill ; and, 
 falling down upon his knees, he asked God's forgiveness for 
 tliat his foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. 
 But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth 
 the sorrow of Christian's heai-t ! Sometimes he sighed, some- 
 times he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so 
 foohsh to faU asleep in that place, which was erected only 
 for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, 
 he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all 
 the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that 
 
 ^ had been his comfort so many times in his iour- 
 
 Chnstian bewails . "' ... 
 
 liis foolish sleep- ney. He went thus, till he came again within 
 
 ill" 
 
 sight of the arbour where he sat and slept; 
 
 but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing 
 again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind, (Rev. 
 ii. 5 ; 1 Thess. v. 7, 8.) Thus, therefore, he now went on be- 
 wailing his sinful sleep, saying, ' ' wretched man that I am ! " 
 that I shoidd sleep in the day-time ! that I should sleep in 
 the midst of difficulty ! that I should so indugle the flesh, as 
 to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill 
 hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims ! 
 
 How many steps have I took in vain! Thus it happened 
 to Israel, for their sin ; they were sent back again by the 
 ■way of the E.ed Sea ; and I am made to tread those steps 
 with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it 
 not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been 
 on my way by this time ! I am made to tread those steps 
 tlirice over, which I needed not to have trod but once ; 
 yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is 
 almost spent. Oh, that I had not slept I 
 
 Now, by this time he was come to the arbour again, where
 
 THE pilgeim's peogress. 45 
 
 for a while he sat down and wept ; but at last, as Christian 
 would have it, looking sorrowfully down under the settle, 
 there he espied his roU ; the which he, with trembling and 
 haste, catched up, and put it into his bosom. „, . ^. -, ^ ,, 
 
 ' X ' 1 Christian findeth 
 
 But who can tell how iovful this man his roll where he 
 
 ■^ . . lost it. 
 was when he had gotten his roll again ! 
 
 for this roll was the assurance of his life and acceptance at 
 the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, 
 gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where 
 it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his 
 journey. But oh, how nimbly now did he go up the rest of 
 the hiU ! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon 
 Christian ; and this made him cagain recall the vanity of liis 
 sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again began to 
 condole with himself. 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 sinfid sleep, (I Thess. v. 6, 7.) Now also he remem- 
 bered 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 dai-k, 
 how shoidd I shift them? How should I escape being by 
 them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But while 
 he was thus bewailing his unliappy miscarriage, he lift up 
 his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before 
 him, the name of which was Beautifid ; and it stood just by 
 the highway side. 
 
 So I saw In my dream that he made haste and went for- 
 ward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now, 
 before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow pas- 
 sage, wbich was about a furlong off of the porter's lodge ; 
 and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied 
 two lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers 
 that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The 
 lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then be
 
 46 THE pilgrim's pkogress. 
 
 •was afraid, and thouglit also himself to go back after them, 
 for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the 
 l^orter at the lodge, Avhose name is Wachful, perceiving that 
 Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, 
 saying, Is thy strength so small ? (Mark xiii. 34-37. ) Fear not 
 the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial 
 of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that had none. 
 Keep in the m.idst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto 
 
 thee. 
 
 DiflSculty is behind, Fear is befoi-e, 
 Tliough he 's got on the hill, the lions roar; 
 A Christian man is never long at ease, 
 When one fright 's gone, another doth him seize. 
 
 Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the 
 lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter ; 
 he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he 
 clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood be- 
 fore the gate where the porter was. Then said Christian to 
 the porter, Sir, what house is this ? And may I lodge here 
 to-night? The porter answered. This house was built by the 
 Lord of the liiU, and he built it for the reUef and security of 
 pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was, and whither 
 he was going. 
 
 Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am 
 going to Moimt Zion ; but because the sim is now set, I 
 desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. 
 
 Por. What is your name ? 
 
 Chr. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first 
 was Graceless ; I came of the race of Japheth, whom God 
 will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem, (Gen. ix. 27.) 
 
 For. 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 find- 
 ing it not, I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to
 
 Chmtiaa at the lodge of the Palnce Beautiful, discoursing with Di. 
 aud Wa,U:hl\il.—/-jge 47.
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 47 
 
 the place where I slei^t my sleep, where I found it, and no w 
 I am come. 
 
 For. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, 
 who will, if she likes your talk, bring you into the rest of the 
 family, according to the rules of the house. So WatchfiU, 
 the porter, rang a bell, at the sound of which came out at 
 the door of the house, a grave and Leautifid damsel, named 
 Discretion, and asked why she Avas called. 
 
 The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the 
 City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being weary and 
 benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to-night ; so 
 I told him I would call for thee, who, after discourse had 
 vvith 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 witli in the way ; and he told her. 
 And last she asked his name ; so he said, It is Chi-istian, 
 and 1 have so much the more a desii-e 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 smded, biit 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, onjiurpose to entertain siich 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 some- 
 thing to drink, and consented together, that until supper 
 was ready, some of them should have some particidar dis- 
 course with Christian, for the best improvement of time ; 
 and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity to 
 discourse with him ; and thus they began : —
 
 48 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Piety. Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving 
 
 Piety discourses *» you, to receive you in our house this 
 him. night, let us, if perhaps we may better our- 
 
 selves thereby, talk with you of all things that have hap- 
 pened to you in your pilgrimage. 
 
 Chr. With a very good will, and I am glad that you are 
 so well disposed. 
 
 Piety. "What moved you at first to betake yourself to a 
 pilgrim's life ? 
 
 Chr. I was driven out of my native country, by a dreadful 
 sound that was in mine ears : to wit, that 
 was driven out of unavoidable destruction did attend me, if I 
 la own couu ry. ^q^q jn that place where I was. 
 
 Piety. But how did it happen that you came out of your 
 country this way ? 
 
 Chr. It was as God would have it ; for when I was under 
 
 the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go ; but 
 
 by chance there came a man, even to me, 
 How he got -^ ^ , , T 1 • -u 
 
 into the way to as I was tremblmg 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 Inter- 
 preter ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance 
 of which will stick by me as long as I live ; especially thi-ee 
 things : to wit, how Christ, in despite of 
 what he saw in Satan, maintains His work of grace in the 
 the way. 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.
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 49 
 
 Piety. Was that all that you saw at the house of the 
 Interpreter ? 
 
 Chr. No ; he took me and had me where he shewed me a 
 stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that 
 were in it ; and how there came a venturous man and cut 
 his way through the armed men that stood in the door to 
 keep him out, and how he was bid to come in, and win 
 eternal glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart ! 
 1 would have stayed at that good man's house a twelve- 
 month, but that I knew T had further to go. 
 Piety. And what saw you else in the way ? 
 Chr. Saw ! why, I went but a little further, and I saw One, 
 as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the tree ; and 
 the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back, (for 
 I groaned under a very heavy burden,) but then it fell down 
 from oflf me. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw 
 such a thing before ; yea, and while I stood looking up, for 
 then I could not forbear looking, three Shining Ones came to 
 me. One of them testified that my sins were forgiven me ; 
 another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered 
 coat which you see; and the third set the mark which you 
 see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll. (And with 
 that he plucked it out of his bosom.) 
 
 Piety. But you saw more than this, did you iiot ? 
 Chr. The things that I have told you were the best ; yet 
 some other matters I saw, as, namely : T 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 Formahty and Hypo- 
 crisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they j)retended, 
 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 i;p this hill, and as hard to come 
 by the lions' mouths ; and truly if it had not been for the 
 good man, the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know 
 but that after all I might have gone back again ; but now, I 
 thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me.
 
 no THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 Then Prudence thonglit good to ask him a few questions, 
 and desired his answer to them. 
 
 Pnitlence dis- Prud. Do you not think sometimes of the 
 
 courses him. country from whence you came ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation : ' ' truly, 
 if I had been mindful of that country from whence I came 
 
 ,„ . ^. , out, I niifjht have had opportunity to have 
 
 Christian's ' ° /-"^ •' 
 
 thoughts of his returned: but now I desire a better country, 
 native couutry. , 
 
 that is, an heavenly," (Heb. xi. 15, 16.) 
 
 Prud. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the 
 
 things that then you were conversant withal ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially my in- 
 
 „, ... ,. , . , ward and. carnal cogitations, with which all 
 Christian aistasted ° 
 
 with carnal cogita- my countrymen, as well as myself, were 
 
 delighted; but now aU those things are 
 
 my grief ; and might I biit choose mine own things, I would 
 
 choose never to think of those things more ; 
 
 biit when I would be doing of that which is 
 
 best, that which is worst is with me, (Eom. vii.) 
 
 Prud. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were 
 vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity ? 
 Christian's goWen C'''"'- Yes, but that is seldom; but they 
 hours. ^j,g j-Q jjjg golden hotirs in which such 
 
 things happen to me. 
 
 Prud. Can you remember by what means you find your 
 annoyances, at tim€s, 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 
 How Christian ' i. j 
 
 gets jf)ower fgainst coat, that wiU do it ; also when I look into 
 the roll that I carry in my bosom, that ■will 
 do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I 
 am going, that wiU do it, 
 
 Prud. And what ia it that makes you so desirous to go to 
 Mount Zion ? 
 
 Chr. Why, there I hope to see TTim alive that did hang 
 dead on the cross ; and there I hope to be rid of all those 
 things that to this day are in me an annoyance to me; there,
 
 THE PILGEIM's PEOGEESS. 51 
 
 tliey say, tliere is no death ; and there I shall dwell with 
 such company as I like best, (Isa. xxv. 8 ; ^j^^ christian 
 Eev. xxi. 4.) For, to tell yon truth, I love would be at Mount 
 Him, because I was by Him eased of my 
 burden ; and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would 
 fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company 
 that shall continually cry, "Holy, Holy, Holy ! " 
 
 Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family? Are 
 you a married man ? Charity discourses 
 
 Chr. I have a wife and four small children. ^'™- 
 
 Char. And why did you not bring them along with you ? 
 
 Chr. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how willingly 
 
 would I have done it! but they were aU ^ • i- . , 
 
 •' _ Christian s love 
 
 of them utterly averse to my going; on pil- to his wife ana 
 
 "' J 6 o 1 children, 
 
 grimage. 
 
 Char. But you should have talked to them, and have en- 
 deavoured to have shewn them the danger of being behind. 
 
 Chr. So I did ; and told them also what God had shewn to 
 me of the destruction of our city ; ' ' but I seemed to them as 
 one that mocked," and they believed me not, (Gen. xix. 14.) 
 
 Cluir. And did you pray to God that He woidd bless your 
 counsel to them ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and that with much affection: for you must 
 think that my wife and poor children were very dear imto 
 me. 
 
 Char. But did you teU them of your own sorrow, and fear 
 of destruction? for I suppose that destruction was visible 
 enough to you. 
 
 Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see 
 my fears in my coimtenance, in my tears. Christian's fears 
 and also in my trembling under the appre- ^g ^lad^in^iiirvery 
 hension of the judgment that did hang over countenance. 
 our heads ; but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to 
 come with me. 
 
 Char. But what could they say for themselves, why they 
 came not ? 
 
 Chr. Why, my wife waa afraid of losing this world, and
 
 62 THE pilgrim's PROGEESS. 
 
 my cliilclren were given to tlie foolish delights of youth : 
 
 The cause why SO what by one thing, and what by an- 
 dtenmdnoTgown'h other, they left me to wander in this 
 ^"^- manner alone. 
 
 Char. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all that 
 you by words used by way of persuasion to bring them away 
 ■s\ ith you ? 
 
 Chr. Indeed, I cannot commend my life ; for I am con- 
 scious to myself of many failmgs therein : I know also, that 
 a man by his conversation may soon overthrow, what by 
 argument or persuasion he doth laboitr to fasten upon others 
 
 Christian's good for their good. Yet this I can say, I was 
 hirwife'and tu- very wary of giving them occasion, by any 
 "'^'^"- unseemly action, to make them averse to 
 
 going on pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing they would 
 tell me I was too precise, and that I denied myself of things, 
 for their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think 1 
 may say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it 
 was my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing 
 any wrong to my neighbour. 
 
 Char. Indeed Cain hated his brother, "because his own 
 
 „ . , , works were evil, and his brother's ris-ht- 
 Chnstian clear of ; = 
 
 their blood if they eous, (1 John ui. 12;) and if thy wife and 
 children have been offended with thee for 
 this, they thereby shew themselves to be implacable to 
 good, and " thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood," 
 (Ezek. iii. 19.) 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking to- 
 gether until supper was ready. So when they had made 
 ready, they sat do^vn to meat. Now the table was furnished 
 What Christian had " with fat things, and with wine that was 
 to his supper. ^^,^[1 refined :" and all then- talk at the table 
 was about the Lord of the hill ; as, namely, about what he 
 Their talk at sup- ^^^ done, and wherefore he did what he 
 per-time. ^j^^ g^^j ^j^y j^g ]ja,d builded that house. 
 
 And by what they said, I perceived that he had been a great 
 Wiiarior, and had fought vrith and slain " him that had the
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 53 
 
 power of death," but not without great danger to himself, 
 which made me love him the more, (Heb. ii. 14, 15.) 
 
 For, as they said, aud as I believe, (said Christian,) he did 
 it with the loss of much blood ; but that which put glory of 
 grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to 
 his country. And besides, there were some of them of the 
 household that said they had been and sjjoke with liLm 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 jioor 
 pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to 
 the west. 
 
 They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, 
 aud that was, he had stripped himself of his glory, that he 
 might do this for the poor ; and that they heard him say aud 
 affirm, " that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion 
 alone." They said, moreover, that he had cimst makes 
 made many pilgrims princes, though by na- Ponces of beggars. 
 tiu-e they were beggai-s born, and their original had been the 
 dunghill, (1 Sam. ii. 8; Ps. cxiii. 7.) 
 
 Thus they discoursed together till late at night ; and after 
 they had committed themselves to their Lord for protection, 
 they betook themselves to rest : the Pilgrim they laid in a 
 large upper chamber, whose window opened christian's bed- 
 to ward the sun-risino; : the name of the chamber, 
 cliamber was Peace ; where he slept tOl break of day, and 
 then he awoke and sang — 
 
 " Where am I now ? Is this tlie love and care 
 Of Jesus for the men that pilgi-ims are ? 
 Thus to provide ! that I should be forgiven ! 
 And dwell already the next door to heaven !" 
 
 So in the morning they all got up ; and, after some more dis- 
 course, they told him that he shoiUd not depart till they had 
 
 shewn him the rarities of that place. And „, . , . , , . 
 
 . ^ Ciiristian had iii- 
 
 iirst they had him into the study, where to tiio study, and 
 ,, , ,,. ■,,,-, ,, what he saw there, 
 
 they shewed hfm records of the greatest an- 
 tiquity ; in which, as I remember my dream, they shewed him 
 Crgt the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the sou
 
 61 THE pilgrim's PR0GEES3. 
 
 of tlie Ancient of Days, and came by that eternal generation- 
 Here also was more fully recorded the acts that he had done, 
 and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his 
 service; and how he had placed them in such habitations, 
 that covdd neither by length of days, nor decays of natiu'e, 
 be dissolved. 
 
 Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some 
 of his servants had done : as, how they had " subdued king- 
 doms, Avi-ought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the 
 mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the 
 edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed 
 valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens, " 
 (Heb. xi. 33, 34.) 
 
 They then read again, in another part of the records of 
 the house, where it was shewed how willing their Lord was 
 to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time 
 past had ofi'ered great affronts to his person and proceedings. 
 Here also were several other histories of many other famous 
 things, of all which Christian had a view j as of things both 
 ancient and modern ; together with prophecies and predic- 
 tions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both 
 to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort 
 and solace of pilgi-ims. 
 
 The next day they took him and had him into the armoury, 
 
 Christian had into where they shewed him all manner of fur- 
 the armoury. niture, which their Lord had jirovided for pil- 
 grims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and 
 shoes that Avoidd not wear out. And there was here enough 
 of this to harness out as many men for the service of their 
 Lf'rd as there be stars in the heaven for multitude. 
 
 They also shewed him some of the engines with which 
 
 some of his servants had done wonderful things. They 
 
 „,.,.. , shewed him Moses' rod : the hammer and 
 Christiania made 
 to see ancient naU with which Jael slew Sisera ; the 
 
 pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with 
 
 which Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then 
 
 they shewed him the ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew six
 
 The Dele':table Mountains seen from the P.ilace Beautiful.— /"i/jrin:* Projress. p. ii.
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 55 
 
 hundred men. They shewed him also the jaw-bone with 
 
 which Samson did such mighty feats. They shewed him, 
 
 moreover, the sling and stone with which David slew Goliath 
 
 of Gath; and the sword, also, with which their Lord will 
 
 kiU the Man of Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the 
 
 prey. They shewed him, besides, many excellent things, 
 
 with which Christian was much delighted. This done, they 
 
 went to their rest again. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up 
 
 to go forward; but they desired him to stay till the next day 
 
 also ; and then, said they, we wiU, if the day be clear, sheAV 
 
 vou the Delectable Mountains, which, they .,, . ^. 
 
 •' ■ 7 7 J Christian snew- 
 
 said, would yet further add to his comfort, ed the Delectable 
 because they were nearer the desired haven 
 than the place where at present he was ; so he consented and 
 stayed. When the morning was up, they had him to the 
 top of tlie house, and bid him look south ; so he did : and 
 behold, at a great distance, he saw a most x^leasaut moun- 
 tainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of 
 aU sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, very delec- 
 table to behold, (Isa. xxxiii. 16, 17.) Then he asked the 
 name of the countrjt. They said it was Immanuel's Land; 
 and it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all 
 the pUgrims. And when thou comest there from thence, 
 said they, thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, 
 as the shepherds that live there wUl make appear. 
 
 Now he bethought himself of setting christian seta 
 forward, and they were willing he should. forward. 
 
 But fii'st, said they, let us go again into the armoury. So 
 they did; and when they came there, they christian sent away 
 harnessed him from head to foot with what armed, 
 
 was of proof, lest, perhaps, he should meet with assaults in 
 the way. He being, therefore, thus accoutred, walketh out 
 with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the porter if 
 he saw any pilgrims pass by. Then the porter answered, Yea. 
 
 C'ir. Pray, did you know him? said he. 
 
 Por. I asked him. his name, and he told me it was FaithfuL
 
 56 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Chr. Oh, said Christian, I know Mm; he is my townsman, 
 my near neighBoiir ; he comes from the place where I was 
 bom. How far do you think he may be before ? 
 
 Por. He is got by this time below the lull. 
 
 Cfif): Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with 
 
 „ „, . ,. thee, and add to all thy blessings much 
 How Ohi-istian ' . '' ° 
 
 and the Porter increase, for the kmdness that thou liast 
 greet at parting. , . , 
 
 shewed to me. 
 
 Then he began to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety, Cha- 
 rity, and Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot 
 of the hill. So they Av^nt on together, reiterating their 
 former discourses, till they came to go down the hiU. Then 
 said Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so (so far as I 
 can see) it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so 
 
 The Valley of i^ i^> ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^ hard matter for a. man to 
 HumUiation, g^ down into the Valley of Humiliation, as 
 thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, 
 said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the 
 hill. So he begai: to go down, but very warily; yet he 
 caught a slip or two. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream that these good companions, 
 when Christian was gone to the bottom of the hill, gave 
 him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins; 
 and then he went on his way. 
 
 But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian 
 was hard put to it; for he had gone but a little way, before 
 he espied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him ; his 
 name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, 
 •and to cast Ih his mind whether to go back or to stand his 
 ground. But he considered again that he had no armour 
 Christian no armour for his back; and therefore thought that to 
 
 for his back. turn the back to him might give him the 
 
 greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his darts. 
 
 „ . ,. , , Therefore he resolved to venture and stand 
 Ohnstian s resolu- 
 
 tioc at the approach his ground ; for, thought he, had I no more 
 
 ofApoUyon. . ^. xt, +. • f rr 
 
 m mine eye than th^i saving of my Ii^e, 
 
 it would be the best way to stand.
 
 THE pilgrim's progkess. -57 
 
 So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the mon- 
 ster 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 beUy came fire and smoke, 
 and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was 
 come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful comi- 
 tenance, and thus began to question with him. 
 
 AjJol. Whence come you ? and whither are you boimd ? 
 
 Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, which 
 is the place of all evil, and am going to the City of Zion. 
 
 Apol. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects, 
 for aU that country is mine, and I am the j,-^^^^^^^ ^^^,^.^^ 
 priuce and god of it. How is it, then, that Christiau and Apol- 
 thou hast run away from thy king ? Were 
 it not that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would 
 strike thee now, at one blow, to the ground. 
 
 Chr, I was born, indeed, in yoiir dominions, but your 
 service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not 
 live on, "for the wages of sin is death," (ilom. vi. 2o ;) 
 therefore, when I was come to years, I did as other con- 
 siderate persons do, look out, if, perhaps, I might mend 
 myself. 
 
 Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his 
 
 subiects, neither will I as yet lose thee: bixt 
 
 . ^' 1 • ^ r XI • 1 Apollyon's flattery. 
 
 since thou complainest oi thy service and 
 
 wages, be content to go back : what our coimtry will afford, 
 
 I do here promise to give thee. 
 
 Chr. But I have let myseK 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 jiroverb, 
 
 "Changed a bad for a worse:" but it is . „ 
 
 <= ' Apollyon xmder- 
 
 ordinarv for those that have professed them- values ciirist's ser- 
 
 ' . vice, 
 
 selves his servants, after a while to give him 
 
 the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and aU yhall 
 
 be well. 
 
 Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance
 
 68 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 to Mm; how, then, cau I go back from this, and not be 
 hanged as a traitor ? 
 Apoliyon pretends -^PO^- Thou didst the same to me, and 
 to be merciful, yg^ j g^jjj^ willing to pass by all, if now thoii 
 
 wilt yet turn again and go back. 
 
 Gkr. What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and, 
 besides, I count the Prince under whose banner now I stand 
 is able to absolve me ; yea, and to pardon also what I did as 
 to my compliance with thee ; and besides, thou destroying 
 Apoliyon ! to speak truth, I hke his service, his wages, his 
 servants, his government, his company and country, better 
 than thine ; and, therefore, leave off to persuade me further ; 
 I am his servant, and I will follow him, 
 
 Ax>oL Consider, again, when thou art in cool blood, what 
 Apoliyon pleads thou art like to meet with in the way that 
 o^ chriIu"^isr"to i^lioii goest. Thou knowest that, for the 
 dissuade Christian j^^g^ pj,pf ]jjg servants come to an iU end, 
 from persisting m ■■■ ' _ ' 
 
 liisway. because they are transgressors against me 
 
 and my ways. How anany of them have been put to 
 shameful deaths ; and, besides, thou countest his service 
 better than mine, whereas he never came yet from tlie 
 place where he is to deliver any that served him out of their 
 hands; but as for me, how many times, as all the world 
 very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, 
 those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, 
 though taken by them ; and so I will dcUver thee. 
 
 Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on pur- 
 pose to try then- love, whether they wUl cleave to him to the 
 end ; and as for the ill end thou sayest they come to, that is 
 most glorious in theii" account ; for, for i^resent deliverance, 
 they do not miich expect it, for they stay for their glory, 
 and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in his, 
 and the glory of the angels. 
 
 A i>ol. Thou hast already been unfaithful m thy service to 
 him ; and how dost thou think to receive wages of him ? 
 
 Chr. Wherein, Apoliyon! have I been unfaithful to 
 him?
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 59 
 
 Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, wlien thou A\'ast 
 
 almost choked in the Gulf of Despond: thou . „ , , 
 
 •^ ' Apollyon pleads 
 
 didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy Christian's infirmi- 
 
 burden, whereas thou shoiildest have stayed 
 
 till thy Prince had taken it off ; thou didst sinfully sleep and 
 
 lose thy choice thing ; thou wast, also, almost persuaded to 
 
 go back, at the sight of the lions ; and when thou talkest of 
 
 thy journey, and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou 
 
 art inwardly desirous of vaiu-glory in all that thou sayest or 
 
 doest. 
 
 Chr. All this is true, ami 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 pos- 
 sessed me in thy country, for there I sucked them in ; and 1 
 have groaned imder them, been sorry for them, and have ob- 
 tained pardon of my Prince. 
 
 Apol. Then A])ollyon broke oiit into a grievous rage, say- 
 ing;, I am an enemy to this Prince : I hate , „ 
 
 o' J ' Apollyon m a 
 
 his person, his laws, and people ; I am rase fails upon 
 come out on piu^pose to withstand thee. 
 
 Chr. Apollj'on, beware what you do; for I am in the 
 king's highway, the way of holiness ; therefore take heed 
 to yom-self. 
 
 A2)ol. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole 
 breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this 
 matter : prepare thyself to die ; for I swear by my infernal 
 den, that thou shalt go no farther ; here will T spill thy soul. 
 
 And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast ; but 
 Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, 
 and so prevented the danger of that. 
 
 Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir 
 him : and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts a j 
 thick as hail ; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian 
 could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him Christian woun.i- 
 in his head, his hand, and foot. This made h?g°fafth?ind cou- 
 Christian give a little back ; Apollyon ^ersation. 
 therefore followed his work am.ain, and Christian arrain took
 
 CO THE pilgrim's PROGKESS. 
 
 courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore 
 combat lasted for above half a day, even tiU Christian was 
 almost quite spent ; for you must know that Christian, by 
 reason of his woimds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. 
 Then ApoUyon, espying his opportimity, began to gather 
 
 Apdiyon casteth "^^ ^^^^^ ^"^ Christian, and wrestling with 
 flown to the ground him, gave him a di-eadful fall; and with 
 that Christian's sword flew out of his hand. 
 Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now. And with that 
 he had almost pressed him to death, so that Cliristian began 
 to despair of life : but as God would have it, while Apollyon 
 was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of 
 this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for 
 his sword, and caught it, saying, "Eejoice not against mc, 
 mine enemy: when I fall I shall arise," (Micah vii. 8;) 
 Christian's victory ^^^^ with that gave him a deadly thrust, 
 
 over ApoDyon. ^j^ich made him give back, as one that had 
 recei\,.d his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, 
 made at him again, saying, "Nay, in all tliese things we are 
 more than conqiierors through him that loved us," (Eom. 
 viii. ,37. ) And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon's 
 wings, and sped him away, that Chi-istian for a season saw 
 him no more, (James iv. 7.) 
 
 In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen 
 
 A brief relation of ''^"'^ ^''''^^''^ ''^^ •"• '^^^^' '^^^^^ yelHug and hideous 
 tlie combat by the roaring Apollyon made all the time of the 
 
 BpGCtSitOr. /-» T 
 
 fight — he spake like a dragon ; and, on the 
 other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's 
 heart. I never saw him all the wliile give so much as one plea- 
 sant look, till he perceived he had woimded Apollyon with 
 his two-edged sword ; then, indeed, he did smile, and look 
 upward ; but it was the dreadfulest sight that ever I saw. 
 
 A more ujicqiuil match can liardly be, — 
 Christian must fight an Angel ; but you see. 
 The valiant man by handling Sword and Slueld, 
 Doth make him, though a Dragon, quit the field. 
 
 So when the battle was over, Christian said, "I will hero
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 61 
 
 give tlianks to him that delivered me out of the mouth 
 
 of the lion, to him that did help me against Christian gives 
 
 , „ T . God tlianks for de- 
 
 Apollyon." And so he did, saymg — liverance. 
 
 " Great Beel/.ebub, the captain of this fiend, 
 Design'd my ruin ; therefore to this end 
 He sent him hamess'd out : and he with rage 
 Tiiat hellish was, did fiercely me engage. 
 But blessed Michael helped me, and I, 
 By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly. 
 Therefore to him let me give lastmg praise, 
 And thank and bless his holy name always." 
 
 Then there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves 
 
 of the tree of life, the which Christian took, and applied to 
 
 the wounds that he had received in the battle, and was 
 
 healed immediately. He also sat down in that i)lace to eat 
 
 bread, and to drink of the bottle that was christian goes on 
 
 1 • Tij.1 1 c „ i.^:,,„ ,.^ his journey with his 
 
 given him a little before; so, being le- sword drawn in his 
 
 freshed, he addressed himself to his jour- ^^'^^'l- 
 ney, mth his sword drawn in his hand ; for he said, I know 
 not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with 
 no other affront from ApoUyon quite through this valley. 
 
 Now, at the end of this valley was another, called the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, and Chris- The Valley of the 
 tian must needs go through it, because the Shadow of Death. 
 way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now, 
 this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah 
 thus describes it: "A wUderness, a land of deserts and of 
 pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land 
 that no man" (but a Cliristiau) "passed through, and where 
 no man dwelt," (Jer. ii. 6.) 
 
 Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight 
 with ApoUyon : as by the sequel you shall see. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got to 
 the borders of the Shadow of Death, there The children of the 
 met him two men, children of them that BPiesgoback. 
 hrought up an evil report of the good land, (Num. xiii.,) 
 making haste to go back ; to whom Christian spake as 
 follows : —
 
 62 
 
 THE pilgrim's PBOGEESS. 
 
 Chr. Wliither are you going? 
 
 Men. They said, Back ! back ! and we would have you to 
 do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. 
 
 Chr. Why, what 's the matter ? said Christian. 
 
 Men. Matter ! said they ; we were going that way as you 
 are going, and went as far as we durst ; and indeed we were 
 almost past coming back ; for had we gone a little fiirther, 
 we had not been here to bring the news to thee. 
 
 Chr. But what have you met with ? said Christian. 
 
 Man. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death ; but that, by good haj), we looked before us, and saw 
 the danger before we came to it, (Ps. xliv. 19, cvii. 10.) 
 
 Chr. But what have you seen ? said Christian. 
 
 Men. Seen ! Why, the valley itself, which is as dark as 
 pitch ; we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons 
 of the pit ; we heard also in that valley a contimial howling 
 and yelling, as of a peox)le under unutterable misery, who 
 there sat bound in affliction and irons ; and over that valley 
 hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion. Death also doth 
 always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit 
 dreadful, being utterly without order, (Job iii. 5, x. 26.) 
 
 Chr. Tlien, said Christian, T perceive not yet, by what you 
 have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven, 
 (Jer, ii. 6.) 
 
 Men. Be it thy way ; we will not choose it for ours. So 
 they parted, and Christian went on his way, but stiU with 
 his sword drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be 
 assaulted. 
 
 I saw then in my dream so far as this valley reached, 
 there was on the right hand a very deep ditch ; that ditch is 
 it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and 
 have both there miserably perished, (Ph. Ixix. 14, 15.) Again, 
 behold, on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, 
 into which, if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom 
 for his foot to stand on. Into that quag king David once 
 did fall, and had no doubt therein been smothered, had not 
 He that is able plucked him out.
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGPSESS. 
 
 63 
 
 The patliway was here also exceeding narrow, and there- 
 fore good Christian was the more jnit to it; for when he 
 sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the one hand, he 
 Avas ready to tip over into the mire on the other ; also when 
 he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he 
 would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, 
 and I heard him here sigh bitterly ; for, besides the dangers 
 mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that oft- 
 times, when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not 
 where or upon what he should set it next. 
 
 Poor man ! where art thou now? thy day is ni^ht. 
 Good man, be not cast down, thou yet art right, 
 Thy way to heaven lies by the gates of hell; 
 Cheer up, hold out, with thee it shall go well. 
 
 About the midst of this valley, I perceived the mouth of 
 hell to be, and it stood also hard by the way-side. Now, 
 thought Christian, what shall I do ? And ever and anon the 
 flame and smoke woidd come out in such abvmdance, with 
 sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for Chris- 
 tian's sword, as did ApoUyon before,) that he was forced to 
 I)ut up his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, 
 called All-pi-ayer, (Eph. vi. 18.) So he cried in my hearing, 
 "0 Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul!" (Ps. cxvi. 4.) 
 Thus he went on a great while, yet stiU the flames would be 
 reaching towai'ds him. Also' he heard doleful voices, and 
 rushiugs to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should 
 be torn in pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. 
 This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises were 
 heard by him for several miles together ; and, coming to a 
 place where he thought he heard a company of fiends coming 
 forward to meet him, he stopped, and began christian jut to 
 to muse what he had best to do. Some- a stand, but for a 
 
 'WlillG. 
 
 times he had half a thought to go back ; then 
 again he thought he might be half way through the valley ; 
 he remembered also how he had aheady vanquished many a 
 danger, and that the danger of going back might be much 
 more than for to go forward ; so he resolved to go ou, Yet the
 
 C4 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer ; but when they 
 were come even aimubt at him, he cried out with a most 
 vehement voice, " I will walk in the strength of the Lord 
 God !" so they gave back, and came no further. 
 
 One thing I would not let slip ; I took notice that now 
 poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not know 
 his own voice; and thus T perceived it. Just when he 
 was come over against the mouth of the biu-ning j)it, one 
 of the wicked ones got behind him, and stept uj) softly 
 
 Christian made to Mm, and whispermgly suggested many 
 wliphemfes^^wheu gi'ievous blasphemies to him, which he 
 
 it was Satan that yerily thought had proceeded from his own 
 
 Buggested them into jo x 
 
 Lis mind. mind. This put Chi-istian more to it than 
 
 anything that he met with before, even to think that he 
 
 should now blaspheme Him that he loved so much before ; 
 
 yet, if he coidd have helped it, he would not have done it ; 
 
 but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to 
 
 know from whence these blasphemies came. 
 
 When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition 
 some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a 
 man, as going before him, saying, " Though I walk through 
 the vaUey of the ehadow of death, I wiU fear no evil, for 
 thou a7-t with me," (Ps. xxiii. 4.) 
 
 Then he Avas glad, and that for these reasons : — 
 
 First, Because he gathered from thence, that some wh< 
 feared God were in this valley as well as himself. 
 
 Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, 
 though in that dark and dismal state ; and why not, thought 
 he, with me ? though, by reason of the impediment that 
 attends this j)lace, I cannot perceive it, (Job ix. 11.) 
 
 Tldrdly, For that he hoped, coidd 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 
 
 Christian glad at ^^V broke; then said Christian, He hath 
 break of day. turned "the shadow of death into the 
 morning," (Amos v. 8.)
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 05 
 
 Now morning being come, lie 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 wi'itten, " He discovereth 
 dejp things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the 
 shadow of death," (Job xii, 22.) 
 
 Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance 
 from all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers, 
 though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more 
 clearly now, because the light of the day made them con- 
 spicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising, 
 and this was another mercy to Christian ; for you must note, 
 that though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of 
 
 Death was dangerous, yet this second part „, 
 
 o ' J f Tiie second part 
 
 which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far of this Talley yery 
 
 1 r / ,, , \ dangerous, 
 
 more dangerous : tor 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, decj) holes, and shelvings down there, 
 
 that, had it now been dark, as it was when he came the first 
 
 part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in 
 
 reason been cast away ; but, as I said just now, the sun was 
 
 rising. Then, said he, ' ' His candle shineth upon my head, 
 
 a7id by his light I walk through darkness," (Job xxix. 3.) 
 
 In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay 
 
 blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of 
 
 pilgrims that had gone this way formerly ; and while I was 
 
 musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me 
 
 a cave, where two giants, POPE and PAGAN, dwelt in old 
 
 time ; by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, 
 
 blood, ashes, &c., lay there, were cruelly put to death. But
 
 C6 
 
 THE PILGKiafs PROGRESS. 
 
 by this place Christian went without much clanger, wherc.it I 
 somewhat wondered; but I have learnt since, that PAGAN 
 has been dead many a day ; and as for the other, though he 
 be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many 
 shrewd brushes that he met with in his yoimger 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 Chi-istian went on his way ; yet, at the sight 
 of the Old Man that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could 
 not tell what to think, especially because he spake to him, 
 though he could not go after him, saying, "You will never 
 mend till moi'e of you be burned." But he held his peace, 
 and set a good face on it, and so went by and catched uo 
 hiu-t. Then sang Christian — 
 
 " O world of wonders ! (I can say no less) 
 That I should be preserved in that distress 
 That I have met with here ! O blessed be 
 That hand that from it hath deliver'd me I 
 Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, 
 Did compass me, while I this vale was in: 
 Yea, snai-es, and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie 
 My path about, that worthless, silly I 
 Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down; 
 But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown." 
 
 Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little 
 ascent, which was cast up on piu'pose that pilgrims might 
 see before them. Up there, therefore. Christian went, and 
 looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his jour- 
 ney. Then said Christian aloud, "Ho! ho! soho! stay, 
 and I will be your companion ! " At that, Faithful looked 
 behind him; to whom Christian cried again, "Stay, stay, 
 till I come up to you." But Faithful answered, "No, I am 
 upon my life, and the avenger of blood is behind me." 
 
 At this, Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to 
 
 Christian overtakes ^11 his strength, he quickly got up with 
 
 Faithful. Faithful, and did also overrim him ; so the 
 
 last was first. Then did Christian vain-gloriously smile,
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 67 
 
 because lie 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 imtil Faithful came up to he]p him. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on 
 together, and had sweet discoirrse of all Christian's fall 
 
 things that had happened to them in their Ife*''|o™giy''to- 
 jtilgrimage ; and thus Christian began : — gether. 
 
 Chr. My honoured and weU-beloved brother, Faithful, I 
 am glad that I have overtaken you ; and that God has so 
 tempered our spirits, that we can walk as companions in this 
 so pleasant a path. 
 
 Faith. I had thought, dear friend, to have had your com- 
 pany quite from our town ; but yoii did get the start of me, 
 wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone. 
 
 Chr. How long did you stay in the City of Destruction, 
 before you set out after me on your pilgrimage ? 
 
 Faith. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great 
 
 talk presently after you were gone out, that ^^^^^ ^^„^ ^^^^^^ 
 
 our city would, in short time, with fire from tiie country from 
 •^ whence they came. 
 
 heaven, be burned down to the ground. 
 
 Chr. What ! did your neighbours talk so ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth. 
 
 Chr. What ! and did no more of them but you come out 
 to escape the danger ? 
 
 Faith. Though there was, as I .said, a great talk there- 
 about, yet I do not think they did firmly believe it. For in 
 the heat of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly 
 sxieak of you and of your desperate journey, (for so they 
 called this your pilgrimage,) but I did believe, and do stiil, 
 that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from 
 above ; and therefore I have made my escape, 
 
 Chr. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he 
 came at the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell 
 in ; but he would not be kno-\vn to have so done ; but I am 
 sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of du't. 
 
 Chr. And what said the neighbours to him ?
 
 68 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 Faith. He hatli, since liis going back, been had greatly in 
 
 derision, and that among all sorts of people ; some do mock 
 
 ^,. ,, and despise him: and scarce will any set 
 
 How Pliable was ■■■ ' , •' 
 
 accounted of, when 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 turn-coat ! he was 
 not true to his profession. I think God has stirred up even 
 his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because 
 he hath forsaken the way, (Jer. xxix. 18, 19.) 
 
 Chr. Had you no talk with him before yoii 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. 
 
 Chi: Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that 
 man ; but now I fear he wUl perish in the overthrow of the 
 city ; for it is ha^jpened to him according to the true proverb, 
 
 The dog and the " The dog is turned to his own vomit again ; 
 ^°^''- and the sow that was washed, to her wal- 
 
 lowing in the mire," (2 Pet. ii. 22.) 
 
 Faith. These are my fears of him too ; but who can hinder 
 that which will be ? 
 
 Chr. Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave 
 him, and talk of things that more immediately concern our- 
 selves. Tell me now Avhat you have met with in the way as 
 you came ; for I know you have met with some things, or 
 else it may be writ for a wonder. 
 
 Faith. I escaped the slough that I perceived you fell into. 
 
 Faithful assaulted ^^^^ go* ^P *o ^^^ g^te without that dan- 
 by Wanton. ggj, . Qjjy j ^g|; -with one whose name was 
 
 Wanton, who had like to have done me a mischief. 
 
 Chr. It was well you escaped her net ; Joseph was hard 
 put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did ; but it had 
 like to have cost him his life, (Gen. xxxix. 11-13.) But what 
 did she do to you ? 
 
 Faith. You cannot think, but that you know something,
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 69 
 
 wliat a flattering tongue she had ; she lay at me hard to tura 
 aside with her, promising me all manner of content. 
 
 Chr. Nay, she did not i^romise you the content of a good 
 conscience. 
 
 Faith. You know what T mean; all carnal and fleshly content. 
 
 GJir. Thank God you have escaped her: "The abhorred 
 of the Lord shall fall into her ditch," (Ps. xxii. 14.) 
 
 Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her 
 or no. 
 
 Chr. Why, I trow, you did not consent to her desires ? 
 
 Fa'dh. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old 
 writing that I had seen, which said, " Her steps take hold on 
 hell," (Ps. V. 5.) So I shut mine eyes, because I would not 
 be bewitched with her looks, (Job xxxi. 1.) Then she railed 
 on me, and I went my way. 
 
 Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came ? 
 
 Faith. When I came to the foot of the hiU called Difiiculty, 
 1 met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and 
 whither bound. I told him that I am a He is assaulted by 
 pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then Adam the First. 
 said the old man. Thou lookest like an honest fellow ; wilt 
 thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall 
 give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. 
 He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in 
 the town of Deceit, (Ei>h. iv. 22.) I asked him then what 
 was his work, and what the wages that he would give. He 
 told me, that his work was many delights ; and his wages, 
 that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him wliat 
 house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he tokl 
 me, that his house was maintained with aU the dainties in 
 the world ; and that his servants were those of his own be- 
 getting. Then I asked if he had any children. He said that 
 he had but three daughters : the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust 
 of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life, and that I shovild marry 
 them all if I would, (I John ii. 16.) Then I asked how long 
 time he would have me live with him ? And he told me, Aa 
 long as he lived himself.
 
 70 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 Clir. Well, and wliat conclusion came the old man and 
 you to at last ? 
 
 Faith. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable 
 to go with the man, for 1 thought he spake very fair ; but 
 looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there 
 written, '* Put off the old man with his deeds." 
 
 Clir. 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 woidd sell me for a slave. So I bid him forbear to 
 talk, for I would not come near the door of his hoiise. Then 
 he reviled me, and told me that he woidd send such a one 
 after me, that should make my way bitter to my soid. So T 
 turned to go away from him ; but just as I tm-ned 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 puUed part of me 
 after himself. This made me cry, "0 wretched man!" 
 (Horn. vii. 24. ) So I went on my way up the hill. 
 
 Now when I had got about half way uj), I looked behind, 
 and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind ; so he over- 
 took me just aboiit the place where the settle stands. 
 
 Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; 
 but being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roU out of 
 my bosom. 
 
 Faith. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the 
 man overtook mo, he was but a word and a blow, for down 
 he knocked me, aiid 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 la}^ at his foot 
 as dead as before. So, when I came to myself again, I cried 
 liim mercy ; but he said, I know not how to shfew mercy ; 
 and with that knocked me down again. He had doubtless 
 made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him 
 forbear. 
 
 Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear?
 
 THE PILaHIM's PROGRESS. 71 
 
 Faith. I did not know him at first, but as lie went by, I 
 perceived tlie holes in his hands and in his side ; then I con- 
 cluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. 
 
 Chr. That man that overtook you was The temper of 
 Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth Moses. 
 
 he how to shew mercy to those that transgress his law. 
 
 Faith. T 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 woidd burn my 
 house over my head if I stayed there. 
 
 Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on 
 the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you ? 
 
 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 becaiise I had so much of the day before me, I passed by 
 the i)orter, and came down the hill. 
 
 Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by, but T 
 wish you had called at the house, for they would have 
 shewed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have 
 forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me. 
 Did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would will- 
 ingly have persuaded me to go back again Faithful assaulted 
 with him; his reason was, for that the by Disconteot. 
 valley was altogether without honour. He told me, more- 
 over, that there to go was the way to disobey all my frends, 
 as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, Avith others, 
 who, he knew, as he said, would be very much offended, if 
 I made such a fool of myseK as to wade through this valley. 
 
 Chr. Well, and how did you answer him ? 
 
 Faith. I told him that although all these that he named 
 might claim kindred of me, and that rightly, faithful's answer 
 for indeed they were my relations according '° discontent. 
 to the flesh ; yet since I became a pilgrim, they have dis- 
 owned me, as I also have rejected them; and therefore they 
 were to me now no more than if they had never been of my 
 lineage.
 
 72 THE pilgrim's puogress. 
 
 I told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite 
 misrepresented the thing; "for before honom' is humility, 
 and a haughty spirit before a fall." Therefore, said I, I had 
 rather go through this valley to the honour that was so 
 accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed 
 most worthy our affections. 
 
 Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but of all the men that I 
 
 He is assaulted "let with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, 
 with Shame. bears the wrong name. The others woidd 
 be said nay, after a little argumentation, and somewhat else; 
 but this bold-faced Shame would never have done. 
 
 Chr. Why, what did he say to you ? 
 
 Faith. What ! why, he objected against religion itself; he 
 said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking bixsiness, for a man to 
 mind religion ; he said that a tender conscience Avas an un- 
 manly thing ; and that for a man to watch over his words 
 and ways, so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty 
 that the brave spirits of the times accustom themselves vinto, 
 would make him the ridicule of the times. He objected 
 also, that but few of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever oi 
 my opinion, (1 Cor. i. 2G, iii. 18 ; Phil. iii. 7, 8 ;) nor any 
 of them neither, (John vii. 48,) before they were persuaded 
 to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness, to venture 
 the loss of all, for nobody knows what. He, moreover, ob- 
 jected the base and low estate and condition of those that 
 were chiefly the pUgrims, of the times in which they lived : 
 also their ignorance and want of understanding in all natm-al 
 science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about 
 a great many more things than here I relate ; as, that it was 
 a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a 
 shame to come sighing and groaning home ; that it was a 
 shame to ask my 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 resjject the base, because of the
 
 THE pilgrim's progress, 73 
 
 same religious fraternity. And is not this, said lie, a 
 shame ? 
 
 Chr. And what did you say to liim? 
 
 Faith. Say! I could not tell what to say at the first. 
 Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face ; 
 even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite 
 off. But at last I began to consider, that "that which is 
 highly esteemed among men, is had in abomination with 
 God," {Luke xvL 15.) And I thought again, this Shame 
 tells me what men are ; but it teUs me nothing what God or 
 the Word of God is. And I thought, moreover, that at the 
 day of doom, we shall not be doomed to death or life accord- 
 ing to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to 
 the wisdom and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, 
 what God says is best, indeed is best, though all the men in 
 the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God prefers his 
 religion ; seeing God prefers a tender conscience ; seeing 
 they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of heaven 
 are wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is 
 richer than the greatest man in the world that hates him ; 
 Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation ! Shall I 
 entertain thee against my sovereign Lord. How then shall 
 I look him in the face at his coming? Shoidd I now be 
 ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I expect the 
 blessing? (Mark viii. 38.) But, indeed, this Shame was a 
 bold villain ; T could scarce shake him out of my company ; 
 yea, he woidd be haunting of me, and continually whisper- 
 ing me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities 
 that attend religion ; but at last I told him it was but in 
 vain to attempt further in this business ; for those things 
 that he disdained, in those did T see most glory ; and so at 
 last I got past this imj^ortunate 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 nf rcsh
 
 74 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 That now, or sometime else, we by tliem may 
 Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
 Oh, let the pilgrims, let the prilgrims, then 
 Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men." 
 
 Clir. I am glad, my brother, that tliou didst withstand 
 this vilLaiu so bravely ; for of all, as thou sayest, I thuik he 
 has the wrong name ; for he is so bold as to follow us iu 
 the streets, and to attempt to piit us to shame before all 
 men : that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good ; 
 but if he was not himself audacious, he would never attempt 
 to do as he does. But let us still resist him ; for notwith- 
 standing aU his bravadoes, he promoteth the fool and none 
 else, «' The wise shall inherit glory," said Solomon; "but 
 shame shall be the promotion of fools," (Prov, iii. 35.) 
 
 Faith. I think \fe must cry to Him for help against Shame, 
 who wo\ild have us to be valiant for the truth upon the earth. 
 ■ Clir. You say true ; but did you meet nobody else in that 
 
 valley ? 
 
 Faith. No, not I ; for I had sunshine all the rest of the 
 way through that, and also through the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. 
 
 Chr. It was well for you. I am sure it fared far other- 
 wise with me ; I had for a long season, as soon almost as I 
 entered into that valley, a dreadful combat with that foul 
 fiend ApoUyon ; yea, I thought verily he would have killed 
 me, especially when he got me down and crushed me imder 
 liim, as if he would have crushed me to pieces ; for as he 
 threw me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he told mo 
 he was sure of me : but I cried to C4od, and he heard me, and 
 delivered me out of aU my troubles. Then I entered into 
 the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for 
 almost half the way through it. I thought I should have 
 been killed there, over and over ; but at last day broke, and 
 the Sim rose, and T went through that which was behind 
 with far more ease and quiet. 
 
 Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, 
 Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 75 
 
 whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance beside them ; 
 
 for in this place there was room enough for _ „ ,. , ., , 
 ■^ . 11 1 Talkative described, 
 
 them all to walk. He was a tall man, and 
 
 something more comely at a distance than at hand. To this 
 
 man Faithful addressed himself in this ma,nner : — 
 
 Faith. Friend, whither away? Are you going to the 
 heavenly country ? 
 
 Talk. I am going to the same place. 
 
 Faith. That is well ; then I hope we may have your good 
 company. 
 
 Talk. With a very good will v/ill I be your companion. 
 
 Faith. Come on, then, and let us go to- paithful and 
 gether, and let us S])end our time in dis- Talkative enter 
 ° ^ r. 1 1 discourse. 
 
 coursing of things that are profitable. 
 
 Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very 
 acce^jtable, Avith you or with any other ; and I am glad 
 that I have met with those that incline to so good 
 a work J for, to speak the truth, there are Talkative's dislike 
 but few that care thus to spend theii- time, of bad discourse, 
 (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 nae. 
 
 Faith. That is indeed a thing to be lamented ; for what 
 things so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men 
 on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven? 
 
 Talk. I like you wonderful well, for yoiir sayings are full 
 of conviction ; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and 
 what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What 
 things so pleasant, (that is, if a man hath any delight in 
 things that are wonderful?) For instance, if a man doth 
 delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things; 'or 
 if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or sign?, 
 where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so 
 sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture? 
 
 Faith. That is true ; but to be profited by such things iu 
 our talk shoidd be that w^hich we design. 
 
 Talk. That is it that I said ; for to talk of such things is
 
 76 THE pilgrim's progress, 
 
 most profitable; for by so doing, a man may get knowledge 
 
 Talkative's fine of many tbings ; as of tbe vanity of earth- 
 discoiuse. jy tbings, and tbe benefit of tbings above. 
 Tbns, in general, but more particularly, by tliis, a man may 
 learn tbe necessity of tbe new bii'tb, tbe insuificiency of our 
 works, tbe need of Cbrist's rigbteousness, &c. Besides, by 
 tbis a man may learn, by talk, wbat it is to repent, to be- 
 lieve, to pray, to suffer, or tbe like ; by tbis also a man may 
 learn wbat are tbe great promises and consolations of tbe 
 gospel, to bis own comfort. Furtber, by tbis a man may 
 learn to refute false oijinions, to vindicate tbe trutb, and 
 also to instruct tbe ignoz*ant. 
 
 Faith, All tbis is true, and glad am I to hear tbese tbings 
 from you. 
 
 Talk. Alas ! tbe want of tbis is tbe cause wby so few 
 iinderstand tbe need of faitb, and tbe necessity of a work of 
 grace in tbeir soul, in order to eternal life ; but ignorantly 
 live in tbe works of tbe law, by wbicb a man can by no 
 means obtain tbe kingdom of beaven. 
 
 Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of tbese 
 is tbe gift of God ; no man attainetb to tbem by human in- 
 dustry, or only by tbe talk of tbem. 
 
 Talk. All tbis I know very well ; for a man can receive 
 
 nothing, except it be given him from hea- 
 
 O brave TalkatiTe. ?, • r ^ c i t n 
 
 ven; all is oi grace, not or works. I could 
 
 give you a hundred scriptures for tbe confirmation of tbis. 
 
 Faith. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing 
 that we shall at tbis time found our discourse upon ? 
 
 Tall:. What you wdl. I will talk of things heavenly, or 
 
 things earthly; things moral, or tbings evan- 
 O brave Talkative. t i . i • i . n • r. 
 
 geucal ; thmgs sacred, or thmgs profane ; 
 
 tbings past, or things to come ; tbings foreign, or things at 
 home ; things more essential, or tbiugs circumstantial ; pro- 
 vided that all be done to our profit. 
 Faithful beguiled ^«''^^*- ^ow did Faithfid begin to won- 
 by Talkative. jjgp. j^^^ stepping to Christian, (for he 
 
 walked all this wliile Ijy hiuiself,) he said to him, (but
 
 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 77 
 
 softly,) What a bravo compauion have "we got ! Surely this 
 
 man will make a very excellent pilgrim. 
 
 Chr. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This 
 
 man, with whom you are so taken, will be- 
 
 ., .,,,!,, 1-1 i s Christian makes a 
 
 guile, with that tongue oi his, twenty oi discovery of Taii.-a- 
 
 ,1 J.1 J. 1 -1 • J. tive, teUiiig Faithfii] 
 
 them that know him not. ,vho he was. 
 
 Faith. Do you know him then ? 
 
 Chr. Know him ! Yes, better thau he knows himself. 
 
 Faith. Pray, what is he ? 
 
 Clir. His name is Talkative ; he dwelleth in our town. I 
 wonder that you should be a stranger to him, only I consider 
 that our town is large. 
 
 Faith. Whose son is he ? And whereabout does he dwell? 
 
 Chr. He is the son of one Say -well ; he dwelt in Prating 
 Piow ; and is known of all that are acquainted with him, by 
 the name of Talkative in Prating P^ow ; and notwithstanding 
 his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. 
 
 Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. 
 
 Chr. That is, to them who have not thorough acquaint- 
 ance 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 pictui'es shew best at a distance, but, very near, more 
 unpleasing. 
 
 Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because 
 you smiled. 
 
 Chr. God forbid that I should jest (although I smiled) in 
 this matter, or that I shoidd accuse any falsely ! I will give 
 you a further discovery of him. This man is for any com- 
 pany, 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 ho 
 hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his 
 mouth ; religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or con- 
 versation; all he hath, L"eth in his tongue, and his religion is, 
 to make a noise therewith. 
 
 Faith. Say you so ! then am I in this man greatly de- 
 ceived.
 
 78 
 
 THE PILGEIM S PEOGEESS. 
 
 Chr. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the 
 proverb, "They say and do not," (Matt, xxiii. 3.) But the 
 Talkative talks, "kingdom of God is not in word, but in 
 but does not.' power," (1 Cor. iv. 20.) He talketh of 
 prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth ; but 
 he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his 
 family, and have observed him both at home and abroad ; 
 His house is empty ^"^^ I know what I say of him is the truth, 
 ofreiigiou. g^g iiouse is as empty of religion as the 
 white of an egg is of savour. There is there neither i^rayer, 
 nor sign of repentance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind 
 He is a stain to serves God far better than he. He is the 
 religion. ygjy gtarn, reproach, and shame of religion, 
 
 to all that know him ; it can hardly have a good word in all 
 tliat end of the town where he dwells, through him, (Rom. 
 ii. 24, 25.) Thus say the common people that know him, 
 The proverb that -^ saint abroad, and a devil at home. His 
 goes of him. poor family finds it so; he is such a 
 chiirl, such a raUer at, and so imi-eas enable -".vith his servants, 
 that they neither know how to do for, or speak to him. 
 Men that have any dealings with him, say it ia better to 
 Men shun to deal ^^^^ ^lih. a Turk than with him ; for fairer 
 with him. dealing they shaU have at their hands. 
 This Talkative (if it be jsossible) wiU go beyond them, de- 
 fraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he brings up 
 his sons to follow his steps ; and if he findeth in any of them 
 a foolish timoroiisness, (for so he calls the first appearance of 
 a tender conscience, ) he calls them fools and blockheads, and 
 by no means wiU employ them in much, or speak to their 
 commendations before others. For my part, I am of opinion, 
 that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and 
 fall ; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more. 
 Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe j^ou ; not 
 only because you say you know him, but also because, hke 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 bo as you say.
 
 THK pilgrim's peogress. 79 
 
 Chr. Had I known him no more than yon, I might per- 
 haps have thought of him, as, at the first, you did ; yea, had 
 he received this report at their hands only that are enemies 
 to religion, I should have thought it had been a slander — a 
 lot that often falls from bad men's moxiths upon good men's 
 names and professions ; but all these things, yea, and a 
 great many more as bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove 
 him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him j 
 they can neither call him brother, nor friend ; the very nam- 
 ing 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 shaU better observe this distinction. 
 
 Chr. They are two things, indeed, and are as diverse as 
 are the soul and the body ; for as the body without the soid 
 is but a dead carcass, so saying, if it be Ti^e carcass of 
 aJone, is but a dead carcass also. The soul religion, 
 
 of religion is the practical part: "Pure religion and imde- 
 filed, before God and the Father, is this, to visit the father- 
 less and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
 unspotted from th6 world," (James i. 27; see ver. 22-26.) 
 This Talkative is not aware of ; he thinks that hearing and 
 saying ^vill make a good Christian, and thus he deceiveth 
 his own sold. Hearing is biit as the sowing of the seed ; 
 talking is not sufficient to prove that fruit is indeed in the 
 heart and life ; and let us assure ourselves, that at the day 
 of doom men shall be judged according to their fruits, 
 (Matt, xiii., xxv.) It wiU not be said then, Did you believe? 
 but, "Were you doers, or talkers only ? and accordingly shall 
 they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our 
 harvest ; and you know men at harvest regard nothing but 
 fruit. Not that anything can be accepted that is not of 
 faith, but I speak this to shew you how insignificant the 
 profession of Talkative will be at that day. 
 
 Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which 
 he describeth the beast that is clean, (Lev, xi. ; Deut. xiv.) 
 He is such a one that parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud 5 
 
 \ ^
 
 80 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 not that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the cud 
 
 •r, -x,.^ , J only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet 
 
 Faithful cnnvmced *' "' 
 
 of the buduess of is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. 
 Tiilkative 
 
 And this truly resembleth Talkative ; he 
 
 cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge, he cheweth n])on 
 the word; but he divideth not the hoof, he parteth not with 
 the way of sinners ; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot 
 of a dog or bear, and therefore he is nnclean. 
 
 Chr. You have spoken, for aiight I know, the true gospel- 
 sense of those texts. And I. will add another thing : Paul 
 calleth some men, yea, and those great talkers, too, "sound- 
 ing brass and tinkling cymbals," that is, as he expounds them 
 Talkative like to '^ 'Another place, ' ' things without life, giving 
 
 things that soiuid sound," (1 Cor. xiii. 1-3, xiA'. 7.) Things 
 without hfe. . , ' \^ , , . .,,.,, r ■ ■, 
 
 without life, that is, without the true faith 
 
 and grace of the gospel ; and consequently, things that shall 
 
 never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that 
 
 are the children of life ; though their sound, by their talk, 
 
 be as if it were the tongue or voice of an angel. 
 
 Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but 
 I am as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him ? 
 
 Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall 
 find that he wiU soon be sick of your company too, except 
 God shall touch his heart, and turn it. 
 
 Faith. What would you have me to do ? 
 
 Clir. Why, go to him, and enter into some serioua dis- 
 course about the power of religion ; and ask him plainly 
 (when he has approved of it, for that he wiU) whether this 
 thing be set up in his heart, house, or conversation. 
 
 Faith. Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to 
 Talkative, Come, what cheer ? How is it now ? 
 
 Talk. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had a 
 great deal of talk by this time. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will, we will faU 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 ?
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGKESS. 81 
 
 TalL I perceive, tlieu, that our talk must be about tlie 
 power of tilings. Well, it is a very good Talkative's false 
 
 question, and I shall be willing to answer discorery of a work 
 
 , . . , of grace. 
 
 you. And take my answer m brief, tlius : 
 
 First, AVbere 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 shews itself by inclining the soid 
 to abhor its sin. 
 
 Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out 
 against, and abhorring of sin ? 
 
 Faith. Oh, a great deal. A man may cry out against sin 
 
 of policy, but he cannot abhor it, but by ^ ^^^j. 
 
 virtue of a godly autiiiathy against it. I against sin, no 
 
 ° •' ^ . . , sign of grace, 
 
 have heard many cry out agamst 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 woidd willmgly, 
 
 notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him, 
 
 (Gen. xxxix. 15.) Some cry out against sin, even as the 
 
 mother cries out against her child in her laj), when she 
 
 caUeth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging 
 
 and kissing it. 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 
 
 Faith. No, not T ; I am only for setting things right. 
 But what is the second thing whereby you would prove a 
 discovery of a work of grace iu 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 know- Great knowledge 
 ledge, maybe obtained in the mysteries of no sign of grace, 
 the gospel, and yet no work of grace iu the soul, (1 Cor. xiii.) 
 Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and 
 80 consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, "Do 
 you know all these things ? " and the discixiles had answered, 
 Yes ; he addeth, " Blessed are ye if ye do them." He dotli 
 not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing
 
 82 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 of them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with 
 doing : ' ' He that knoweth his master's will, and doeth it 
 not." A man may know like an angel, and yet be no 
 Christian, therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to 
 know is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters ; but to do 
 is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good 
 without knowledge; for without that, the heart is naught. 
 Knowledge and There is, therefore, knowledge and know- 
 knowledge, ledge. Knowledge that resteth in the bare 
 speculation of things; and knowledge that is accompanied 
 with the grace of faith and love ; which puts a man Tipon 
 doing even the wiU of God from the heart : the first of these 
 
 „ , , , will serve the talker ; but without the other 
 True knowledge ' 
 
 attended with en- the true Christian is not content. "Give 
 
 me understanding, and I shall keep thy law; 
 
 yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart," (Pa. cxix. 34.) 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch again ; this is not for editi- 
 cation. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you j)lease, propound another sign how 
 this work of grace discovereth itself where it is. 
 
 Talk. Not 1, for I see we shall not agree. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to 
 do it ? 
 
 Talk. You may use your liberty. 
 
 One good sign of Faith. A work of gi'ace in the soul dis- 
 sr^'^^- covereth itself, either to him that hath it, 
 
 or to standers by. 
 
 To him that hath it thus : It gives him conviction of sin, 
 especially of the defilement of his nature and the sin of 
 imbelief (for the sake of which he is sure to be damned, if 
 he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Jesus Christ), 
 (John xvi. 8 ; Kom. vii. 24 ; John xvi. 9 ; Mark xvi. 1 6. ) 
 This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and 
 Bhame for sin ; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the 
 Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing 
 with Mm for life, at the which he findeth hungerings and 
 thirstings after Tn^yn ; to which himgerings, &c., the promise
 
 THE PTLGHIM's PROGRESS. 83 
 
 is made, (Ps. xxxviii. 18; Jer. xxxi. 19; Ga]. ii. 16; Acta 
 iv. 12 ; Matt. v. 6 ; Rev. xxi. 6.) Notv, according to the 
 strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his joy 
 and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to 
 know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But 
 though I say it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but 
 seldom that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace ; 
 because his corxuptions now, and his abused reason, make 
 his mind to misjudge in this matter ; therefore, in him that 
 hath this work, there is required a very sound judgment 
 before he can, with steadiness, conclude that this is a work 
 of grace. 
 
 To others, it is thus discovered : — 
 
 1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ, 
 (Rom. X. 10 ; Pliil. i. 27 ; Matt. v. 19.) 
 
 2. By a life answerable tc^that confession; to wit, a Ufe of 
 holiness, heai-t-holiness, family -holiness, (if he hath a family,) 
 and by conversation-holiness in the world ; which, in the 
 general, teacheth him, inwardly, to abhor his sin, and him- 
 self for that, in secret ; to suppress it in his family, and to 
 promote holiness in the world ; not by talk only, as a hypo- 
 crite or talkative person may do, but by a practical sub- 
 jection, in faith and love, to the power of the Word, (John 
 xiv. 15; Ps. 1. 23; Job xlii. 5, 6; Ezekiel xx. 43.) And 
 now, sir, as to this brief description of the work of grace, 
 and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object, 
 object ; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a 
 second 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 fust port of this 
 description of it ? and doth your life and Another good sign 
 conversation testify the same ? or standeth "^ e^&oe. 
 
 yovx religion in word or in tongue, and not in deed and truth ? 
 Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than 
 you know the God above will say Amen to ; and also nothing 
 but what your conscience can justify you in; "for, not he
 
 84 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 tliat commendetli liimself ia approved, but whom the Lord 
 commendeth." Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when 
 my conversation, and all my neighbours, tell me I lie, is great 
 wickedness. 
 
 Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but, recover- 
 ing himself, thus he replied : You come now to experience, to 
 
 „, „ ,. , conscience, and God : and to appeal to him 
 
 Talkative not ' ' ■■■ -^ 
 
 pleased with Faith- for justification of what is spoken. This 
 
 kind of discourse I did not expect ; nor am 
 
 I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because I 
 
 count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you 
 
 to be a catechiser, and, though you should so do, yet I may 
 
 refuse to make you my judge. But, I pray, will you tell me 
 
 why you ask me such questions ? 
 
 Faith. Because T saw you forward to talk, and because T 
 
 knew not that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to 
 
 „^ ^^ tell you aU the truth, I have heard of you, 
 
 The reasons why '' .... 
 
 FaitiiMput to him that you are a man whose religion lies in 
 
 talk, and that your conversation gives this 
 
 your mouth-profession the lie. They say, you are a spot 
 
 ^ .,, , „ -. among Christians ; and that relidon fareth 
 Faithful's plain ° ' ■= 
 
 dealing with Talka- the worse for your ungodly conversation ; 
 
 that some have already stumbled at your 
 
 wicked ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed 
 
 thereby ; your religion, and an ale-house, and covetousness, 
 
 and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain-company 
 
 keeping, &c., will stand together. The i)roverb is true of 
 
 you which is said of a whore, to wit, that she is a shame to 
 
 all women ; so are you a shame to all professors. 
 
 Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports and to judge 
 
 „ „ ,. „. so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude 
 
 Talkative flings J J 
 
 away from Faith- you are some peevish or melancholy man, 
 
 not fit to be discoursed with ; and so adieu. 
 
 Chr. Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I 
 
 told you how it would happen : your words and his lusts 
 
 could not agree ; he had rather leave your company than 
 
 reform his life. But he is gone, as I said ; let him go, the 
 
 i
 
 THE PILGEIM'S PROGRESS. 85 
 
 ios3 is no man's but his own ; lie has saved us the trouble 
 
 of coins from him : for he continuing (as 1 
 
 ^ °, -,, 1 X 1, • 1 111 A good riddance, 
 
 suppose he will do) as he is, he would nave 
 
 been but a blot in our company : besides, the apostle says, 
 
 "From such withdraw thyself." 
 
 Faith. But I am glad we had this little discoiu'se with him ; 
 it may happen that he will thiuk of it again : however, I have 
 dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood, if he 
 perisheth. 
 
 Clir. 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 nostrils of 
 many, as it doth ; for they are these talkative fools whose 
 religion is only in word, and are debauched and vain in their 
 conversation, that (being so much admitted into the fellow- 
 ship of the godly) do puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, 
 and grieve the sincere. I wish tliat 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 bis plumes t 
 How bravely doth he speak 1 How he presumes 
 To drive down aU before him I But so soon 
 As Faitliful talks of heart-work, like the moon 
 That 's past the full, into the wane he goes. 
 And so wiU aU, but he that heaet-wouk knows.'' 
 
 Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the 
 way, and so made that way easy which would otherwise, no 
 doubt, have been tedious to them ; for now they went 
 through a wilderness. 
 
 Now, when they were got almost quite out of this wilder- 
 ness. Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one 
 coming after them, and he knew him. Oh ! said Faithful to 
 his brother, who comes yonder? Then Christian looked, 
 and said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my 
 good friend too, said Faithful, for it was lie Evangelist overtakea 
 that set me the way to the gate. Now was "'^™ az^n. 
 Evangelist come up to them, and thus saluted them : — ■
 
 86 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Evan. Peace be witli you, dearly beloved ; and peace be to 
 your helpers. 
 
 Chr, Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist; tbe sight 
 They are glad at the o^ ^'^Y countenance brings to my remem- 
 
 Bight of him. brance thy ancient kindness and unwearied 
 labouring for my eternal good. 
 
 Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful. 
 Thy company, sweet Evangelist, how desirable it is to us 
 poor pilgrims ! 
 
 Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, 
 my friends, since the time of our last pai-ting ? What have 
 you met with, and how have you behaved yourselves? 
 
 Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that 
 had happened to them in the way ; and how, and with what 
 difficulty, they had arrived to that place. 
 
 Evan. Eight glad am I, said EvangeHst, not that you have 
 
 His exhortation ™6*' "«^th trials, but that you have been 
 to them. victors; and for that you have, not with - 
 
 Btanding many weaknesses, continued in the way to this 
 very day. 
 
 I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own 
 sake and yours. I have sowed, and you have reaped : and 
 the day is coming, when both he that sowed and they that 
 reaped shall rejoice together; that is, if you hold out: "for 
 in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not," (John iv. 36; 
 Gal. v\. 9. ) The crown is before you, and it is an incorrup- 
 tible one; "so rim, that you may obtain it," (1 Cor. ix. 
 24-27.) Some there be that set out for this crown, and, after 
 they have gone far for it, another comes in, and takes it from 
 them : hold fast, therefore, that you have ; let no man take 
 your crown, (Eev. iii, 11.) You are not yet out of the gim- 
 shot of the devil ; you have not resisted unto blood, striving 
 against sin; let the kingdom be always before you, and 
 believe steadfastly concerning things that are invisible. Let 
 nothing that is on this side the other world get within you; 
 and, above all, look well to yoiu* own hearts, and to the lusta 
 thereof, "for they are deceitful above all things, and despe-
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 87 
 
 rately wicked;" set your faces like a flint; you have all 
 power in heaven and earth on your side. 
 
 Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation; but 
 told him, withal, that they would have him ^^^^ ^^ ^j^^^^^ 
 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 luito them, and also how they might 
 resist and overcome them. To which request Faithful also 
 consented. So Evangelist began as followeth : — 
 
 Evan. My sons, you have heard, in the words of the truth 
 of the gospel, that you must, through many He predicteth 
 
 tribulations, enter into the kingdom of ^^^ me?t^ with 'm 
 heaven. And, again, that in every city I^^S'themno 
 bonds and afllictions abide in you; and steadfastness. 
 therefore you cannot expect that you shoidd go long on your 
 pilgi'image without them, in some sort or other. You have 
 found something of the truth of these testimonies upon you 
 already, and more wiU immediately follow ; for now, as you 
 see, you are almost out of this wilderness, and therefore you 
 win soon come into a town that you will by and by see before 
 you; and in that tovra you wiU be hardly beset with enemies, 
 Avho wiU 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 wiU give you a crown of life. He ^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ .^ 
 that shall die there, although his death will yiu be there to suf- 
 
 ^ fer, will have the 
 
 be imnatiu-al, and his pain perhaps great, better of his bro- 
 he will yet have the better of his fellow ; not 
 only because he will be ai-rived 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 fidfilled what I have here 
 related, then remember your friend, and quit yourselves like 
 men, and commit the keeping of your souls to your God in 
 •well-doing, as imto a faithful Creator. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of
 
 88 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 tlie wilderness, they presently saw a town before them, and 
 the name of that town is Vanity ; and at the town there is a 
 fair kept, called Vanity Fair : it is kept all the year long ; it 
 beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the town where it 
 is kept is lighter than vanity ; and also because all that is 
 there sold, or that cometh thithei', is vanity. As is the 
 saying of the wise, "All that cometh is vanity," (Eccles. i. 
 ii. 11-17, xi, 8; Isa. xi. 17.) 
 
 This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient 
 standing ; I will shew you the original of it. 
 
 Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims 
 
 The antiquity of walking to the Celestial City, as these two 
 this fair. honest persons are : and Beelzebub, Apol- 
 
 lyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the 
 path that the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay 
 tlirough this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a 
 fair ; a fair wherein shoidd be sold all sorts of vanity, and 
 
 The merchandise that it should last all the year long : there- 
 of this fair. £Qj,g ^j. ^ijjg £j^jj, j^j.g g^y such merchandise 
 
 sold, as hoiises, lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, 
 titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of 
 all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, mas- 
 ters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, soids, silver, gold, pearls, 
 precious stones, and what not. 
 
 And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be 
 seen juggling, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and 
 rogues, and that of every kind. 
 
 Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, 
 miu'ders, adulteries, false swearers, and that of a blood-red 
 colour. 
 
 And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several 
 
 rows and streets, under their proper names, where such and 
 
 such Avares are vended ; so here likewise you have the proper 
 
 places, rows, streets, (viz., countries and kingdoms,) where the 
 
 The streets of wares of this fair are soonest to be found. 
 
 this fair. jjjjj.^, ig ^j^g Britain Row, the French Row, 
 
 the Italian R<jw, the Spanish Row, the German Row, 
 
 I
 
 The pleasures sold in Vanity Fair. — Page 88.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 89 
 
 where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in 
 other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief of all the fair, 
 BO the ware of Kome and her merchandise is greatly pro- 
 moted in this fail- ; only our English nation, with some others, 
 have taken a dislike thereat. 
 
 Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just 
 through this town where this lusty fair is kept ; and he that 
 wiU go to the City, and yet not go through this toAvn, must 
 needs "go out of the world," (1 Cor. v, 10.) Christ went through 
 The Prince of princes himself, when here, thisfau-. 
 
 went through this town to his own country, and that upon a 
 fair day too; yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the chief 
 lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities ; 
 yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but 
 have done him reverence as he went through the town, 
 (Matt. iv. 8; Luke iv. 5-7.) Yea, because he was such a 
 person of honour, Beelzebub had him from street to street, 
 and shewed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little 
 time, that he might, if possible, allure the dirist bought no- 
 Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his *'>i"s in this fair, 
 vanities ; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and there- 
 fore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing 
 upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, 
 of long standmg, and a very great fair. Now The pilgrims enter 
 these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go the fair. 
 
 through this fair. Well, so they did : but, behold, even as 
 they entered into the fair, all the people in the fair were 
 moved, and the town itself as it were in a 
 hubbub aboiit them ; and that for several about them. 
 reasons: for — 
 
 First, the pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment 
 as was diverse from the raiment of any that ti,^ ^^g^ g^„gg ^f 
 traded in that fair. The people, therefore, the hubbub. 
 of the fair, made a great gazing upon them : some said tiiey 
 were fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are 
 outlandish men, (I Cor. ii. 7, 8.) 
 
 Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they
 
 90 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 did likewise at their speech ; for few could understaud what 
 
 Second cause of ^^^J Said ; they naturally spoke the language 
 
 the hubbub. of Canaan, but they that kept the fair were 
 
 the men of this world; so that, from one end of the fair to 
 
 the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other. 
 
 Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the mer- 
 Third cause of the chandisers was, that these pilgrims set very 
 hubbub. light by aU their wares ; they cared not so 
 
 much as to look upon them; and if they called upon them to 
 buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, 
 "Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity," and look 
 upwards, signifying that their trade and traffic was in heaven, 
 (Ps. cxix. 37; Phil. iii. 19, 20.) 
 
 One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, 
 
 Fourth cause of *» say unto them, What wiU ye buy? But 
 
 the hubbub. they, looking gravely upon him, answered, 
 
 "AVe buy the truth," (Prov. xxiii. 23.) At that there was 
 
 an occasion taken to despise the men the 
 They are mocked. , . , , • 
 
 more ; some mocking, some tauntmg, some 
 
 speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to 
 
 The fair in a smite them. At last things came to a 
 
 hubbub. hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch 
 
 that all order was confounded, l^ow was word presently 
 
 brmught to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, 
 
 and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these 
 
 men into examination, about whom the fair was almost 
 
 overturned. So the men were brought to 
 
 They are examined. • .• j i.i j.i j. j. i.r. 
 
 examination ; and they that sat upon them, 
 
 asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what 
 
 they did there, in such an imusual garb? 
 They tell who •' , , ' ^ , . ° . 
 
 they are, andwhence The men told them that they were pilgrnns 
 
 ^^''^ ' and strangers in the world, and that they 
 
 ■were going to their own coimtry, which was the heavenly 
 Jci-usalem, (Heb. ix. 13-16;) and that they had given no 
 occasion to the men of the to-\vn, 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 they
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 91 
 
 would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they 
 that were appointed to examine them did not believe them 
 to be any other than bedlams and mad, or They are not be- 
 else such aa came to put all things into a ''®^®<^- 
 confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat 
 them, and besmeared them with dirt, and They are put in 
 then put them into the cage, that they the cage. 
 might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. 
 
 Behold Vanity Fair ! the pilgi-ims there 
 
 Are chain'd and stand beside : 
 Even so it was our Lord pass'd here, 
 
 And on Mount Calvary died. 
 
 There, therefore, they lay for some time, and were made 
 the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge, the 
 gi-eat one of the fair laughing still at all that befell them. 
 But the men being patient, and not ren- Their behaviour 
 dering railing for railing, but contrariwise, in the cage, 
 blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for 
 injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observ- 
 ing, and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and 
 blame the baser sort for their continual abuses done by them 
 to the men; they, therefore, in angry manner, let fly at 
 them again, counting them as bad as the The men of the fair 
 men in the cage, and teUing them that they ^^,^1,°^^ Xu! 
 seemed confederates, and shoidd be made these two men. 
 partakers of their misfortunes. The other replied, that for 
 aught they could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and 
 intended nobody any harm ; and that there were many that 
 traded in their fair that were more worthy to be put into 
 the cage, yea, and piUory too, than were the men they had 
 abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, 
 the men behaving themselves all the whde very wisely and 
 soberly before them, they f eU to some blows ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^,^^ 
 
 amona themselves, and did harm one to authors of this dis- 
 
 *' , turbance. 
 
 another. Then were these two poor men 
 
 brought before their examiners again, and there charged as 
 
 being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair.
 
 02 THE pilgeim's proghess. 
 
 So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon thein, and 
 They are led up l^d them in chains up and down the fair, 
 cb.ain°,7or''a to'ror ^o^-' ^n example and a terror to others, lest 
 to others. any should speak in theii' behalf, or join 
 
 themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved 
 themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and 
 shame that was cast upon them, with so much meekness and 
 
 . ,, patience, that it won to their side, though 
 
 Some of the men ■"■ ' _ ' o 
 
 of the fair won to but few in comparison of the rest, several 
 
 of the men in the fair. This put the other 
 
 party yet into greater rage, insomuch that they concluded 
 
 „, . , the death of these two men. Wherefore 
 
 Their aaversa- 
 
 ries resolve to kill they threatened, that the cage nor ii-ons 
 should serve their turn, but that they should 
 die, for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of 
 the fair. 
 
 Then were they remanded to the cage again, until further 
 order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and 
 made their feet fast in the stocks. 
 
 Here, therefore, they called again to mind what they had 
 heard from their faithfid friend Evangelist, and were the 
 more confirmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told 
 them woiild 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 praferment : 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 shoiild be otherwise disposed of. 
 
 Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought 
 Tliey are again them forth to their trial, in order to their 
 and after^'broulht Condemnation. When the time was come, 
 *" ''■''''• they were brought before their enemies and 
 
 arraigned. The Judge's name was Lord Hate-good. Their 
 indictment was one and the same in substance, though some- 
 what varying in form, the contents whereof were this : — 
 
 " T]iat they were enemies to and distui-bers of their trade;
 
 THIS PILGEIM'a PKOGEE-S. 93 
 
 that they had made commotious and divisious in the town, 
 and had won a party to their own most dangeroiis opinions, 
 in contempt of the law of their prince." Their indictmeut. 
 
 Now, Faithful, play the man, speak for thy God : 
 Fear not the wicked's malice, nor their rod : 
 Speak boldly, man, the truth is on thy side : 
 Die for it, and to life in triumph ride. 
 
 Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set him- 
 self against that which hath set itself against pjiithful's answer 
 Him that is higher than the highest. And, for himself, 
 said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man 
 of peace ; the parties that were won to us, were won by be- 
 holding onr 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 aU his angels. 
 
 Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught 
 to say for their lord the king against the prisoner at the 
 bar, shoidd forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So 
 there came in three witnesses, to wit. Envy, Superstition, and 
 Pickthank. They were then asked if they knew the prisoner 
 at the bar ; and what they had to say for their lord the king 
 against him. 
 
 Then stood forth Envy ; and said to this effect : My Lord, 
 
 I have known this man a long time, and will attest upon 
 
 my oath before this honourable bench that 
 
 Envy begins, 
 ne 13 — ■ 
 
 Judge. Hold! Give him his oath. (So they sware him. ) 
 Then he said — 
 
 Envy. My Lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausible 
 name, is one of the vilest men in our country. He neither 
 regardeth j)rince 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 myseK affirnx 
 that Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity 
 were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled-
 
 94 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 By wliicli saying, my Lord, ]ie dotli at once not only con- 
 clemn all our laudable doings, but ns in the doing of them. 
 
 Judge. Then did the Judge say to him, Hast thou any 
 more to say? 
 
 Envy. My Lord, I could say much more, only I -would not 
 be tedious to the court. Yet, if need be, when the other 
 gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than anything 
 shall be wanting that will despatch him, T will enlarge my 
 testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by. 
 
 Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the 
 prisoner. They also asked, what he could say for their lord 
 the king against him. Then they sware him; so he began. 
 
 Super. My Lord, I have no great acquaintance with this 
 Superstition man, nor do I desire to have further know- 
 follows, ledge 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, 
 aud such by which a man could by no means please God. 
 Which sayings of his, my Lord, your Lordship very well 
 knows, what necessarily thence wiU follow, to wit, that we 
 do still worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall 
 be damned; and this is that which I have to say. 
 
 Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew, in 
 behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Pick. My Lord, and you gentlemen all. This fellow T have 
 
 PicVtliauk's known of a long time, and have heard him 
 
 testimony. speak things that ought not be spoke ; for 
 
 he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath 
 
 Sins are all lords spoken contemptibly of his honourable 
 
 and great ones, fiends, whose names are the Lord Old 
 Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the 
 Lord Desire of Vain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having 
 Greedy, Avith 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
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 95 
 
 you, my Lord, wlio are now appointed to be his judge, call- 
 ing you an ungodly ^dllain^ with many other such like vilify- 
 ing 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 gentle- 
 men have witnessed against thee ? 
 
 Faith. ]SIay I speak a few words in my own defence ? 
 
 Judge. Sirrah ! sirrah ! thou deservest to live no longer, 
 but to be slain immediately upon the place ; yet, that all 
 men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what 
 thoii, vile runagate, hast to say. 
 
 Faith. 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr Envy hath 
 spoken, I never said aught but this, That Faithful's defence 
 what rule, or laws, or customs, or people, ofiumself. 
 were flat against the Word of God, are diametrically oppo- 
 site to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince 
 me of my error, and I am ready here before you to make 
 my recantation. 
 
 2. As to the second, to wit, Mr Superstition, and his 
 charge against me, I said only this, That in the worship of 
 God there is required a Divine faith ; but there can be no 
 Divine faith without a Divine revelation of the will of God. 
 Therefore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God that is 
 not agreeable to Divine revelation, cannot be done but by a 
 human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. 
 
 3. As to what Mr Pickthank hath said, I say, (avoiding 
 terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like,) that the 
 pi-ince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attendants, 
 by this gentleman named, are more fit for a being in hell, 
 than in this town and country: and so, the Lord have mercy 
 upon me ! 
 
 Then the Judge called to the jury, (wlio all this while 
 stood by, to hear and observe :) Gentlemen jhe Judge's speech 
 of the jury, you see this man about whom *" *^® ^"'y- 
 so great an uproar hath been made in this town. You have
 
 96 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 also heard ■what these worthy gentlemen have witnessed 
 agaiusb him. Also you have heard his reply and confession. 
 It lieth now in yonr breasts to hang him or save his life ; but 
 yet I think meet to instruct you into oiu' law. 
 
 There was an Act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, 
 servant to our prince, that lest those of a contrary religion 
 shoidd multiply and grow too strong for him, their males 
 should be thrown into the river, (Exod. i.) There was also 
 an Act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, 
 another of his servants, that whosoever would not fall down 
 aud worship his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery 
 furnace, (Dan. iii.) There was also an Act made in the days 
 of Darius, that whoso, for some time, called upon any god 
 but him, should be cast into the lions' den, (Dan. vi.) Now 
 tlie substance of these laws this rebel has broken, not only in 
 thought, (which is not to be borne,) bat also in word and 
 deed; which must therefore needs be intolerable. 
 
 For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a siiijposition, 
 to prevent mischief, no crime being yet aj)parent ; but here 
 is a crime apparent. For the second and third, you pee he 
 disputeth against our religion ; and for the treason he hath 
 confessed, he deserveth to die the death. 
 
 Then went the jury out, whose names were, Mr Blind- 
 The jury and their "laHj ^^^^ No-good, Mr Malice, Mr Love- 
 names, i^gt;^ jij. Live-loose, Mr Heady, Mr High- 
 mind, Mr Enmity, Mi" Liar, Mr Cruelty, Mr Hate-light, and 
 Mr Implacable ; who every one gave in his private verdict 
 against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously 
 concluded to bring him in guilty before the Judge. And 
 first, among themselves, Mr Bhnd-man, the foreman, said, 
 Every one's private ^ ^^e clearly that this man is a heretic, 
 verdict. Then faaid 'Mr Xo-good, Away with such a 
 fellow from the earth. Ay, said AL.' 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 wovdd always 
 be condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr 
 Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr High-miud. My heart
 
 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 97 
 
 riseth against him, said Mx Enmity. He is a rogue, said 
 
 Mr Liar. Hanging is too good for him, said Mr Cruelty. 
 
 Let us despatch him out of the way, said Mr- Hate-light. 
 
 Then said Jkli- Implacahle, Might I have all the world given 
 
 me, I could not be reconciled to him ; there- 
 
 j. , . ,,.,,. •, . . .., . They conclude to 
 
 fore, let us forthwith bring him m guilty of bring him in guilty 
 
 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 coidd be invented. 
 
 They, therefore, brought him out, to do with him according 
 to their law ; and, first, they scourged him, The cruel death 
 then they buffeted him, then they lanced his °^ Faithful. 
 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 Faithfid, 
 
 , ,. , .,,' A chariot and 
 
 who (so soon as his adversaries had de- horses wait to take 
 
 spatched him) was taken up iato it, and 
 
 straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound 
 
 of trumpet, the nearest way to the celestial gate. 
 
 Brave Faithful, bravely done In word and deed; 
 Judge, witnesses, and jury have, instead 
 Of overcoming thee, but shewn their rage : 
 When they are dead, thou 'It live from age to age. 
 
 But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was re- 
 manded back to prison. So he there re- christian is still " 
 raained for a space ; but He that ovenndes *^'®- 
 
 all things, having the jiower of their rage in his own hand, 
 so wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped 
 them, and went his way j and as he went, he sang, saying — 
 
 " Well, Faithful, tliou hast faithfully profest. 
 Unto thy Lord ; with whom thou ehalt be blest, 
 When faithless ones, with aU their vain delights, ChrStian" made^ol 
 Are crying out under their hellish plights : FalthfiU after his 
 
 Sing, Faithful, sing, and let tliy name survive ; feath. 
 For, though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive." 
 
 G
 
 98 THE pilgrim's pkogeess. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth 
 Christian has an- Jilone, for there was one whose name was 
 other comranion. Hopefiil, (being made so by the beholding 
 . of Christian and Faithfiil in their words and behaviour, in 
 their sufferings at the fair,) who joined himself imto him, 
 and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he 
 would be his companion. Thus, one died to bear testimony 
 to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes, to be a com- 
 
 , panion with Christian in his pilsrimacre. 
 There are more of -"^ j. o o 
 
 the naeu of the fair This Hopeful also told Christian, that there 
 will follow. ^ • 4.1 J- • 
 
 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 fait. 
 
 They overtake ^^^Y overtook one that was going before 
 By-ends. them, whose name was By-ends : so they 
 said to him, What coimtryman, su-? and how far go you this 
 way? He told them that he came from the town of Fair- 
 speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them 
 not his name. 
 
 From Fair-speech! said Christian. Is there any good that 
 lives there? (Prov. xxxi. 25.) 
 
 By-ends. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. 
 
 Chr. Pray, sir, what may I call you? said Christian. 
 
 By-ends. I am a stranger to you, and you to me : if you 
 
 By-ends loath to ^e going this way, I shall be glad of your 
 teU his name. company ; if not, I must be content. 
 
 Chr, This town of Fair-sx)eech, said Christian, I have 
 heard of; and, as I remember, they say, it is a wealthy 
 place. 
 
 By-ends. Yes, I wiU assure you that it is ; and 1 have very 
 many rich kindred there. 
 
 Chr. Pray, who are your kindred there ? if a man may be 
 so bold. 
 
 By-ends. Almost the whole town; and in particular, my 
 Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair- 
 speech, (from whose ancestors that town first took its name,) 
 also Mr Smooth-man, IVIr Facing-both-waya, JVIi' Any -thing ,
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 99 
 
 and the parsou of our parish, Mr Two-tongues, waa my 
 mother's own brother by father's side ; and to tell you the 
 truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my 
 great-grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way and 
 rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same 
 occupation. 
 
 Chr. Are you a married man? 
 
 By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the 
 daughter of a virtuous woman ; she was my The wife and kin- 
 Lady Feigning's daughter, therefore she d^ed of By-ends. 
 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 dififer 
 in rehgion from those of the stricter sort, -^yijere By-ends 
 
 vet but in two small points : first, we never differs from others 
 •' • -11 m rehgion. 
 
 strive against wind and tide ; secondly, we 
 
 are always most zealous when Eeligion goes in his silver 
 
 slippers; we love much to walk with him in the street, if 
 
 the Sim shines, and the people applaud him. 
 
 Then Cliristian stepped a little aside to his fellow. Hopeful, 
 saying. It runs in my mind that this is one By-ends of Fair- 
 speech ; and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our com- 
 pany as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask 
 him ; methiuks he should not be ashamed of his name. So 
 Christian came up with him again, and said. Sir, you talk as 
 if you knew something more than all the world doth ; and if 
 I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of 
 you : Is not your name Mr By-ends, of Fair-speech ? 
 
 By-ends. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nickname 
 that is given me by some that cannot abide me : and I must 
 be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men have 
 borne theirs before me. 
 
 Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you 
 by this name ? 
 
 By-ends. Never, never ! The worst that ever T did to 
 give them an occasion to give me this name was, that I had 
 always the Inck to jmnp in my judgment with the present
 
 100 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS, 
 
 He desires to keep 
 company with Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 way of the times, wliatever it was, and my cliance was to 
 How By-eiida got g^* thereby; but if things are thus cast 
 his name. uj^on me, let me count them a blessing; but 
 let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach. 
 
 Chr. I thought, indeed, that you were the man that I 
 heard of ; and to tell you what I think, I fear this name 
 belongs to you more properly than you are willuig we shoidd 
 think it doth. 
 
 By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, 
 I cannot help it ; you shall find me a fair 
 comx)any-keeper, if you will still admit me 
 your associate. 
 
 Chr. If you will go with us, you must go against wind 
 and tide; the which, I pei'ceive, is against your opinion ; 
 you must also own Religion in his rags, as well as when in his 
 silver slippers ; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, 
 as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. 
 
 By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; 
 leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. 
 
 Chr. Not a step further, unless you will do in what I pro- 
 pound as we. 
 
 Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, 
 since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go 
 with you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even 
 go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of 
 my company. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful 
 
 By-ends and Chris- forsook him, and kept their distance before 
 
 tiau part. j^jj^^ . j^^^j^ q^q ^f tj^em looking back, saw 
 
 three men following Mr By-ends, and behold, as they came 
 up with him, he made them a very low cong6 ; and they also 
 He has nei7 cora- gavc him a compliment. The men's names 
 pauiona. ^gj-g j^j. Hold-the-world, Mr Money -love, 
 
 and Mr Save-all ; men that Mr By-ends had formerly been 
 acquainted with; for in their minority they were school- 
 fellows, and were taught by one Mr Gripe-man, a school- 
 master in Love-gain, which is a market towTi in the county
 
 THE PILOraM's PROGRESS. 101 
 
 o{ Coveting, in the nortli. Tliis sclioolmaster taught thcni 
 the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, 
 lying, or by pxitting on a guise of religion ; and these foui" 
 gentlemen had attained much of the art of then* master, 
 so that they coiJd 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 Hopeful were yet 
 within view. ) 
 
 By-ends. They are a couple of far countrymen, that, 
 after their mode, are going on pilgrim- By-ends' character 
 
 of the PiJgrims. 
 
 age. 
 
 Money-love. Alas ! Why did they not stay, that we 
 might have had their good company ? for they, and we, aud 
 you, sir, I hope, are all going on a pilgrimage. 
 
 By-ends. We are so, indeed ; but the men before us are so 
 ricid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so 
 lightly esteem the opinions of others, that let a man be never 
 so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they 
 thrust him quite out of their company. 
 
 Save-all. That is bad, but we read of some that are 
 righteous overmuch ; and such men's rigidness prevails with 
 them to judge and condemn all but themselves. But, I 
 pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you 
 differed ? 
 
 By-ends. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, con- 
 clude that it is duty to rush on tlieir journey all weathers; 
 and I am for waiting for wind aud tide. They are for hazard- 
 ing all for God at a clap ; and I am for taking all advantages to 
 secure my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, 
 though all other men are against them ; but I am for religion 
 in what, and so 'far as the times, and my safety, will bear it. 
 They are for Keligion when in rags and contempt; but I am 
 for him when he walks in his golden slippers, in the smi- 
 shine, and with applause. 
 
 Mr Ilold-the-world. Ay, and hold you there still, good
 
 102 THE PILGEIM'S PEOaEESS. 
 
 J.Ir By-ends ; for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, 
 tliat, having the liberty to keep what he hag, shall be so 
 unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents ; it is best 
 to make hay when the sun shines ; you see how the bee lieth 
 still aU winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit 
 with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes 
 sunshine ; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet 
 let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For 
 my part, I hke that religion best that will stand with the 
 security of God's good blessings ujito us; for who can 
 imagine, that is nded by his reason, since God has bestowed 
 upon us the good things of this life, but that He woidd have 
 lis keep them for his sake? Abraham and Solomon grew 
 rich in religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay 
 up gold as dust. But he must not be such as the men before 
 us, if they be as you have described them. 
 
 Mr Save-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, 
 and therefore there needs no more words about it. 
 
 Mr Money-love. No, there needs no more words about 
 this matter, indeed; for he that believes neither Scripture 
 nor reason, (aod you see we have both on our side,) neither 
 knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. 
 
 Mr By-ends, My brethren, we are, as you see, going all 
 on pilgrimage ; and for om* better diversion from things that 
 are bad, give me leave to propound imto you this question : — 
 
 Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, &c., should 
 have an advantage lie before him, to get the good blessings 
 of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them 
 except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinarily 
 zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with 
 before ; may he not use these means to attain his end, and 
 yet be a right honest man ? 
 
 Mr Money-love. I see the bottom of your question ; and, 
 with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape 
 you an answer. And first, to speak to your question as it 
 concerns a minister himself: Suppose a minister, a worthy 
 man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has in hia
 
 THE pilgeim's peogress, 103 , 
 
 eye a gi'eater, more fat, and plump by far ; Jie has also now 
 an opportunity of getting of it, yet so as by being more 
 studious, by preacliing more frequently, and zealoiisly, and, 
 because the temper of tlie people rec^uii'es it, by altering of 
 some of bis princix^les; for my part, I see no reason but a 
 man may do this, (p;ovided be bas 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 improve his parts, which 
 is according to the mind of God. 
 
 3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his 
 people, by dissenting, to serve them, some of his luinciples, 
 this argueth — (1) That he is of a self-denying temper; (2) Of 
 fl sweet and winning deportment; and so (3) more fit for the 
 ministerial function . 
 
 4. I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a small 
 for a great, should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous; 
 but rather, since he has improved in his parts and industry 
 thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the 
 opportunity put into his hand to do good. 
 
 And now to the second part of the question, which con- 
 cerns the tradesman you mentioned. Suppose such an one 
 to have but a poor employ in the world, but by becoming 
 rehgious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, 
 or more and far better customers to his shoj) ; for my part, 
 I see no reason but that this may be lawfully done. For 
 why — 
 
 1. To become religious is a virtue, by what means soever 
 a man becomes so. 
 
 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to 
 my shop. 
 
 3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming religious,
 
 104 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROQKESS. 
 
 gets tliat which is good, of them that are goocl, by becoming 
 good himself; so then here is a good wife, and good cus- 
 tomers, and good gain, and all these by becoming religious, 
 which is good ; therefore, to become religious, to get all these, 
 is a good and profitable design. 
 
 This answer, thus made by this Mr Money -love to Mr By- 
 ends' question, was highly applauded by them all ; wherefore 
 they concluded, iipon 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 because they had opposed Mr By-ends before. So 
 they called after them, and they stopped, and stood still till 
 they came up to them ; but they concluded, as they went, 
 that not Mr By-ends, but old Mr Hold-the-world, should 
 propound the question to them, because, as they supposed, 
 their answer to him would be without the remainder of that 
 heat that was kindled betwixt Mr By-ends and them, at their 
 parting a little before. 
 
 So they came up to each other, and after a short salutation, 
 Mr Hold-the-world propoimded the question to Christian and 
 his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they could. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may 
 answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful 
 to follow Christ for loaves, (as it is in the sixth of John,) how 
 much more abominable is it to make of him and religion a 
 stalking-horse, to get and enjoy the world? Nor do we find 
 any other than heathens, hypociites, devils, and witches, 
 that are of this opinion. 
 
 1. Heathens; for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind 
 to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that there was 
 no ways for them tc come at them, but by becoming circum- 
 cised ; they say to their companions, if every male of us be 
 circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, 
 and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be oiu-s ? 
 Their daughter and their cattle were that which thev sought
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 105 
 
 to obtain, and their religion the stalking-horse they made use 
 of to come at them. Read the whole story, (Gen. xxxiv. 
 20-23.) 
 
 2. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion; 
 long prayers were their pretence, but to get widows' houses 
 was their intent; and greater damnation was from God theu' 
 judgment, (Luke xx. 46, 47.) 
 
 3. Judas the devil was also of this religion ; he was reli- 
 gious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was 
 therein; but he was lost, cast away, and the very son of 
 perdition. 
 
 4. Simon the witch was of this religion too ; for he would 
 have had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money 
 therewith; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was accord- 
 ing, (Acts viii. 19-22.) 
 
 5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that 
 takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for 
 the world; for so surely as Judas resigned the world in 
 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 approved 
 of the soimdness of Christian's answer ; so there was a great 
 sdence among them. Mr By-ends and his company also stag- 
 gered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopefid might 
 outgo them. Then said Christian to his fellow. If these men 
 cannot stand before the sentence of men, what will they do 
 with the sentence of God? And if they are mute when 
 dealt with by vessels of clay, what wiU they do when 
 they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire? 
 
 Then Christian and Hopefid outwent 
 
 . .11 , ^''s ^^^6 that pil- 
 
 them again, and went till they came at a grima have is but 
 
 delicate plain called Ease, where they went 
 
 with much content; but that plain was but narrow, so they
 
 106 
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 were quickly got over it. Xow at tlie furtlier side of tliat plain 
 lucre HiU a dan- "^^ ^ little HHl called Lucre, and in that 
 gerous hui. jjjjj g^ silver mine, whicli some of them tliat 
 had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of it, had 
 turned aside to see ; but going too near the brink of the pit, 
 the ground being deceitful under them, broke, and they were 
 slain; some also had been maimed there, and could not, to 
 their dying day, be their own men again. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that a little oflf the road, over 
 
 Demas at the Hill against the silver mine, stood Demas (gentle- 
 
 cSian^nd Hop*^ man-like) to caU to passengers to come and 
 
 ful to come to him. ggg, ^^y^q g^id to Christian and his fellow. 
 
 Ho ! tiu-n aside hither, and I will shew you a thing. 
 
 CJt7: "What thing so deserving as to turn ue out of the way 
 to see it? 
 
 Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in it for 
 treasure. If you will come, with a little pains you may 
 richly provide for yourselves. 
 
 „ , , Hope. Then said Hopeftd, Let us go see. 
 
 Hopeful tempted -' .n^, ..-r-. •. i 
 
 to go, but Christian Ckr. Not I, said Christian, I nave heard 
 holds him back. ,..■,•■, n r n i 
 
 of this place before now; and how many 
 
 have there been slain ; and besides that, treasure is a snare 
 to those that seek it; for it hinderoth them in their pilgrim- 
 age. Then Christian called to Demas, saying. Is not the 
 place dangerous? Hath it not hindered many in their pil- 
 grimage? (Hos. xiv. S.) 
 
 Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are care- 
 less, (but withal, he blushed as he spake. ) 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a 
 step, but stiU keep on our way. 
 
 Hope. I wiU warrant you, when By-euds comes up, if he 
 hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see. 
 
 Chr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that 
 way, and a hundred to one but he dies there. 
 
 Demas. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you not 
 come over and see? 
 
 Chr. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas,
 
 ITHE pilgrim's progress. 107 
 
 thou art an enemy to the riglit ways of tlae Lord of this way, 
 and hast been already condemned for thine christian roimaetli 
 o-SAoi tiirning aside, by one of his Majesty's upDemas. 
 
 judges, (2 Tim. iv. 10;) and why seekest thou to bring us 
 into the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, 
 our Lord the King wUl certainly hear thereof, and wiU there 
 put us to shame, where we wotdd stand with boldness before 
 him. 
 
 Demas cried again, that he also was one of their fraternity ; 
 and that if they woiild tarry a little, he also himself would 
 walk with them. 
 
 Clir. Then said Christian, What is thy name? Ts it not 
 the same by the which I have called thee ? 
 
 Demas. Yes, my name is Demas ; I am the son of Abra- 
 ham. 
 
 Ghr. I know you ; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and 
 Judas your father ; and you have trod in their steps, (2 Kings 
 V. 20; Matt. xxvi. 14, 15, xxvii. 1-5.) It is but a devilish 
 prank that thou usest ; thy father was hanged for a traitor, 
 and thou deservest no better reward. Assiu-e thyself, that 
 when we come to the King, we will do him word of this thy 
 behavioiir. Thus they went their way. 
 
 By this time By-ends and his companions were come 
 again within sight, and they, at the first Ey-emls goes over 
 beck, went over to Demas. Now, whether *° Demas. 
 they fell into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or 
 whether they went down to dig, or whether they were 
 smothered in the bottom by the damps that commonly arise, 
 of these things I am not certain ; but this I observ^ed, that 
 they never were seen again in the way. Then sang Chris- 
 tian — 
 
 " By-ends and silver Demas both agi'ce ; 
 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,
 
 108 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 hard by the highway side, at the sight of which they 
 They see a strange "^vere both concerned, because of the 
 monument. strangeness of the form thereof; for it 
 seemed to them as if it had been a woman transformed 
 into the shape of a pillar; here therefore they stood looking, 
 and looking upon it, but could not for a time teU what 
 they should make thereof. At last Hopeful espied written 
 above the head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand ; but 
 he being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) 
 to see if he coidd pick out the meaning ; so he came, and 
 after a little laying of letters together, he found the same to 
 be this, "Remember Lot's wife." So he read it to his 
 fellow ; after which they both concluded that that was the 
 pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned, for her look- 
 ing back with a covetous heart, when she was going from 
 Sodom for safety, (Gen. xix. 26.) Which sudden and amaz- 
 ing sight gave them occasion of this discom-se. 
 
 Chr. Ah, my brother ! this is a seasonable sight ; it came 
 opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave 113 
 to come over to view the Hill Lucre ; and had we gone over, 
 as he desired us, and as thou wast inclining to do, my 
 brother, we had, for aught I know, been made ourselvea 
 like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after 
 to behold. 
 
 Hope. I am soiTy 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. Tliis woman escaped one judgment, for 
 8he 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 slie may be to us both caution and 
 example ; caution, that we should shun her sin; or a sign of
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 109 
 
 wliat judgment will overtake such as sliall not be prevented 
 by this caution ; so Korah, Datlian, and Abiram, with the 
 two hundred and fifty men that perished in their sin, did 
 also become a sign or example to others to beware, (Num. 
 xxvi. 9, 10.) But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, 
 how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder 
 to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking 
 behind her after, (for we read not that she stepped one foot 
 out of the way,) was tm-ned 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 caimot 
 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 piu'ses 
 under the gallows. It is said of the men of Sodom, that 
 they were sinners exceedingly, because they were sinners 
 before the Lord, that is, in his eyesight, and notwithstand- 
 ing the kindnesses that he had shewed them, (Gen. xiii. 
 13;) for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of 
 Eden heretofore, (Gen. xiii. 10.) This, therefore, provoked 
 him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as 
 the fire of the Lord out of heaven could make it. And it is 
 most rationally to be concluded, that such, even such as 
 these are, that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that, too, in 
 despite of such examples that are set continually before 
 them, to caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of 
 severest judgments. 
 
 Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; but what a 
 mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made 
 myself this example ! This ministereth occasion to us to 
 thank God, to fear before him, and always to remember 
 Lot's wife. 
 
 I saw, then, that they went on their way to a pleasant 
 river ; which David the king called ' ' the A lirer. 
 
 river of God," but John, "the river of the water of life,"
 
 110 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PEOGRESS. 
 
 (Ps. Ixv. 9 ; Rev. xxii. ; Ezek. xlvii.) Now their way 
 lay just upon tlie bank of tlie river; here, therefore, 
 Christian and his companion walked Avith great delight j 
 they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleas- 
 ant, and enlivening to their weary spirits : besides, on the 
 banks of this river, on either side, were green trees, that 
 
 , ^, . bore all manner of fruit ; and the leaves of 
 Trees by the river. 
 
 The fruit aud leaves the trees were good for medicine ; with the 
 fruit of these trees they were also much de- 
 lighted ; and the leaves they eat to prevent surfeits, and 
 other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood 
 by travels. On either side of the river was also a meadow, 
 
 ciu'iously beautified with lilies, and it was 
 A meaaow m •' 
 
 viiich they lie down green all the year long. In this meadov/ 
 they lay down, and slept ; for here they 
 might lie down safely. When they awoke, they gathered 
 again of the fruit of the trees, and drank again of the water 
 of the river, and then lay down again to sleep, (Ps. xxiii. 
 2 ; Isa. xiv. 30.) Thus they did several days and nights. 
 Then they sang — 
 
 '' Behold ye how those crystal streams do glide. 
 To comfort pilgrims by the highway side ; 
 The meadows green, beside their fragrant smell, 
 Yield dainties for them : and he that can tell 
 What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do jrield, 
 Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field." 
 
 So when they were disiiosed to go on, (for they were not, 
 as yet, at their journey's end,) they ate and drank, and 
 dej)arted. 
 
 Now, I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed 
 far, but the river and the way for a time parted ; at which 
 they were not a little sorry ; yet they durst not go out of 
 the way. Now the way from the river was rough, and 
 their feet tender, by reason of their travels ; "so the souls 
 of the pilgrims were much discouraged because of the 
 way," (Num. xxi. 4.) Wherefore, still as they went on, 
 they -wished for better way. Now, a little before them.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. Ill 
 
 there was on the left hand of the road a meado^7, aud a stiici 
 
 to go over into it; and that meadow is 
 
 „ , _ ,1 T,^ 1 rrM • n ^n • By-path Meadow. 
 
 called By-path Meadow. Ihen said Chris- 
 tian to his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our Vv'ay- 
 
 side, let us so over into it. Then he went 
 
 ' ° Ouo temptali'in 
 
 to the stile to see, and behold, a path lay does make way for 
 
 . - another, 
 
 along by the way, on the other side of the 
 
 fence. It is according to my wish, said Christian. Here is 
 
 the easiest going ; come, good Hopefid, and let us go over. 
 
 Hope. But how if this path should lead us out of the 
 way? 
 
 Chr. That is not like, said the other. Look, doth it not 
 go along by the wayside ? So Hopeful, „^ ^, - ,. 
 
 f^ o J J ^ 1 ' strong Chnsti.-vr.s 
 
 being persuaded by his fellow, went after may lead weak om s 
 V 4.1, +1 WT, +1 out of the way. 
 
 him over the stile. When they were gone 
 
 over, and were got into the path, they found it very easy for 
 their feet ; and withal, they, looking before them, espied a 
 man walking as they did, (and his name was Vain-confi- 
 dence ;) so they called after him, and asked „ , . ., . 
 
 " •' See what it is too 
 
 him whither that way led. He said. To suddenly to fall in 
 
 the Celestial Gate. Look, said Christian, 
 did not I tell you so ? By this you may see we are right. 
 So they followed, and he went before them. But, behold, 
 the night came on, and it. grew very dark ; so that they that 
 were behind lost the sight of him that wont before. 
 
 He, therefore, that went before, (Vain-confidence by 
 name,) not seeing the way before him, feU a pit to catch tho 
 into a deep pit, (Tsa. ix. 16,) which was on vain-glorious in. 
 purpose there made, by the Prince of those grounds, to catch 
 vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his 
 fall. 
 
 Now Christian and his feUow heard him fall. So they 
 called to know the matter, but there was none to answer, 
 
 only they heard a groaning. Then said .„ 
 
 J -^ o a Reasoning be- 
 
 Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was tween Christian 
 
 his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had 
 
 led him out of the way; and now it began to rain, and
 
 112 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 thimder, and lighten in a very dreadful manner ; and the 
 ■water rose amain. 
 
 Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh that I had 
 kept on my way ! 
 
 Chr. Who could have thought that this path shoidd have 
 led us out of the way? 
 
 Hope. I was afraid on it at the very first, and therefore 
 gave you that gentle caiition. I would have spoken jolainer, 
 but that you are older than I.' 
 
 Chr. Good brother, be not ofifended; I am sorry I have 
 brought thee out of the way, and that I christian's lepent- 
 have put thee into such imminent danger ; h^s'^'brother'ouf of 
 pray, my brother, forgive me ; I did not do ^^^ ""^^• 
 it of an evil intent. 
 
 Hope. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee ; and 
 believe, too, that this shall be for our good. 
 
 Chr. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother ; but 
 we must not stand thus : let us try to go back again. 
 
 Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. 
 
 Chr. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be 
 any danger, I may be first therein, because by my means we 
 are both gone out of the way. 
 
 Hope. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first ; for your 
 mind being troubled may lead you out of the way again. 
 Then, for their encouragement, they heard the voice of one 
 saying, * ' Set thine heart toward the highway, even the way 
 which thou wentest ; turn again," (Jer. xxxi. 21.) But by 
 this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which 
 the way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought 
 that it is easier going out of the way, when we are in, than 
 going in when we are out.) Yet they ad- They are in danger 
 ventured to go back, but it was so dark, of drowning as tiiey 
 
 . , , . , . so back. 
 and the flood was so high, that m their 
 
 going back they had like to have been drowned nine or ten 
 times. 
 
 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again 
 to the stile that night. Wherefore, at last, lighting under a
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 113 
 
 little shelter, they sat down there lantil the day-break ; hut, 
 beuag weary, they fell asleep. Now there They sleep in the 
 was, not far from the place where they lay, ^^^^^ ^'^ ^'-''"'^ 
 a castle called Doubting Castle, the owner 
 whereof was Giant Despair ; and it was in his grounds they 
 now were sleeping : wherefore he, getting up in the morning 
 early, and walking up and down in his fields, He finds them in 
 caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his r\es\^hem to^Doubt" 
 grounds. Then, with a grim and surly voice, ^' ^'^^"^• 
 he bid them awake ; and asked them whence they were, and 
 wliat they did in his grounds. They told him they were pd- 
 gi-ims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the 
 Giant, You have this night trespassed on me, by trampling 
 in, and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go 
 along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was 
 stronger than they. They also had but little to say, for they 
 knew themselves in a fault. The Giant, therefore, drove 
 them before hun, and put them into his The grievoasness 
 castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and ^g^JJ^''''^ imprisou- 
 stinking to the spirits of these two men, 
 (Ps. Ixxxviii. 18.) Here, then, they lay from Wednesday 
 morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or 
 drop of drmk, or light, or any to ask how they did ; they 
 were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from friends 
 and acquaintance. Now in this place Christian had double 
 sorrow, because it was through his unadvised coimsel that 
 they were brought into this distress. 
 
 The pilgiims now, to gratify the flesh. 
 Will seek its ease ; but oh! how they afresh 
 Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into ! 
 Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo. 
 
 Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffi- 
 dence. So when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what 
 he had done ; to wit, that he had taken a couple of pri- 
 soners and cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on 
 his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to do 
 fm-ther to them. So she asked him what they were, whence 
 
 H
 
 114 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS, 
 
 they came, and wliitlier tliey were bound; and he told her. 
 
 Then she counselled him that when he arose in the morning 
 
 he should beat them without any mercy. So, when he arose, 
 
 ho getteth him a grievous crab-tree ciidgel, and goes down 
 
 into the dungeon to them, and there fii'st falls to rating of 
 
 them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a 
 
 „ „, , word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, 
 Oil Thursday, . -^ 
 
 Giant Despair beats and beats them fearfully, m. such sort, 
 that they were not able to help themselves, 
 or to turn them upon +lip floor. This done, he withdi-aws 
 and leaves them, there to r<>pdole their misery, and to moiu-n 
 under their distress. So all tJhat day they spent the time in 
 nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, 
 she, talking with her husband about them fui-ther, and under- 
 standing they were yet alive, did advise him to coimsel them 
 to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he 
 goes to them in a surly manner as before, and perceiving 
 them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given 
 them the day before, he told them, that since they were 
 never like to come out of that iilace, their only way would 
 On Friday, Gian. l>e forthwith to make an end of themselves, 
 &io kiiTthe^- either with knife, halter, or poison, for why, 
 selves. gaid he, should you choose life, seeing it is 
 
 attended with so much bitterness ? But they desired him to 
 let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and, 
 nishing to them, had doiibtless made an end of them him- 
 
 Tlic Giant some- ^^^> ^^^* *^^* ^® ^^^ "^*° °^e of his fits, (for 
 times has fits. jjg sometimes, in sunshiny weather, fell into 
 fits,) and lost fo^" a time the iise of his hand; wherefore he 
 withdrew, and left them as before, to consider what to do. 
 Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether 
 it was best to take his coimsel or no ; and thus they began 
 to discourse : — 
 
 Clir. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life 
 that we now live is miserable. For my part 
 I know not whether is best, to live thus, or 
 to die out of hand. "My soul chooseth strangling rather 
 
 Christian cruBued.
 
 
 Christian and Hopeful walking upon the banks of the river — 
 Page 114.
 
 THE pilgrim's tROGEESS. 115 
 
 tliim life," aud tlie grave is more easy for me than tliis clivu- 
 geoii, (Job vii. 15.) Shall we fee ruled by the Giant? 
 
 Hope. Indeed, our present condition is dreadful, and death 
 Hopeful comforts woidd be far more welcome to me than thus 
 ^™- for ever to abide; but yet, let us consider, 
 
 the Lord of the coimtry to which we are going hath said, 
 Thou shalt do no murder: no, not to another man's person; 
 much more, then, are we forbidden to take his counsel to 
 kni ourselves. Besides, he that kills another, can but com- 
 mit murder upon his body; but for one to kiU himself is to 
 kill body and soul at once. And, moreover, my brother, 
 thou talkest of ease in the grave ; but hast thou forgotten 
 the hell, whither for certain the murderers go? For "no 
 murderer hath eternal life," &c. And let us consider, again, 
 that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, 
 so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as well 
 as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, 
 but that God that made the world may cause that Giant 
 Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may 
 forget to lock us in? or that he may, in a short time, have 
 another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs? 
 aud if ever that should come to pass agaiu, for my part, I 
 am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my 
 utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did 
 not try to do it before; but, however, my brother, let us be 
 patient, and endure awhile. The time may come that may 
 give us a happy release ; but let us not be our own mur- 
 derers. With these words. Hopeful at present did moderate 
 the mind of his brother ; so they continued together (in the 
 dark) that day, in their sad and dolefid condition. 
 
 Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into the 
 dungeon again, to see if his pi-isoners had taken his coimsel ; 
 but when he came there he found them alive ; and truly, ali\-c 
 was aU; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by 
 reason of the woimds they received when he beat them, they 
 could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alis-e ; 
 at which he fell into a grievous rage and told them tliat,
 
 116 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 s(!eing tliey had disoLeyed his couusel, it should be worse 
 with them than if they had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian 
 
 fell into a swoon ; but, coming a little to himself again, they 
 
 Christian still renewed their discourse about the Giant's 
 
 dejected. counsel; and whether yet they had best to 
 
 take it or no. Now Christian again seemed to be for doing 
 
 it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth : — 
 
 Hope. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how 
 Hopeful comforts valiant thou hast been heretofore ? Apol- 
 llig'f on'i°-thiugTlo lyon could not crush thee, nor could all that 
 remembrance. ^i^q^ ^]^^^^ j^ear, or see, or feel, in the Valley 
 
 of the Shadow of Death, "What hardship, terror, and amaze- 
 ment hast thou ali'eady gone through ! And art thou now 
 nothing but fear I Thou seest that I am in the dungeon 
 with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art ; also, 
 this Giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also 
 cut off the bread and water from my mouth ; and with thee 
 I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little more 
 patience ; remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity 
 Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain, nor cage, nor yet 
 of bloody death. Wherefore let \is (at least to avoid the 
 shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up 
 with patience as well as we can. 
 
 Xow, night being come again, and the Giant and his ■wife 
 being in bed, she asked him concerning the prisoners, and if 
 they had taken his counsel. To which he replied, They are 
 stiu'dy rogues, they choose rather to beai* all hardship, than 
 to make away themselves. Then said she. Take them into 
 the castle-yard to-morrow, and shew them the bones and 
 skulls of those that thou hast already despatched, and make 
 them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also will tear 
 them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. 
 
 So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them 
 again, and takes them into the castle-yard, and shews them, 
 as his wife had bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims 
 as you are, once, and they trespassed in my grounds, as you
 
 THE pilgrim's PEOGKESS. 117 
 
 have done ; and wlien I tliouglit fit, I tore them in pieces, 
 
 and so, within ten days, I wiU do you. ^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 Go. cet vou down to your den a^ain; and Giant threatened 
 
 ' ° •' 1 Ti 1 1 • 1 t'l''^'' shortly he 
 
 with that he beat them all the way thither, would pull them in 
 
 They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in p'®*^^- 
 
 a lamentable case, as before. Now, when night was come, 
 
 and when ]\Ii-s Diffidence and her husband, the Giant, were 
 
 got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their 
 
 prisoners ; and withal the old Giant wondered, that he could 
 
 neither by his blows nor his coimsel bring them to an end. 
 
 And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they 
 
 live in hope that some wiU come to relieve them, or that they 
 
 have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope 
 
 to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear ? said the Giant ; I 
 
 will, therefore, search them in the morning. 
 
 Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, 
 and continued in prayer till almost break of day. 
 
 Now, a little before it was day, good Chi-istiau, as one half 
 amazed, brake out in this iiassiouate speech : What a fool, 
 quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking ^ ^^^ .^ ^j^^._._ 
 duncfeon, when I may as well walk at tian's bosom, called 
 
 " . n 1 Promise, opens any 
 
 liberty ! I have a key in my bosom, called lock in Doubtiuo' 
 
 Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open 
 
 any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hojieful, that is 
 
 good news, good brother ; pluck it out of thy bosom, and try. 
 
 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to 
 
 try at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the key) 
 
 gave back, and the door flew o^jen with ease, and Chiistian and 
 
 Hopefid both came out. Then he went to the outward door 
 
 that leads into the castle-yard, and, with his key, opened that 
 
 door also. After, he went to the ii-on gate, for that must be 
 
 opened too; but that lock went damnable hard, yet the key 
 
 did open it. Then tiiey thrust open the gate to make their 
 
 escape with speed, but that gate, as it opened, made such a 
 
 creaking, that it waked Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to 
 
 pursue his prisoners, felt his luubs to fail, for his fits took 
 
 him again, so that he could by j\o means go after them.
 
 .118 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and so 
 
 were safe, because they were out of his jui'isdiction. 
 
 Now, when they were gone over the stUe, they began to 
 
 contrive with themselves what they shoidd do at that stUe, 
 
 to prevent those that should come after, from faUrng into 
 
 the hands of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect 
 
 , , there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side 
 A pillar erected ■■• ' ° . ., . 
 
 by Christian and liis thereof this sentence — "Over this stile 13 
 
 the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept 
 
 by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial 
 
 Country, and seeks to destroy his holy pilgrims." Many, 
 
 therefore, that followed after, read what was written, and 
 
 escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follow : — 
 
 " Out of the way we went, and then we found 
 What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground ; 
 And let them that come after have a cai-e, 
 Lest heedlessness make them, as we, to f iro. 
 Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are, 
 Wtose castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair."' 
 
 They went then till they came to the Delectable Moim- 
 
 The Delectable tains, which mountains belong to the Lord 
 
 Mountains. Qf j^Y^r^^ jji^ of which we have spoken before ; 
 
 so they went up to the mountains, to behold the gardens 
 
 and orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where 
 
 They are refreshed ^Jso they drank and washed themselves, and 
 
 in the mountams. ^j(j freely eat of the vineyards. Now, there 
 
 were on the tops of these mountains Shepherds feeding their 
 
 flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The Pilgrims 
 
 therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves, 
 
 (as is common with weary pilgrinis, when they stand 
 
 Talk with the *o talk with any by the way,) they asked. 
 
 Shepherds. Whose Delectable Mountains are these, and 
 
 whose be the sheep that feed upon them ? 
 
 Mountains delectable they now ascend. 
 Where Shepherds be, which to them do commend 
 AUurhig things, and things that cautious are; 
 Pilgrims are steady kept by faith aud fear. 
 
 Shep. These mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are
 
 Christian and Hopeful talking with the She|iherds ou the Delectable 
 ISoauiama.—l'age lis.
 
 1
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 119 
 
 within sight of his city ; and the sheep also are his, and he 
 laid down his life for them, (John x. 11.) 
 
 Chr. Is this the way to the Celestial City? 
 
 Shep. You are just in your way. 
 
 Chr. How far is it thither? 
 
 Shep. Too far for any but those that shall get thither 
 indeed. 
 
 Chr. Is the way safe or dangerous ? 
 
 Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; "but the 
 transgressors shall fall therein," (Hos. xiv. 9.) 
 
 Chr. Is there, in this x^lace, any relief for pilgrims that are 
 weary and faint in the way? 
 
 Shep. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge 
 not to be "forgetful to entertain strangers," (Heb. xiii. 2;) 
 therefore the good of the place is before you. 
 
 I saw also in my dream, that when the Shepherds per- 
 ceived that they were wayfaring men, they also jnit questions 
 to them, to which they made answer as in other places ; as, 
 AVhence came you? and, How got you into the way? and, 
 By what means have you so persevered therein? For but 
 few of them that begin to come hither, do shew their face 
 on these mountains. But when the Shepherds heard their 
 answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly 
 upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delec- jijg shepherds wel- 
 table Mountains. '^o'^^ ''lem. 
 
 The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Kjiowledge, Expe- 
 rience, Watchful, and Sincere, took them The names of tho 
 by the hand, and had them to their tents, Shepherds. 
 and made them partake of that which was ready at present. 
 They said, moreover, We woidd that ye should stay here 
 awhile, to be acquainted with us; and yet more to solace 
 yourselves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. 
 They then told them, that they were content to stay ; so 
 they went to theii* rest that night, because it was very late. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the Shep- 
 herds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them 
 upon the moimtains; so they went forth with them, and
 
 120 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 walked awhile, having a pleasant prospect on every side. 
 
 They are shewn Tlien said the Shej)herds one to another, 
 wonders. Shall we shew these pilgrims some wonders ? 
 
 So when they had concluded to do it, they had them first to 
 The Mountain of ^^'^ top ^f a hill called Error, which was 
 Jirior. very steep on the furthest side, and Ijid 
 
 them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful 
 looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all 
 to pieces by a fall that they had from the top. Then said 
 Christian, What meaneth this? The Shepherds answei-ed, 
 Have you not lieard of them that Avere made to err, by 
 hearkening to Hymeneus and Philetus, as concerning the 
 faith of the resurrection of the body? (2 Tim. ii. 17, IS.) 
 They answered. Yes. Then said the Shei)herds, Those that 
 you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain 
 are they ; and they have continued to this day unburied, as 
 you see, for an example to others to take heed how they 
 clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink of 
 this moimtain. 
 
 Then T saw that they had them to the top of another 
 mountain, and the name of that is Caution, 
 and bid them look afar off; which, when 
 they did, they perceived, as they thought, several men walk- 
 ing up and down among the tombs that were there ; and they 
 perceived that the men Avere blind, because they stumbled 
 sometimes upon the tombs, and because they could not get 
 out from among them. Then said Christian, What means 
 this ? 
 
 The Shepherds then answered. Did you not see a little 
 below these moimtains a stile, that led into a meadow, on 
 the left hand of this way ? They answered, Yes. Then said 
 the Shepherds, From that stile there goes a path that leads 
 directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, 
 and these, pointing to them among the tombs, came once on 
 pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that same 
 stile; and becaxise the right way was rough in that place, 
 they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and there were 
 
 Mount Caution.
 
 THE pilgrim's PBOGEESS, 121 
 
 taken by Giant Despaii-, and cast into Doubting Castle; 
 
 wbere, after they bad been awbile kept in tbe dungeon, be 
 
 at last did put out tbeir eyes, and led tbem among tbose 
 
 tombs, -wbcre be bas left tbem to wander to tbis very day, 
 
 tbat tbe saying of tbe wise man migbt be fulfilled, " He tbat 
 
 wanderetb out of tbe way of understanding, sball remain in 
 
 tbe congregation of tbe dead," (Prov. xxi. 16.) Tben Cbris- 
 
 tian and Hopefid looked upon one anotber, witb tears gusbi:ig 
 
 out, but yet said notbing to tbe Sbepberds. 
 
 Tben I saw in my dream, tbat tbe Sbepberds bad tbciu to 
 
 anotber place, in a bottom, wbere was a door in tbe side of a 
 
 bill, and tbey opened tbe door, and bid tbem look in. Tliey 
 
 looked in, therefore, and saw tbat witbin it was very dark 
 
 and smoky; tbey also tbougbt tbat tbey beard tberc a 
 
 rumbling noise as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and 
 
 tbat tbey smelt tbe scent of brimstone. Tben said Cbristian, 
 
 Wbat means tbis? Tbe Sbepberds told 
 
 ,,,.., A by-way to bell, 
 tbem, Tbis is a by-way to hell, a way that 
 
 hypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, 
 
 ■with Esau; such as sell tbeir master, with Judas; such a:i 
 
 blaspheme tbe gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and 
 
 dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife. Then said 
 
 Hopefid to the Sbepberds, I perceive tbat these had on tbem, 
 
 even every one, a show of pilgrimage, as we have now; bad 
 
 they not? 
 
 Shep. Yes, and held it a long time too. 
 
 Hope. How far might tbey go on in pilgrimage in tbeir 
 day, since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast 
 away? 
 
 Shep. Some further, and some not so far, as these moim- 
 tains. 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims one to another, "We have need to 
 cry to the Strong for strengd;h. 
 
 Shep. Ay, and you will have need to use it, when you 
 have it, too. 
 
 By tbis time the Pilgrims bad a desire to go forward, and 
 the Shepherds a desire they shoidd; so they walked together
 
 133 
 
 THE PILGEIM's PEOGRESS. 
 
 The Hill Clear. 
 
 towards the end of the mountains. Then said the Shepherds 
 
 one to another, Let ns here shew to the Pilgrims the gates of 
 
 The Shepherds' per- the Celestial City, if they have skill to look 
 
 gpecbive glass. thi'ough onr perspective glass. The Pilgrims 
 
 then lovingly accepted the motion ; so they had them to the 
 
 top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave 
 
 them their glass to look. 
 
 Then they essayed to look, biit the remembrance of that 
 
 last thing that the Shepherds had shewn them, made their 
 
 The fruits o£ ser- hands shake; by means of which impedi- 
 
 Tile fear. ment, they could not look steadily through 
 
 the glass; yet they thought they saw something like the 
 
 gate, and also some of the glory of the place. Then they 
 
 went away, and sang this song — 
 
 " Thus, by the Shepherds, secrets are reveal'd, 
 Which from all other men are kept conceal' d. 
 Come to the Shepherds, then, if j-oii -would see 
 Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be." 
 
 When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds 
 gave them a note of the way. Another of them bid them 
 beware of the Flatterer. The third bid 
 them take heed that they sleep not iipou 
 the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them God- 
 speed. So I awoke from my dream. 
 
 And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two 
 Pilgrims going down the mountains along the high%vay 
 towards the city. Now, a little below these mountains, on 
 
 _, _ the left hand, lieth the Country of Conceit; 
 
 Conceit, outof which from which country there comes into the 
 way in which the Pilgrims walked, a little 
 crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a vexy brisk 
 lad, that came out of that country; and his name was 
 Ignorance. So Cliristian asked him from what parts he 
 came, and whither he was going. 
 
 A twofold caution. 
 
 Chiistian and Ig- 
 norance have some 
 talk. 
 
 Ifjnor. Sir, I was born in the country 
 that lieth off there a little on the left hand, 
 
 and I am going to the Celestial City.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 123 
 
 Chr. But how do yoii think to get in at the gate ? for you 
 may find some difl&culty there. 
 
 Ignor. As other good people do, said he. 
 
 Chr. Bat what have you to shew at that gate, that may 
 cause that the gate shoidd be opened to you ? 
 
 Ignor. I know my Lord's will, and I have been a good 
 liver; I pay every man his owoi; I pray, fast, pay tithes, 
 and give alms, and have left my coimtry The ground of ig- 
 for whither I am going. norance's hope. 
 
 Clir. But thou earnest not in at the wicket-gate that is at 
 the head of this way; thou earnest m hither through that 
 same crooked lane, and therefore, I fear, however thou 
 mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, 
 thou wUt have laid to thy charge that thou art a thief and a 
 robber, instead of getting admittance into the city. 
 
 Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know 
 you not; be content to follow the religion of youi* coimtry, 
 and I will follow the rcHgiou of mine. I He saith to every 
 hope aU will be weU. Aud as for the gate one that be is a fool, 
 that you talk of, all the world knows that that is a great way 
 off of our country. I cannot think that any man in all our 
 parts doth so much as know the way to it, nor need they 
 matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you sec, 
 a fine, pleasant green lane, that comes down from our 
 country, the next way into the way. 
 
 When Christian saw that the man was " wise in his o\\i\ 
 conceit," he said to Hopeful, whisperingly, "There is more 
 hope of a fool than of him," (Prov. xxvi. 12.) And said, 
 moreover, " When he that is a fool walketh by the ■R'ay, his 
 wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a 
 fool," (Eccles. s. 3.) What, shaU we talk further with him, 
 or out-go him at present, and so leave him jj^^ j^, ^^^.^ j^ ^^ 
 to think of what he hath heard already, and "• ^°°^- 
 
 then stop again for him afterwards, aud sec if by degrees we 
 can do any good to him ? Then said Hopeful — 
 
 " Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
 Oii%vhat is said, aud let liiii. not refuse
 
 124 
 
 THE PILGEIM 8 PROGRESS, 
 
 Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain 
 Still ignorant of what 's the chiefest gain. 
 God saith, those that no understanding have, 
 jilthough lie made thorn, them he will not save." 
 
 Hope. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say 
 all to him at once ; let ns pass him by, if you will, and talk 
 to him anon, even as he is able to bear it. 
 
 So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now 
 when they had passed him a little way, they entered into a 
 very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils 
 had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying of 
 him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill, 
 (Matt. xii. 45; Prov. v. 22.) Now good Christian began to 
 tremble, and so did Hopeful, his companion; yet as the 
 devils led away the man, Christian looked to see if he knew 
 Tlie destruction of •'^™ > ^^^ ^® thought it might be one Turn- 
 one Turn-away, ^way, that dwelt in the town of Apostasy. 
 But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his 
 head like a thief that is found. But bemg once past, Hopcfid 
 looked after him, and espied on his back a paper with this 
 inscription, ' ' Wanton professor and damnable apostate. " 
 Then said Christian to his fellow. Now I call to remem- 
 Christian teiieth brancc, that which was told me of a thing 
 Btory°™f '^LUtle^ that happened to a good man hereabout. 
 *'"'''^* The name of the man was Little-faith, but a 
 
 good man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere. The thing 
 was this : At the entering in at this passage, there comes 
 
 ^ , r, . down from Broadway- gate, a lane called 
 Broad-way Gate. j & > 
 
 Dead Man's Lane; so called because of the 
 ea an s ane. j^^^j-^jg^g •{jjjg.t are Commonly done there ; and 
 this Little-faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced 
 to sit down there, and slept. Now there happened, at that 
 time, to come down the lane, from Broad-way Gate, three 
 sturdy rogues, and their names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, 
 and Guilt, (three brothers,) and they espying Little-faith, 
 where he was, came gallox^ing up with speed. Now the good 
 man was just awake from his sleep, and was getting up to
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 125 
 
 go on his journey. So tliey came up all to him, and Avith 
 threatening language bid him stand. At this Little-faith 
 looked as white as a clout, and had neither power to fight 
 nor fly. Then said Faint-heart, Deliver thy kittle-faith robbea 
 
 piu'se. But he making no haste to do it, by Faint-heart, Mis- 
 •' . trust, and Guiit. 
 
 (for he was loth to lose lus money,) Mistrust 
 
 ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled 
 
 out thence a bag of silver. Then he cried ^, , , . 
 
 '^ They got away Ills 
 
 out, Thieves ! Thieves ! With that Guilt, silver, and knocked 
 
 . him down. 
 
 with a great club that was in his hand, 
 
 struck Little-faith on the head, and with that blow, felled 
 
 him flat to the ground, where he lay bleeding as one that 
 
 Avould bleed to death. All this while the thieves stood by. 
 
 Eat, at last, they hearing that some were upon the road, and 
 
 fearing lest it should be one Great-grace, that dwells in the 
 
 city of Good-confidence, they betook themselves to their 
 
 heels, and left this good man to shift for himself. Now, 
 
 after awhile. Little-faith came to himself, and getting up 
 
 made shift to scrabble on his way. This was the story. 
 
 Hope. But did they take from him aU that ever he had ? 
 
 Chr. No; the place where his jewels were they never ran- 
 sacked, so those he kept still. But, as I Littie-faith lost not 
 was told, the good man was much afflicted I'is best things. 
 for his loss, for the thieves got most of his spending-money. 
 That which they got not (as I said) were jewels, also he had 
 a little odd money left, but scarce enough to bring him to 
 his journey's end, (1 Pet. iv. 18;) nay, if I was not misin- 
 formed, he was forced to beg as he went, to ^ ., ., , .,, , , 
 ' & ' Little-faith force 1 
 
 keej) himself alive; for his jewels he might to beg to his jour- 
 iiot sell. But beg, and do what he could, 
 he went (as we say) with many a himgry belly the most part 
 of the rest of the way. 
 
 Hope. But is it not a wonder they got not fi-om him his 
 certificate, by which he was to receive his admittance at 
 the Celestial Gate ? 
 
 Chr. It is a wonder; but they got not that, though they 
 missed it not through any good cunning of his ; for he, being
 
 126 THE pilgrim's PE0GRE88, 
 
 dismayed witli tlieir coming upon liim, liad neither po'wer 
 
 He kept not liia nor skill to hide anything; so it was more 
 owncuniug.jrr'm! ^Y g^od Providence than by his endeavour, 
 ^ ^*-' that they missed of that good thing. 
 
 Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that they 
 got not his jewels from him. 
 
 Chr. It might have been great comfort to him, had he 
 used it as he should; but they that told me the story said, 
 that he made bat little use of it all the rest of the way, and 
 that because of the dismay that he had in the taking away 
 his money ; indeed, he forgot it a great part of the rest of 
 his journey; and besides, when at any time it came into his 
 mind, and he began to be comforted therewith, then would 
 fresh thoughts of his loss come again upon him, and those 
 thoughts would swallow up all, (1 Pet. i. 9.) 
 
 He is pitied by Hoj^e. Alas ! poor man. This could not 
 butii. Ij^^^ \jq ^ gi-eat grief to him. 
 
 Chr. Grief ! ay, a grief indeed. Would it not have been 
 30 to any of us, had we been used as he, to be robbed, and 
 ^rounded too, and that in a strange place, as he was? It is 
 a wonder he did not die with grief, poor heart ! I was told 
 ihat he scattered almost all the rest of the way with nothing 
 but doleful and bitter complaints; telling also to all that 
 overtook him, or that he overtook in the way as he went, 
 where he was robbed, and how ; who they were that did it, 
 and what he lost ; how he was wounded, and that he hardly 
 escaped with his life. 
 
 Iloj^e. But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put 
 him upon selling or pawning some of his jewels, that he 
 might have wherewith to relieve himself in his journey. 
 
 Chr. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell 
 
 to this very day; for what shoidd he pawn them, or to 
 
 ^, . ,. ^^ ., whom should he sell them? In all that 
 
 ChriRtiaii snubbeth 
 
 his fellow for unad- country where he was robbed, his jewels 
 
 vised speaking. •' . ■, ^ tii j. 
 
 were not accounted oi ; nor did ue want 
 that relief which coidd from thence be administered to him. 
 Besides, had his jewels been misaing at the gate of the Celes-
 
 THE pilgrim's progeess. 127 
 
 tial City, be liacl (aud that he knew well enough) been ex- 
 cluded from an inheritance there ; and that woiJd have been 
 worse to him than the appearance and villany of ten thou- 
 sand thieves. 
 
 Ho-pe. Why art thou so tart, my brother ? Esau sold his 
 birthright, and that for a mess of pottage, and that birth- 
 right was his greatest jewel; and if he, why might not 
 Little-faith do so too? (Heb. xii. 16.) 
 
 Chr. Esau did sell his bii-thright indeed, and so do many 
 
 besides, and by so doing exclude themselv^es . ,. 
 
 ^ •> o \ discourse 
 
 from the chief blessing, as also that caitiff about Esau and 
 
 ' .„ , . Little-faith. 
 
 did; but you must put a dmerence betwixt 
 Esau and Little-faith, and also betwixt their estates. Esau's 
 bu-thright 'viias typical, but Little-faith's jewels were not so; 
 Esaii's belly was his god, but Little-faith's jjg^u ^^g ^.^-^^^^ ^^ 
 belly was not so; Esau's want lay in his ins lusts. 
 
 fleshly ajipetite, Little-faith's did not so. Besides, Esau 
 coidd see no further than to the fulfilling of his lusts ; 
 "Behold I am at the point to die, (said he,) and what 
 profit shall this birthright do me?" (Gen. xxv. 32.) But 
 Little-faith, though it was his lot to have but a little faith, 
 was by his little faith kept from such extravagances, aud 
 made to see and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as 
 Esau did his birthright. You read not anyAvhere that Esau 
 had faith, no, not so much as a little ; there- jjg^u never had 
 fore no marvel if, where the flesh only bears *^'''^- 
 
 sway, (as it will in that man where no faith is to resist,) if 
 he sells his birthright, and his soul and all, and that to the 
 devil of hell ; for it is with such, as it is with the ass, who 
 in her occasions cannot be turned away, (Jer. ii. 24. ) When 
 their minds are set iipon their lusts, they will have them 
 whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of another tern- 
 per, his mind was on things di^^e ; his live- i^i^Ue-faith could 
 lihood was upon things that were spiritual, not live upou Esau's 
 and from above; therefore, to what end 
 should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels (had there 
 been any that would have bought them) to fill his mind with
 
 128 
 
 THE PILGRIJi's PROGRESS. 
 
 empty tilings ? Will a man give a penny to fill liia belly witli 
 
 , Lay? or can vou persuade tlie tnrtle-dove to 
 A comparison be- , •' ^ j. 
 
 tweeii the turtle- Hve upon carrion like tlie crow? Tlioucrli 
 
 tluve and the crow. ».,, • ,, 
 
 laitnless ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn, or 
 
 mortgage, or sell wliat they have, and themselves outright 
 
 to boot ; yet they that have faith, saving faith, though but a 
 
 little of it, cannot do so. Here, therefore, my brother, is 
 
 thy mistake. 
 
 Hope. I acknowledge it ; but yet your severe reflection 
 had almost made me angry. 
 
 Clii: Why, I did but compare thee to some of the bu-ds 
 that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in un- 
 trodden paths, with the shell iipon their heads ; but pass by 
 that, and consider the matter under debate, and all shall be 
 well betwixt thee and me. 
 
 Hope. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am persuaded 
 in my heart, are but a company of cowards; would they 
 have rivn else, think you, as they did, at the noise of one 
 that was coming on the road ? Why did 
 not Little-faith pluck up a gi-eater heart? 
 He might, methinlcs, have stood one brush with them, and 
 have yielded when there had been no remedy. 
 
 Chr. That they are cowards, many have said, but few 
 
 have found it so in the time of trial. As 
 No great heart for 
 
 Goii, where there is for a creat heart, Little-faith had none ; 
 
 IjutUttle faith. ^ . ' ' 
 
 and I perceive by thee, my brother, hadst 
 
 thon been the man concerned, thou art but for a brush, and 
 We have more then to yield. And, verily, since this is 
 tha.?°4hru Tu toe tlie height of thy stomach, now they are at 
 conflict. a_ distance from us, should they appear to 
 
 thee as they did to him, they might put thee to second 
 thoughts. 
 
 But, consider again, they are but journeymen thieves, they 
 serve imder the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, 
 will come in to their aid himself, and his voice is as the roar- 
 ing of a lion, (Ps. vii. 2 ; 1 Pet. v. 8.) I myself have been 
 engaged as this Little -faith was, and I foimd it a terrible 
 
 Hopeful swajgers.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 129 
 
 thing. These three villains set upon me, and I begin- 
 ning, like a Christian, to resist, they gave christian tells his 
 
 but a call, and in came their master. I would, o"'n eipenenc* iu 
 
 this case, 
 as the saying is, have given my life for a 
 
 penny ; but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with 
 
 armour of proof. Ay, and yet, thougb I was so harnessed, I 
 
 found it hard work to quit myself like a man. No man can 
 
 tell what in that combat attends us, but he that hath been 
 
 ia the battle himself. 
 
 Hope. Well, but they ran, you sec, when they did but 
 suppose that one Great-grace was in the way. 
 
 CJir. True, they have often fled, both they and their 
 master, wh.en Great-grace hath bf.t aj)peared ; and no mar- 
 vel; for he ia the King's Champion. But, The King's Cham- 
 I trow, you will put some difference betwixt p'°"" 
 
 Little-faith and the King's Champion. All the King's sub- 
 jects are not his champions, nor can they, when tried, do 
 sucb feats of war as lie. Is it meet to think that a little 
 child sbould handle Goliah as David did? or tbat there 
 should be the strength of sji ox in a wren? Some are 
 eti'ong, some are weak ; some have great faith, eome have 
 Kttle. This man was one of the weak, and therefore he 
 went to the wall. 
 
 Hope. I woidd it had been Great-grace for their sakes. 
 
 CJir. If it had been, he might have had his hands full; 
 for I must tell you, that though Great-grace is excellent good 
 at his weapons, and has, and can, so long as he keeps them 
 at sword's point, do well enough with them ; yet, if they get 
 within him, even Faint-heart, Mistrust, or the other, it shall 
 go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man 
 is down, you know, what can he do ? 
 
 Whoso looks well upon Great-grace's face, shall see those 
 scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of 
 what I say. Yea, once I heard that he should say, (and that 
 when he was in the combat,) "We despaired even of life." 
 How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David 
 groan, mourn, and roar ! Yea, Heman, and Hezekiah, too,
 
 130 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 
 
 tliougli champions in their day, were forced to bestir them, 
 when by these assaulted ; and yet, notwithstanding, they had 
 theu- coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time, 
 would go try what he coidd do ; but though some do say 
 of him that he is the prince of the apostles, they 
 handled him so, that they made him at last afraid of a 
 sorry girl. 
 
 Besides, their king is at theu- whistle. He is never out of 
 hearing; and if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if 
 possible, comes in to help them ; and of him it is said, ' ' The 
 Leviathan's sturdi- sword of him that layeth at him cannot 
 ness. hold the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon : 
 
 lie esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The 
 arrow cannot make him flee ; sling stones are turned with 
 him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble : he laughcth 
 at the shaking of a spear," {Job xli. 26-29.) What can a 
 man do in this case ? It is true, if a man could, at every 
 turn, have Job's horse, and had skill and courage to ride 
 liim, he might do notable things; "for his neck is clothed 
 
 „ ^ with thimder, he wiU not be afraid of the 
 
 The excellent 
 
 mettle that is in grasshopj^er ; the glory of his nostrils is 
 terrible : he paweth in the vaUey, and re- 
 joiceth in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men. 
 He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth he 
 back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the 
 glittering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground 
 Avith fierceness and rage, neither believeth he that it is the 
 sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, 
 ha ! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the 
 captains, and the shouting," (Job xxxix. 19-25.) 
 
 But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire 
 to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if vre could do better, 
 when we hear of others that they have been foiled, nor be 
 tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood ; for such com- 
 monly come by the worst when tried. Witness Peter, of 
 whom I made mention before. He would swagger, ay, he 
 would ; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say. do
 
 THE PILOEIM*S PROGRESS. 131 
 
 better, aud stand more for his Master than all men ; but who 
 BO foiled, and run down by these villains, as he ? 
 
 When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on 
 the King's highway, two things become us to do : 1. To go 
 out hai'nessed and to be sure to take a shield -w^ith us ; for 
 it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at 
 Leviathan could not make him yield : for, indeed, if that be 
 wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had skil". 
 hath said, ' ' Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith 
 ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked," 
 (Eph. vi. 16.) 
 
 2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy, 
 yea, that he will go with us himself. This it is goorUo have 
 made David rejoice when in the Valley of a convoy, 
 the Shadow of Death ; and Moses was rather for dying where 
 he stood, than to go one step without his God, (Exod. xxxiii. 
 15.) my brother, if he will but go along with us, what 
 need we be afraid of ten thousands that shall set themselves 
 against us? (Ps. iii. 5-8, xxvii. 1-3.) But, ^^^t^out him, 
 the proud helpers "fall under the slain," (Isa. x. 4.) 
 
 J, for my part, have been in the fray before now; and 
 though, through the goodness of him that is best, I am, as 
 you see, alive; yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Glad 
 ehaU I be, if I meet v\uth no more such brunts ; though I fear 
 we are not got beyond aU danger. However, since the lion 
 and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will 
 also deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. Then 
 sang Christian — 
 
 '• Poor Little-faith ! Hast lieen among the thieves ? 
 Wast robb'd ? Remember tliis, whoso believes, 
 And gets more faith, shall then a victor be 
 Over ten thousand, else scarce over three." 
 
 So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then 
 till they came at a place where they saw a way put itself 
 into their way, and seemed withal to lie as 
 straight as the way which they should go : ' ' ■" 
 
 and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both
 
 132 
 
 THE pilgrim's PKOGRESS. 
 
 seemed straight before them ; therefore, here they stood still 
 
 to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, 
 
 The Flatterer finds l^ehold a man, black of flesh, but covered 
 
 them. with a very light robe, came to them, and 
 
 asked them why they stood there. They answered they 
 
 were going to the Celestial City, but knew not which of 
 
 these ways to take. Follow me, said the man, it is thither 
 
 Christian and his t^^t I am going. So they followed him in 
 
 fellow deluded, ^j^g ^.j^y i]^^^^ ^^^^ ^ow came into the road, 
 
 which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the city 
 that they desired to go to, that, in little time, their faces 
 were turned away from it ; yet they followed him. But by 
 and by, before they were aware, he led them both within the 
 They are taken in compass of a net, in which they were both 
 a net. g^ entangled, that they knew not what to 
 
 do ; and with that the white robe fell off the black man's 
 back. Then they saw where they were. Wherefore, there they 
 lay crying some time, for they could not get themselves out. 
 
 CJir. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see my- 
 
 They bewail their self in error. Did not the Shepherds bid us 
 
 condition. beware of the flatterers ? As is the saying 
 
 of the wise man, so we have found it this day, "A man that 
 
 flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet," (Prov. 
 
 xxix. 5.) 
 
 Hope. They also gave us a note of directions about the 
 
 way, for our more siu'e finding thereof ; but therein we have 
 
 also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the 
 
 paths of the destroyer. Here David was wiser than we ; for, 
 
 saith he, "Concerning the works of men, by the word of 
 
 thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer, " 
 
 (Ps. xvii. 4.) Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the 
 
 „, . . ^ net. At last they espied a Shining One 
 A Shining One *' -^ J^ 
 
 comes to them, with coming towards them with a whip of small 
 a whip in his hand. . . , . , . „^, , , 
 
 cord m his hand. vV hen he was come to 
 
 the place where they were, he asked them whence they 
 
 came, and what they did there. They told him that they 
 
 were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their
 
 THE PILGPaM'S PROGRESS. 133 
 
 way by a black man, clothed, in wMte, wlio bid us, said they, 
 follow him, for he was going thither too. Then said he witll 
 the whip, It is Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath trans- 
 formed himself into an angel of light, (Prov. xxix. 5 ; Dan. 
 xi. 32; 2 Cor. xi. 13, 14.) So he rent the net, and let the 
 men out. Then said he to them, FoUow me, that I may set 
 you in your way again. So he led them back to the way 
 which they had left to follow the Flatterer. Then he asked 
 them, saying. Where did you lie the last night ? They said, 
 
 With the .Shepherds, upon the Delectable _, 
 
 ■■■ ' '- Tliey are exani- 
 
 Mountains. He asked them then, if they ined, and convicted 
 , - , . ,, r,, , 1 , . ,. of forgettulness. 
 
 had not of those Shepherds a note of durec- 
 
 tion for the way. They answered. Yes. But did you, said 
 he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and read your note ? 
 They answered, No. He asked them, Why? They said, 
 they forgot. He asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did not 
 bid them beware of the Flatterer. They Deceivers fine 
 answered. Yes, but we did not imagine, said spoken, 
 
 they, that this fine-spoken man had been he, (Rom. xvi. 18.) 
 Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie 
 down; which, when they did, he chastised Theyare wWpt, and 
 them sore, to teach them the good way sent on their way. 
 wherein they shoidd walk, (Deut. xxv. 2;) and as he 
 chastised them he said, ' ' As many as I love, I rebuke and 
 chasten; be zealous, therefore, and repent," (Rev. iii. 19; 
 2 Chron. vi. 26, 27.) This done, he bid them go on their 
 way, and take good heed to the other directions of the 
 Shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and 
 went softly along the right way, singing — 
 
 " Come hither, you that walk along the way; 
 See liow the pilgrims fare that go astray 1 
 They catched are in an entangling net, 
 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget: 
 'Tis true they rescued were, but yet you see, 
 They 're scourged, to boot. Let this your caution be." 
 
 Now, after a while, they perceived, afar ofF, one coming 
 Boftly and alone, all along the highway to meet them. Then
 
 1 34 THE pilgmm's peogeess. 
 
 said Cliristian to his fellow, Yonder is a man witli his back 
 towards Zion, and lie is coming to meet us, 
 
 Hope. I see him ; let ns take heed to ourselves now, lest 
 
 The Atheist meets ^® should prove a flatterer also. So he drew 
 
 them. nearer and nearer, and at last came up unto 
 
 them. His name Avas Atheist, and he asked them whither 
 
 they were going. 
 
 Chr. We are going to Mount Zion. 
 He laughs at Then Atheist fell into a very great 
 
 them. laughter. 
 
 Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter? 
 Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to 
 take upon you so tedious a journey, and you are like to have 
 nothing but your travel for your pains. 
 
 They reason to- ^'^^* Why, man, do you think we shall 
 gether. jjq^. j^g received? 
 
 A ihe'ist. Keceived ! There is no such place as you dream 
 of in all this world. 
 
 Chr. But there is in the world to come. 
 
 Atheist. When I was at home in mine own country, I 
 heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to 
 see, and have been seeking this city this twenty years ; but 
 find no more of it than I did the first day I set out, (Jer. xxii. 
 ]2; Eccles. x. 15.) 
 
 Chr. We have both heard and believe that there is such a 
 place to be found. 
 
 Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not 
 
 come thus far to seek ; but finding none, (and yet I should, 
 
 had there been such a place to be found, for I have gone to 
 
 , . , , , seek it further than you,) I am goincr back 
 The Atheist takes . . J " o a 
 
 up his content In this again, and will seek to refresh myself with 
 
 the things that 1 then cast away, for hopes 
 
 of that which, I now see, is not. 
 
 Christian proveth C*/t}\ Then Said Christian to Hopeful his 
 
 his brother. fgUow, Is it true which this man hath said? 
 
 Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers; remember 
 
 Avhat it hath cost us once already for om* hearkening to
 
 THE PILGRIM S PEOGRESS 
 
 135 
 
 answer. 
 
 A remembraiica 
 of former chastise- 
 ments is a help a- 
 gainst present temp- 
 tations. 
 
 8uch kind of fellows. Wliat ! no moiuit Zion ? Did wo 
 not see, from tlie Delectable Mountains, Hopeful's gracious 
 the gate of the city? Also, are we not 
 now to walk by faith ? Let us go on, said 
 Hopeful, lest the man with the whip over- 
 take us again, (2 Cor. v. 7-) 
 
 You should have taught me that lesson, which I will 
 round you in the ears withal : ' ' Cease, my son, to hear the 
 instruction that causeth to err from the words of know- 
 ledge," (Prov. xix. 27.) 1 say, my brother, cease to hear 
 him, and let us "believe to the saving of the soul," (Heb. 
 X. 39.) 
 
 Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to thee for 
 that I doubted of the truth of our beUef myself, but to 
 prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit ^ f^^jj. ^f ^^^ honest 
 of the honesty of thy heart. As for this ^^^'■*- 
 
 man, I know that he is blinded by the god of this world. 
 Let thee and T go on, knowing that we have behef of the 
 truth, "and no lie is of the truth," (1 John ii. 21.) 
 
 Hope. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So 
 they turned away from the man ; and he, laughing at them, 
 went his way. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came 
 
 into a certain country, whose air naturally .„, 
 
 •' •' They are coma 
 
 tended to make one drowsy, if he came a to the Enchanted 
 
 stranger into it. And here Hopeful began 
 to be very dull and heavy of sleep ; wherefore he said unto 
 Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy that I can 
 scarcely hold up mine eyes; let us lie down Hopeful begins to 
 here and take one nap. betirowsy. 
 
 Chr. By no means, said the other; lest sleeping, we never 
 awake more. 
 
 Hope. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet 
 to the labom-ing man ; we may be refreshed if we take a nap. 
 
 Chr. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid 
 us beware of the Enchanted Ground ? He meant by that, 
 that we ahoiild beware of sleeping; "Therefore let us 
 
 Christian keeps 
 him awake.
 
 136 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 He ia thankful. 
 
 not sleep, as do others, but let us watcli and be sober," 
 (1 Thess. V. 6.) 
 Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault ; and had I been 
 here alone, I had by sleeping run the danger 
 of death. I see it is true that the wise man 
 saith, "Two are better than one." Hitherto hath thy com- 
 pany been my mercy, and thoii shalt have a good rewai'd for 
 thy labour, (Eccles. iv. 9.) 
 
 ^ . , Chr. Now then, said Christian, to prevent 
 
 To prevent clrow- ' •■• 
 
 BiueaiL they faU to drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good 
 good discourse. * ° 
 
 discourse. 
 
 Hope. With all my heart, said the other. 
 
 „ , ,. Clii: Where shall we begin? 
 
 Good discourse ° 
 
 prevents drowsi- Hope. Where God began with us. But 
 ness. -^ , . .- " 
 
 do you begin, it you please. 
 
 Chr. I will sing you first this song : — 
 
 "When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, 
 And heai" how these two pilgrims talk together : 
 The dreamers Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise, 
 
 Kote. Thus to keep ope their drowsy shimb'ring eyes. 
 
 Saints' fellowship, if it be managed well. 
 Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell." 
 
 Chr. Then Christian began and said, I will ask you a 
 
 „, ^ . , ,, question. How came you f o think at first 
 They hegm at the ^ "' 
 
 beginning of their of SO doing as you do now ? 
 
 conversion. rr -n v, t x ^ i. 
 
 nope. Do you mean, now came I at first 
 to look after the good of my soul? 
 Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. 
 
 Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those 
 things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which 
 I believe now, woiUd have, had I continued in them, still 
 drowned me in perdition and destruction. 
 Chr. What things are they? 
 
 Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also 
 
 I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, swearing. 
 
 Hopeful's life lying? uncleanness, Sabbath -breaking, and 
 
 before conversion. ^-^^^ ^^^^ ^i^^>^ tended to destroy the souL 
 
 But J. found at last, by hearing and considering of things
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 137 
 
 tliat are diviue, wliich indeed I heard of you, aa also of 
 beloved Faitliful, tliat was put to death for his faith and 
 good living in Vanity Fair, that ' ' the end of these things 
 is death," (Kom. vi. 21-23.) And that for these things' sake 
 "Cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience," 
 (Eph. V. 6.) 
 
 Chr. And did you presently fail imder the power of this 
 conviction? 
 
 Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of 
 sin, nor the damnation that follows upon „ „ ■, ,. ^ ^ 
 
 ' •■■ Hopeful at first 
 
 the commission of it ; but endeavoured, simtshiseyesagainst 
 
 „ ' 1,1 the light. 
 
 when my mmd at first began to be shaken 
 
 with the Word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof. 
 
 Chr, But what was the cause of yoiu- carrying of it thus 
 to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you? 
 
 Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was 
 the work of God upon me. I never thought Reasons of his re- 
 that, by awakenings for sin, God at fii-st sisting of the hght. 
 begins the conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very 
 sweet to niy flesh, and I was loth to leave it. 3. I could 
 not tell hffw to part with mine old companions, their pre- 
 sence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours 
 in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome 
 and such heart -affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no 
 not so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart. 
 
 Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your 
 trouble. 
 
 Hope. Yes, verily, but it woidd 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, K I did but meet a good man in the streets ; or, 
 
 2. If I have heard any read in the Bible; „„ . , , , 
 
 *' ' \Vlien he had lost 
 
 0; , his sense of sin, what 
 
 .-,,j. . i 1T11 -1. 1 brought this agaiu. 
 
 o. it mine head did begm to acue ; or, 
 
 4. If I were told that some of my neighbours were sick; or,
 
 138 
 
 THE PILGEIM's PEOOEESS. 
 
 5. If I lieard tlie bell toll for some that were dead ; or, 
 
 6. If I tlioiiglit of dying myself ; or, 
 
 7. If I lieard that sudden death happened to others ; 
 
 8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must 
 qixickly come to judgment, 
 
 Chr. And conld you at any time, with ease, get off the 
 guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon yon ? 
 
 Hope. No, not I, for then they got faster hold of my con- 
 science ; and then, if I did bnt think of going back to sin, 
 (though my mind was turned against it, ) it would be double 
 torment to me. 
 
 Chr, And how did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. I thought I must endeavom* to mend my life ; fur 
 
 ■rm 1 n ^^^^i thought I, I am sitre to be damned. 
 
 VVlien he could ° 
 
 no louger siiake ofj Clir. And did you endeavour to mend? 
 
 Iii3 guilt by sinful 
 
 courses, theu ho eu- Hope. Yes; and ned from not only my 
 deavours to menil. . -l j • o i . -i •. . , 
 
 sms, but smtul comi^any too ; and betook 
 
 me to religious duties, as prayer, reading, wee^jing for sin, 
 speaking truth to my neighbours, &c. These things did I, 
 v.'ith many others, too much here to relate. 
 Clir. And did you think yourself well then ? 
 Hope. Yes, for a while ; but at the last, my trouble came 
 Then he thought tumbling upon me again, and that over the 
 himself T^ ell. ^^^^ ^f ^^ ^^ reformations. 
 
 Chr. How came that about, since you v.'ere now reformed ? 
 Hope. There Avere several things brought it upon me. 
 Reformation at especially such sayings as these: "All our 
 
 last could not help, righteousnesses are as filthy rags, " (Tsa. 
 and why. ° j a ^ \ 
 
 Ixiv. G.) "By the works of the law shall 
 
 no flesh be justified," (Gal. ii. 16.) "When ye shall have 
 done all those things, say. We are unprofitable," (Luke xvii. 
 10 ;) with many more such like. From whence I began to 
 rcsbsor, M'ith myself thus: If all my righteousnesses are filthy 
 rags> if, by the deeds of the law, no man can be justified ; 
 and if, when we have done all, we are yet unj^rofitable, 
 then it is but a folly to think of heaven by the law. I fur- 
 ther thoiight thus : If a man runs a hundred pounds into the
 
 THE PILGEIBl's PROGRESS. 139 
 
 shopkeeper's debt, aud after that shall pay for all that he 
 shall fetch; yet, if this old debt stands still in the book 
 uncrossed, for that the shopkeeper may sue His being a debtor 
 him, and cast him into prison till he shall by tho la-w troubb.a 
 pay the debt. 
 
 Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself? 
 
 Hope. Why, I thought thus with myself : 1 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 stUl, under all my present amendments, But how shall 
 I be freed from that damnation that I have brought myself 
 in danger of, by my former transgressions ? 
 
 Chr. A very good application : but, pray, go on. 
 
 Hope. Another thing that hath troiibled me, even since 
 
 my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into the 
 
 beat of what I do now, I still see sin, new ^.^ ^^^^.^^^^ ,^^,^ 
 
 sin, mixing itself with the best of that I tbings in im best 
 ' ° ,.1 11 duties troubled hnn. 
 
 do ; so that now I am forced to conclude, 
 
 that notmthstanding my former fond conceits of myself and 
 
 duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty to send me 
 
 to hell, though my former life had been faultless. 
 
 Clir. And what did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. Do ! I could not tell what to do, waiW. I brake my 
 mind to Faithful, for he and I were well ^^^.^ ^^^^^^ ^^.^ 
 acquainted. And he told me, that unless break his mind to 
 
 ••• I'Viitliful, wlio tuld 
 
 I could obtain the righteousness oi a maa him the way to ba 
 
 that never had sinned, neither mine own, 
 
 nor all the righteousness of the world could save me. 
 
 Chr. And did you think he spake true ? 
 
 Hope. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied 
 with mine own amendment, I had called him fool for his 
 pains ; but now, since I see mine own infirmity, and the sin 
 that cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced to 
 be of his opinion. 
 
 Chr. But did you think, when at fii'st 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 ?
 
 140 iHE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Hope. I must confess tlie words at first sounded strangely, 
 At wh.ich he started ^'^^ after a little more talk and company 
 at present. ^^.^^i^ -^^^^ j j^^^ f ^j conviction about it. 
 
 Chr. And did you ask liim what man this was, and how 
 you must be justified by him ? 
 
 Hope. Yes, and ie told me it was the Lord Jesus, that 
 
 dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, 
 
 said he, you must be justified by him, even by trusting to 
 
 what he hath done by himseK, in the days of his flesh, and 
 
 sufi'ered when he did hang on the tree. I asked him further, 
 
 , ,. , how that man's riaihteousness covdd be of 
 
 A more jiarticiUar » 
 
 discovery of the way that efficacy to justify another before God. 
 to be saved. . -, ■, ",,1 
 
 And he told me he was the mighty God, 
 
 and did what he did, and died the death also, not for him- 
 self, but for me ; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of 
 them, should be imjmted, if I believed on him, (Heb. x. ; 
 Horn. iv. ; Col. i. ; 1 Pet. i.) 
 
 Clir. And what did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. I made my objections against my believing, for 
 
 He doubts of ac- ^^^^^ I thought he was not willing to save 
 ceptalioii. jj,g 
 
 Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? 
 
 Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then T said it was 
 presumption ; but he said, No, for I was invited to come, 
 (j\Iatt. xi. 28.) Then he gave me a book of Jesus, his i&dit- 
 
 Iie is better iu- i"S"' *" encourage me the more freely to 
 straicted. come; and he said, concerning that book, 
 
 that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven 
 and earth, (Matt. xxiv. 35.) Then I asked him, what I 
 must do when I came ; and he told me, I must entreat upon 
 my knees, with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal 
 him to me, (Ps. xcv. 6 ; Dan. vi. 10 ; Jer. xxix. 12, 13.) 
 Then I asked him fui-ther, how I must make my supplica- 
 tion to him. And he said, Go, and thou shalt find him 
 upcn a mercy-seat, where he sits all the year long, to give 
 pardon and foi-giveness to them that come. I told him that 
 I knew not what to say when T came. And he bid me say
 
 THE PILGPvIMS PEOGEESS. 141 
 
 fco tHis effect : God be merciful to me a sinner, and make 
 
 me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; . 
 
 . , . . , 1 1 i He IS Did to pray, 
 
 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 
 v^illing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am, (and 
 1 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, (Exod. xxv. 22 ; Lev. xvi. 2 ; 
 Num. vii. 89 ; Heb. iv. 16.) 
 
 Chr. And did you do as you were bidden ? 
 
 Hope. Yes ; over, and over, and over. „ 
 
 Chr. And did the Father reveal his Son 
 to you ? 
 
 Hope. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, 
 nor fifth ; no, nor at the sixth time neither. 
 
 Chr. What did you do then? 
 
 Hope. What ! why, I could not tell what to do. 
 
 Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? 
 
 Hope. Yes; an hundred times twice He thought to leave 
 told. off praying. 
 
 Chr. And what was the reason you did not ? 
 
 Hope. I believed that that was true which had been told 
 
 me, to wit, that without the righteousness tt , x ,. 
 ' ' ° He durst not 
 
 of this Christ, all the world could not save leave off praying, 
 
 and why. 
 me ; and therefore, thought I with myself, 
 
 if I leave off I die, and I can but die at the throne of grace. 
 
 And withal, this came into my mind, "Though it tarry, 
 
 wait for it; becaxise it will surely come, it will not tarry," 
 
 (Hab. ii. 3. ) Sol continued praying until the Father shewed 
 
 me his Son. 
 
 Chr. And how was he revealed unto you ? 
 
 Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with 
 the eyes of my understanding, (Eph. i. 18, 19;) and thus it 
 waa : One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any
 
 14:2 THE pilgrim's progkess. 
 
 one time in my life, and this sadness was tbrougli a fresh sight 
 Christ is revealed to 0^ t^e greatness and vileness of my sins. 
 
 him, aud how. ^^^ ^^ j ^3,3 then looking for nothing but 
 hell, and the everlasting damnation of my soul, suddenly, as 
 I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus Christ look down from 
 heaven upon me, and saying, "Believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and thou shalt be saved," (Acts xvi. 31.) 
 
 But I replied. Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. 
 And he answered, " My grace is sufficient for thee," (2 Cor. 
 xii. 0.) 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; aud that he 
 that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after 
 salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Clirist, (John vi. 
 35.) Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked fur- 
 ther, 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 wiU in no wise 
 cast out," (John vi, 37.) Then I said. But how. Lord, must 
 I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my faith 
 may be placed aright upon thee? Then he said, "Christ 
 Jesus came into the world to save sinners," (1 Tim. i. 15.) 
 *' He is the end of the law for righteousness to everj"- one 
 that believeth," (Rom. x. 4.) "He died for our sins, and 
 rose again for our justification," (Rom. iv. 25.) "He loved 
 us, and washed us from oiir sins in his own blood," (Rev. i. 
 5.) "He is mediator betwixt God and us," (1 Tim. ii. 5.) 
 "He ever liveth to make intercession for us," (Heb. vii. 25.) 
 From all which I gathered, that T 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 iii 
 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 fiUl of tears, 
 and mine affections running over with love to the name, 
 people, and ways of Jesus Christ.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 143 
 
 Chr. Tliis was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed; 
 but teU me particularly what effect this had uj)on your sjiirit. 
 
 Hope, It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding 
 aU the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. 
 It made me see that God the Father, though he be just, 
 can justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly 
 ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded 
 me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; for there never 
 came thought into my heart before now, that shewed 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 spUl it all for 
 the sake of the Lord Jesus. 
 
 I saw then in my di-eam that Hopeful looked back and 
 saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming aftei-. 
 Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder yoimgster loitereth 
 behind. 
 
 Chr. Ay, ay, I see him ; he careth not for our company. 
 
 Hope. But I trow it would not have hui-t him, had he kept 
 pace with us hitherto. 
 
 Chr. That is true ; but I warrant you, he thinketh other- 
 wise. 
 
 Hope. That, I think, he doth ; but, however, let us tarry 
 
 for him. So they did. 
 
 •^ Young Ignorance 
 
 Then Christian said to him. Come away, comes up agaiu; 
 
 man, why do you stay so behind ? 
 
 Iijnor. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a 
 great deal than in company, unless I like it the better. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful, (but softly,) Did I not tell 
 you he cared not for our company ? But, however, said he, 
 come up, and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. 
 Then directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how 
 do you? How stands it between God and your soul now? 
 
 Ignor. I hope well; for I am always ignorance's hope, 
 full of good motions, that come into my andthegroumicfit. 
 mind, to comfort me as I walk, (Prov. xxviii. 26.)
 
 144 
 
 THE PILGRIM 8 PEOGRESa 
 
 Chr. What good motions ? pray, tell us. 
 
 Ignor. Wliy, I think of God and heaven. 
 
 Chr. So do the devils and damned souls. 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them and desire them. 
 
 Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. ' ' The 
 soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing," (Prov. xiiL) 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them. 
 
 Chr. That I doubt ; for leaving all is a hard matter : yea, 
 a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by 
 what, art thou persiiaded that thou hast left all for God and 
 heaven ? 
 
 Ignor. My heart tells me so. 
 
 Chr. The wise man says, " He that trusts his own heart 
 is a fool," (Prov. xxviii. 26.) 
 
 Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good 
 one. 
 
 Chr. But how dost thou prove that ? 
 
 Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven. 
 
 Chr, That may be through its deceitfulness ; for a man's 
 heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing 
 for which he yet has no ground to hope. 
 
 Ignor, But my heart and life agree together, and therefore 
 my hope is well grounded. 
 
 Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together ? 
 
 Ignor. My heart tells me so. 
 
 Chr. Ask my fellow if I be a thief ! Thy heart tells thee 
 so 1 Except the Word of God beareth witness in this matter, 
 other testimony is of no value. 
 
 Ignor. But is it not a good heart that hath good thoughts? 
 and is not that a good life that is according to God's com- 
 mandments ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, 
 and that is a good life that is according to God's command- 
 ments; but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and another 
 thing only to think so. 
 
 Ignor. Praj'-, what count you good thoughts, and a life 
 according to God's commandments ?
 
 THE pilgrim's puogress. 145 
 
 CJir. There are good thouglits of divers kinds ; some re- 
 specting ourselves, some God. some Christ, and some other 
 things. 
 
 Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves ? 
 Chr. Such as agree with the Word of God. -w^hat are gootl 
 Ignor. When do oui- thoughts of ourselves thoughts, 
 
 agree with the Word of God ? 
 
 Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon ourselves 
 which the Word passes. To explain myseM — ^the Word of 
 God saith of persons in a natural condition, "There is none 
 righteous, there is none that doeth good," (Rom. iii.) It 
 saith also, that "every imagination of the heart of man is 
 only evil, and that continually," (Gen. vi. 5.) And again, 
 "The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth," 
 (Rom. viii. 21.) Now then, when we think thus of oiirselves, 
 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 con- 
 cerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on. As the Word 
 oasseth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment 
 apon our ways ; and when OUK thoughts of our hearts and 
 ways agree with the judgment which the Word giveth of 
 both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto. 
 Ignor. Make out your meaning. 
 
 Chr. Why, the Word of God saith that man's ways are 
 crooked ways; not good, but perverse, (Ps. cxxv. 5; Prov. 
 ii. 15.) It saith they are naturally out of the good way, 
 that they have not known it, (Rom. iii.) Now, when a man 
 thus thinketh of his ways; I say, when he doth sensibly, 
 and with heart-humiliation, thus think, then hath he good 
 thoughts of liis own ways, because his thoughts now agree 
 ■with the judgment of the AVord of God. 
 
 Ignor. What are good thoughts concerning God? 
 Chr. Even as I have said concerning ourselves; when our 
 thoughts of God do agree with what the Word saith of him ; 
 and that is, when we think of his being and attributes as the
 
 146 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Word liath taught, of which I cannot now discourse at large ; 
 but to speak of him \nt\i reference to us : Then we have 
 right thoughts of God, when we think that he knows us 
 better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us when 
 and where we can see none in ourselves ; when we think he 
 knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all it-3 
 depths, is always oj^en imto 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. 
 
 Jgnor. Do you think that I am such a fool as to think God 
 can see no further than I ? or, that I would come to God in 
 the best of my performances ? 
 
 Chr. Why, how dost thoii think in this matter? 
 
 Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ 
 for justification. 
 
 Chr. How ! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou 
 seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither seest thy original 
 nor actual infirmities ; but hast such an opinion of thyself, 
 and of what thou dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that 
 did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to 
 justify thee before God. How, then, dost thou say, I believe 
 in Christ? 
 
 Ignor. I believe well enough for all that. 
 
 Clir. How dost thou believe ? 
 
 Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners ; and that 1 
 
 The faith of Igno- shall be justified before God from the cvirse, 
 ranee. through his gracious acceptance of my obe- 
 
 dience to his law. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are 
 religious, acceptable to his Father, by virtue of his merits ; 
 and so shall I be justified. 
 
 Clir. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith. 
 
 1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is 
 nowhere described in the Word. 
 
 2. Thou believest with a false faith; because it taketh 
 jnstification from the personal righteousness of Christ, and 
 applies it to thy own.
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 147 
 
 3. This faitli maketli not Christ a justifier of thy person, 
 but of thy actions ; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, 
 which is false. 
 
 4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even siicli as will leave 
 thee under wrath, in the day of God Almiglity ; for true 
 justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its condition by 
 the law, upon flying for refuge unto Christ's righteousness, 
 which righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which 
 he maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted with 
 God; but his personal obedience to the law, in doing aud 
 suifering for us what that required at our hands ; this right- 
 eousness, I say, true faith accepteth ; under the skirt of 
 which, the soid being shrouded, and by it presented as 
 spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquit from con- 
 demnation. 
 
 Ignor. What! would you have us trust to what Christ, in 
 his own person, has done without us? This conceit would 
 loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list ; 
 for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by 
 Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we believe it? 
 
 Chr. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art 
 thou; even this thy answer demonstrateth what I say. 
 Ignorant thou art of what ju.stifying righteousness is, and aa 
 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 Chi'ist, to 
 love his name, his word, ways, and people, and not as thou 
 ignor antly imagine st. 
 
 Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from 
 heaven. 
 
 Ignor. What ! you are a man for revelations I I believe 
 that what both you, and all the rest of you, ignoranco jangles 
 say about that matter, is but the fruit of "^'"^ "^^'m- 
 distracted brains, 
 
 Hope. Why, man ! Clirist is so hid in God from the natural 
 apprehensions of the flesh, that he caimot by any man be
 
 148 
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 savingly known, unless God the Father repeals him to 
 them. 
 
 Ignor. That is your faith, but not mine ; yet mine, T 
 He speaks re- ^^^^^^ "-^t, is as good as yours, though I 
 
 proachfuiiy of what have not in my head so many whimsies 
 he kuows not. ■' •' 
 
 as you. 
 
 Chr. Give me leave to put in a word. You ought not so 
 slightly to speak of this matter ; for this I will boldly affirm, 
 even as my good companion hath done, that no man can 
 know Jesus Christ but by the revelation of the Father, 
 (Matt. xi. 27 ;) yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth 
 hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought by the 
 exceeding greatness of his naighty power ; the working of 
 which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant 
 of, (1 Cor. xii. 3; Eph. i. 18, 19.) Be awakened, then, see 
 thine own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus ; and by 
 his righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, for he 
 himself is God, thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. 
 
 Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keejj pace with you. 
 Do you go on before; I must stay awhile 
 behind. 
 
 Then they said : — 
 
 " Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be, 
 To slight good counsel, ten times given thee? 
 And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know, 
 Ere long, the evil of thy doing so. 
 Remember, man, in time, stoop, do not fear ; 
 Good counsel taken well, saves : therefore hear: 
 But if thou yot shalt slight it, thou wUt be 
 The loser, (Ignorance,) I'll warrant thee." 
 
 Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow : — 
 
 Clir. Well, come, my good Hopefid, I perceive that thou 
 and I must walk by om-selves 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 I there are abundance in our to'WTi ia his con* 
 
 The talk broke up.
 
 THE pilgrim's PEOGRESS. 119 
 
 dition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that of pil- 
 grims 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 shoiild see," &c. But now we are by our- 
 selves, what do you think of such men? Have they at no 
 time, think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fears 
 that their state is dangerous? 
 
 Hope. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you 
 are the elder man. 
 
 Ckr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may ; but 
 they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such con- 
 victions tend to their good ; and therefore they do desperately 
 seek to stifle them, and presumjotuously continue to flatter 
 themselves in the way of their own hearts. 
 
 Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much to 
 men's good, and to make them right, at The good use of 
 their beginning to go on pUgrimage. ^^'"^^^ 
 
 Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right ; for so says 
 the Word, "Tlie fear of the Lord is the beginning of wis- 
 dom," (Prov. i. 7, ix. 10; Ps. cxi. 10; Job xxviii. 28.) 
 
 Hope. How will you describe right fear ? 
 
 Chr. True or right fear is discovered by Rigbtfear. 
 three things : — 
 
 1. By its rise ; it is caused by saving convictions for sin. 
 
 2. It driveth the soid to lay fast hold of Christ for sal- 
 vation. 
 
 3. It begetteth and continiieth in the soul a great rever- 
 ence of God, his Word, and ways, keeping it tender, and 
 making it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand or 
 to the left, to anything that may dishonour God, break 
 its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak 
 reproachfully. 
 
 Hope. Well said ; I believe you have said the tnith. Are 
 we now almost got past the Enchanted Groimd ? 
 Clir. Why, art thou weary of this discourse ? 
 Hove. No, verily, but that I woidd know where we are.
 
 150 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 In particular. 
 
 Chr. We have not now above two miles fui'ther to go 
 thereon. But let us return to our matter. Now the igno- 
 v/iiy ignorant per- rant know not that such convictions as tend 
 troM.'"^^ '°""'" to P^t tliem in fear are for their good, and 
 In general. therefore they seek to stifle them. 
 Hope. How do they seek to stifle them ? 
 Chr. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the 
 devil, (though indeed they are wrought of 
 God ;) and, thinking so, they resist them as 
 things that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also 
 think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, 
 when, alas for them, poor men that they are, they have none 
 at all ! and therefore they harden their hearts against them. 
 3. They presume they ought not to fear ; and therefore, in 
 despite of them, wax presumptuously confident. 4. They 
 see that those fears tend to take away from them their piti- 
 ful old self -holiness, and therefore they resist them with all 
 their might. 
 
 Hope. I know something of this myself; foi', before I 
 knew myself, it was so with me. 
 
 Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbour 
 Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable ques- 
 tion. 
 
 Hope. With all my heart, but you shall still begin. 
 
 Chr. Well then, did you not know, about ten years ago, 
 
 Talk about one one Temporary in your parts, who was a 
 
 Temporary. forward man in religion then ? 
 
 Hope. Know him ! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a town 
 
 about two miles oS of Honesty, and ho 
 
 dwelt next door to one Turnback. 
 
 Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with him. 
 
 Well, that man was much awakened once; I believe that 
 
 Ho was towardly *h*^^ ^^ ^^^ some sight of his sins, and of 
 
 once. ^]je wages that were due thereto. 
 
 Hope. T am of your mind, for, my house not being above 
 three miles from him, he would ofttimcs come to me, and 
 tiiat with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was 
 
 Where he dwelt.
 
 THE pilgrim's PKOGRESS. 161 
 
 not altogether witliout hope of him ; but one may see, it is 
 not every one that cries, Lord, Lord. 
 
 Chr. He told me once that he was resolved to go on 
 pilgrimage, as we do now; but all of a sudden he grew 
 acc[uainted with one Save -self, and then he became a 
 stranger to me. 
 
 Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a little 
 inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and 
 such others. 
 
 Chr. It may be very profitable, but do yon begin, 
 
 Hope. Well, then, there are in my judgment four reasons 
 for it : — 
 
 1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet 
 their minds are not changed ; therefore, Reasons why to- 
 when the power of guilt weareth away, warUly ones go back, 
 that which provoked them to be religious ceaseth, where- 
 fore they naturally turn to their own course again, even as 
 we see the dog that is sick of what he has eaten, so long as 
 his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all ; not that 
 he doth this of a free mind, (if we may say a dog has a 
 mind,) but because it troubleth his stomach; but now, when 
 his sickness is over, and so his stomach eased, his desire 
 being not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him about 
 and licks up all, and so it is true which is written, ' ' The 
 dog is turned to his own vomit again," (2 Peter ii. 22.) 
 Thus I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the 
 sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of 
 hell and the fears of damnation chills and cools, so their 
 desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it 
 comes to x^ass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, 
 tlieu' desires for heaven and happiness die, and they return 
 to their course again. 
 
 2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do over- 
 master them ; I speak now of the fears that they have of 
 men, for "the fear of man bringeth a snare," (Prov. xxix. 
 25.) So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven, so 
 long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet when
 
 152 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 that terror is a little over, fhey betake themselves to second 
 thoughts ; namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to ran 
 (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or, at 
 least, of bringing themselves into unavoidable and unneces- 
 sary trovibles, 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, v/hen they 
 have lost their sense of hell and wrath to come, they return 
 again to their former course. 
 
 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them. 
 They like not to see their misery before they come into it ; 
 though perhaps the sight of it fii'st, 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, Avhen 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. 
 
 Ghr. You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of 
 all is, for want of a change in their mind and will. And 
 therefore they are but like the felon than standeth before 
 the judge, he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent 
 most heartily, but the bottom of all is the fear of the 
 halter ; not that he hath any detestation of the offence, as 
 is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty, and ho 
 ■will be a thief, aud so a rogue still, whereas, if his mind was 
 changed, he wo\dd be otherwise. 
 
 Hope. Now I have shewed you the reasons of their going 
 back, do you shew me the manner thereof. 
 
 Chr. So I will willingly. 
 
 1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from 
 How the apostate ^^^ remembrance of God, death, and judg- 
 
 goesback. menttocome. 
 
 2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as clo?et 
 prayer, ciu-biug their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the 
 like.
 
 \.Aij:i,,Vi^^r 
 
 The Land of lieulah- —/*«;/« 153
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 153 
 
 3. Then tliey Bliun the company of lively and ■w^fl'm 
 Christians. 
 
 4. After that they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, 
 reading, godly conference, and the like. 
 
 5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats 
 of some of the godly ; and that devilisUy, that they may 
 have a seeming colour to throw religion (for the sake of 
 some infirmity they have espied in them) behind their backs. 
 
 6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves 
 with, carnal, loose, and wanton men. 
 
 7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in 
 secret ; and glad are they if they can. see such things in any 
 that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do 
 it through their example. 
 
 8. After this they begin to play with little sins openly. 
 
 9. And then, being hai'dened, they shew themselves as 
 they are. Thus, being launched again into the gulf of 
 misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlast- 
 ingly perish in their own deceivings. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the Pilgrims 
 were got over the Enchanted Ground, and entering into the 
 country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant, 
 the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves 
 thei-e for a season, (Isa. Ixii. 4.) Yea, here they heard con- 
 tinually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers 
 appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the 
 land, (Can. ii. 10-12.) In this country the sun shineth night 
 and day ; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death, and also out of the reach of Criant 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 inhabit- 
 ants thereof ; for in this land the Shining 
 Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of 
 heaven. In this laud also, the contract between the bride 
 and the bridegroom was renewed; yea, here, "As the bride- 
 groom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over
 
 154 THE pilgrim's pkogeess. 
 
 them," (Isa, Ixii. 5.) Here tliey had no want of com and 
 wine ; for in this pLace they met with abundance of what 
 they had sought for in all their pilgi-imagc, (Verse 8.) Here 
 they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, 
 " Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation 
 cometh ! Behold, his reward is with him!" (Verse 11,) 
 Here aU the inhabitants of the country called them, ' ' The 
 holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out," &c., 
 (Verse 12.) 
 
 Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing 
 than in parts more remote from the kingdom to which they 
 were bound ; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a 
 more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and pre- 
 cious stones, also the street thereof was paved with gold; so 
 that by reason of the natui'al glory of the city, and the reflec- 
 tion of the sunbeams upon it. Christian with desire fell sick ; 
 Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease. Where- 
 fore, here they lay by it awhile, crying out, because of their 
 pangs, "If ye find my beloved, teU him that I am sick of 
 love," (Can. v. 8.) 
 
 . But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear 
 their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet 
 nearer and 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 Kmg's, 
 and are planted here for his OAvn delight, and also for the 
 solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into tiie vine- 
 yards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties, 
 (Deut. xxiii. 24.) He also shewed them there the King's 
 walks, and the arbours where he delighted to be ; and here 
 they tarried and slejit. 
 
 Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their 
 sleep at this time than ever they did in all then- journey; and 
 being iu a muse thereabout, the gardener said even to me. 
 Wherefore musest thou at the matter? It is the nature of
 
 THE pilgrim's PROCxRESS. 155 
 
 the friiit of the grapes of these vineyards to go dosvu 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," Eev. xxi. IS) 
 was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with 
 open face behold it, but through an instrument made for 
 that purpose, (2 Cor. iii. 18.) So I saw, that as I went on, 
 there met them two men, in raiment that shone like gold ; 
 also their faces shone as the light. 
 
 These men asked the Pilgi-ims whence they came; and 
 they told them. They also asked them where they had 
 lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and 
 pleasures they had met in the way; and they told them. 
 Then said the men that met them. You have but two diffi- 
 culties more to meet with, and then you are in the city. 
 
 Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go 
 along with them; so they told them they would. But, said 
 they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my 
 dream that they went on together, until they came in sight 
 of the gate. 
 
 Now, I further saw, that betwixt them ai.il the gate was a 
 river, but there was no bridge to go over : 
 the i-iver was very deep. At the sight, 
 therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims were much stunned; 
 but the men that went with them said, You must go through, 
 or you cannot come at the gate. 
 
 The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other 
 way to the gate; to which they answered, r. n • 
 
 JL'GHtll IS DOC 
 
 Yes ; but there hath not any, save two, to welcome to nature, 
 wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to pass out of this 
 tread that path, since the foundation of ° '- ^ °s ory. 
 the wox'ld, nor shall, until the last trumpet shall sound, 
 (1 Cor, XV. 51, 52.) The Pilgrims then, especially Christian, 
 began to despond in their minds, and looked this way and 
 that, but no way could be found by them by which they 
 might escape the river. Then they asked the men if tlie
 
 1.56 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 waters were all of a deptli. They said, Noj yet they could 
 , , , ^ not help them in that case ; for, said thev. 
 
 Angels liclp us not ■■■ _ ' ' •" 
 
 comfortably through yon shall find it deeper or shallower, as yon 
 believe in the King of the place. 
 They then addressed themselves to the water; and enter- 
 ing, Christian began to sink, and crying out to his good 
 friend Hopefid he said, I sink in deej) waters ; the billows 
 go over my head, all his waves go over me ! Selah. 
 
 Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel 
 Christian's conflict ^^e bottom, and it is good. Then said 
 at the hour of death. Christian, Ah! my friend, "the sorrows of 
 death have compassed me about;" I shall not see the land 
 that flows with milk and honey; and with that a great dark- 
 }iess and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see 
 before him. Also here he in great measure lost his sonses, 
 so that he covld neither remember, nor orderly talk of any 
 of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way 
 of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still 
 tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart 
 fears that he should die in thab river, and never obtain 
 entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by 
 perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the 
 sins that he had committed, both since and before he began 
 to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was troubled 
 with apparitions of hobgoblin.? and evil spirits, for ever and 
 anon he would intimate so much by words. Hopefid, there- 
 fore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above 
 water; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and 
 then, ere awhile, he would rise up again half dead. Hopefid 
 also would endeavour to comfort him, saying. Brother, I see 
 the gate, and men standing by to receive its ; but Christian 
 would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for; you have 
 been Hopefid ever since 1 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 foi'got the text, where
 
 Thri tiau auJ Hopeful crossing the River of l)^.it.i.—I'ilr/rim'6 Pro'jrcss. pwje 156.

 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 157 
 
 it is said of tlie wicked, " Tliere are no bands in their deatli, 
 but tbeii" strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other 
 naen, neither are they i^lagued like other men," (Ps. Ixxiii. 
 4, 5.) These troubles and distresses that you go through in 
 these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you ; but 
 are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which 
 heretofore you have receis'ed of his goodness, and live upon 
 him in your distresses. 
 
 Then I saw in my di'eam, that Chiistian was as in a muse 
 a while. To whom also Hopeful added this „, . ^. , ,. 
 
 word. Be of good cheer. Jesus Christ ed from his fears iu 
 
 /~i ■ death. 
 maketh thee whole; and with that Chris- 
 tian brake out with a loud voice. Oh ! I see him again, and 
 he tells me, "When thou passest thi'ough the waters, I wUl 
 be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow 
 thee," (Isa. xliii. 2.) Then they both took coiu-age, and the 
 enemy was after that as stdl as a stone, until they were gone 
 over. Christian therefore jiresently found ground to stand 
 upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but 
 shallow. Thus they got over. Now, upon the bank of the 
 river, on the other side, they saw the two The angels do wait 
 Shhxing Jlen again, who there waited for ^Sefar"'pasle°d°'oSt 
 them; wherefore, being come out of the of this world. 
 river, they saluted them, saying, We are ministeiing spirits, 
 sent forth to minister for those that shall be heii's of salva- 
 tion. Thus they went along towards the gate. 
 
 Now, now look how the holy pilgrims ride. 
 Clouds are their Chariots, Angels are their Guide: 
 Who would not here for him all hazai-ds run. 
 That thus provides for his when this world 's done. 
 
 Now you must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill, 
 but the pUgrims went up that hiil with ease, because they 
 had these two men to lead them up by the arms ; also, they 
 had left their mortal garments behind them rpjjgy j^j^^g p^,. ^^ 
 in the river, for though they went in with niortahty. 
 them, they came out without them. Thej'-, therefore, went 
 up here with much agility and speed, tliough the foundation
 
 158 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 upon which the city was framed was higher than the clouds. 
 They therefore went up through the regions of the air, 
 sweetly talking as they went, being comforted, because they 
 safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions 
 to attend them. 
 
 The talk they had with the Shining Ones was about the 
 glory of the place ; who told them that the beauty and glory 
 of it was inexpressible. There, said they, is the ' ' Mount 
 Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of 
 angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect," (Heb. xii. 
 22-24.) You are going now, said they, to the paradise of 
 God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the 
 never-fading fruits thereof ; and when you come there, you 
 shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk 
 shall be every day with the King, even all the days of 
 eternity, (Rev. ii. 7, iii. 4, xxii. 5.) There you shall not 
 see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower 
 region upon the earth, to wit, soitow, sickness, affliction, 
 and death, "for the former things are passed away." You 
 are now going to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the 
 prophets — men that God hath taken away from the evil to 
 come, and that are now resting upon their beds, each one 
 walking in his righteousness, (Isa. Ivii. 1, 2, Ixv. 17.) The 
 men then asked. What must we do in the holy place ? To 
 whom it was answered, You must there receive the comforts 
 of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you must 
 reap what yoxi have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, 
 and tears, and sufferings for the King by the way, (Gal. vi. 
 7.) In that ijlace you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy 
 the pei-petual sight and vision of the Holy One, for ' ' there 
 you shall see him as he is," (1 John iii. 2.) There also you 
 shall serve him continually with praise, with shouting, 
 and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the world, 
 though with much difficvdty, 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
 
 THE pilgeim's peogress. 169 
 
 thither before yoxi; and there you shall with joy receive, 
 even every one that follows into the holy place after yon. 
 There also shall you be clothed with glory and majesty, and 
 put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glorj-. 
 When he shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as 
 upon the wings of the wind, you shall come with him ; and 
 when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment you shall sit 
 by him ; yea, and when he shall pass sentence upon all the 
 workers of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also 
 shall have a voice in that judgment, because they were his 
 and your enemies, (1 Thess. iv. 13-17; Jude 14; Dan. vii. 9, 
 10; 1 Cor. vi. 2, 3.) Also, when he shall again retiim to 
 the city, you shall go too, with soiind of trumpet, and be ever 
 with him. 
 
 Now while they were thiis drawing towards the gtite, 
 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 jom-ney, that they may go in and 
 look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly 
 host gave a great shout, saying, " Blessed are they which are 
 called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb," (Rev. xix. 9.) 
 There came out also at this time to meet them, several of 
 the King's trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, 
 who, with melodious noises, and loud, made even the heavens 
 to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian 
 and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes from the world ; 
 and this they did with shouting and sound of trumpet. 
 
 This done, they compassed them round on every side; 
 some went before, some behmd, 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
 
 160 
 
 TH2 pilgrim's PR0GEE8B. 
 
 as tliey walked, ever and anon tliese trumpeters, even with 
 joyful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks and 
 gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother how 
 welcome they were into their company, and with what glad- 
 ness they came to meet them ; and now were these two men, 
 as it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed 
 up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melo- 
 dious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view, and 
 they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to 
 welcome them thereto. But above all, the warm and joyful 
 thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there, with 
 such company, and that for ever and ever. Oh, by what 
 tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed ! And 
 thus they came up to the gate. 
 
 Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was 
 written over it in letters of gold, "Blessed are they that do 
 his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of 
 life, and may enter in through the gates into the city," (Rev. 
 xxii. 14.) 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men bid them 
 call at the gate ; the which, when they did, some looked from 
 above over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c., 
 to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from the City 
 of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of 
 this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each 
 man his certificate, which they had received in the begin- 
 ning; those, therefore, were carried in to the King, who, 
 when he had read them, said, Where are the men? To 
 whom it was answered. They are standing without the gate. 
 The King then commanded to open the gate, "That the 
 righteous nation," said he, "which keepeth the tmth, may 
 enter in," (Isa. xxvi. 2.) 
 
 Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at 
 the gate : and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, 
 and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There 
 was also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave 
 them to them — ^the harps to praise withal, and the crowna
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 161 
 
 in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all tho 
 bells in the city rang again for joy, and that it was said 
 unto them, "Entek ye into the joy of yotte Lord." I 
 also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud 
 voice, saying, "Blessing, and honouPv, ajstd glory, and 
 POWER, BE imTO Him that sitteth upon the throne, and 
 iTNTO the Lamb, for ever and ever," (Eev. v. 13.) 
 
 Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I 
 looked in after them, and, behold, the City shone like the 
 sun; the streets also were paved -with gold, and in them 
 walked many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in 
 their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. 
 
 There were also of them that had wings, and they an- 
 swered one another without intermission, saying, "Holy, 
 holy, holy is the Lord," (Eev. iv. 8.) And after that they 
 shut up the gates j which, when I had seen, I wished myself 
 among them. 
 
 Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned 
 my head to look back, and saw Ignorance ignorance cornea 
 come up to the river side ; but he soon got "^ '° *'^® "^®'^- 
 over, and that without half that difl&culty which the other 
 two men met with. For it happened that there was then in 
 that place, one Vain -hope, a ferryman, that vain-hope does ferry 
 with his boat helped him over; so he, as tho ^™ °''^'^'^* 
 
 other I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only 
 he came alone ; neither did any man meet him with the least 
 encouragement. When he was come up to the gate, he 
 looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to 
 knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly ad- 
 ministered to him ; but he was asked by the men that looked 
 over the top of the gate. Whence came you? and what would 
 you have ? He answered, I have eat and drank in the pre- 
 sence of the King, and he has taught in our streets. Then 
 they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and 
 shew it to the King ; so he fumbled in his bosom for one, 
 and found none. Then said they. Have you none? But 
 the man answered never a word. So they told the King,
 
 162 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS, 
 
 but he would not come down to see him, but commanded 
 the two' Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful 
 to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him 
 hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him 
 up, and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw 
 in the side of the hill, and put him in there. ' Then I saw 
 that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, 
 as well as from the City of Destruction ! So I awoke, aiul 
 behold it was a dream. 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Now, Readkr, I have told my dream to thee j 
 See if thou canst interpret it to me, 
 Or to thyself, or neighbour ; but take heed 
 Of misinterpreting ; for that, instead 
 Of doing good, wiU but thyself abuse : 
 By misinterpreting, evil ensues. 
 
 Take heed, also, that thou be not extreme, 
 In playing with the outside of my di-eam : 
 Nor let my figtire or similitude 
 Put thee into a laughter or a feud. 
 Leave this for boys and fools ; but as for thee, 
 Do thou the substance of my matter see. 
 
 Put by the curtains, look within my vail, 
 Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail, 
 There, if thoii seekest them, such things to find. 
 As will be helpfid 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 wra^jped up in ore ? — 
 None throws away the apple for the core. 
 But if thou shalt cast aU away as vain, 
 I know not but 'twill make me dream again. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST PABT. 
 
 i
 
 THE PILGKIM'S PEOGEESS 
 
 FilOM 
 
 %\h liflxl^ l0 t|at iuljitl] is la €m\t 
 
 THE SECOND PAPiT»
 
 >l!
 
 THE AUTHOR'S "WAY 
 
 OF SENDING FORTH HIS 
 
 SECOND PAET OF THE PILGEIM. 
 
 Qo now, my little book, to every place 
 Where my first Pilgrim has but shewn his face, 
 Call at their door. If any say, Who 's there ? 
 Then answer thou Chkistiana is here. 
 If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, 
 With all thy boys; and then, as thou know'st how, 
 Tell who they are, also from whence they came ; 
 Perhaps they know them by then- looks, or name. 
 But if they should not, ask them yet again 
 If formerly they did not entertain 
 One Christian, a Pilgriin ? If they say 
 They did ; and were delighted in his way : 
 Then let them know, that those related were 
 [JrH him; yea, his wife and children are. 
 
 Tell them, that they have left their house and honm 
 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 dfevils. 
 Have also overcome a many evils. 
 Yea, tell them also of the next, who have. 
 Of love to pilgrimage, been stout and brave 
 Defenders of that way, and how they stU.1 
 Hefuse this world to do their Father's wiil.
 
 IGG 
 
 THE AUTHOR S "WAY OP 
 
 Go, tell tliem also of those dainty tlimga, 
 That pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings. 
 Let them acquainted be, too, how they are 
 Beloved of their King, tinder his care : 
 AVhat goodly mansions for them he provides. 
 Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tideo, 
 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 shew wiU they of Pilgrims lovers are. 
 
 OBJECTION I. 
 
 But how, if they will not beHeve of me 
 That I am tridy thine ; 'cause some there be 
 That coimterfeit 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 ? 
 
 AXSWER. 
 
 '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 book, to make them do j 
 But yet they, by their features, do declare 
 Themselves not mine to be, whose e'er they are. 
 
 If such thou meet'st with, then thine only waj' 
 Before them all, is, to say oiit thy say, 
 In thine own native language, which no man 
 Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can. 
 If, after all, they stiU of you shall doubt, 
 Thinking that you, like gipsies, go about 
 In naughty wise, the country to defile, 
 Or that you seek good people to beguile
 
 SENDING FORTH HIS SECOND PART, 167 
 
 With things unwaxrantalile ; send for me, 
 And I -will testify you Pilgruis be. 
 Yea, I ■will testify that only you 
 My POgrims are ; and that alone will do. 
 
 OBJECTION n. 
 
 But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him. 
 Of those that wish him damned, life and limb. 
 What shall I do, when I at such a door 
 For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more ? 
 
 ANSWER . 
 
 Fright not thyself, my book, for such bugbears 
 Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. 
 My PUgrim's book has travell'd sea and land. 
 Yet coidd I never come to understand 
 That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door 
 By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. 
 
 In Fi-ance and Flanders, where men kill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is esteem'd a friend, a brother. 
 
 In HoUand too, 'tis said, as I am told, 
 My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold. 
 
 Highlanders and wild Irish can aOTee 
 My Pilgrim shoiild familiar with them be. 
 
 'Tis in New England under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving countenance. 
 As to be trrinm'd, new clothed, and deck'd with gems, 
 That it my shew its features and its limbs. 
 Yet more ; so comely doth my PUgrim walk. 
 That of him thousands daUy sing and talk. 
 
 If you draw nearer home, it will appear. 
 My Pilgrim knows no gi-ound of shame or fear ; 
 City and country will him entertain 
 AVith, Welcome, Pilgrim ; yea, they can't refrain 
 Fwm smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by. 
 Or shews his head in any company.
 
 1G8 THE author's WAY OP 
 
 Brave gallants do my Pilgrim liug and love. 
 Esteem it mucli, yea, value it above 
 Things of a greater bulk : yea, with delight, 
 Say, My lark's leg is better than a kite. 
 
 Young ladies, and young gentlewomen too, 
 Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim shew. 
 Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, 
 My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts 
 His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains. 
 As yields them profit double to their pains 
 Of reading ; yea, I think, I may be bold 
 To say, some prize him far above their gold. 
 
 The very children that do walk the street. 
 If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet, 
 Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
 He is the only stripling of the day. 
 
 They that have never seen him, yet admire 
 What they have heard of him, and much desire 
 To have his company, and hear him tell 
 Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. 
 
 Yea, some who did not love him at the first, 
 But call'd him fool and noddy, say they must, 
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend. 
 And to those whom they love they do him send. 
 
 Wherefore, my Second Part, thoii need'st not be 
 Afraid to shew thy head ; none can hurt thee. 
 That wish but well to him that went before, 
 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store 
 Of things as good, as rich, as profitable. 
 For young, for old, for stagg'ring, and for stable. 
 
 1 
 
 OBJECTIOK III. 
 
 But some there be that say. He laughs too loud j 
 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.
 
 BENDING rOETH HIS SECOND PART. 109 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 One may, I tliink, say, Botli his laughs and cries 
 May ■well be guess'd at by liia watery eyes. 
 Some things are of that nature, as to make 
 One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. 
 Wlren Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep. 
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep. 
 
 Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head. 
 That doth but shew how wisdom 's covered 
 With its own mantles, and to stir the mind 
 To a search after what it fain would fijid. 
 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 
 WUl on the fancy more itself intrude, 
 And will stick faster in the heai-t 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 pUgrims, and thy words embrace. 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal'd, 
 Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal'd ; 
 What Cheistiak left lock'd 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. 
 
 Lly Christiana, if with such thou meet. 
 By all means, in all loving- wise, them greet ;
 
 170 
 
 THE AUTHOR S WAY OF 
 
 Render tliem not reviling for revile ; 
 But if they frown, I prithee on them smiJe ; 
 Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report. 
 Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. 
 
 Some love no cheese, some love no fish, and some 
 Love not their friends, nor their own house or home ; 
 Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl. 
 More than they love a cuckoo, or an owl. 
 Leave such, my Chkistiana, to their choice, 
 And seek those who to find thee will rejoice; 
 By no means strive, but in humble-wise 
 Present thee to them ia thy Pilgrim's guise. 
 
 Go, then, my little book, and shew to aU 
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome, shall, 
 "What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest. 
 And wish what thou shalt shew them may be blest 
 To them for good, may make them choose to be 
 Pilgrims better by far than thee or me. 
 
 Go, then, I say, tell all men who thou art ; 
 Say, I am Chmstiana, and my part 
 Is now, with my foiu* 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 pUgrimage with thee ; 
 Say, Here 's my neighbour, Mercy, she is one 
 That has long time Avith me a Pilgrim gone. 
 Come, see her in her virgin face, and learn 
 'Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. 
 Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize 
 The world which is to come, in any wise. 
 When little tripping maidens follow God, 
 And leave old doting sinners to his rod ; 
 'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried, 
 Hosannah ! to whom old ones did deride. 
 
 Next, tell them of old Honest, whom you found 
 With his white hairs, treading the Pilgrim's ground. 
 Yea, tell them how plain -hearted this man was. 
 
 II
 
 SENDING FOETH HIS SECOND PART. 171 
 
 How after liis good Lord he bare Ms cross ; 
 Perhaps with some gray head this may prevail 
 With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. 
 
 Tell them also, how Master Fearing went 
 On i)ilgrimage, and how the time he spent 
 In sohtariness, with fears and cries ; 
 And how, at last, he v.'on the joyfol prize. 
 He tons a good man, thongh much down in s^jirit, 
 He is a good man, and doth life inheiit. 
 
 Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also, 
 Who, not before, but still behind would go. 
 Shew them also, how he had lilie 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 Heady- to-hait, 
 A man with crutches, but much without fault ; 
 Tell them how IMaster Feeble-mind and he 
 Did love, and in opinions miich 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, 
 Xo man could ever make him face about ; 
 And how Great-heart and he could not forbear, 
 But put down Doubting Castle, slay Despair. 
 
 Overlook not Master Despondency, 
 Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie 
 Cinder such mantles, as may make them look 
 (With some) as if their God had them forsook. 
 They softly went, but sure, and at the end 
 Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend. 
 When thou hast told the world of all these things, 
 Then turn about, my book, and touch these strings, 
 Which, if but touch'd, wUl siich music make, 
 They '11 make a cripple dance, a giant quake.
 
 172 THE author's way, etc. 
 
 Tliese riddles tliat He coucli'd witliiu thy breast, 
 Freely propound, expound; and for the rest 
 Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain 
 For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. 
 
 Now may this little loolc a blessing ba 
 To those who love tiis little hooh and me, 
 Audi may its buyer have no cause to say. 
 His money is but lost or thrown away ; 
 Yea, may this Second Pilgrim yield that frait, 
 As may with each good Pilgrim's fancy suit ; 
 And may it persuade some that go astray, 
 To t'jrii their feet and heart to the right way. 
 
 Is the hearty prayer of 
 
 The Author, 
 
 John Buntan.
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PEOGRESS: 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OP A DEEAM. 
 
 THE SECOND PAET. 
 
 Courteous Companions, 
 
 flOME time since, to tcill you my dream that I liacl 
 of Christian the Pilgrim, and of his dangerous 
 journey towards the Celestial Country, was plea- 
 sant to me, and profitable to you. I told you 
 then, also, what I saw concerning his wife and children, and 
 how unwilling they were to go with him on pilgrimage, inso- 
 much that he was forced to go on his progress without them ; 
 for he durst not run the danger of that destruction .which 
 he feared would come by staying with them in the City of 
 Destruction. Wherefore, as T then shewed you, he left them 
 and departed. 
 
 Now it hath so happened, through the multiplicity of 
 business, that I have been much hindered and kept back 
 from my wonted travels into those parts [from] whence he 
 went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to 
 make further inq^uiry after whom he left beliind, that I might 
 give you an account of them. But having had some concerns 
 that way of late, I went down again thitherward. Now, 
 having taken up my lodgings in a wood, about a mile off the 
 place, as I slept I dreamed again. 
 
 And as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentleman 
 came Tty where I lay ; and because he was to go some part
 
 174: THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 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 discourse, and our talk happened 
 to be about Christian and his travels ; for thus I began with 
 the old man : — 
 
 Sir, said T, what town is that there below, that lieth on 
 the left hand of our way? 
 
 Then said Mr Sagacity, (for that was his name,) Tt is the 
 City of Destruction, a jiopulous place, but possessed with a 
 very ill-conditioned and idle sort of people, 
 
 I thought that was that city, quoth I ; I went once myself 
 through that town, and, therefore,, know that this report you 
 give of it is true. 
 
 Sag. Too true; I wish I could speak truth in speaking 
 better of them that dwell therein. 
 
 WeU, sir, quoth I, then T perceive you to be a well-mean- 
 ing man; and so one that takes pleasiu-e to hear and tell of 
 that which is good. Pray, did you never hear what happened 
 to a man some time ago in this town, whose name was 
 Christian, that went on pilgi-image up towards the higher 
 regions ? 
 
 Sag. Hear of him? Ay, and I also heard of the moles- 
 tations, troubles, ware, cai^tivities, cries, groans, frights, and 
 fears that he met with and had in his journey; besides, I 
 must tell you, aU our country rings of him. There are but 
 
 Christians are ^^^ ^°"'''' *^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^<1 «^ 1^^°^ ^"d ^^^ 
 well spoken of wiien doings but have sought after and sot the 
 
 gone; though called ° ■■, ■ -r ?-,■■, -^ 
 
 fools while they are records 01 his pilgrimage ; yea, I think I 
 may say that his hazardous journey has got 
 a 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, 
 he is highly commended of all. For, it ia 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 anything 
 that is true, that he liveth well where he is •, for he now lives
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 175 
 
 at aud 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 ? 
 
 Sarj. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him ; some 
 say that he now walks in white, (Rev. iii. 4, vi. 11;) that 
 he has a chain of gold about his neck ; that he has a crown 
 of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head. Others say that 
 the Shining Ones, that sometimes shev/ed themselves to him 
 in his journey, are become his companions, and that he is as 
 familiar with them in the place where he is, as hei'e 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, (Zech. iii. 7;) and that he every day eateth, (Luke 
 xiv. 15,) and drinketh, and wallieth, 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 wiU know the reason, if they can give any, why 
 his neighbours set so little by him, and had him so much in 
 derision, when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim, 
 (Jude 14, 15.) For, they say, that now he is so in the 
 affections of his Prince, and that his Sovereign is so much 
 concerned with the indignities that were cast ciiristian's King 
 upon Christian, when he became a pUgrim, will take Christiau's 
 that he will look upon all as if doiie unto 
 himself ; and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had 
 to his Prince that he ventured as he did, (Luke x. 16.) 
 
 I dare say, quoth I, I am glad on it ; J. am glad for the 
 poor man's sake, for that he now has rest from his labour, 
 (Eev. xiv. 13;) and for that he now reapeth the benefit of his 
 tears with joy, (Ps. cxxvi. 5, 6;) and for that he has got 
 beyond the gunshot of his enemies, and is out of the reach 
 of them that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumour 
 of these things is noised abroad in this country ; who can teU 
 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
 
 176 THS pilgrim's PEOGKESS, 
 
 hear anything of his wife and chUdren? Poor hearts! I 
 wonder in my miud what they do. 
 
 Sag. Who ! Christiana and her sons ? They are like to do 
 . , . as well aa did Christian himself; for though 
 Christian's wife ana they all played the fool at the first, and 
 would by no means be persuaded by either 
 the tears or entreaties of Christian, yet second thoughts have 
 wrought wonderfully with them ; so they have packed up, 
 and are also gone after him. 
 
 Better and better, quoth I. But what 1 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 
 aU gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four 
 boys. And being (we are, as I perceive) going some con- 
 siderable way together, I wUl give you an aocoimt 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 entertain the hving 
 with many a heavy cogitation in the remembrance of the loss 
 of loving relations. This, therefore, of her husband did cost 
 her many a tear. But this was not all; for Christiana did 
 also begin to consider with herself, whether her unbecoming 
 
 „ , ^, . behaviour towards her husband was not one 
 
 Mark this, you 
 
 that are churls tu cause that she saw him no more ; and that 
 
 your godly relations. . ■, , ■, j i r i 
 
 in sucn sort he was taken away from her. 
 
 And upon this, came into her mind by swarms, aU her 
 
 unkind, unnatural, and ungodly carriages to her dear friend;
 
 THE PILGltlM S PEOGRRSS. 1 / / 
 
 wliich also clogged her conscience, and did load her v;iLu 
 
 guilt. She was, moreover, muclx broken with calling to 
 
 remembrance the restless groans, brinish tears, and self- 
 
 bemoanings of her husband, and how she did harden her 
 
 heart against all his entreaties, and loving persuasions, of her 
 
 and her sons, to go with him; yea, there was not anything 
 
 that Christian either said to her or did before her all the 
 
 Avhile that his burden did hang on his back, but it returned 
 
 '^pon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the caul of her 
 
 heart in sunder. Specially that bitter outcry of his, " What 
 
 shall I do to be saved?" did ring in her „.,_,, ,, 
 
 Firsfc Part, p. 14. 
 
 ears most dolefully. 
 
 Then said she to her children, Sons, we are aU undone. I 
 have sinned away your father, and he is gone; he woidd 
 have had lis with him, but I woidd not go myself, I also 
 have hindered you of life. With that the boys fell aU into 
 tears, and cried out to go after their father. Oh, said Chris- 
 tiana, that it had been but our lot to go with him, then had 
 it fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now; 
 for though I formerly foolishly imagined, concerning the 
 troubles of your father, that they proceeded of a foolish 
 fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with melan- 
 choly humours; yet now it will not out of my mind, 
 but that they sprang from another cause, to wit, for that 
 the Light of light was given him, (James i. 23-25;) by the 
 help of which, as I perceived, he has escaped the snares ci" 
 death. Then they all wept again, and cried out, "O woe 
 worth the day !" 
 
 The next night Christiana had a dream : and, behold she 
 saw as if a broad parchment was openeU christiana'a 
 before her, in which were recorded the sum ilieam. 
 
 of her ways, (Luke xviii. 13;) and the times, as she thought, 
 looked very black upon her. Then she cried out aloud in 
 her sleep, "Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner I" and the 
 little children heard her. 
 
 After this she thought she saw two very ill-f avoui-ed ones 
 standing by her bedside, and saying. What shall we do with 
 
 M
 
 178 THE P1LGEIM*S PE0GEES3. 
 
 this woman? for slie criea out for mercy waking and sleqi- 
 
 , „ . inff; if she be suffered to go on as slie be- 
 
 Mark this, thia "' ° 
 
 U the quintessence gins, we sliall lose her as we have lost her 
 
 husbancL Wherefore, we must, by one way 
 
 or other, seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall 
 
 be hereafter, else all the world cannot help it but she will 
 
 become a pilgrim. 
 
 Now she awoke in a great sweat, also a trembling was 
 upon her; biit after a while she fell to sleeping again. And 
 
 Help against cii.> 'tl^sn she thought she saw Christian her 
 couragemeut. husbaud 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 work that was under the Prince's feet, 
 saying, I heartUy thank my Lord and King, for bringing of 
 me into this place. Then shouted a company of them that 
 stood roimd about, and harped with their harps ; but no 
 man living could tell what they said, but Christian and hia 
 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 sj)ake 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 
 
 Convictions se- come? Then she blushed and trembled, also 
 tuTinls ""of S liei- teart began to wax warm with desires 
 readiiiesstopardou. ^q know whence he came, and what was big 
 errand to her. So he said unto her, My name is Secret; I 
 dwell with those that are high. It is talked of, where I 
 dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither; also, there id 
 a report, that thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly 
 done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against his 
 way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their ignorance. 
 Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to teU thee, that 
 he is a God ready to forgive, and that he taketh delight to
 
 THE PILGEIiM S PROGRESS. 179 
 
 multiply to pardon offences. lie also wotild Lave tliee know, 
 that lie inviteth tliee to come into his presence, to his table, 
 and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and 
 with the heritage of Jacob thy father. 
 
 There is Christian thy husband, (that was,) with legions 
 more, his companions, ever beholding that face that doth 
 minister life to beholders ; and they will all be ^iad when 
 they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's 
 threshold. 
 
 Christiana at this was greatly abasbed in herself, and bow- 
 ing her bead to the groiiud, this Visitor proceeded, and said, 
 Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, which I have 
 brought from thy busband's King. So she took it, and 
 opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume, 
 (Cant. i. 3;) also it was written in letters of gold. The 
 contents of the letter was, That the King would have her do 
 as did Christian her husband ; for that was the way to come 
 to his city, and to dwell in his presence with joy for evei-. 
 At tills the good woman was quite overcome ; Christiana quite 
 so she cried out to her visitor, Sir, wiU you overcome. 
 carry me and my children with you, that we also may go 
 and worship this King ? 
 
 Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before the 
 sweet. Thou must through troubles, as did purther instruction 
 he that went before thee, enter this Celestial *° Christiana. 
 City. Wherefore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy 
 husband. Go to the wicket-gate yonder, over the -plain, 
 for that stands in the head of the way np which thou must 
 go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise that thou 
 put this letter in thy bosom ; that thou read therein to thy- 
 self, and to thy children, until you have got it by rote of 
 heart, for it is one of thy songs that thou must sing while 
 thou art in this house of thy pilgrimage, (Ps. cxix. 64 j) also 
 this thou must deliver in at the further gate. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as lie 
 told me this story, did himself seem to be greatly affected 
 therewith. He, moreover, proceeded and said, So Christiana
 
 180 TEE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 called her sons together, and began thus to address herself 
 Christiana prays well ^"1*0 ^^^i^m : My sons, I have, as you may 
 for her journey. perceive, been of late under much exercise 
 in my soul, about the death of yoiu: father ; not for that I 
 doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now that he 
 IS well. I have been also much affected with the thouoihts 
 of mine own state and yours, which I verily beheve is by 
 nature miserable. My carriages, also, to your father in his 
 distress, is a great load to my conscience; for I hardened 
 both my own heart and yours agamst him, and refused to go 
 with him on pilgrimage. 
 
 The thoughts of these things would now kill me outright, 
 but that for a dream Avhich I had last night, and but for the 
 encouragement that this stranger has given me this morning. 
 Come, my children, let us pack up and begone to the gate 
 that leads to the Celestial Country, that we may see your 
 father, and be with him and his companions in peace, acci)rd- 
 ing to the laws of that land. 
 
 Then did her childi-en burs t out into tears for j oy, that th e heart 
 of their mother was so inclined. So their visitor bade them 
 farewell ; and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. 
 
 But whde they were thus aboitt to be gone, two of the 
 women, that were Christiana's neighbours, came up to her 
 house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said as be- 
 
 .„ ... , fore, If you come in God's name, come in. At 
 
 Christianas new '' 
 
 language stuns her this the women were stunned; for this kind 
 old neighbours. 
 
 of language they used not to hear, or to per- 
 ceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. Yet they came in : 
 but, behold, they found the good woman a-i)rej)aring to be 
 gone from her house. 
 
 So they began and said, Neighbour, pray what is your 
 meaning by this ? 
 
 Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose 
 
 name was Mrs Timorous, I am preparing for a journey. 
 
 (This Timorous was daughter to him that 
 
 ^rs a , p. . ^^^ Christian upon the Hdl Difficulty, and 
 
 would have had him go back for fear of the lions.)
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 181 
 
 Ti7n. For wliat journey, I pray you? 
 
 Chris, Even to go after luy good husband. And -with 
 
 that she fell a-weex)ing. 
 
 Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour; pray, for your poor 
 
 children's sakes, do not so unwomanly cast 
 
 ,» Timoro\i3 comes 
 
 away yoursell. to visit Christiana, 
 
 Chris. Nay, my children shall go with me, herueishbours?^ ° 
 not one of them is willing to stay behind. 
 
 Tim. I wonder, in my very heart, what or who has 
 brought you into this mind. 
 
 Chris. neighbour, knew you but as nnich as I do, I 
 doubt not but that you would go with me. 
 
 Tim. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got that so 
 worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth 
 thee to go, nobody knows where ? 
 
 Chris. Then Christiana replied, 1 have been sorely afflicted 
 since my husband's departure from me ; but especially since 
 he went over the river. But that which 
 troubleth me most, is my churlish carriages 
 to him when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now 
 as he was then ; nothing will serve me but going on iiilgvim- 
 age. I was a-dreaming last night that I saw him. Oh that 
 my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the 
 King of the country; he sits and eats with him at his table; 
 he has become a companion of immortals, (1 Cor. v. 1-4;) 
 and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the 
 best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me but as a dung- 
 hill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me, with 
 promise of entertainment if I shall come to him; his mes- 
 senger was here even now, and has brought me a letter which 
 invites me to come. And with that she i)lucked out her 
 letter, and read it, and said to them, What now will ye say 
 to this? 
 
 Tim. Oh, the madness that has possessed thee and thy 
 husband, to run yourselves upon such difficulties! You 
 have heard, I am sure, what yoiu* husband did meet witli, 
 even, In a manner, at the first step that he took on his
 
 182 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PEOGEESS. 
 
 way, aa our neigliLoiir Obstinate can yet testify, for he went 
 
 First Part along With him ; yea, and Pliable too, until 
 
 pp. 15-19. they, like wise men, were afraid to go any 
 
 further. We also heard, over and above, how he met with 
 
 the lions, ApoUyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other 
 
 things. ITor is the danger that he met with at Vanity Fair 
 
 The reasonings of *<> ^^e forgotten by thee; for if he, though 
 
 theflesii. g^ man, was so hard put to it, what canst 
 
 thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Consider, also, that these 
 
 f(iur 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, keeji 
 
 thou at home. 
 
 But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my neigh- 
 bour. I have now a price jDiit into my hand to get gain, and 
 I should be a fool of the greatest size, if I should have no 
 heart to strike in with the opportunity. And for that you 
 tell me of all these troubles that I am like to meet with in 
 the way, they are so far off from being to me a discourage- 
 ment, that they shew I am in the right. 
 A pertinent re- ' •' ■, r ^ ji 
 
 ply to fleshly reason- "The bitter must come befoi-e 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 gone, and not dis- 
 quiet me further. 
 
 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fellow, 
 
 Come, neighbour Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, 
 
 since she scorns our counsel and company. But Mercy was 
 
 at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neigh- 
 
 , , , hour, and that for a twofold reason. First, 
 
 T^Iercy's bowels ' ,-,i ■ • o t 
 
 yeani over Chris- her bowels yearned over Christiana, bo sue 
 said within herself, If my neighbour will 
 needs be gone, I will go a little way with her and help her. 
 Secondly, her bowels yearned over her own soul, for what 
 Christiana had said had taken some hold upon her mind. 
 Wherefore she said within herself again, I will yet have 
 more talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and hfe in
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 183 
 
 wliat slie shall say, myself Avith. my heart shall also go with 
 her. "Wherefore Mercy began thus to rejily to her neighboui' 
 Timorous. 
 
 Mercy. Neighbour, I did, indeed, come with you to sea 
 Christiana this morning; and since she is, Timorous for- 
 
 as YOU see, a-taking of her last farewell of sakes her, but Blerey 
 her country, I think to walk, this sun-shine 
 morning, a little way with her, to help her on her Avay. 
 But she told her not of the second reason, but kept that to 
 herself. 
 
 Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fooling too, 
 but take heed in time, and be wise. While we are out of 
 danger, we are out ; but when we are in, we are in. So Mrs 
 Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook her- 
 self to her journey. But when Timorous Timorous ac- 
 was got home to her house, she sends for TauL'go^lchnV 
 some of her neighbours, to wit, Mrs Bat's- tiana intends to do. 
 eyes, Mrs Inconsiderate, Mrs Light-mind, and Mrs Know- 
 nothing. So when they were come to her house, she falls 
 to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended 
 journey. And thus she began her tale. 
 
 Tim. Neighbours, having had little to do this morning, I 
 
 went to give Christiana a visit j and when I came at the door, 
 
 I knocked, as you know it is our custom. And she answered, 
 
 If you come in God's name, come in. So in I went, thinking 
 
 all was well. But when I came in, I foimd her preparing 
 
 herself to depart the town, she and also her children. So I 
 
 asked her what was her meaning by that. And she told me, 
 
 in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, 
 
 as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she had, 
 
 and how the King of the country where her husband was 
 
 had sent her an inviting letter to come thither. 
 
 Then said JIrs Know-nothing, And what ! „ _ 
 
 ° Mrs Kuow-iiothiiiff. 
 
 do you think she will go ? 
 
 mm. Ay, go she will, whatever come on't; and methinks 
 
 I know it by this j for that which was my great argument 
 
 to pcrrniade her to stay at home, (to wit, the troubles she
 
 184 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 
 
 t 
 
 Mrs Bat's eyes. 
 
 Mrs Inconsiderate, 
 
 was like to meet with in the way,) ia one great argument 
 
 with her to put her forward on lier journey. Fox she told me 
 
 in 60 many words, "The bitter goes before the sweet." Yea, 
 
 and forasmuch as it so ioth, it makes the sweet the sweeter, 
 
 Mrs Bat^s-eyes. Oh, this blind and foolish woman ! said she; 
 
 will she not take warning by her husband's 
 
 afllictions? For my part, I see, if he was 
 
 here again, he would rest him content in a whole skin, and 
 
 never run so many hazards for nothing. 
 
 Mrs Inconsiderate also replied, saying. Away with such 
 
 fantastical fools from the town! A good 
 
 riddance, for my part, I say, of her. Should 
 
 she stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who 
 
 could live quietly by her ? for she wiU either be dumpish or 
 
 unneighbourly, or tallc of such matters as no wise bodj"- can 
 
 abide j wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for her 
 
 departiire. Let her go, and let better come in her room. It 
 
 was never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt 
 
 in it. 
 
 Then Mrs LUjld-mind added as foUoweth : 
 
 • — Come, put this kind of talk away. I was 
 
 yesterday at Madame Wanton's, where we were as merry as 
 
 ■,T J, -.xr 1 the maids, For who do you think should 
 Maaame Wanton, •' 
 
 she that had like to be there, but I and Mrs Love-the-Flesh, and 
 
 have heen too liard ,, , .,, _, ^ , _. 
 
 for Faithful in time three or lour more, with Mr Lechery, Mrs 
 
 Filth, and some others. So there we had 
 music and dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the 
 pleasure. And, I daresay, my lady herself is an admirably 
 
 well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr Lechery is 
 
 as pretty a fellow. 
 
 By this time, Christiana Avas got on her way, and Mercy 
 
 went along with her. So as they went, her children being 
 
 ^. . . . , there also, Christiana bewan to discourse. 
 
 Discourse betwixt . ' . . •^ 
 
 Mercy and good And, Mercy, Said Christiana, I take this as 
 an xinexgiected favour that thou shouldst 
 set foot out of doors with me to accompany me a little 
 Sn my way. 
 
 Mrs Light-mind. 
 
 TTirst Part, p. 69.
 
 THE pilgrim's PE0GRES3. 185 
 
 Mercy. Then said young Mercy, (for she wag but yoim^-, ) 
 If I thoudit ifc wonld be to imrpose to go 
 
 IVI-Grcv inclin63 
 
 with you, I would never go near the town to go. 
 
 any more. 
 
 Chris. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot with 
 me; I weU know what wiU be the end of Christiana wouii 
 our pilgrimap-e. My husband is where he have her neighbour 
 
 •l ° ■= •' . with her. 
 
 Avould not but be for all the gold m the 
 Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be rejected though thou 
 goest but upon my invitation. The King who hath sent for 
 me aiid my children is one that dehghteth in mercy. Besides, 
 if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with 
 me as my servant ; yet we will have all things in common 
 betwixt thee and me ; only, go along with me. 
 
 Mercy. Biit how shall I be ascertained that I also shall bo 
 entertained? Had I this hope but from one mercy doubts of 
 that can tell, I would make no stick at aU, acceptance. 
 but would go, being helped by Him that can help, though 
 the way was never so tedious. 
 
 Chris. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt 
 do. Go with me to the wicket-gate, and eiiristiana aUnrcs 
 there I will further inquire for thee: and if hertothegate whicii 
 
 •"• ' 13 Christ, and l)ro- 
 
 there thou shalt not meet with encourage- miseth tiiere to in- 
 
 1 li. quire lor her. 
 
 ment, I wiU be content that thou shalt re- 
 turn to thy place. I also wiU pay thee for thy kindness which 
 thou shewest to me and my children, in thy accompanying 
 us in oiir way, as thou dost. 
 
 Mercy. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall 
 follow; and the Lord grant that my lot may 
 there fall, even as the King of Heaven shall Mercy prays, 
 have his heart xx^on me. 
 
 Christiana then was glad at her heart, not only that she 
 had a companion, but also for that she had Christiana glad of 
 prevaded with this poor maid to faU in love Mercy's company. 
 with her own salvation. So they went on together, and 
 Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, AVherefore 
 weepeth my sister so ?
 
 186 THE pilgkim's progress. 
 
 Mercy Alas ! said she, who can biit lament, that shall but 
 
 Mercy grieves for rightly consider, what a state and condition 
 
 ]iercarnaf relations. ^^^ ^^^^^ relations are in that yet remain in 
 
 onr sinful to^ia ? and that which makes my grief the more 
 heavy is, because they have no instructor, nor any to tell 
 them what is to com'e. 
 
 Chris. Bowels becometh pilgrims; and thou dost tor thy 
 friends as my good Christian did for me when he left me ; he 
 Christian's prayers mourned for that I would not heed nor 
 Hs"relatlons?'after regard him; but his Lord and oiu's did 
 lie was dead. gather up his tears, and jivit them into his 
 
 bottle ; and now both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, 
 are reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, 
 these tears of thine will not be lost ; for the truth hath said, 
 that "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy," in singing. 
 And "he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious 
 seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his 
 sheaves with him," (Ps. cxxvL 5, 6.) 
 
 Then said Mercy — 
 
 "Let the Most Blessed be my guide, 
 If 't be his blessed will ; 
 Unto his gate, into his fold. 
 Up to his holy hiU. 
 
 " Aiid let hina never suffer me 
 To swerve or turn aside 
 From his free grace, and holy ways, 
 Whate'er shall me betide. 
 "And let him gather them of mine. 
 That I have left behind ; 
 Lord, make them pray they may be thiii^ 
 With all their heart and mind." 
 
 Now my old friend proceeded and said : But when Chris- 
 tiana came up to the Sloush of Despond, 
 
 First Part, p. 10. , , , ^, , , f . -i i 
 
 she began to be at a stand; for, said she, 
 
 this is the place in which my dear husband had like to haA'e 
 
 „, . , been smothered wdth mud. She perceived. 
 
 Their own carnal . ■, r 
 
 conclusions, instead also, that notwithstandinsc the command of 
 
 cf the AVord of Life. ' i a.i • i t -1 • 
 
 the Kmg to make this place for pugnmR 
 good, yet it was rather worse tJian formerly. So I
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 187 
 
 asked if that Avas true. Yes, said tlie old gentleman, too 
 true ; for that many there be that pretend to be the King's 
 labourers, and that say they are for mending the King's 
 highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so 
 mar instead of mending. Here, Christiana, therefore, with 
 her boys, did make a stand; but, said jjercy the boldest 
 Mercy, Come, let ixs venture, only let us at tiie siough of l>e- 
 be wary. Then they looked well to the 
 steps, and made a shift to get staggeringly over. 
 
 Yet Christiana had like to have been in, and that not once 
 nor twice. Noav they had no sooner got over, biit they 
 thought they heard words that said unto them, ' ' Blessed is 
 she that believed : for there shall be a performance of those 
 things Avhich were told her from the Lord," (Lidie i. 45.) 
 
 Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Christiana, 
 Had I as good groimd to hope for a loving reception at the 
 wicket-gate as you, I think no Slough of Desi^ond would dis- 
 courage me. 
 
 Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I know 
 mine ; and, good friend, Ave shall all have enough evil before 
 we come at our joiu-ney's end. 
 
 For can it be imagined, that the people that design to 
 attain such excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied 
 that happiness as we are, biit that we shall meet with vrhat 
 fears and scares, with what troubles and afflictions they can 
 possibly assault us with, that hate tis? 
 
 And now Mr Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by 
 myself. "Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana and ISIercy, 
 and the boys, go all of them iip to the gate; to which, when 
 they were come they betook themselves to a ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ,^^ 
 short debate about how they must manaore made with cousiuei-- 
 
 , iitiou and fear, as 
 
 their calling at the gate, arid what should be well as iu faith and 
 
 said to him that did open to them. So it was 
 
 concluded, since Chi'istiana Avas the eldest, that she should 
 
 knock for entrance, and that she should 
 
 1 X T XI i. Ti J- 4.T ^ c First Part, p. 30. 
 
 speak to him that did open, for the rest, fco 
 
 Christiana began to knock ; and, as her poor husband did, she
 
 188 THE pilgrim's progkess, 
 
 knocked, aucl knocked again. Biit, instead of any that 
 
 Tiie dog, the devil, answered, tliey all tliouglit tliat tliey heard 
 
 an enemy' to prayer. ^^ jf ^ ^^^g ^^^^ barking upon them; a dog, 
 
 and a great one too, and this made the women and children 
 Chr ti n 1 ^^^'''''^*^^ * ^^r durst they, for a while, to knock 
 
 her companions per- any more, for fear the mastiff should fly 
 
 plexetl about prayer. •' 
 
 upon them. Now, therefore, they were 
 
 greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, and knew not 
 
 what to do; knock they dui'st not, for fear of the dog; go 
 
 back they durst not, for fear the Keeper of that gate should 
 
 espy them as they so went, and should be offended Avith 
 
 them ; at last they thought of knocking again, and knocked 
 
 more vehemently than they did at the first. Then said the 
 
 Keeper of the gate, "Who is there? So the dog left off to 
 
 bark, and he opened unto them. 
 
 Then Chi'istiana made low obeisance, and said. Let not our 
 Lord be offended with his handmaidens, for that we have 
 knocked at his princely gate. Then said the Keeper, Whence 
 come ye, and what is that you would have? 
 
 Christiana answered, "We are come from whence Christian 
 did come, aud upon the same eiTand as he; to wit, to be, if 
 it shall j)lease you, graciously admitted by this gate into the 
 way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer, my 
 Lord, in the next place, that I am Christiana, once the wife 
 of Clu'istian, that now is gotten above. 
 
 With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, 
 What ! is she become now a pilgrim, that, but a while ago, 
 abhorred that life ? Then she bowed her head, and said, Yes, 
 and so are these my sweet babes also. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and let her in, and said 
 
 „ ^, - 1- . also, " Suffer the little childreoi to come 
 How Christiana is ' 
 
 entertained at the unto me;" and with that he shut up the 
 gate. 
 
 gate. This done, he called to a trumpeter 
 
 that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana with 
 
 shouting and sound of trumpet for joy. So he obeyed, and 
 
 sounded, and filled the air \\dth his melodious notes, (Luke 
 
 XV. 7.)
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 189 
 
 No-w, all tliis while poor Mercy did stand "witliout, tremb- 
 ling and crying, for fear that she was rejected. But when 
 Christiana had gotten admittance for herself and her boys, 
 then she began to make intercession for Mercy. 
 
 Chris. And she said. My Lord, I have a companion of 
 mine that stands yet without, that is come Christiana's 
 
 hither upon the same account as myself; 'i>l^?^^J°J^ ^^^r 
 '- 1 • -\ s- frieud Mercy. 
 
 one that is much dejected in her mind, for 
 
 that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for; whereas 
 
 I -^vas sent to by my husband's King to come. 
 
 Now, Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute 
 
 was as long to her as an hour; wherefore she prevented 
 
 Christiana from a fuller iiitercedmg for her, ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^.^ 
 
 bv knocking at the gate herself. And she the hungering soul 
 
 •' ^ ° , the lerrenter. 
 
 knocked then so loud, that she made Chris- 
 tiana to start. Then said the Keeper of the gate, Who is 
 there? and said Christiana, It is my friend. 
 
 So he opened the gate, and looked out, but Mercy was 
 fallen down without, in a swoon, for she fainted, and 
 
 was afraid that no gate would be oijened 
 
 ° Mercy faints, 
 
 to her. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and said, Damsel, I bid 
 thee arise. 
 
 sir, said she, I am faint; there is scarce life left in 
 me. But he answered. That one once said, "When my soul 
 fainted within me, I remembered the Lord ; and my prayer 
 came in unto thee, into thine holy temple," (Jonah ii. 7.) 
 Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou 
 art come. 
 
 Mercy. I am come for that unto which T was never invited, 
 as my friend Christiana was. Hers was from the King, and 
 mine was but from her. Wherefore I fear r^^^ pa„gg „£ j^g, 
 I presume. ^^*"''"s- 
 
 Keep. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place ? 
 
 Mercy, Yes ; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And, if 
 there is any grace or forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech 
 that I, thy poor handmaid, may be jiartaker thereof.
 
 100 THE pilgrim's PK0GKES8. 
 
 Then he took her again by the hand, and led her gently 
 
 „ , , . in, and said, I pray for all them that believe 
 
 Mark this. , / "' 
 
 on me, by what means soever they come 
 
 unto me. Then said he to those that stood by, Fetch some- 
 thing, and give it to Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her 
 faulting. So they fetched her a bimdle of myrrh; and a 
 while after, she was revived. 
 
 And now was Christiana and her boys, and Mercy, received 
 of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly imto 
 by him. Then said they yet further imto him, We are sorry 
 for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and farther 
 information what we must do. 
 
 I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed : by word, in 
 the j)romise of f oi-giveness ; by deed, in the way I obtained 
 it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, (Cant. i. 2 ;) and 
 the other as it shall be revealed, (John xx. 20.) 
 
 Ifow, I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words 
 imto them, whereby they were greatly gladded. He also had 
 them up to the top of the gate, and shewed them by what 
 Christ crucifietl seen ^^^^^^ they were saved; and told them withal, 
 afar off. That that sight they would have again, as 
 
 they went along m the way, to their comfort. 
 
 So he left them a while in a summer parlour below, where 
 Talk between the ^^^^y entered into talk by themselves ; and 
 Christians. |;^^^^^g Christiana began: Lord! how glad 
 am I that we are got in hither. 
 
 Mercy. So you well may; but I of aU have cause to leap for joy. 
 
 Chris. I thought one time, as I stood at the gate (because 
 I had knocked, and none did answer) that all oiu* labour had 
 been lost, especially when that ugly cur made such a heavy 
 barking against us. 
 
 Meraj. But my worse fear was after I saw that you was 
 taken into his favour, and that I was left behind. Now, 
 thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, " Two women shall 
 be grinding together, the one shall be taken and the othei 
 left," (Matt. xxiv. 41.) I had much ado to forbear crying 
 out, Undone! iindoue! 
 
 II
 
 THE PILGEIM's progress. 191 
 
 And afraid I was to knock any more ; but when I looked 
 up to what was written over the gate, I j-i^g^p^^.,. j, gs, 
 took courage. I also thought that I must 
 either knock again, or die; so I knocked, but I cannot tell 
 how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death. 
 
 Chris. Can you not tell how you linocked? I am sure 
 your knocks were so earnest that the very Christiana thinks 
 sound of them made me start; I thought I her companion prays 
 
 ' -It better thau slie. 
 
 never heard such knocking in all my life ; I 
 
 thought you would have come in by A^iolent hands, or have 
 taken the kingdom by storm, (Matt. xi. 12.) 
 
 Mercy. Alas! to be in my case, v."ho that so was could 
 but have done so ? You saw that the door was shut upon 
 me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, 
 I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, that would not have 
 knocked with all their might? But, pray, what said my 
 Lord to my rudeness ? Was he not angry with me ? 
 
 Chris. When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a 
 
 wonderful innocent smile ; 1 believe what ^, . ,. , , 
 
 ' Christ pleased 
 
 vou did pleased him well euoush, for he ^th loud and rest- 
 "' '■ , T. less praises, 
 
 shewed no sign to the contrary. But i 
 
 marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog ; had I known 
 that before, I fear I should not have had if the soiU at 
 heart enough to have ventured myself in ^'^^'uid'^^t" wil' in 
 this manner. But now we are in, we are in ; ve^c^it"waiUd* hardly 
 and I am glad with all my heart. ever set out. 
 
 Mercy. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, ^ 
 why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard; I hope he will 
 not take it amiss. 
 
 Ay, do, said the cliildren, and persuade him to hang him , 
 for we are afraid he will bite us when we tjjq children are 
 go hence. ''^'^^''^ °^ "^'^ ^°=- 
 
 So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to 
 the groiuid on her face before him, and worshipped, and said, 
 Let my Lord accept of the sacrifice of praise which I now 
 offer unto him with the calves of my lips. 
 
 So he said xmto her, "Peace be to thee, stand n p." But
 
 192 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 Devil. 
 
 I'irst Part, p. 30. 
 
 slie continued iipou lier face, and said, "Rigliteoiis art thon, 
 Lord, wlieu I plead -vvitli thee : yet let me talk with thee 
 of thy judgments," (Jer. xii. 1.) Wherefore dost thou keep 
 so cruel a dog in thy yard, at the sight of which such women 
 
 Mercy expostulates ^^^^ children as ws are ready to fly from thy 
 
 about the dog. gj^tg fQj. fg^jj.. 
 
 He answered and said, That dog has another owner, he 
 also is kept close in another man's groitnd, 
 only my pilgrims hear his barking; he be- 
 longs 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 of any goodwill to me or 
 mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to 
 me, and that they may be afraid to knock at this gate for 
 entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has wor- 
 ried some that I loved; but I take all at present patiently. 
 A chect to the ^ ^^'^ ^i^'S my pUgrims timely help, so they 
 carnal fear of the are not delivered up to his i^ower, to do to 
 them what his doggish nature would prompt 
 him to. But what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou 
 known never so much beforehand, thou wouldst not have 
 been afraid of a dog. 
 
 The beggars that go from door to door will, rather than 
 they wiU lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, 
 barking, and biting too, of a dog; and shall a dog — a dog 
 in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I tm-n to the 
 profit of pilgrims — keep any from coming to me? I de- 
 liver them from the lions, their darling from the power of 
 the dog. 
 
 Christians, when Mercij. Then said Mercy, I confess my 
 SeSrtSfwSm ignorance; I spake what I understood not; 
 of their Lord. J acknowledge that thou dost all things well. 
 
 Chris. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and 
 to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their 
 feet, and set them in the way of his steps, according as he 
 
 I
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 193 
 
 First Part, p. 31. 
 
 had dealt -with her husband before. So I saw in my dream, 
 that they walked on in their way, and had 
 the weather very comfortable to them. 
 Then Christiana began to sing, saying — 
 
 " Bless'd be the day that I begau 
 A pilgrim for to be ; 
 And blessed also be that man 
 That thereto movfed me. 
 
 " 'Tis ti-ue, 'twas long ere I began 
 To seek to live for ever : 
 But now I run fast as I can ; 
 'Tis better late than never. 
 
 " Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, 
 Are turned as we see, 
 That our beginning, as one saith, 
 Shews what our end will be." 
 
 Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced 
 
 in the way up which Christiana and her com- 
 
 , , 3 .1 • The devil's garden, 
 
 panions were to go, a garden, and that gar- 
 den 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 foimd them did gather them up, 
 and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, 
 as boys are apt to do, being ])leased with the trees, and 
 with the fruit that did hang thereon, did The chUdren eat of 
 plash them, and began to eat. Their mo- the enemy's fruit 
 ther did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys 
 went on. 
 
 Well, said she, my sons, you ttansgress, for that frait is 
 none of ours ; but she did not know that they did belong to 
 the enemy ; I wUl warrant you, if she had, she woiild have 
 been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went 
 on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two 
 bow-shots from the place that let them into xwo iU-favouied 
 the way, they espied two very ill-favoured °^^' 
 
 ones coming down apace to meet them, "With that Chris- 
 tiana and Mercy, her friend, covered themselves with their 
 
 N
 
 194 THE piloeim's peogeess? 
 
 veils, and so kept on their journey; the children also went 
 on before; so that at last they met together. Then they 
 that came down to meet them, came just up to the women, 
 They assault *^ ^ they would embrace them ; but Chris- 
 Chnstiana. ^j.^^g^ gg^jj^ Stand back, or go peaceably by, 
 as you should. Yet these two, as men that are deaf, re^ 
 garded not Chiistiana's words, but began to lay hands upon 
 
 The pilgrims them. At that Christiana, waxing very 
 
 struggle with them, ^^oth, spimied at them with her feet. 
 Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to 
 shift them. Christiana again said to them. Stand back, 
 and begone; for we have no money to lose, being pil- 
 grims as you see, and such, too, as live upon the charity 
 of our friends. 
 
 Ill-favoured. Then said one of the two of the men, We 
 make no assault upon you for money, but are come out to 
 teU you, that if you will but grant one small request, 
 which we shall ask, we will make women of you for 
 ever. 
 
 Chris. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, 
 made answer again, We Avill neither hear, nor regard, nor 
 jrield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, cannot stay; 
 our business is a business of life and death. So, again, she 
 and her companions made a fresh essay to go past them ; but 
 they letted them in their way. 
 
 Ill-fav. And they said, We intend no hurt to yoiu: lives; 
 it is another thing we woiild have. 
 
 Chris. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and 
 
 soul, for I know it is for that you are come ; but we will die 
 
 rather upon the spot than suffer ourselves to be brought into 
 
 such snares as shall hazard our well-being hereafter. And 
 
 with that they Ijoth shrieked out, and cried, 
 She cries out. ,- n . i 
 
 Miu-der! murder! and so put themselves 
 
 under those laws that are provided for the protection of 
 
 women, (Dent. xxii. 23-27.) But the men stUl made their 
 
 approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. 
 
 They, therefore, cried out again.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS 195 
 
 Now, they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at 
 
 which they came, their voice was heard ^. . , . 
 
 J ' It IS good, to C17 
 
 from where they were, thither ; wherefore out when we are a» 
 
 •^ . saulted. 
 
 some of the house came out, and knowing 
 
 that it was Christiana's tongiie, they made haste to her 
 relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the 
 women were in a veiy great scuffle, the children also stood 
 crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call 
 out to the niffians, saying. What is that The Reliever 
 thing that you do ? Would yon make my '=°°"=^- 
 
 Lord's people to transgress? He also attempted to take 
 them, but they did make their escape over The iU ones fiy to 
 the wall, into the garden of the man to the devii for relief. 
 whom the great dog belonged ; so the dog became their pro- 
 tector. 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 somevvhat 
 affrighted; we thank thee also, for that thou earnest in to 
 our help, for otherwise we had been overcome. 
 
 Believer. So after a few more words, this Eeliever said 
 asfoUoweth: I marvelled much when you The EeUever talks 
 were entertained at the gate above, being to the women, 
 [as] ye knew, that ye were but weak women, that you peti- 
 tioned not the Lord there for a conductor ; then might you 
 have avoided these troubles and dangers, for he would have 
 gi'anted you one. 
 
 Chris, Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken with our 
 
 present blessine, that dangers to come were , , 
 
 -i-Ti 111 Mark tms. 
 
 forgotten by us; besides, who could have 
 
 thought, that so near the King's palace, there should have 
 lurked such naughty ones? Indeed, it had been well for us, 
 had we asked our Lord for one ; but, since our Lord knew it 
 would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us ! 
 Hel. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked 
 for, lest, by so doing, they become of little we lose for want 
 esteem; but when the want of a thing is of asking for. 
 felt, it then comes under, in the eyea of him that feels it,
 
 196 THE pilgrim's PROGREgS. 
 
 that estimate that properly is its due, and so, consequently;, 
 will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a con- 
 ductor, you would not neither so have bewailed that over- 
 sight of yours, in not asking for one, as now you have occa- 
 sion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make 
 you wary. 
 
 Chris. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess 
 our folly, and ask one? 
 
 Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present him with. 
 To go back again you need not; for in all places where you 
 shall come, you will find no want at all; for in every of 
 my Lord's lodgings which he has prepared for the reception 
 of his pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all 
 attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, " He will be inquired 
 of by them, to do it for them," (Ezek. xxxvi. 37.) And it 
 is a poor thing that is not worth asking for. When he had 
 thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went 
 on their way. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is 
 
 here ! I made account we had now been past all danger, 
 
 The mistake of ^^^ that we shoidd never see sorrow 
 Mercy. ^^^g^ 
 
 Ghris. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to 
 
 Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but aa for 
 Christiana's giult. j- i^ • i .t 
 
 me, my lamt 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 where provision might have been 
 
 had. I am therefore much to be blamed. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you 
 
 came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle, 
 
 Chris. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of 
 
 doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about 
 
 this ; for, methought I saw two men, as like these as ever 
 
 the world they could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting 
 
 Cl.ristiana's dream tow they might prevent my salvation. I 
 
 repeated. will tell you their very words. They said, (it 
 
 waa when I was in my troubles,) What shall we do with this
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 197 
 
 woman? for slie cries out, waking and sleeping, for forgive- 
 ness. If she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall 
 lose her as we have lost her husband. This, you know, 
 might have made me take heed, and have provided when 
 provision might have been had. 
 
 Mercy. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an 
 
 occasion ministered unto us, to behold our 
 
 Mercy makes goorl 
 
 own imperfections J so our Lord has taken use of their ntgiect 
 occasion thereby to make manifest the 
 riches of his grace ; for he, as we see, has followed us with 
 unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that 
 were stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure. 
 
 Thus, now when thoy had talked away a little more time, 
 they drew nigh to a house which stood in the way, which 
 house was built for the relief of pilgrims ; as you will find 
 more fully related in the First Part of these Records of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on towards the house, (the 
 House of the Interpreter, ) and when they xalk in the Inter- 
 came to the door, they heard a great talk g^'^^ft'fa'a'^lofn'gon 
 in the house. They then gave ear, and pi'enmage. 
 heard, as they thought, Christiana mentioned by name. For 
 you must know that there went along, even before her, a 
 talk of her and her children's going on pilgrimage. And 
 this thing was the more pleasing to them, because they had 
 heard that she was Christian's wife, that woman who was 
 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, she kuocka at the 
 as she had done at the gate before. Now, '^°°'^' 
 
 when she had knocked, there came to the door a youug 
 
 damsel, named Innocent, and opened the „, , 
 
 ' 1 I 1 1 T ^"® ^°'^^ '^ open- 
 
 door, and looked, and behold two women ed to them by luno- 
 
 CCllt. 
 
 were there. 
 
 Damsel. Then said the damsel to them, With whom would 
 you speak in this place ? 
 
 Chris. Christiana answered. We understand that this is a
 
 198 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 privileged place for those tliat are become pilgrims, and we 
 now at tliis 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 fax- spent, and we are loth 
 to-night to go any fiirther. 
 
 Damsel. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may 
 tell it to my Lord within ? 
 
 Chris, My name is Christiana; I was the wife of that pil- 
 grim that some years ago did travel this way, and these be 
 his four children. This maiden also is my companion, and is 
 going on pilgrimage too. 
 
 Innocent. Then ran Innocent in, (for that was her name,) 
 and said to those within. Can you think who is at the door ? 
 
 Joy in the house There isj Christiana and her children, and 
 tha "'Christiana'' is ^^r companion, aU waiting for entai'taiu- 
 turned pilgrim. j^g^^ here. Then they leaped for joy, and 
 
 went and told their master. So he came to the door, and 
 looking upon her he said, Art thou that Christiana whom 
 Christian, the good man, left behind him, when he betook 
 himself to a pilgrim's life ? 
 
 Chris. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as to 
 slight my husband's troubles, and that left him to go on in 
 his journey alone, and these are his fou.r children; but now 
 I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right 
 but tliis. 
 
 Inter. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the 
 man that said to his son, " Go, work to-day in my vineyard. 
 He answered and said, I wiU not : but afterward he repented 
 and went," (Matt, xxi 29.) 
 
 Chris. 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, chUdi-en, come in; come, maiden, come in. 
 So he had them all into the house.
 
 Cliriatiana aaJ her coiaprinv «ihown the m.-in with tho rau^k-rake at the 
 Interpreter's house. — Pogc 199.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS 199 
 
 So, when they were within, they were bidden sit down 
 and rest them ; the which when they had done, those that 
 attended upon the pilgrims in the house, came into the room 
 to see them. And one smiled, and another smUed, and they 
 all smiled, for joy that Christiana was become a pilgrim. 
 They also looked upon the boys. They stroked them over 
 the faces with the hand, in token of their kind reception 
 of them. They also carried it lovingly old saints glad to 
 to Mercy, and bid all welcome into their ^^jj^^j^ ^'o^.g^^ayf 
 I\Iaster'3 house. 
 
 After a wlule, because supper was not ready, the Inter- 
 preter took them into his significant rooms. The Signtacant 
 and shewed them what Christian, Chris- Rooms. 
 
 tiana's hiisband, had seen some time before. Here, therefore, 
 they saw the man in the cage, the man and Y'aat Part, pp. 
 Ida di-eam, the man that cut his way through ^^*^" 
 
 his enemies, and the pictui-e of the biggest of them all, toge- 
 ther with the rest of those things that were then so profit- 
 able to Christian. 
 
 This done, and after these things had been somewhat 
 
 digested by Christiana and her company, the Interpreter 
 
 takes them apart again, and has them first into a room where 
 
 was a man that could look no way but ^^^ ^^^^ ^.,^ 
 
 downwards, with a muck-rake in his hand. the muck-rake ex- 
 
 ' . poundea. 
 
 There stood also one over his head, with a 
 
 celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that crown foi 
 
 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 persiiade myself that I know some- 
 what the meaning of this ; for this is a figure of a man of this 
 world, is it not, good sir ? 
 
 Inter. Thou hast said the right, said he, and liia muck< 
 rake doth shew his carnal mind. And whereas thou seest 
 him rather give heed to rake Tip straws and sticks, and the 
 dust of the floor, than to what He says that calls to him 
 from above with the celestial crown in his hand, it is to shew
 
 200 THE pilgrim's pkogress, 
 
 that heaven is but as a fable to some, and that things here are 
 counted the only things substantial. Now, whereas it was 
 also shewed thee, that the man could look no way but down- 
 wards, 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. 
 
 „. . ,. , CJirls. Then said Christiana, Oh, deliver 
 
 Christiana B pray- ' ' 
 
 er against the muck- me from this muck-rake ! 
 
 Inter. That prayer, said the Interpreter, 
 has lain by till it is almost rusty. "Give me not riches," 
 (Prov. XXX. 8,) is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand. 
 Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things 
 now looked aftei*. 
 
 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said. It is, 
 alas ! too true. 
 
 When the Interpreter had shewn them this, he has them 
 into the very best room in the house; a very brave room it 
 was. So he bid them look round about, and see if they 
 could find anything profitable there. Then they looked 
 round and round ; for there was nothing there to be seen but 
 a very great spider on the wall : and that they overlooked. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing ; but Chris- 
 tiana held her peace. 
 
 Inter. But, said the Interpreter, look agam; and she there- 
 fore looked again, and said. Here is not anything but an ugly 
 spider, who hangs by her hands upon the 
 wall. Then said he. Is there but one spi- 
 der in all this spacious room? Then the water stood in 
 
 Talk about the Christiana's eyes, for she was a woman 
 Bpider. quick of apprehension; and she said. Yea, 
 
 Lord, there is here more than one. Yea, and spiders whose 
 venom is far more destructive than that which is in her. 
 The Interpreter then looked pleasantly upon her, and said, 
 Thou hast said the truth. This made Mercy blush, and the 
 boys to cover their faces, for they all began now to under- 
 stand the riddle. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again, * ' The spider taketh hold
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 201 
 
 ■with her hands, (as you see,) and is in kings' palaces," (Pro v. 
 XXX. 28.) And wherefore is this recorded, but to shew you, 
 that how full of the venom of sin soever you jhe interpre- 
 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 ! 
 
 Chris. I thought, said Christiana, of something of this, 
 but I could not imagine it aU. I thought that we were like 
 spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what fine 
 room soever we were ; but that by this spider, this venomous 
 and ill-favoured creature, we were to learn how to act faith, 
 that came not into my mind. And yet she has taken hold 
 ■with her hands, as I see, and dwells in the best room in the 
 house. God has made nothing in vain. 
 
 Then they seemed all to be glad; but the water stood in 
 their eyes ; yet they looked one upon another, and also bowed 
 before the Interpreter. 
 
 He had them then into another room, where was a hen 
 and chickens, and bid them observe awhile, ofthehenand 
 So one of the chickens went to the trough chickens. 
 to drink, and every time she drank she lift up her head and 
 her eyes towards heaven. See, said he, what this little 
 chick doth, and learn of her to acknowledge whence your 
 mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Yet 
 again, said he, observe and look; so they gave heed and 
 perceived that the hen did walk in a fourfold method 
 towards her chickens. 1. She had a common call, and that 
 she hath aU 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, (Matt, xxiii. 37.) 
 
 Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these 
 chickens to his obedient ones. For, answerable to her, him- 
 self has his methods, which he walketh in towards his people ; 
 by his common call, he gives nothing; by his sj)ecial 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,
 
 202 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 my darlings, to lead you into the room where sucli things 
 are, because you are women, and they are easy for you. 
 
 Chris. And, sir, said Chi-istiana, pray let us see some 
 Of the butcher and Diore. So he had them into the slaughter- 
 the sheep. house, where was a butcher killing of 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 wrongs without miu-mur- 
 ings and complaints. Behold how quietly she taketh her 
 death, and without objecting, she suffereth her skin to be 
 puUed over her ears. Your King doth caU you his sheep. 
 
 After this, he led them into his garden, where was great 
 variety of flowers; and he said. Do you see 
 all these ? So 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 some ; also where the gardener hath set them, 
 there they staad, and quai-rel not with one another. 
 
 Again, he had them into his field, which he had sowed 
 with wheat and corn ; but when they beheld, 
 the tops of aU were cut ofiF, only the straw 
 remained; he said again, This ground was dunged, and 
 jJoughed, aud sowed ; but what shall we do with the crop ? 
 Then said Christiana, Burn some, and make muck of the 
 rest. Then said the Interpreter again, Fruit, you see, is that 
 thing you look for, and for want of that you condemn it to 
 the fire, and to be trodden imder foot of men : beware that 
 in this you condemn not yoiu'selves. 
 
 Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a 
 
 Of the robin and little robin with a gx-eat spider in his mouth ; 
 the spider. g^ ^^^ Interpreter said, Look here. So they 
 looked, and Mercy wondered; but Christiana said. What a 
 disparagement i* it to such a little pretty bird as the I'obin- 
 redbreast is, he being also a bird above many, that loveth to 
 maintaia a kind of sociableness with man; I liad thought 
 they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or upon other such 
 harmless matter. I like him worse than I did. 
 
 Of the field.
 
 Christiana at the house of the Interpreter. — Page 202.
 
 THE wlgrim's progress. 203 
 
 The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an emblem, very 
 apt to set forth some professors by ; for to sight, they are, as 
 this robia, pretty of note, coloiu', and carriage. They seem 
 also to have a very great love for professors that are sincere ; 
 and above all other, to desire to sociate with them, and to be 
 in their company, as if they could hve upon the good man's 
 crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that they 
 frequent the house of the godly and the appointments of the 
 Lord; but, when they are by themselves, as the robin, they 
 can catch and gobble »p 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 ^ 
 
 IT'- -> •" Pray, and you \m11 
 
 again desired that the Interpreter would get at that which yet 
 
 . ■. n J n <• ,1 .1 • lies uurevealed. 
 
 either shew or tell ot some other thmgs 
 
 that are profitable. 
 
 Then the Interpreter began, and said. The fatter the sow 
 is, the more she desires the mirej the fatter the ox is, the 
 more gamesomely he goes to the slaughter; and the more 
 healthy the lusty man is, the more prone he is imto evil. 
 
 There is a desire in women to go neat and fine, and it is a 
 comely thing to be adorned with that that in God's sight is 
 of great price. 
 
 It is easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a 
 v.'hole year together. So it is easier for one to begin to pro- 
 fess well, than to hold out as he should to the end. 
 
 Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will willingly cast 
 that overboard that is of the smallest value in the vessel ; 
 but who will throw the best out first ? None but he that 
 feareth not God. 
 
 One leak will sink a shij); and one sin wUl destroy a 
 sinner. 
 
 He that forgets his friend, is ungrateful unto him ; but he 
 that forgets his Saviour, is unmerciful to himself. 
 
 He that lives in sin, and looks for happiness hereafter, is 
 like him that soweth cockle, and thinks t^) fill his barn with 
 wheat or barley.
 
 204 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 If a man woxild 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. 
 
 K the world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing 
 of that worth with men; what is heaven, which God com- 
 mendeth ? 
 
 K the life that is attended with so many troubles, is so 
 loth to be let go by lis, what is the life above? 
 
 Everybody will cry up the goodness of men ; but who is 
 there that is, as he shoidd, affected with ,the goodness of 
 God? 
 
 We seldom sit down to meat, but we eat and leave; so 
 there is in Jesus Christ more merit and righteousness than 
 the whole world has need of. 
 
 When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into 
 Of the tree that is ^^^ garden again, and had them to a ti-ee, 
 rotten at heart. 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 outside is fair, and whose 
 inside is rotten, it is to which many may be compared that 
 are in the garden of God; who with their mouths speak high 
 in behalf of God, but indeed wUl do nothing for him ; Avhose 
 leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to be 
 tiiuler for the devil's tinder-box. 
 
 Now supper was ready, the table spread, and all things set 
 They are at on the board; so they sat down and did 
 Bupper. gg^^^ when one had given thanks. And the 
 
 Interpreter did usually entertain those that lodged with him, 
 with music at meals; so the minstrels played. There was 
 also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he had. His 
 Bong was this : — 
 
 " The Lord is only my support, 
 And he that doth me feed ; 
 How can I then want anything 
 Whereof I stand in need?" 
 
 When the song and music was ended, the Interpreter
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 205 
 
 ftsked Christiana what it was that at first did move her 
 to betake herself to a Pilgrim's life. Chris- Talk at supper. 
 tiana answered, First, The loss of my husband came 
 into my mind, at which I was heartUy ^ repetition of 
 
 grieved ; but all that was but natural affec- Christiana's eiperi- 
 o ' ence. 
 
 tion. 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 ELing 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 ? 
 
 Chris. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs Timorous, (she 
 was akin to him that would have persuaded my husband to 
 go back, for fear of the lions.) She aU to befooled me for, 
 as she called it, my intended desperate adventure ; she also 
 urged what she could to dishearten me to it ; the hardship 
 and troubles that my husband met with in the way : but all 
 this I got over pretty well. But a dream that I had of two 
 ill-looking ones, that I thought did plot how to make me 
 miscarry in my journey, that hath troubled me much; yea, 
 it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one 
 that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a mischief, 
 and to turn me out of the way. Yea, I may tell my Lord, 
 though I would not have everybody know it, that between 
 this and the gate by which we got into the way, we were 
 both 80 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 a question put to 
 addressed himself to Mercy, and said unto Mercy. 
 
 her, And what moved thee to come hither, sweet heart?
 
 206 
 
 THE PrLGRIM*S PR0GRT!!3S, 
 
 Mercy's answer. 
 
 Then Llercy blushed and trembled, and for awhile cou- 
 tiniied silent. 
 
 Inter. Then said he, Be not afraid, only beUeve, and gpeak 
 thy mind. 
 
 Mercy. So she began, and said. Truly, sir, my want of 
 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 T what 
 it is to mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that 
 were good relations. 
 
 Inter. What was it, then, dear heart, that hath prevailed 
 with thee to do as thou hast done ? 
 
 Meroj. Why, when our fi-iend here was packing up to be 
 gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to see 
 her; so we knocked at the door and went in. When we 
 were within, and seeing what she was doing, Ave asked what 
 ■was her meaning. She said, she was sent for to go to her 
 husband ; and then she up and told us how she had seen him in 
 a dream, dwelling in a cwrioxis place, among immortals, wear- 
 ing 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 teUing 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 mo • 
 ther, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I may, go 
 along with Christiana. 
 
 So I asked her further of the tnith 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, arato her husband, and his King. 
 
 Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given credit 
 to the truth. Tlion art a Eutb. who did, for the love ehe 
 
 I
 
 THE PILGRIiM'S PBOGEESS. ' 207 
 
 bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, leave father and 
 mother, and the laud 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," (Ruth ii. 12.) 
 
 Now supper was ended, and pi'eparation was made for 
 bed ; the women were laid singly alone, and xhey address 
 the boys by themselves. Now when Mercy tiiemseives for bed. 
 was in bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now her 
 doubts of missing at last, were removed Mercy's good night's 
 further from her than ever they were *'®^'- 
 
 before. So she lay blessing and praising God, who had had 
 such favour for her. 
 
 In the morning they rose with the sun, and prepared 
 themselves for their departure; but the Interpreter would 
 have them tarry awhile, for, said he, you must orderly go 
 from hence. Then said he to the damsel that first opened 
 unto them, Take them and have them into the garden to the 
 bath, and there wash them, and make them clean from the 
 soil which they have gathered by travelling. Then Innocent 
 the damsel took them, and had them into the garden, and 
 brought them to the bath; so she told The bath Sancti- 
 them that there they must wash and be fication. 
 
 clean, for so her master would have the women to do that 
 called at his house, as they were going on pilgrimage. They 
 then went in and washed, yea, they and the 
 boys and aU; and they came out of that 
 bath, not only sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and 
 strengthened in their joints. So when they came in, they 
 looked fairer a deal than when they went out to the washing. 
 
 When they were returned out of the garden from the 
 bath, the Interpreter took them, and looked upon them, and 
 said 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 
 brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they might b«
 
 208 THE pilgrim's progeess, 
 
 known in the places Mliitlier they were yet to go. Now the 
 eeal was the contents and sum of the passover which the 
 children of Israel did eat when they came out from the land 
 of Egypt, and the mark was set between their eyes. This 
 seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament 
 to their faces. It also added to their gravity, and made 
 their countenances more like them of angels, (Exod. xiii. 
 8-10.) 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that waited 
 upon these women, Go into the vestry and fetch out gar- 
 
 They are clothed. °^^"*^ ^°'" ^^^^'^ people; so she went and 
 fetched out white raiment, and laid down 
 before him ; 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 j for 
 that they could not see that glory each one on herseK which 
 they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they began 
 to esteem each other better than themselves. "For you are 
 
 fairer than I am," said one; and, "You are 
 True humility. ' ' 
 
 more comely than I am," said another. 
 The children also stood amazed to see into what fashion they 
 were brought. 
 
 The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one 
 Great-heart, and bid him take sword and helmet and shield ; 
 and take these my daughters, said he, and conduct them to 
 the house called Beautiful, at which place they wiU rest next. 
 So he took his weapons and went before them; and the In- 
 terpreter 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 — 
 
 " Tliis place has been our second stage : 
 Ilore we have heard and seen 
 Those good things that, from ago to ago, 
 To others hid have been. 
 
 " The dung-hill raker, spider, heo, 
 The chicken, too, to me 
 Hath taught a lesson ; let me then 
 Conformed to it be.
 
 THE .pilgrim's PROGRESS. 209 
 
 " 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 fcai." 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that tliey went on, and Great-heart 
 went before them : so they went and came to the place where 
 Christian's bnrden fell off his back, and timibled into a sepul- 
 chre. Here, then, they made a pause ; and here also they 
 blessed God. Now, said Christiana, it comes to my mind, what 
 was said to us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon 
 by word and deed : by word, that is, by the promise ; by deed, to 
 Avit, in the way it was obtaiued. What the promise is, of that I 
 know something ; but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the 
 way that it was obtained, Mr Great-heart, I suppose you know ; 
 wherefore, if you please, let us hear you discourse thereof. 
 
 Great-heart. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained 
 
 by some one, for another that hath need 
 
 •' .A comment upcu 
 
 thereof : not by the person pardoned, but in what was said at tiie 
 
 ... 1 -r 1 1 gate, or a discourse 
 
 the way, saith another, in which i have ob- o£ our being justiiied 
 tained it. So then, to speak to the ques- ^ 
 tion more at large, the x^ardon that you and Mercy and these 
 boys have attained, was obtained by another, to wit, by him 
 that let you in at the gate ; and he hath obtained it in this 
 double way. He has performed righteousness to cover you, 
 and spUt blood to wash you in. 
 
 Chris. But if he jiarts with his righteousnesp to us, what 
 will he have for himseK 2 
 
 Great-heart. He has more righteousness than you have 
 need of, or than he needeth himself. 
 
 Chris. Pray make that appear. 
 
 Great-heart. With all my heart ; but first I must premise, 
 that he of whom we are now about to speak ia one that has 
 not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be 
 distinguished, impossible to be di\-ided. Unto each of these
 
 210 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 natures a righteousnesa belongeth, and each righteousness is 
 essential to that nature ; so that one may as easily cause the 
 natm-e to be extinct, as to separate its justice or righteous- 
 ness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, Ave are not 
 made partakers, so as that they, or any of them, should be 
 put upon us that we might bo made Just, and live thereby. 
 Besides these, there is a righteousness which this Person has, 
 aa 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 dis- 
 tinguished from the Godhead; but a righteousness which 
 standeth in the union of both natures, and may probably 
 be called, the righteoiisness that is essential to his being 
 prepared of God to the capacity of the mediatory office 
 which he was to be intrusted with. If he parts with his first 
 righteousness, he parts with his Godhead; if he parts with 
 his second righteousness, he parts with the purity of his 
 manhood; if he parts with this third, he parts with that 
 perfection that capacitates him to the office of mediation. 
 He has, therefore, another righteousness, which standeth in 
 performance, or obedience to a revealed wUl; and that is it 
 that he puts upon sinners, and that by which their sins 
 are covered. Wherefore ho saith, "As by one man's dis- 
 obedience, many were made sinners; so by the obedience of 
 one, shall many be made righteous," (Romans v. 19.) 
 
 Chris. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes; for though they are essential to his 
 natures and office, and so cannot be communicated imto 
 another, yet it is by virtue of them, that the righteousness that 
 justifies is, for that piu-pose, efficacious. The righteousness 
 of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience; the righteous- 
 ness of his manhood giveth capabiUty to his obedience to 
 justify; and the righteousness that standeth in the union 
 of these two natures to his office, giveth authority to that 
 righteousness to do the work for which it is ordaiued. 
 
 So then, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, haa 
 no need for, for he is God without it ; here is a righteousness
 
 THE pilgrim's PKOGRESg. 211 
 
 that Clirist, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he 
 in 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 Chi-ist, as 
 God, as man, as God-man, has no need of, with reference to 
 himself, and therefore he can spare it; a justifymg righteous- 
 ness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he giveth 
 it away; hence it is called "the gift of righteousness," (Pto- 
 maus V. 17.) This righteousness, since Christ Jesus the 
 Lord has made himself uaider the law, must he given away; 
 for the law doth not only bind him that is under it "to do 
 justly," but to use charity. Wherefore he must, he ought, 
 by the law, if he hath two coats, to give one to him that 
 hath none. Now, our Lord, indeed, hath two coats, one for 
 himself, and one to spare ; wherefore he freely bestows one 
 upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana, and 
 Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon 
 come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your Lord 
 Chi'ist is he that has worked, and has given away what ho 
 wi'ought for to the next poor beggar he meets. 
 
 But, again, in order to pardon by deed, there must some- 
 thing be paid to God as a j)rice, as well as something prepared 
 to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us ux^ to the jiist 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, (Romans iv. 24 ; ) and this is by the blood of your 
 Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died 
 your death for your transgressions, (Gal. iii. 13.) Thus ha 
 he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and 
 covered yoiu" polluted and deformed souls wuth righteous- 
 ness. For the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will 
 not hurt you when he comes to judge the world. 
 
 Chris. This is brave. Now, I see there was something to 
 
 be learned by our being pardoned by Avord ^ . .. « . 
 •^ ° ^ •* Christiana anect- 
 
 and deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to e^l wJtii this way of 
 
 , redemptioa. 
 
 keep this in mind ; and, my children, do you 
 
 remember it also. But, Sir, was not this it that made my 
 
 s
 
 212 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 good Christian's burden fall from off his shoulder, and that 
 made him give three leaps for joy ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, it was the belief of this, that cut 
 
 those strings that conld not be cut by other means; and 
 
 How the strings it was to give him a proof of the virtue of 
 
 Ws biudei Shim this, that he was suffered to carry his bm-den 
 
 were cut. ^q ^j^g ^ross. 
 
 Chris. I thought so; for thoiigh my heart -was lightful 
 and joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and 
 joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, 
 though I have felt but little as yet, that if the most burdened 
 man in the world was here, and did see and believe as T now 
 do, it would make his heart the more merry and blithe. 
 
 Great-heart. There is not only comfort, and the ease of a 
 
 „ ,. . burden bronoht to ns, by the sight and con- 
 How affection to . ^ ' •' ° 
 
 Christ is begot in tha sideration of these, but an endeared affection 
 begot in us by it ; for who can, if he doth 
 but once think that jxardon comes, not only by promise, but 
 thus, but be affected by the way and means of his redemption, 
 and so with the man that hath wrought it for him ? 
 
 Chris. 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 
 
 Cause of admira- ^0 have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten 
 
 tion. thousand times more than I am worth ! No 
 
 marvel that this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, 
 
 and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded 
 
 he wished me with him; but vile wretch that I was, I let 
 
 him come all alone. Oh, Mercy, that thy father and mother 
 
 were here; yea, and Mrs Timorous also; nay, I wish now with 
 
 all my heart, that here was Madame Wanton too. Sm-ely, 
 
 surely their hearts would be affected; nor could the fear of the 
 
 one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them 
 
 to go home again, and to refuse to become good pilgrims. 
 
 Great-heart. You speak now in the warmth of your 
 affections. Will it, think you, be always thus with you? 
 
 I
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 213 
 
 Besides, this is not communicated to every one tliat did see 
 
 your Jesus bleed. There M^ere that stood by, and that saw 
 
 the blood run from his heart to the ground, and yet were so 
 
 far off this, that, instead of lamenting, they laughed at him ; 
 
 and, instead of becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts 
 
 against him. So that all that j^oxi have, my Tobeaffectedwith 
 
 daughters, you have by a peculiar impres- gf ^^^rd^nel^Is^'a 
 
 sion made by a divine contemplating upon *^^^ special. 
 
 •what I have spoken to you. Bemember that it was told 
 
 you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her 
 
 chickens. This you have, therefore, by a special grace. 
 
 Now, I saw still in my dream, that they went on imtil they 
 
 were cometo the place that Simple, and Sloth, „. , ,„, , 
 
 '^ ^ ' ' Simple, and Sloth, 
 
 andPresumption, lay and slept in, when Chi-is- and Presumption 
 
 J.1, -1 ■ J -u 1 ij J.1 hanged, and why. 
 
 tianwent by on pilgrimage; and, beiiold, they 
 
 were hanged up in irons, a little way olf on the other side. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and 
 conductor, What are those three men? and for what ai'e 
 they hanged there ? 
 
 Great-heart. These three men were men of very bad quali 
 ties. They had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and 
 whosoever they could, they hindered. They were for sloth 
 and folly themselves, and whoever they coidd persuade with, 
 they made so too ; and, withal, taught them to presume that 
 they should do well at last. They were asleep when Chi'istian 
 went by ; and now you go by, they are hanged. 
 
 Behold here how the slothful are a sign. 
 
 Hung up, 'cause holy ways they did decline. 
 
 See here too how the child doth play the man, 
 
 And weak gi-ow strong, when Great-heart leads the van. 
 
 Mercy. But could they persuade any to be of then- opinion? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes ; they turned several out of the way. 
 
 There was Slow -pace, that they persuaded Their crhnea. 
 
 to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short-wind, 
 
 with one No-heart, with one Linger-after Who they pre- 
 ,.,.,, oi -u 1 1 -ii vailed upon to turn 
 
 lust, and with one Sleepy -head, and with a out of the way. 
 
 young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the way,
 
 214 THE pilgeim's peogress. 
 
 and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report 
 of your Lord, persuading others that he was a taskmaster. 
 They also brought up an evil report of the good land, 
 saying it vvas not half so good as some pretend it was. 
 They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the 
 very beit of them meddlesome, troublesome busybodies. 
 Further they could call the bread of God husks ; the com- 
 forts of his chUdren, fancies j the travel and labour of pil- 
 grims, things to no purpose. 
 
 Chris. Nay, said Christiana, if they W3re such, they shall 
 never be bewailed by me. They have but what they deserve ; 
 and I think it is well that they hang so near the highway, 
 that others may see and take warning. But had it not been 
 well if their crimes had been engraven on some plate of iron 
 or brass, and left here, even where thev did their mischief, 
 for a caution to other bad men? 
 
 Great-heart. So it is, as you well may perceive, if you will 
 go a little to the wall. 
 
 MerrAj. No, no; let them hang, and their names rot, and 
 
 their crimes live for ever against them. I think it a high 
 
 favour that they were hanged before we came hither; who 
 
 knows else what they might have done to such poor women 
 
 as we are? Then she turned it into a song, saying — 
 
 " Now then, you three, hang there, and be a sign 
 To all that shall against the truth combine. 
 And let him that comes after fear this end, 
 If unto pilgrims he is not a friend. 
 And thou, my soul, of all such men bewai'e, 
 That unto holiness opposers are." 
 
 Thus they went on, till they came at the foot of the HiU 
 
 DifBculty, where, again, their good friend, 
 
 First Part, p. 46. ,, ^ ' , ^\ ^ • xj.ii 
 
 JNIr Great-heart, took an occasion to teU 
 
 them of what happened there when Christian himself went 
 
 ^. , ,-^ ,>. X by. So he had them first to the spring. 
 
 It is difficult get- •' , . 
 
 ting of good doctrine Lo, said he, this is the spring that Christian 
 in erroneous times. , , ^ , ,. ■, . J_^ • ^ ■^^ j 
 
 drank of, before he went up this hiU; and 
 
 then it was clear and good, but now it is dirty with the feet 
 
 of some that are not desirous that pilgi-ims here should
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 21-5 
 
 quench their thirst, (Ezek, xxxiv. 18.) Thereat, Mercy 
 said. And why so envious, trow? But, said their guide, it 
 will do, if taken up, and put into a vessel that is sweet and 
 good; for then the dirt wUl sink to the bottom, and the 
 water ynll come out by itself more clear. Thus, therefore, 
 Christiana and her companions were compelled to do. They 
 took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand 
 till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank 
 thereof. 
 
 Next, he shewed them the two by-ways that were at the 
 foot of the hdl, where Formality and Hypo- By-paths, though 
 crisy lost themselves. And, said he, these keep^aiWrom' goUi'g 
 are dangerous paths. Two were here cast "' ^^^°^- 
 away when Christian came by; and although, as you see, 
 these ways are since stopped up with chains, posts, and a 
 ditch, yet there are that will choose to adventure here, rather 
 than take the pains to go up this hUl. 
 
 Chris. "The way of transgressors is hard," (Prov. xiii. 15.) 
 It is a wonder that they can get into those ways without 
 danger of breakino; their necks. 
 
 Great-heart. They wUl venture. Yea, if at any time any 
 of the king's servants do happen to see them, and do call 
 unto them, and tell them that they are in the wrong ways, 
 and do bid them beware the danger, then they will raUingly 
 return them answer, and say, "As for the word that thou 
 hast spoken unto us in the name of the Lord, we wUl not 
 hearken unto thee ; but we will certainly do whatsof:s(r 
 thing goeth forth out of our own mouth," &c., (Jer. xliv. 
 16, 17.) Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see 
 that these ways are made cautionary enoTigh, not only by 
 these posts, and ditch, and chain, but also by being hedged 
 up, yet they will choose to go there. 
 
 Chris. They are idle ; they love not to take pains ; up-hill 
 
 way is unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 unto them as it is written, "The way of some do choose to 
 
 go in by-ways, 
 the slothful man is as an hedge of thorns, 
 
 (Prov. XV. 10.) Yea, they wiU rather choose to walk upon a
 
 216 TRY. pilgkim's progress. 
 
 suare, than to go up this Mil, and the rest of this vay to 
 
 the city. 
 
 Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, and 
 
 The hill puts the "P ^^^ ^^^ ^^^7 went; but before they got 
 Pilgrims to it. ^q ^j^q ^^^p^ Christiana began to pant; and 
 
 said, I dare say this is a breathing hill. No marvel if they 
 that love their ease more than their souls, choose to them- 
 selves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; 
 also the least of the children began to cry. Come, come, 
 said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the 
 Prince's arbour. Then took he the little boy by the hand, 
 and led hkn up thereto. 
 
 When they were come to the arbour, they Avere very 
 
 They sit in the wUling to sit down, for they were all in a 
 
 arbour. pelting heat. Then said Mercy, How sweet 
 
 is rest to them that labour, (Matt. xi. 28.) And how good 
 
 First Part, ^^ ^^^ Prince of pilgrims to provide such 
 
 pp. 4649. resting-places for them ! Of this arbour 1 
 
 have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here let 
 
 us beware of sleeping; for, as T have heard, for that it cost 
 
 poor Christian dear. 
 
 Then said Mr Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my 
 
 The little boy's P^^**^ ^^J"^' ^°^ ^° ^^^ <^^°' ^^^^* *^'"^ 
 answer to the guide, you now of eoinflT on pilgrimage? Sir, said 
 luid also to Mercy. *', , , ^ * =, ,1 ° , , ' 
 
 the least, 1 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 up a ladder, and the way to heU is 
 as down a hill. But I had rather go up the ladder to life, 
 than down the hiU to death. 
 
 Then said Mercy, But the proverl) is. To go down the hill 
 Which is hardest, ^^ eas3% But James said, (for that was his 
 up hm or down hiU.' ^ame,) The day is coming when, in my 
 opinion, going down hiU will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a 
 good boy, said his Master, thou hast given her a right 
 answer. Then Mercy smiled; b\it the little boy did 
 blush.
 
 THE PILGKIM's PROGRESS. 217 
 
 Chris. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a little 
 to sweeten your moutlis, while you sit here ^hey refresh them- 
 to rest your legs ? For I have here a jjiece ^*'^^^- 
 
 of pomegranate, which Mr Interpreter put in my hand, just 
 when I came out of his doors. He gave me also a piece of 
 a honeycomb, and a little bottle of spirits. I thought he 
 gave you something, said Mercy, because he called you aside. 
 Yes ; so he did, said the other. But, said Christiana, it 
 shall stiU be, as I said it should, when at first we came from 
 home, thou shalt be a sharer in all the good that I have, be- 
 cause thou so willingly didst become my companion. Then 
 she gave to them, and they did eat, both ]\Iercy and the 
 Ijoys. And, said Christiana to Mr Great-heart, Sir, wiU you 
 do as we? But he answered, You are going on pilgrimage, 
 and presently I shall return. Much good may what you 
 have do to you. At home I eat the same every day. Now, 
 when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little 
 longer, their guide said to them, The day wears away, if you 
 think good, let us prepare to be going. So they got up to 
 go, and the little boys went before. But Christiana forgot 
 to take her bottle of spirits with her; so she sent her little 
 boy back to fetch it. Then said Mercy,^ I Christiana for- 
 think this is a losing place. Here Chris- gets her bottle of 
 
 . spirits 
 
 tian 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 shoidd remember ; and this is 
 the very cause why, often at the resting-places, some pil- 
 grims, in some things, come off losers. 
 Pilgrims should watch, and remember what 
 they have already received under their greatest enjoyments, 
 but for want of doing so, ofttimes their rejoicing ends in tears, 
 and their sunshine in a cloud. Witness the First Part 
 story of Christian at this place. PP- ^^^ 
 
 When they were come to the place where Mistrust and 
 Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear
 
 218 SHE PILGEIJi's PROGEESS. 
 
 of the liong, they perceived as it were a stage, and before it, 
 toTvards the road, a broad plate, with a copy of verses -written 
 thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that 
 stage in that place, rendered. The verses were these : — 
 
 " Let him who sees this stage take heed 
 Unto his heart and tongue ; 
 Lost if he do not, here he speed. 
 As some have long agone." 
 
 The words nnderneath the verses were, "This stage was 
 built to punish such upon, who, through Timorousness or 
 Mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pUgrimage; also, 
 on this stage, both ISIistrust and Timorous were burned 
 through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to 
 hinder Christian in his journey." 
 
 Then said INIercy, 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," (Ps. cxx. 3, 4.) 
 
 So they went on, tUl they came within sight of the lions. 
 
 Now !Mr Great-heart was a strong man, so 
 First Part. p. 49. ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^,^.^^ ^j ^ ^^^, ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 they were come up to the place where the lions were, the 
 
 boys that went before were glad to cringe behind, for 
 
 An emblem of ^^^J ""'ere afraid of the lions; so they 
 
 Sarelyfwhen the°re stepped back, and went behind. At this 
 
 is no danger, but \}xq]x guide Smiled, and said, How now, my 
 sbnnk when troubles o ' ' , 
 
 come. 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 tney went up, Mr Great-heart drew his sword, 
 
 with intent to make a way for the pilgrims, in spite of the 
 
 lions. Then there appeared one that, it seems, had taken 
 
 upon him to back the lions ; and he said to the Pilgrims' 
 
 crtxide. What is the cause of your coming 
 Of Grim, the ° , ' ,^ ,, <•.•.. 
 
 Giant, and of hia hither? Now the name of that man was 
 backing the Uons. ^^^^ ^^ Bloody-man, because of his slaying 
 
 of pilgi-ims, and he was of the race of the giants.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 219 
 
 Great-heart. Tlien said the Pilgrims' guide, These -women 
 and children are going on pilgrimage; and tliis is the way 
 they must go, and go it they shall, in spite of thee and the 
 lions. 
 
 Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. 
 I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will 
 back the lions. 
 
 Now, to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, 
 and of the grim carriage of him that did back them, this way 
 had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost all grown 
 over with grass. 
 
 Cliris. Then said Christiana, Though the highways have 
 been unocciipied heretofore, and though the travellers have 
 been made in time past to walk through by-paths, it must 
 iiot be so now I am risen. Now, "I am risen a mother in 
 Israel," (Judges v. 6, 7.) 
 
 Grim. Then he swore by the lions, but it should; and 
 therefore bid them turn aside, for they shoidd not have pas- 
 sage there. 
 
 Great-heart. But their guide made first his approach unto 
 Grim, and laid so heavily at him with his sword, that he 
 forced him to a retreat. 
 
 Grim. Then said he that attempted to back the lions. Will 
 you slay me upon mine own ground ? 
 
 Great-heart. It is the King's highway that we are in, and 
 in his way it is that thou hast placed thy ^ ^^^^^ betwixt 
 
 lions ; but these women and these children. Grim aud Oreat- 
 
 . . heart. 
 
 though weak, shall hold on their way in 
 
 Binte of thy lions. And with that he gave him again a down- 
 right blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this 
 blow he also broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off 
 an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, that his voice 
 
 friahted the women, and yet they were glad 
 
 ° , . ,. -,. ;■, n The victory. 
 
 to see mm 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
 
 220 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 now, and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from 
 
 They pass by the *^6 lions." They therefore went on, but 
 hons. j-Y^Q 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 then they were within sight of the Porter's Lodge, 
 and they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more 
 haste after this to go thither, becaiise it is dangerous travel- 
 
 They come to the ling there in the night. So when they were 
 Porter's lodge. 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 behuid him,) he said unto him. 
 How now, Mr Great-heart, what is your business here so late 
 to-night ? I have brought, said he, some pilgrims hitlier, 
 where, by my Lord's commandment, they must lodge ; I had 
 been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the 
 giant that did use to back the Hous ; but I, after a long and 
 tcdiovis combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought 
 the pilgrims hither in safety. 
 
 Porter. Will you not go in, and stay till morning ? 
 
 Great-heart at- Great-heart. No, I will return to my 
 
 tempts to go back. -^^^^ to-night. 
 
 Cliris. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing you shoiild 
 
 ., . . leave us in our pilgrimage, you have been 
 The pilgrims im- i o o ' j 
 
 piore his company so faithful and SO loving to us, you have 
 fought so stoutly for us, you have been so 
 hearty in counselling of us, that I shall never forget your 
 favour towards us. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, that we might have thy com- 
 pany to our journey's end ! How can such poor women as 
 we hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, with- 
 out a friend and defender ? 
 
 James. Then said James, the youngest of the boys, Pray, 
 
 I
 
 THE pilgrim's progresb. 221 
 
 Sir, le persuaded to go with us, and helj) us, because we are 
 so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. 
 
 Great-heart. I am at my Lord's commandment; if he shall 
 allot me to be your guide quite through, I wUl willingly wait 
 upon you. But here you failed at first ; for, jjelp lost for waut 
 when he bid me Cv:)me thus far with you, of asking for. 
 then you shoidd have begged me of him to have gone quite 
 through with you, and he wotdd have granted your 
 request. However, at present, I must withdraw; and 
 £0, good Christiana, Mercy, and my brave children. 
 Adieu. 
 
 Then the Porter, INIr "Watchful, asked Christiana of her 
 
 country, and of her kindred; and she said, 
 
 T \ ^1 n-. , T^ \ V- T First Part. p. 46. 
 
 I came from the City of Destruction ; i am 
 
 a widow woman, and my husband is dead; his name Avas 
 
 Christian, the Pilgrim. How ! said the ciiristiana makes 
 
 Porter, was he youi- husband? Yes, said Sn'^heTelis'ltto 
 
 she, and these are his children; and this, ^ damsel. 
 
 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 Christian, and ^ in 
 
 ' ' Joy at the noise 
 
 her chUdi-en, are come hither on pUorimage. of tiiu riisrims com- 
 
 loo j^g_ 
 
 She went in, therefore, and told it. Bat O 
 
 what noise for gladness was there within, when the damsel 
 
 did but drop that word out of her mouth ! 
 
 So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christiana 
 
 stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said 
 
 unto her, Come in, Christiana, come in, thou wife of that 
 
 good man ; come in, thou blessed woman ; come in, with all 
 
 that are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her 
 
 that were her children and her companions. Now when they 
 
 were gone in, they were had into a very rn, ■ •.• < i 
 
 large room, where they were bidden to sit kindled at Uie sight 
 
 ,..of one another. 
 down; bo tuey sat down, and the chief 
 
 of the house was called to see and welcome the guests.
 
 222 THTR PILGRIM S PPtOGTlESS. 
 
 Tlieu they came iu, and understanding wlio they wore, 
 did salute each other with a kiss, and said, Welcome, 
 ye vessels of the grace of God; welcome to 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, there- 
 fore they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to 
 rest. Nay, said those of the famUy, refresh yourselves first 
 with a morsel of meat ; for they had prepared for them a 
 lamb, with the accustomed sauce belonging thereto, (Ex. xii. 
 21-2S; John i. 29;) for the Porter had heard before of their 
 coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had 
 supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired 
 they might go to rest. But let us, said 
 • ■ , . . Qjj^j-ig^iana, 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 lay all in a 
 
 Christ's bosom is room. When they were at rest, Christi^ana 
 
 for all pilgrims, ^nd Mercy entered into discourse about 
 things that were convenient. 
 
 Cltris. Little did I think once, that when my husband 
 went on pilgrimage, I should ever have followed. 
 
 Mercy. And you as little thought of lying in his bed, and 
 in his chamber to rest, as you do now. 
 
 Chris. And much less did I ever think of seeing his face 
 v.ith comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with 
 him, and yet now I believe I shall. 
 
 Mercy. Hark ! Don't you hear a noise ? 
 
 Ch7-is. Yes; it is, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy 
 that we are here. 
 
 Mercy. Wonderful! music in the house, music iu the 
 heart, and music also in heaven, for joy 
 that we are here ! 
 
 Thus they talked awhile, and then betook themselves to 
 sleep. So, in the morning, when these were awake, Chris- 
 tiana said to Mercy : —
 
 THE MLGRIM's PROGRESfl. 223 
 
 Chrin. What was tlie matter that you did laugh ia yom 
 
 sleep to-night? I suppose you was in a Mercy did laugh 
 . iu her sleep. 
 
 dream, 
 
 llercy. So I was, and a sweet dream it was; but are you 
 sure T laughed? 
 
 Chris. Yes; you laughed heartily; but, prithee, Mercy, 
 teU me thy dream. 
 
 Mercy. I was a-dreaming that I sat all alone in a solitary 
 
 place, and was bemoaning of the hardness of 
 
 '■ ' ° Mercy s dream. 
 
 my heart. Now, I had not sat there long, 
 
 but methought many were gathered about me, to see me, 
 and to hear what it was that I said. So they hearkened, and 
 I went on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, 
 some of them laughed at me, some called me fool, and some 
 began to thrust me about. With that, me- -what her dream 
 thought I looked up, and saw one coming ^^'^^• 
 
 wth wings towards me. So he came directly to me, and 
 said, Mercy, what aileth thee? Now, when he had heard 
 me make my complaint, he said, "Peace be to thee." He 
 also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me iu 
 silver and gold. He put a chain about my neck, and par- 
 rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head, 
 (Ezek. xvi. 8-11.) Then he took me by the hand, and said, 
 ISIercy, come after me. So he went up, and I followed, till 
 %ve came at a golden gate. Then he knocked; and when 
 they within had opened, the man went in, and T followed 
 him lip to a throne, upon which one sat, and he said to me. 
 Welcome, daughter. The place looked bright and twinkling, 
 like the stars, or rather like the sun; and I thought that I 
 saw your husband there. So I awoke from my dream. But 
 did I laugh ? 
 
 Chris. Laugh ! ay, and weU you might, to see yourself so 
 well. For you must give me leave to tcU you, that I believe 
 it was a good dream ; and that, as you have begun to find the 
 first part true, so you shall find the second at last. " God 
 Bpeaketh once, yea, twice, yd man perceireth it not. In a 
 dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upou
 
 224 THE pilgrim's pkogeess. 
 
 men, in slumberings upon the bed," (Job xxxiii. 14, 15.) 
 We need not, when a-bed, lie awake to talk with God. He 
 can visit lis Avhile we sleep, and cause us then to hear his 
 voice. Our heart ofttimes wakes when we sleep; and God 
 can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by signs 
 and similitudes, as well as if one was awake. 
 
 Mercy. Well, I am glad of my dream; for I hope, ere 
 Mercy glad of her ^oiig> ^o see it fulfilled, to the making me 
 dream. laiirrh ac^aiu. 
 
 Chris. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know 
 what we must do. 
 
 Mercy. Pray, if they invite us to stay awhile, let us will- 
 ingly accej)t of the proffer. I am the willinger to stay awhile 
 here, to grow better acquainted with these maids. Methinks 
 Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober 
 countenances. 
 
 Chris. We shall see what they will do. So when they 
 were uj) and ready, they came doA^ai, and they asked om 
 another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not. 
 
 Mercy. Very good, said Mercy; it was one of the best 
 night's lodgings that ever I had in my life. 
 
 Then said Pnidence and Piety, If you wiU be persuaded to 
 They stay here ^^^7 l^^re awhile, you shall have what the 
 some time. j^o^gg ^yi afford. 
 
 Cliar. 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 Cliristiana had 
 
 rruuence desires 
 
 to catecliise Chris- broiight up her chUdren, she asked leave of 
 
 her to catechise them. So she gave her free 
 
 consent. Then she began at the youngest, whose name was 
 
 James. 
 
 Prudence. And she said. Come, James, 
 James catechised. , ,, , ,, , ■, ,-, „ 
 
 canst thou tell me who made tnee ? 
 
 James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy 
 
 Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell me who saves thee?
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. '225 
 
 James. God tlie Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father 
 save thee ? 
 
 James. By his grace. 
 
 Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? 
 
 James. By his righteousness, death, and blood, and life. 
 
 Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? 
 
 James. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his 
 preservation. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be com- 
 mended for thus bringing up your children. I suppose 
 I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest 
 of them can answer them so well. I Avill therefore now 
 apply myself to the next youngest. 
 
 Prud. Then she said. Come, Joseph, (for his name 
 was Joseph,) will you let me catechise 
 
 you 
 
 •> 
 
 Joseph catecliised. 
 
 Joseph. "With aU my heart. 
 
 Prud. What is man ? 
 
 Joseph. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as my 
 brother said. 
 
 Prud. What is supposed by this word " saved ?" 
 
 Joseph. That man, by sin, has brought himself into a slate 
 of captivity and misery. 
 
 Prud. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity ? 
 
 Joseph. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant, that 
 none can pull us out of its clutches, but God; and that God is 
 so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this 
 miserable state. 
 
 Prud. What is God's design in saving of poor men? 
 
 Joseph. The glorifying of his name, of his grace and jus- 
 tice, &c., and the everlasting happiness of his creature. 
 
 Prud. AVho are they that must be saved ? 
 
 Joseph. Those that accept of his salvation. 
 
 Prud. Good boy, Joseph ; thy mother has taught thee well, 
 and thou hast hearkened to what she hath said unto taee. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the eldest but one,
 
 226 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 Prud, Come, Samuel, are you willing that I shouid cate- 
 
 cWse you also ? 
 Samuel catechised. _, , ^_ . ,, .» , 
 
 Samuel. Yes, forsooth, ii you please. 
 
 Prud. What is heaven ? 
 
 Sam. A place and sta.te most blessed, becaiise God d\yell- 
 eth there. 
 
 Prud. What is hell? 
 
 Sam. A place and state most woeful, because it is the 
 dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. 
 
 Prud. Why wouldest thou go to heaven? 
 
 Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without weari- 
 ness; that I may see Christ, and love him everlastingly; 
 that I may have that f idness of the Holy Spirit .in me that I 
 can by no means here enjoy. 
 
 Prud. A very good boy also, and one that has learned well. 
 
 Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose name was 
 Matthew Matthew ; and she said to him, Come, Mat- 
 
 catechised, thew, shall I also catechise you? 
 
 Mattheio. With a very good v.-ill. 
 
 Prud. I ask, then, if there was ever anything that had a 
 being antecedent to, or before God? 
 
 Matt. No; for God is eternal; nor is there anything ex- 
 cepting himself, that had a being until the beginning of the 
 first day. "For in six days the Lord made heaven and 
 earth, the sea, and all that in them is." 
 
 Prud. What do you think of the Bible ? 
 
 Matt. It is the holy Word of God. 
 
 Prud. Is there nothing written therein but whai you 
 understand ? 
 
 Matt. Yes ; a great deal. 
 
 Prud. What do you do when you meet with such places 
 therein that you do not understand ? 
 
 Matt. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he 
 will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be 
 for my good. 
 
 Prud. How believe you as touching the resiu'rection of 
 the dead ?
 
 THE pilgeim's puogeesb. 227 
 
 Matt. I believe tliey sliall rise, the same that was buried : 
 the same in nature, though not in corruption. And T be- 
 lieve 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. t, ■, . 
 
 •' ' _ _ , •' Prudence s conolu- 
 
 You must also diligently give ear to what sion upon the eate- 
 
 , ^ .. , „\ ^° ,, . chisiDgoftheboys. 
 good talk you shall hear irom others ; for, 
 
 for your sakes do they speak good things. Observe, also, 
 
 and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth 
 
 do teach you ; but especially be much in the meditation of 
 
 that Book that was the cause of your father's becoming a 
 
 pilgrim. I, for my part, my children, will teach you what I 
 
 can whUe you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me 
 
 (;iuestions that tend to godly edifying. 
 
 Now, by that these Pilgrims had been at this place a 
 week, Mercy had a visitor that pretended Mercy has a sweet- 
 Bome good-will unto her, and his name heaxt. 
 
 was Mr Brisk, a man of some breeding, and that pre- 
 tended 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 Jiothing to do for 
 herself, she would be making of hose and 
 garments for others, and would bestow them upon them that 
 had need. And Mr Brisk, 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 warrazit 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 concern- ,, . . , 
 
 '■ , Mercy inqiureg of 
 
 ins him, for they did know him better than the ma]ds concere- 
 
 ° '' ing Mr Brisk, 
 
 ehe. So they told her, that he was a very busy 
 
 young man, and one that pretended to religion ; but was, aa 
 
 they feared, a stranger to the power of that which waa good-
 
 228 THE pilgrim's progeess. 
 
 Nay tlien, said Mercy, I will look no more on him; for 1 
 purpose never to have a clog to my soul. 
 
 Prudence then replied, that there needed no great matter 
 of discouragement to be given to him, her continuing so as 
 she had begun to do for the poor, would quickly cool his 
 courage. 
 
 So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old work, 
 a-making of things for the poor. Then said he. What! 
 Talk betwixt Mercy always at it? Yes, said she, either for 
 
 and ]NIr Brisk. myseK or for others. And what canst thou 
 earn a-day? quoth he. I do these things, said she, "that I 
 may be rich in good works, laying up in store a good founda- 
 tion against the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal 
 life," (1 Tim. vi. 17-19.) Why, prithee, what dost thou with 
 them? Clothe the naked, said she. With that his counte- 
 
 He forsakes her, ^ance fell. So he forbore to come at her 
 and why. acain ; and when he was asked the reason 
 wliy, he said, that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled 
 with ill conditions. 
 
 When he had left her. Prudence said. Did I not tell thee, 
 
 that Mr Brisk would soon forsake thee? yea, 
 Mercy in the prac- . _. c j.i, t 
 
 tice of mercy reject- be will raise up an ill report 01 tnee ; tor, 
 ed; while Mercy in ,.,-,, -,• ■• ■ . j. t- 
 
 the name of mercy notwithstandmg his pretence to religion, 
 
 xs liked. ^^^ j^.^ seeming love to Mercy, yet Mercy 
 
 and he are of tempers so diilerent, that I believe they wiU 
 never come together. 
 
 Mercy. I might have had husbands afore now, though I 
 spake not of it to any ; but they were such as did not hke 
 my conditions, though never did any of them find fault with 
 my person. So they and I could not agree. 
 
 Prud. Mercy in our days is little set by, any further than 
 as to its name; the practice, which is set forth by thy condi- 
 tions, there are but few that can abide. 
 
 Mercy. Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will 
 
 die a maid, or my conditions shall be to 
 
 ercy s reso u ion. ^^ _^ ^ husband ; for I cannot change my 
 
 nature ; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that T
 
 THE PILGRIM'-S PROGRESS. 229 
 
 purpose nover to admit of as long as I live. I liad a sister 
 Barned Bountiful, that was married to one ^^^ Mercy's sis- 
 of these churls; but he and she could never ter^was served by her 
 agree ; but because my sister was resolved to 
 do as she had begun, that is, to shew kindness to the poor, 
 therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and 
 then turned her out of his doors. 
 
 Prud. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you. 
 
 Mercy. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he the 
 world is now full ; bat I am for none of them all. 
 
 Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, feU sick, and 
 
 his sickness was sore upon him, for he was 
 
 ^ Matthew f aUa sick. 
 
 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 ai)proved physician. So Christiana desired it, and they 
 
 sent for him, and lie came. When he was entered the room, 
 
 and had a little observed the boy, he con- Gripes of 
 
 eluded that he was sick of the gripes. Then conscience. 
 
 he said to his mother, What diet has Matthew of late fed 
 
 upon ? Diet ! said Christiana, nothing but that which is 
 
 wholesome. The physician answered, This The Physician's 
 
 boy has been tampering with somethiug that judgment. 
 
 lies in his maw undigested, and that will not away Avithout 
 
 means. And I tell yoa, he must be purged, or else he will 
 
 die. 
 
 Savi. Then said Samuel, Mother, mother, what was that 
 
 which my brother did gather up and eat, so Samuel puts liis 
 
 r II i J.1 4. •„ rnotlier in mind of 
 
 soon as we were come from the gate that is t^^ f^uit his brother 
 
 at the head of this way? You know that 'l^^'^a'- 
 
 there was an orchard on the left hand, on the other side of 
 
 the wall, and some of the trees himg over the wall, and my 
 
 brother did plash and did eat. 
 
 Chris. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof, 
 and did eat; naughty boy as he was, I did chide him, and 
 yet he would eat thereof. 
 
 Skill. I knew he had eaten something that was not whole-
 
 230 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 ecme food; and that food, to wit, tliat fruit, is even tlie most 
 hurtful of all. It is the fruit of Beelzebitb's orchard. I do 
 marvel that none did warn you of it ; many have died 
 thereof. 
 
 Chris. Then Christiana began to cry; and she said, 
 naughty boy! and careless mother ! What shall I do for 
 my son? 
 
 Skill. Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may do 
 well again, but he must purge and vomit. 
 
 Chris. Pray, Sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, 
 whatever it costs. 
 
 Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. So he made him 
 
 Potion prepaied. !" 1""°^' ^^* ^* ^^' ^^'^ ^^^^' ^* ^^ ^^^^> 
 it was made of the blood of a goat, the ashes 
 
 of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, &c., (Heb. 
 
 X. 1-4.) When ]VIi- SkUl had seen that that purge was too 
 
 ^, ^ ^. ^ , weak, he made him one to the purpose ; it 
 
 The Latm I borrow. x if > 
 
 was made ex carne et sanguine Cliristi, 
 {John vi. 54-57 ; Heb. ix. 14.) (You know physicians give 
 strange medicines to their patients.) And it was made up 
 into ijUIs, with a iiromise or two, and a proportionable quan- 
 tity of salt, (Mark ix. 49.) Now he was to take them three 
 at a time fasting, in half a quarter of a pint of the tears of 
 repentance. When this potion was prepared, and brought 
 The boy loath to 'to the boy, he was loath to take it, though 
 take the physk:. ^^^^ ^^^-^^-^ ^-^^ ^^^^^ as if he should be 
 
 pulled in pieces. Come, come, said the physician, you must 
 take it. It goes against my stomach, said the boy, (Zech. 
 -icii. 10.) I must have you take it, said his mother. I shall 
 vomit it up again, said the boy. Pray, Sir, said Christiana, 
 fo Mr Skill, how does it taste? It has no ill taste, said the 
 doctor; and with that she touched one of the piUs with the 
 
 . The mother tastes *^P «^ ^^^' ^-^^S^e. Oh, Matthew, Said she, 
 it, and persuades this potion is sweeter than honey. If thou 
 lovest thy mother, if thou lovest thy bro- 
 kers, if thoxi lovest Mercy, if thou lovest thy life, take it. 
 So with much ado, after a short prayer for the blessing of
 
 THE pilgrim's PROaEESS. 231 
 
 God upon it, lie took it, and it wrouglit kiudly witk liim. 
 It caused Mm to purge, it caused liim to sleep and rest 
 quietly; it put liim into a fine teat and breathing sweat, and 
 did quite rid liim of his gripes. So in little time lie got up, 
 and walked about with a staff, and would Awoi-aof Godiu 
 go from room to room, and talk with Pru- 
 dence, Piety, and Charity, of his distemper, and how he was 
 healed. 
 
 So when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr Skill, 
 sayiag. 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, (Heb. xiii. 11-16.) 
 
 Chris. But, Sir, said she, what is this pill good for else ? 
 
 SUll. It is an universal pill; it is good against aU the 
 diseases that Pilgrims are incident to ; and when it is well 
 prepared, it wUl keep good, time out of This pill au 
 
 . miiversal remedy. 
 
 mind. 
 
 Chris. Pray, Su-, make me up tv.elve 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, (John vi. 50.) But, good Christiana, 
 thou must give these pills no other way but jq a glass of the 
 as I have prescribed; for, if you do, they tears of repentance, 
 will do no good. So he gave unto Christiana physic for 
 herself, and her boys, and for Mercy ; and bid Matthew taks 
 heed how he eat any more green plums, and kissed them, 
 and went his way. 
 
 It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that 
 if at any time they would, they should ask her some ques- 
 tions that might be profitable, and she would say something 
 to them. 
 
 Mutt. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, Why, 
 for the most part, physic should be bitter to or b • ' 
 our palates ?
 
 232 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 Of the clouds. 
 
 Prud. To sliow how imweloome the Word of God, and 
 the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. 
 
 Of the effects of -3/a«. Why does physic, if it does good, 
 
 physic. purge, and cause that we vomit ? 
 
 Prud. To show that the Word, when it works effectually, 
 cleanseth the heart and mind. For look, what the one doth 
 to the body, the other doth to the soul. 
 
 Matt. What should we learn by seeing the flame of 
 Of fire and of <^^^^ ^1'® g^ upwards? and by seeing the 
 thsBun. 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 send- 
 ing his heat, beams, and sweet influences downwards, we are 
 taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reacheth 
 down with his grace and love to us below. 
 
 Matt. Where have the clouds their water? 
 Prud. Out of the sea. 
 Matt. What may we learn from that ? 
 Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine irow 
 God. 
 
 Matt. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth ? 
 Prud. To shew that ministers shoidd give out what they 
 know of God to the world. 
 
 Matt. Why is the rambow caused by the 
 sun ? 
 
 Prud. To shew that the covenant of God's grace is con- 
 firmed to us in Christ. 
 
 Matt. Why do the springs come from the sea to us, 
 through the earth ? 
 
 Prud. To shew that the grace of God comes to us through 
 the body of Christ. 
 
 Matt. Why do some of the springs rise 
 out of the tops of high hills ? 
 Prud. To shew that the spirit of grace shall spring up in 
 some that are great anc^ mighty, as well S3 in many that are 
 poor and low. 
 
 Of the rainbow. 
 
 Of the springs.
 
 TBE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 233 
 
 3FatL Why doth the fire fasten upon the candlewick? 
 
 Prud. To shew that unless grace doth Of the candle, 
 kindle upon the heart there will be no true light of life in 
 us. 
 
 Matt. Why is the wick and tallow, and all, spent to 
 maintain the light of the candle ? 
 
 Prud. To shew that body and soul, and all, should be at 
 the service of, and spend themselves to maintain, in good 
 condition, that grace of God that is in us. 
 
 Matt. Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast with 
 her bill ? Of ^^^ pelican. 
 
 Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blood, and 
 
 thereby to shew that Christ the blessed so loveth his young, 
 
 his people, as to save them from death by his blood. 
 
 Matt. What may one learn by hearing 
 
 •' ./ o Of the cock. 
 
 the cock crow ? 
 
 Prud. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's repent- 
 ance. The cock's crowing shews also that day is coming on ; 
 let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that 
 last and terrible day of judgment. 
 
 Now, about this time, their month was out ; wherefore 
 
 they signified to those of the house that it was convenient 
 
 for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his 
 
 mother, It is convenient that you forget not to send to the 
 
 house of Mr Interpreter, to pray him to ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 erant that Mr Great-heart shoiild be sent sometimes caU the 
 ^ strong to prayers. 
 
 unto us, that he may be our conductor the 
 
 rest of our way. Good boy, said she, I had almost forgot. 
 So she drew up a petition, and prayed Mr Watchful, the 
 Porter, to send it by some fit man, to her good friend Mr 
 Interpreter ; who, when it was come, and he had seen the 
 contents of the jjctition, said to the messenger. Go tell them 
 that I will send him. 
 
 When the famUy, where Christiana was, saw that they 
 had a purpose to go forward, they called the They provide to be 
 whole house together, to give thanks to their eo"e on their way. 
 King for sending of them such profitable guests as these.
 
 234 THE pilgpjm's peogeess. 
 
 Wliiclx done, tliey said to Christiana, And shall we not shew 
 
 thee something, according as our custom is to do to jjilgrims, 
 
 on which thou mayest meditate when thou art upon the 
 
 way? So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy, 
 
 into the closet, and shewed them one of the 
 
 Eves apple. g^ppjgg ^j^^t Eve did eat of, and that she also 
 
 did give to her husband, and that for the eating of which 
 
 A sight of sin is ^^^7 ^^^^ "'^^^^ turned out of Paradise, and 
 
 aSaazing. asked her what she thought that Avas? 
 
 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 wondered, (Gen. iii. G; Rom. 
 
 vii. 24.) 
 
 Then they had her to a place, and shewed her Jacob's ladder. 
 
 Now at that time there were some angels 
 
 Jacob's ladder. j^g(,gnding upon it. So Christiana looked, 
 
 and looked, to see the angels go up ; and so did the rest of 
 
 the company. Then they were going into another place, to 
 
 shew them something else ; but James said to his mother, 
 
 A sight of Clirist Pi"''^y ^icl tlie™ s*^y ^^^^ ^ ^^**^® longer, for 
 is taking. ^i^jg jg ^ curious sight. So they turned 
 
 again, and stood feeding their eyes with so pleasant a pros- 
 pect, (Gen. xxviii. 12 j John i. 51.) After this, they had 
 them into a place where did hang up a 
 Golden anchor. ^^^^^^^ anchor, so they bid Christiana take 
 
 it down ; for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it is 
 of absolxite necessity that you shoidd, that you may lay hold 
 of that within the veil, and stand stedfast, in case you should 
 meet with turbulent weather; so they were glad thereof, 
 {Heb. vi. 19.) Then they took them, and had them to the 
 Of Abraham offer- J^ount iipon which Abraham our father had 
 iug up Isaac. offered up Isaac his son, and shewed them 
 the altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife, for they remain 
 to be seen to this very day, (Gen. xxii. 9.) 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 shewed
 
 THE pilgbjm's peogeess. 235 
 
 them all these things, Prudence took them into the dining- 
 room, where stood a pair of excellent virgi- Prudence's 
 nals ; so she played npon them, and turned virgmals. 
 what she had shewed them into this excellent song, saying— 
 
 " Eve's apple we have shewed you, 
 
 Of that be you aware ; 
 You have seen Jacob's ladder, too, 
 
 Upon which angels are. 
 Au anchor you receivfeJ have, 
 
 But let not these suffice, 
 Until, with Abr'am, you have gave 
 
 Your best a sacrifice." 
 
 Now, about this time, one knocked at the door; so the 
 Porter opened, and behold Mr Great-heart Mr Great-heart 
 was there ; but when he was come in, what *'°™® again, 
 joy was there ! For it came now fresh again into their 
 minds, how but a while ago he had slain old Grim Bloody- 
 man the giant, and had delivered them from the lions. 
 
 Then said Mr Great-heart to Christiana, and to Mercy, 
 l^.Iy Lord hath sent each of you a bottle of „ . . , , 
 
 *' •' He nrnigs a token 
 
 wine, and also some parched corn, together from his Lord with 
 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 at the gate, Christiana asked the Porter if any of late 
 went by? He said. No; only one some time since, who also 
 told me, that of late there had been a great 
 robbery committed on the King's highway, 
 as you go; but, he said, the thieves are taken, and will 
 shortly be tried for their lives. Then Christiana and Mercy 
 were afraid; but Matthew said. Mother, fear nothing, as 
 long as Mr Great heart is to go with us, and to be our con- 
 ductor. 
 
 Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I „, . ,. 
 
 Chnstiana takes 
 am much obliged to you for all the kmd- her leave of the 
 
 nesses that you have shewed me since I came 
 
 hither ; and also for that you have been so loving and kind to
 
 236 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 my diilclren; I know not liow to gratify yoiir kindness. 
 Wherefore, pray, as a token of my respects to you, accept 
 of tHs small mite; so slie put a gold angel in Ms Laud, and 
 The Pqrter'3 ^^ made her a low obeisance, and said. Let 
 blessing. ^j^y 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 aud 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. 
 
 N'ow T saw in my dream, that they went forward tmtil 
 they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety, be- 
 thinking herself, cried out, Alas ! I have forgot what I in- 
 tended to bestow upon Christiana and her companions ; I will 
 go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While 
 she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a 
 little way off, on the right hand, a most curious, melodious 
 note, with words much like these — 
 
 "Through all my life thy favour is 
 So frankly shew'd to me, 
 Tliat in thy bouse for evermore 
 My dwelling-place shall be." 
 
 And, listening stiU, she thought she heard another answer 
 it, saying — 
 
 " For why? The Lord our God is good, 
 His mercy is for ever sure. 
 His truth at all times firmly stood, 
 And shall from age to age endure." 
 
 So Chi-istiana asked Prudence what it was that made those 
 curious notes? They are, said she, our country birds; they 
 sing these notes but seldom, except it be at the spring, when 
 the flowers appear, aud the sun shines warm, and then you 
 may hear them all day long, {Cant. ii. 11, 12.) I often, 
 said she, go out to hear them ; we also ofttimes keep them 
 tame in our house. They are very fine comjjany for ns when 
 we are melancholy ; also they make the woods, aud groves, 
 and solitary places, places desiroiis to be in.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 237 
 
 By this time Piety was come again ; so she said to Chris- 
 tiana, Look here, I have brought thee a p.^^^ bestoweth 
 scheme of all those things that thou hast something on them 
 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 VaUey of 
 Humiliation. It was a steei^ hiU, and the j,j_j,gj p^^.^ ^ gg 
 way was slippery ; but they were very care- 
 ful, so they got down pretty well. When they were do^vii 
 in the valley. Piety said to Christiana, This is the place 
 Aviiere Christian yoiir husband met with the foul fiend Apol- 
 lyon, and where they had that dreadful fight that they had; 
 I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good 
 courage ; as long as you have here Mr Great-heart to be your 
 guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the better. So 
 when these two had committed the Pilgrims unto the con- 
 duct of their guide, he went forward, and they went 
 after. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr Great-heart, We need not to 
 be so afraid of this valley, for here is no- jjr Great-heart au 
 
 thine to hurt us, unless we procure it to the Valley of Humi- 
 
 " ' liation. 
 
 ourselves. It is true, Christian did here 
 
 meet with ApoUyon, with whom he also had a sore combat j 
 
 but that fray was the fruit of those slips ^. , „ _, 
 
 ■, • • 1 n T -IT r ^"^st Part, p. 57. 
 
 that he got in his going down the hm ; tor 
 
 they that get slips there, must look for combats here. And 
 
 hence it is that this vaUey has got so hard a name; for the 
 
 common people, when they hear that some frightful thing 
 
 has befallen such a one in such a place, are of an opinion, 
 
 that that place is haimtcd with some foul fiend or evil spirit ; 
 
 when, alas ! it is for the fruit of their doing, that such things 
 
 do befall them there. 
 
 This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as _, , 
 
 •^ •' The reason why 
 
 fruitful a place as any the crow flies over ; Christian was bo be- 
 
 and I am persuaded, if we could hit upon 
 
 it, we might find somewhere hereabouts, something that
 
 ^238 THE pilgkim's progress. 
 
 might give us an .lecoimt why Chi-istian Avas so hardly beset 
 in this place. 
 
 Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder stands a pillar, 
 A pillar with an ^^^ ^^ looks as if something -was ■mri'cten 
 inscription ou it. thereon; let us go and see what it is. So 
 they went, and found there written, "Let Christian's slips, 
 before he came hither, and the battles that he met with in 
 this place, be a warning to those that come after. " Lo, said 
 their guide, did not I tell you that there was something here- 
 abouts that would give intimation of the reason why Chris- 
 tian was so hard beset in this place ? Then turning himself 
 to Christiana, he said, No disparagement to Christian, more 
 than to many others, whose hap and lot his was; for it is 
 easier going up than down this hill, and that can be said but 
 of few hiUs in all these parts of the world. But we will 
 leave the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory 
 over his enemy; let Him grant that dwelleth above, that we 
 fare no worse, when we come to be tried, than he. 
 
 But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It 
 Tliis valley a brave ^^ *^^ ^^^^ ^^^ most useful piece of ground 
 place. Jq ^11 tiiose parts. It is fat ground, and, as 
 
 you see, consistcth much in meadows ; and if a man was to 
 come here in the summer-time, as we do now, if he knew 
 not anything before thereof, and if he also delighted himself 
 in the sight of his eyes, he might see that that would be 
 delightful to him. Behold how green this vaUey is, also 
 how beautified with lilies, (Cant. ii. 1.) I have also known 
 many labouring men that have got good estates in this Valley 
 of Humiliation, ("for God resisteth the proud, but gives 
 
 -, ... . ,, more, more grace unto the humble," James 
 Men thnve m the ' ° ' 
 
 Valley of Humiiia- iv. 6; 1 Peter V. 5:) for indeed it is a very 
 fruitful soU, and doth bring forth by hand- 
 fuls. 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. 
 
 Xow, as they were going along, and talking, they espied
 
 The shepherQ boy in the Valley of Humiliation. -/'aye 239.
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 239 
 
 a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy -was in very mean 
 clothes, but of a very fresh and well-favoured countenance ; 
 and as he sat by himself, he sang. Hark, said Mr Great- 
 heart, to -what the shepherd's boy 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. (Phil. iv. 12, 13.) 
 
 I am content witli what I have, 
 
 Little be it, or much : 
 And, Lord, contentment still I crave, 
 
 Because thou savest such. 
 Fulness to such, a burden is, 
 
 That go on pilgrimage ; 
 Here little, and hereafter bliss. 
 
 Is best from age to age." (Heb. siii. 5.) 
 
 Then said the guide. Do you hear him ? I will dare to 
 eaj^, that this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of 
 that herb called heart's-ease in his bosom, than he that 
 is clad in silk and velvet; but we will proceed, in our 
 discourse. 
 
 In this Valley our Lord formerly had his country-house; 
 he loved much to be here; he loved also to ^^^^.^^^ ^^^^^ .^ 
 walk these meadows, for he found the air the flesh, had hia 
 
 Country-house in tlie 
 
 was pleasant. Besides, here a man shall be Valley of numiiia- 
 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 contem- 
 plation, as in other places he is apt to be. This is a valley 
 that nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgi-im's life. 
 And though Christian had the hard hap to meet here with 
 Apollyon, and to enter with him a brisk encounter, yet I 
 must tell you, that in former times men have met with 
 angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place 
 foimd the words of life, (Hos. xii. 4, 5.) 
 
 Did I say, our Lord had here in former days his country- 
 house, and that he loved here to walk? I will add, in
 
 240 THE filgeim's pkouress. 
 
 this place, and to tlie people that live, and trace these 
 grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid 
 them at certain seasons, for their maintenance by the way, 
 and for their further encouragement to go on in their pilgrim- 
 age, (Matt. xi. 29.) 
 
 Samuel. Now, as they went on, Samuel said to ]Mr Great- 
 heart, Sir, I perceive that in this valley my father and 
 Apollyon had their battle; but whereabout waa thefighb? 
 for I perceive this valley is large. 
 
 Great-heart. Your father had that battle with Apollyon 
 
 at a place yonder before us, in a narrow 
 
 Forgetful Greeu. ■ Ix ■, -r. ,.i! -i n a i 
 
 passage, just beyond Forgetful Green. And 
 
 indeed, that place is the most dangerous place in all these 
 
 parts. For if at any time the j)ilgrims meet with any brimt, 
 
 it is when they forget what favours they have received, and 
 
 how imworthy they are of them. This is the place also, 
 
 where others have been hard put to it; but more of the place 
 
 when we are come to it; for I persuade myself, that to 
 
 this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or 
 
 some monument to testify that such a battle there was 
 
 fought. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this 
 valley as I have been anywhere else in all our journey; the 
 
 Humility a sweet P^ace, methinks, suits with my spii-it. T 
 grace. \o\e to be in such places where there is no 
 
 rattling with coaches, nor rumbling with wheels; methinks, 
 here one may, Avithout much molestation, be thinking what he 
 is, whence he came, Avhat he has done, and to what the King 
 has called him ; here one may think, and break at heart, and 
 melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become like "the fish- 
 pools of Heshbon," (Cant, viL 4.) They that go rightly 
 through this A^alley of Baca, make it a well, the rain that 
 God sends down from heaven upon them that are here, also 
 fiUeththe pools, (Ps. Ixxxiv. 6, 7.) This valley is that from 
 whence also the King will give to his their vineyards, (Hos. 
 ii. 15;) and they that go through it shall sing, as Christian 
 (lid, for all he met with Apollyon. 
 
 1
 
 THE PILGElJl's PROGRESS. 241 
 
 Great-heart. It is true, said their guide, I have gone 
 tlirougli this valley many a time, and never ^^ experiment 
 was better than when here. °^ '*• 
 
 I have also been a conductor to several pUgrims, and they 
 have confessed the same. " To this man will I look," (saith 
 the King,) " even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, 
 and trembleth at my word," (Isa. Ixvi. 2.) 
 
 Now they were come to the place where the afore-men- 
 tioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, 
 her children, and Mercy, This is the place, on this ground 
 Christian stood, and up there came Apollyon ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ 
 acainst him. And look, did not I tell you ? Christian and the 
 
 ' . ^ ,1 T, n 1 1 Fiend did fight. 
 
 Here is some of your nusband s blooa upon Some signs of the 
 
 ,, . , 1111 1 1 battle remain, 
 
 these stones to this day ; behold, also, how 
 
 here and there are yet to be seen upon the place, some of 
 
 the shivers of ApoUyon's broken darts ; see also how they 
 
 did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to make 
 
 good their places against each other; how also, with their 
 
 by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces. Verily, 
 
 Christian did here play the man, and shewed himself as 
 
 stout, as coidd, had he been there, even Hercides 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 engraven 
 
 this battle, and Christian's victory, to his a monument of 
 
 fame throughout all ages. So, because it the battle. 
 
 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. A monument 
 
 The man so bravely play'd the man, "^ viit^^°'^ 
 
 He made the fiend to fly ; 
 Of which a monument I stand, 
 
 The same to testify." 
 
 When they had passed by this place, they came upon the
 
 
 243 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 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 
 
 that they heard a groaning, as of dead men, 
 
 Groanings heard. ^ • j.i • c j ±x. ^ i. 
 
 [men m the agomes of death,] a very great 
 
 groaning. They thought, also, they did hear words of 
 
 lamentation spoken, as of some in extreme torment. These 
 
 things made the boys to quake, the women also looked pale 
 
 and wan; but their guide bid them be of good comfort. 
 
 So they went on a little further, and they thought that 
 
 The ground ^^^7 ^^1* *^^ groimd begin to shake under 
 
 Bhakee. them, as if some hollow place was there; 
 
 they heard also a kind of a hissing, as of serpents, but nothing 
 
 as yet appeared. Then said the boys. Are we not yet at the 
 
 end of this doleful place ? But the guide also bid them be 
 
 of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest haply, said 
 
 he, you be taken in some snare. 
 
 Now James began to be sick, but I think the cause 
 
 James Bick with thereof was fear; so his mother gave him 
 
 ^®*''- some of that glass of spu-its that she had 
 
 given her at the Interpreter's house, and three of the pills 
 
 that Mr Skill had prepared, and the boy began to revive. 
 
 Thus they went on till they came to about the middle of the 
 
 valley, and then Christiana said, Methinks 
 
 ■ I see something yonder upon the road before 
 
 us, a thing of such a shape such as I have not seen. Then said 
 
 Joseph, Mother, what is it ? An ugly thing, child ; an ugly 
 
 The Pilgrims are ^'^^S> said she. But, mother, what is it 
 
 afraid. ]^^q •> g^i^ be. It is like I cannot tell what, 
 
 Baid she. And now it was but a little way off ; then said 
 
 she, It is nigh. 
 
 Well, well, said Mr Great-heart, Let them that are most 
 afraid, keep close to me. So the fiend came on, and the 
 
 I
 
 THE pilgrim's PIIOGRESS. 243 
 
 conductor met it; but when it was just come to him, it 
 vanished to all their sights. Then remem- Great-heart encou- 
 bered they what had been said some time ■^''^^es them, 
 ago, "Eesist the devil, and he will flee from you," (James 
 
 iv. 7.) 
 
 They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but 
 
 they had not gone far, before Mercy, looking behind her, 
 saw, as she thought, something most like a 
 lion, and it came a great padding pace after; 
 and it had a hollow voice of roaring ; and at every roar tliat 
 it gave, it made all the valley echo, and their hearts to ache, 
 save the heart of him that was their guide. So it came up ; 
 and Mr Great-heart went behind, and put the Pilgrims all 
 before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr Great- 
 heart 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, (I Peter v. 8, 9.) 
 Then they went on again, and their conductor did go 
 
 before them, till they came at a place where , , , 
 
 , A pit and darkness, 
 
 was cast up a pit the whole breadth oi the 
 
 way ; and, before they coidd be prepared to go over that, a 
 great mist and darkness fell upon them, so that they could 
 not see. Then said the Pilgrims, Alas ! now what shall we 
 do? But their guide made answer. Fear not, stand still, 
 and see what an end will be put to this also. So they 
 stayed there, because their path was marred. They then 
 also thought that they did hear more apparently the noise 
 and riishiug of the enemies ; the fire, also, and the smoke of 
 the pit, was much easier to be discerned. Then said Chris- 
 tiana to Mercy, Now I see what my poor Christiana now 
 
 husband went through; I have heard much knows what her hua- 
 
 ° band felt. 
 
 of this place, but I never was here before 
 
 now. Poor man, he went here all alone in the night ; he 
 
 had night almost quite through the way ; also, tliese fiends 
 
 were busy about him, as if they woidd have torn him in 
 
 .pieces. !Many have spoke of it, but none can tell what thf> 
 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean, until they conio
 
 244 TFiE filgrim's peogress. 
 
 in it themselves. "The heart knows its own bitterness, and 
 a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." To be here is a 
 fearfvd thing. 
 
 Oreat-heart. 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, (Isa. 1. 10.) 
 For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often 
 through this valley, and have been much harder put to it 
 than now I am, and yet you see T am alive. I would not 
 boast, for that I am not mine own saviour ; but I trust we 
 shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for light 
 to Him that can lighten oiu* darkness, and that can rebuke 
 not oidy these, but all the Satans in hell. 
 
 So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliver 
 ance, for there was now no let in their way; 
 eypraj. ^^ ^^^ there, where but now they were 
 stopped with a pit. Yet they were not got through the 
 vaUey ; so they went on stUl, and behold great stinks and 
 loathsome smells, to the great annoyance of them. Then 
 said Mercy to Christiana, There is not such pleasant being 
 here as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the house 
 where we lay last. 
 
 Oh, but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to go 
 
 One of the boy's through here as it is to abide here always; 
 reply. j^^^j fQj. 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 oy. 
 
 So on they went, and Joseph said. Cannot we see to the
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 245 
 
 end of this valley as yet? Then said the guide, Loo> to 
 
 your feet, for you shall presently be among the snares. So 
 
 they looked to their feet, and went on; but they were 
 
 troubled much with the snares. Now, when they were 
 
 come among the snares, they espied a man cast into the 
 
 ditch, on the left hand, with his flesh all rent and torn. 
 
 Then said the guide, That is one Heedless, that was agoing 
 
 this way : he has lain there a great while. „ ,, . , . 
 •' ' ° Heedless is slain, 
 
 There was one Take-heed with him, when an^l Take-heed pre- 
 
 he was taken and slain ; but he escaped 
 
 their hands. You cannot imagine how many are killed 
 
 hereabout, and yet men are so foolishly venturous, as to set 
 
 oiit lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a guide. 
 
 Poor Christian ! it was a wonder that he 
 
 here escaped; but he was beloved of his 
 
 God : also, he had a good heart of his own, or else he could 
 
 never have done it. Now they drew towards the end of the 
 
 way; and just there where Christian had seen the cave when 
 
 he went by, out thence came forth Maul, a 
 
 mi • TIT 1 T 1 i -1 Maul, a giant. 
 
 giant, ihis JVlaiu did use to spoil young 
 
 pilgrims with sophistry; and he called Great-heart by his 
 name, and said unto him. How many times ^g quarrels with 
 have you been forbidden to do these things? Great-heart. 
 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 generals, 
 said Mr Great-heart; come to particulars, man. 
 
 Then said the giant. Thou practisest the craft of a kid- 
 napper: thou gatherest up women and chil- ^ „ 
 
 '■'- ' ° _ '■ _ God s ministers 
 
 dren, and carriest them into a strange counted as kid-Dai>- 
 
 country, to the weakening of my master's 
 
 kingdom. But now Great-heart rephed, I am a serv^ant of 
 
 the G od of heaven ; my business is to persuade sinner? to
 
 246 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 repentance ; I am commaudecl to do my endeavour to turn 
 
 men, women, and children, " from darkness to light, and from 
 
 ^ . ^ ^ the power of Satan \into God:" and if this 
 The giant and ^ 
 
 Mr Great-heart must he indeed the ground of thy quarrel, let us 
 
 f;iil 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 
 Weak folks' pray- knees; with that the women and children 
 he!p^s"tron"1oui' ^ried out; SO Mr Great-heart recovering 
 ''"^^- himself, laid about him in fidl lusty man- 
 
 ner, 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 caldi-on. 
 
 Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr Great-heart 
 betook him to prayer ; also the women and children did no- 
 thing 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 full blow, fetche I 
 
 The giant struck ^^^ gi^nt down to the ground. Nay, hold, 
 down. j^Q(j IqI jqq 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. 
 
 ]SIr Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat 
 of his spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib ; with that 
 the giant began to faint, and could hold up his club no 
 longer. Then Mr Great-heart seconded his blow, and smote 
 the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then the women 
 and children rejoiced, and Mr Great-heart also praised God, 
 for the deliverance he had wrought. 
 
 When this was done, they among them erected a pillar, 
 and fastened the giant's head thereon, and He is slain, and hii 
 wrote underneath in letters, that passengers ^'^^ disposed cf, 
 might read—
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress, 247 
 
 " He that did wear this head, was one 
 
 That pilgrims did misuse ; 
 He stopp'd their way, he spared none, 
 
 But did them all abuse ; 
 Until that I, Great-heart, arose. 
 
 The pilgrim's guide to be ; 
 Until that I did him oppose. 
 
 That was their enemy." 
 
 Now I saw, that they went to the ascent that was a little 
 way off, cast up to be a prospect for pil- ^^^3^ p^^j^ p 59 
 grims, (that was the place from whence 
 Christian had the first sight of Faithful his brother;) where- 
 fore here they sat down, and rested; they also here did cat 
 and drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten de- 
 liverance from this so dangerous an enemy. As they sat 
 thus, and did eat, Christiana asked the guide if he had 
 caught no hurt in the battle. Then said Mr Great-heart, 
 No, save a little on my flesh; yet that also shall be so far 
 from being to my detriment, that it is at present a proof of 
 my love to my Master and you, and shall be a means, by 
 grace, to increase my reward at last, (2 Cor. iv.) 
 
 Chris. But was you not afraid, good Sir, Discourse of the 
 when you saw him come out with his club ? ^2^*- 
 
 Oreat-heart. It is my duty, said he, to distrust my own 
 ability, that I may have reliance on him that is stronger 
 than aU. 
 
 Chris. But what did you think when he fetched you down 
 to the ground at the first blow ? 
 
 Great-heart. Why, I thought, quoth he, that so my Master 
 himself was served, and yet he it was that conquered at the 
 
 last. 
 
 Matt. When you all have thought what you please, I think 
 God has been wonderful good unto us, both Matthew here ad- 
 in bringing us oiit of this vaUey, and in de- «^'^^« Ooo^^esB. 
 livering 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 suoh testi- 
 mony of his love as this.
 
 218 
 
 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 Then they g3t up and went forward. Now a little before 
 Old Honest asleep them stood an oak ; and under it, when they 
 
 under an oak. came to it, they found an old pUgrim fast 
 asleep; they knew that he was a pilgrim by his clothes, and 
 his staff, and his girdle. 
 
 So the guide, Mr Great-heart, awaked him, and the old 
 gentleman, as he lift up his eyes, cried out, What's the 
 matter? Who are you? and what is your business here? 
 
 Great-heart. Come, man, be not so hot, here are none but 
 friends ; yet the old man gets up, and stands upon his guard, 
 and will know of them what they were. Then said the 
 guide. My name is Great-heart; I am the guide of these pil- 
 grims, which are going to the Celestial Country. 
 
 Honest. Then said Mr Honest, I cry you mercy; I feared 
 
 . , that you had been of the company of those 
 
 One samt some- •' . -i-r-ir-i 
 
 times takes another that some time ago did rob Little-faith of 
 
 his money ; but now I look better about me, 
 
 I perceive you are honester people. 
 
 Talk between Great- Great-heart. Why, what would, or could 
 
 heart and he. yg^ have done, to have helped yourself, if 
 we indeed had been of that company ? 
 
 Hon. Done ! why T would have fought as long as breath 
 had been in me; and had I so done, I am sure you could 
 never have given me the worst on it; for a Chi-istian can 
 never be overcome, imless he should yield of himself. 
 
 Great-heart. Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide; 
 for by this I know thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou 
 hast said the truth. 
 
 IIo}i. And by this, also, I know that thou knowest what 
 true pilgrimage is; for all others do think that we are the 
 soonest overcome of any. 
 
 Great-heart. Well, now we are so happily met, pray let 
 WTience Mr Honest ™^ crave your name, and the name of the 
 came. place you came from. 
 
 Hon. My name I cannot ; but I came from the town of 
 Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond the City of 
 Destniction.
 
 THE pilgrim's PEOGRESS. 
 
 249 
 
 Great-heart. Oil! are yoxi tliat countryman, then? T 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 
 natiire shall agree to what I am called. 
 
 Hon. But, Sir, said the old gentleman, how coidd yoii 
 guess that T am such a man, since I came from such a place ? 
 
 Great-heart. I had heard of you before, by my Master; 
 for he knows all things that are done on the earth ; but I 
 have often wondered that any should come gt^pified ones are 
 
 from your place, for your town is worse ^orse than those 
 
 "' -^ ■' merely carnal. 
 
 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 P^ighteousness will arise upon him, his frozen 
 heart shall feel a thaw ; and thus it hath been with me. 
 
 Great-heart. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it; for 
 I know the thing is true. 
 
 Then the old gentleman saluted all the Pilgrims with a 
 holy kiss of charity; and asked them of their names, and 
 how they had fared siace they set out on their pilgrimage. 
 
 Chris. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose, you have 
 heard of ; good Christian was my husband, ow Honest and 
 and these four were his children. But can t;ii"stiana talk. 
 you think how the old gentleman was taken, when she told 
 him who she was ! He skijiped, he smiled, and blessed them 
 with a thousand good wishes, saying : — 
 
 Hon. I have heard much of your husband, and of his tra- 
 vels and wars, which he underwent in his days. Bo it 
 spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband rings 
 over all these parts of the world : his faith, his courage, his 
 enduring, and his sincerity under all, has made his name 
 famous. Then he turned him to the boys. He also talks with 
 and asked them of their names, which they go Js^lbieSing'o a 
 told him. And then said he imto them : tl^em. 
 Matthew, be thou like Matthew the pviblican, not in \ ice, 
 but in \irtue, (Matt. x. 3.) Samuel, said he, be thou like
 
 200 THE PILGEIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 Samuel tlie prophet, a man of faith and prayer, (Ps, xcix. 6.) 
 Joseph, said he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, 
 chaste, and one that flies from temptation, (Gen. xxxix.) 
 And James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the 
 brother of our Lord, (Acts i. 13, 14.) Then thej"- told him of 
 Mercy, and how she had left her town and 
 her kindred to come along with Christiana 
 and with her sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy 
 is thy name ; by mercy shalt thou be svistained, and carried 
 through all those difficulties that shall assault thee in thy 
 way, till thou shalt come thither, where thou shalt look the 
 Fountain of Mercy in the face with comfort. 
 
 All this while the guide, Mr Great-heart, was very much 
 pleased, and smiled xxpon his companion. 
 
 Talk of one Mr Now, as they walked along together, the 
 rearing. guide asked the old gentleman, if he did 
 not know one Mr Fearing, that came on pilgrimage out of 
 his parts ? 
 
 Hon. 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 aU my days. 
 
 Great-heart. 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 of 
 what would come upon lis hereafter, I was with him. 
 
 Great-heart. I was his guide from my Master's house to 
 the gates of the Celestial Cit}'-. 
 
 Hon. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one. 
 
 Great-heart. I did so, but I could very well hear it; for 
 men of my calling are oftentimes intrusted with the conduct 
 of such as he was. 
 
 Hon. Well then, pi'ay let us hear a little of him, and how 
 he managed himself xmder your conduct. 
 
 Mr Fearing'a Great-heart. Why, he was always afraid 
 
 ^?mage°™° ^' " that he should come short of whither he 
 
 had a desire to go. Everything frightened him that he heard
 
 THE pilgrim's peogress. 251 
 
 anybody speak of, that had but the least appearance of 
 opposition in it. I hear that he lay roar- His behaviour at 
 ing at the Slough of Despond for about fclie Slough of De- 
 a month together; nor durst he, for aU 
 he saw several go over before him, venture, though they, 
 many of them, offered to lend him their hand. He would 
 not go back again neither. The Celestial City, he said, 
 he shoiild die if he came not to it; and yet was dejected 
 at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw that any- 
 body cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the Slough 
 of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshine 
 morning, I do not know how, he ventured, and so got over; 
 but when he was over, he would scarce believe it. He had, 
 I think, a Slough of Despond in his mind ; a slough that he 
 carried everywhere with him, or else he could never have 
 been as he was. So he came up to the gate, you know what 
 I mean, that stands at the head of this way ; His beliaTiour at 
 and there also he stood a good while, before * e ga c. 
 he would adventure to knock. When the gate was opened, he 
 would give back, and give place to others, and say that he 
 was not worthy. For, for all he got before some to the gate, 
 yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man 
 would stand shaking and shrinking. T daresay 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 raj) or two ; then one 
 opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that 
 opened stepped out after him, and said. Thou trembling 
 one, what wantest thou? With that he fell down to the 
 groimd. H'i that spoke to him wondered to see him so 
 faint. So he said to him. Peace be to thee ; up, for I have 
 set open the door to thee. Come in, for thou art blessed. 
 With that he got up, and went in trembling ; and Avhen he 
 was in, he was ashamed to shew his face. Well, after he 
 had been entertained there a while, as you know how the 
 manner is, he was bid go on his way, and also told the way 
 he should take. So he came till he came to our house. But
 
 252 THE pilgrim's PE0GEES8. 
 
 as lie behaved himself at the gate, so he did at my master 
 
 the Interpreter's door. He lay thereabout 
 
 at the Interpreter's in the cold a good while, before he ■would 
 
 oor, u. XI . > . 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 chiclien-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 oiit of the window, and perceiving a man 
 
 to be up and down about the door, I went out to him, and 
 
 asked what he was ; but, poor man ! the water stood in his 
 
 eyes ; so I perceived what he wanted. I went, therefore, in 
 
 and told it in the house, and we shewed the thing to our 
 
 Lord. So he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in : 
 
 but, I daresay, I had hard work to do it. At last he came 
 
 How he was enter, i" ; and I wUl say that for my Lord, he car- 
 
 taiued there. j-j^j j^ wonderfully lovingly to him. There 
 
 were but 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 
 
 couraged at the In- seemed to get some heart, and to be a little 
 
 terpreter s ouse. j^Q^g comfortable ; for my master, you must 
 
 know, is one of very tender bowels, especially to them that 
 
 are afraid; wherefore he carried it so towards him as might 
 
 tend most to liis encouragement. Well, when he had had a 
 
 si"ht of the things of the i)lace, and was ready to take his 
 
 joiu-ney to go to the city, my Lord, as he did to Christian 
 
 before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfortable 
 
 things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went before 
 
 him; l>ut the man was Init of few words, only he would .sigh 
 
 aloud.
 
 _; '!?j"i"'j^<' 
 
 Mr. Fearing in the Valley of Humiliation.- -Page 253.
 
 THE piloeim's peogeess. 253 
 
 Wjien we vvere come to where tlie tliree fellows wei-e 
 
 hanged, he said that he doubted that that „ 
 
 ° ' He was greatly 
 
 M-oiild be his end also. Only he seemed afraid when he saw 
 glad when he saw the Cross and the Sepul- wlien he saw the 
 chre. There, I confess, he desired to stay a 
 little to look, and he seemed, for a while after, to be a little 
 cheery. When we came at the Hill DifScnlty, he made no 
 stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions; for you must 
 know that his trouble was not about such things as those; 
 his fear was about his acceptance at last. 
 
 I got him in at the House Beautiful, I think, before he 
 was willing. Also, when he was in, I Dumpish at the 
 brought him acquainted with the damsels House Beautiful, 
 that were of the place ; but he was ashamed to make him- 
 self much for company. He desired much to be alone, yet 
 he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the 
 screen to hear it. He also loved much to see ancient things, 
 and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me after- 
 wards that he loved to be in those two houses from which he 
 came last, to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter, 
 but that he durst not be so bold to ask. 
 
 When we went also from the House Beautiful, down the 
 hiU, into the Valley of Humiliation, he He went down 
 went down as well as ever I saw man in my j;}*°'sanUnX Va?- 
 lif e ; for he cared not how mean he was, so ^"^^ °^ HumOiation. 
 he might be happy at last. Yea, I think, there was a kind 
 of a sympathy betwixt that valley and him ; for I never saw 
 him better in all his pilgrimage than when he was in that valley. 
 
 Here he would lie down, embrace the groimd, and kiss 
 the very flowers that grew in this valley, (Lam. iii. 27-29.) 
 He would now be up every morning by break of day, ti-acing 
 and walking to and fro in this vaUey. 
 
 But when he was come to the entrance of the Valley of 
 
 the Shadow of Death, I thought I shoidd „ , 
 
 1 j_ i r XI i 1 1 T . ^^<^^ perplexed 
 
 have lost my man ; not tor that he had m the Valley of the 
 
 . T ■■ , T 1 ji i T 1 Shadow of Death. 
 
 any inclination to go back ; that he always 
 
 abhorred ; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh ! the hob- 
 
 ■*-»
 
 254 THE pilgeim's progress. 
 
 goblins will have me! tlie hobgoblins will have me! cried 
 he, and I could not beat him ovit on it. He made such a 
 noise and such an outcry here, that, had they but heard 
 him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon 
 
 us. 
 
 But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was 
 as quiet while he went through it, as ever I knew it before 
 or since. I suppose these enemies here had now a special 
 check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until 
 Mr Fearing was passed over it. ■ 
 
 It would be too tedious to tell you of aU, We will, there- ■ 
 
 fore, only mention a passage or two more. When he was " 
 
 His behaviour at come at Vanity Fair, I thought he would 
 Vanity fair. j^a,ve fought with all the men at the fair. I 
 feared there we shovdd both have been knocked on the head, 
 so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the Enchanted 
 Groimd he was also very wakeful. But when he was come 
 at the river, where was no bridge, there again he was in a 
 heavy case. Now, now, he said, he shovdd 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 remark- 
 able; the water of that river was lower at this time than 
 ever I saw it in aU my life. So he went over at last, not 
 nmch above wet-shod. When he was going up to the gate, 
 Mr Great-heart began to take his leave of him, and to wish 
 him a good reception above. So he said, I shall, I shall. 
 
 Then parted we asunder, and I saw him no 
 His boldness at last. 
 
 more, 
 
 Hon. Then, it seems, he was well at last. 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, yes ; I never had doubt about him ; he 
 . was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always kept very 
 low, and that made his life so burdensome to himself, and so 
 troublesome to others, (Ps. Ixxxviii.) 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, (Rom. xiv. 21 j 1 Cor. viii. 13.)
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. ^55 
 
 Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man 
 Bhould be all his days so much in the dark. 
 
 Oreat-heart. There are two sorts of reasons for it : One is, 
 the wise God wiU have it so; some must r,^^^^^ ^^y good 
 pipe and some must weep, (Matt. xi. 16-18.) men are so jn the 
 Now Mr Fearing was one that played upon 
 this bass ; he and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes 
 are more doleful than the notes of other music are ; though, 
 indeed, some say the bass is the ground of music. And, for 
 my part, I care not at all for that 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 here was the imperfection of 
 Mr Fearing, he could play upon no other music but this, till 
 towards his latter end, 
 
 I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripenmg 
 of the wits of yoimg readers ; and because, in the book of the 
 Eevelation, the saved are compared to a company of musi- 
 cians that play upon their trumpets and harps, and sing their 
 songs before the throne, (Rev. viii. 2, xiv. 2, 3.) 
 
 Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what 
 relation you have given of him ; difficulties, lions, or Vanity 
 Fair, he feared not at all. It was only sin, death, and heU. 
 that was to him a terror, because he had some doubts about 
 his interest in that celestial country. 
 
 Great-heart. You say right. Those were the things that 
 
 were his troublers, and they, as you have 
 
 „ , , . ,, , . A close about him. 
 
 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. 
 
 Chris. Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr Fearing 
 
 has done me good. I thought nobody had Christiana's 
 
 been like me; but I see there was some sentence.
 
 256 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 eemblance betAvixt this good man and T; only we differed 
 
 in two tilings : his troubles were so great, they brake out ; but 
 
 mine I kept within. His, also, lay so hard upon him, they 
 
 made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for 
 
 entertainment ; but my trouble was always such as made me 
 
 knock the louder. 
 
 Mercy. If I might also speak my heart, I must say, that 
 
 something of him has also dwelt in me: for 
 Mercy's sentence. r -j r .i i i 
 
 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 happi- 
 ness to have a habitation there, it is enough, though T part 
 with all the world to win it ! 
 
 Matt. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made 
 
 me think that I was far from having that 
 
 Matthew's sentence. . , , . , . , . , , . , , 
 
 within me that accompames salvation; but 
 
 if it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also 
 
 go well with me? 
 
 James. No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is 
 
 not always grace where there is the fear 
 James's sentence. „ , ,, , , ■, ,-, 
 
 01 hell, yet, to be sure, there is no grace 
 
 where there is no fear of God. 
 
 Great-heart. Well said, James, thou hast hit the mark ; 
 
 for the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom ; and, to be 
 
 sure, they that want the beginning have neither middle nor 
 
 end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr Fearing, 
 
 after we have sent after him this farewell. 
 
 Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear 
 
 Thy God, and wast afraid 
 Of doing anything, while here. 
 Their fareweU That would have thee betray'd. 
 
 about him. And didst thou fear the lake and pit? 
 Would others did so too ! 
 For, as for them that want thy wit. 
 They do themselves undo. 
 
 Now I saw that they still went on in their talk; for after 
 Mr Great-heart had made an end with Mr Fearing, Mr 
 Honest began to tell them of another, but his name was
 
 THE pilgrim's progress. 257 
 
 Mr Self-will. He pretended himself to be a pilgrim, said 
 Mr Honest; but I persuade myself lie never came in 
 at the gate that stands at the head of the 
 
 ^ Of Mr Self-will. 
 
 way. 
 
 Great'heart. Had you ever any talk with him about it ? 
 
 Hon. Yes, more than once or twice ; biit he would always 
 be like himself, self-willed. He neither q-^^ Honest had 
 cared for man, nor argument, nor yet ex- talked with him. 
 ample ; what his mind prompted him to do, that he would 
 do, and nothing else could he be got to. 
 
 Great-heart. Pray, what principles did he hold? for I 
 suppose you can tell. 
 
 Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices as well 
 as the virtues of the pilgrims ; and that if 
 he did both, he should be certainly saved. ^^ 
 
 Great-heart. How! if he had said, It is possible for the 
 best to be guilty of the vices, as well as to partake of the 
 virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed; for 
 indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on con- 
 dition that we watch and strive. But this, I perceive, is not 
 the thing ; but if I understand you right, your meaning is, 
 that he was of that opinion, that it was allowable so to be. 
 
 Hon. Ay, ay, so I mean; and so he believed and prac- 
 tised. 
 
 Great'heart. But what ground had he for his so saying? 
 
 Hon. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant. 
 
 Great-heart. Prithee, Mr Honest, present us with a few 
 particulars. 
 
 Hon. So I wUl. 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 save 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 
 
 R
 
 258 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 of his fathe* in the way of guile and dissimulation; and 
 therefore he could do so too. 
 
 Great-Jieart. Highly base, indeed ! And you are sure he 
 wag of this opinion ? 
 
 Hon. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scriptm-e for it, 
 bring argument for it, &c. 
 
 Great-heart. An opinion that is not fit to be with any 
 allowance in the world. 
 
 Hon. You must understand me rightly. He did not say 
 that any man might do this; but that those that had the 
 virtues of those that did such things, might also do the same. 
 
 Great-heart. But what more false than such a conclusion ? 
 for this is as much as to say, that because good men hereto- 
 fore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allowance 
 to do it of a presumptuous mind ; or if, because a child by 
 the blast of the wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, 
 fell down, and defiled itself in mii-e, therefore he might 
 wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. Who 
 could have thought that any one could so far have been 
 blinded by the power of lust ? But what is written must be 
 true: They "stumble at the word, being disobedient; where- 
 unto also they were appointed," (1 Peter ii. 8.) 
 
 His supposing that such may have the godly men's virtues, 
 who addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as 
 strong as the other. It is just as if the dog should say, I 
 have, or may have, the qualities of the child, because I lick 
 up its stinking excrements. To eat up the sin of God's 
 people, is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues, 
 (Hos. iv. 8.) Nor can I believe, that one that is of this 
 opinion can at present have faith or love in him. But I 
 know you have made strong objections against him; prithee, 
 what can he say for himself ? 
 
 Hon. Why, he says. To do this by way of opinion, seems 
 abundance more honest than to do it, and yet hold contrary 
 to it in opinion. 
 
 Great-heart. A very wicked answer; for though to let 
 loose the bridle to lusts, while our opinions are against such
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 259 
 
 things, is bad ; yet, to sin, and plead a toleration eo to do, is 
 worse. The one stumbles beholders accidentally, the other 
 pleads them into the snare. 
 
 Hon. There are many of this man's mind, that have not 
 this man's mouth : and that make going on pilgrimage of so 
 little esteem as it is. 
 
 Great-heart. You have said the truth, and it is to be 
 lamented; but he that feareth the King of Paradise, shall 
 come out of them all. 
 
 Chris. There are strange opinions in the world; I know 
 one that said. It was time enough to repent when they come 
 to die. 
 
 Great-heart. Such are not overwise. That man woidd 
 have been loth, might he have had a week to run twenty 
 miles in for his life, to have deferred that journey to the 
 last hour of that week. 
 
 Hon. You say right ; and yet the generality of them, that 
 count themselves pilgrims, do indeed do thus. I am, as you 
 see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many 
 a day ; and I have taken notice of many things. 
 
 I have seen some that have set out as if they would drive 
 aU 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 oiit to be x^ilgrims, and that one woidd have thought 
 coidd not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good 
 pilgrims. 
 
 I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again 
 have, after a little time, run as fast just back again. 
 
 I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pil- 
 grim's life at first, that, after a while, have spoken as much 
 against it. 
 
 I have heard some, when they first set out for Paradise, 
 say positively theu-e is such a place ; who, when they have 
 been almost ther i, have come back again, and said there is 
 none.
 
 260 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 I have heard some vaunt what they would do, in case they 
 should be opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, 
 the pilgrim's way, and all. 
 
 Now, as they were thus in their way, there came one 
 
 running to meet them, and said. Gentlemen, and you of the 
 
 Fresh news of weaker sort, if you love life, shift for your- 
 
 trouble. selves, for the robbers are before you. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr Great-heart, They be the three 
 that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, 
 Firs ar , p. . ^^.^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ready for them ; so they 
 
 went on their way. Now they looked at every turning, when 
 
 Great-heart's t^^^y should have met with the villains ; but 
 resolution. whether they heard of Mr Great-heart, or 
 whether they had some other game, they came not up to the 
 Pilgrims. 
 
 Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her 
 Christiana wisheth children, because they were weary. Then 
 
 for an iun. ga,i,j -^ly. Honest, There is one a little before 
 
 us, where a very honourable disciple, one Gaius, dwells, 
 
 (Eom. xvi. 23.) So they all concluded to 
 
 ^'^^"^' turn in thither, and the rather, because the 
 
 old gentleman gave him so good a report. So when they 
 
 came to the door, they went in, not knocking, for folks use 
 
 They enter into ^^ot to knock at the door of an inn. Th6n 
 his house. ^]^gy called for the master of the house, 
 and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there 
 that night. 
 
 Gains. Yes, gentlemen, if ye be true men, for my house 
 is for none but pilgrims. Then was Christiana, Mercy, and 
 
 Gaius entertains ^^^ boys, the more glad, for that the Imi- 
 them, andhow. keeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they 
 
 called for rooms, and he shewed them one for Christiana and 
 her children, and Mercy, and another for Mr Great-heart and 
 the old gentleman. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr Great-heart, Good Gaius, what 
 hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far to- 
 day, and are weary.
 
 THE pilgrim's progkess. 261 
 
 Oaitis. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conveniently 
 go out to seek food; but such aa we have, you shall be 
 welcome to, if that will content. 
 
 Great-heart. We will be content with what thou hast in 
 the house ; forasmuch as I have proved thee, thou art never 
 destitute of that which is convenient. 
 
 Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name 
 
 was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready 
 
 I- M • ml • 1 Gaius'scook. 
 
 supper for so many pilgrims. This done, 
 
 he comes up again, sajdng, Come, my good friends, you are 
 welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to enter- 
 tain you; and while supper is making ready, if you please, 
 let us entertain one another with some good discourse. So 
 they all said, Content. 
 
 Gaius, Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this ao-ed 
 
 matron? and whose daughter is this young Talk between 
 Ar.,^c^^^> Gaius and his 
 
 damsel ? guests. 
 
 Great-heart. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a 
 pilgrim of former times; and these are his four childi-en. 
 The maid is one of her acquaintance ; one that she hath per- 
 suaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all 
 after their father, and covet to tread in his 
 steps; yea, if they do but see any place Mark this. 
 where the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it 
 ministereth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread 
 in the same. 
 
 Gaius. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian's wife? and are 
 these Christian's children ? I knew your husband's father, 
 yea, also his father's father. Many have been good of this 
 stock ; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch, of Christian's 
 (Acts xi. 26.) Christian's progenitors (I ancestors, 
 
 suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were 
 very worthy men. They have, above any that I Icnow, 
 shewed themselves men of great virtue and courage, for the 
 Lord of the Pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. 
 I have heard of many of your husband's relations, that have 
 stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen, that was
 
 2G2 THE pilgPvIm's progress. 
 
 one of tlie first of tlie family from -whence your husband 
 sprang, was knocked on the head with stones, (Acts vii. 
 59, 60.) James, another of this generation, was slain with 
 the edge of the sword, (Acts xii. 2.) To say nothing of Paul 
 and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your 
 husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions ; 
 Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones ; and 
 Polycarp, that played the man in the fire. There was he 
 that was hanged up in a basket in the sun, for the wasps to 
 eat ; and he who they put into a sack, and cast him into the 
 sea to be drowned. It would be utterly impossible to count 
 up all of that family that have sufifered injui'ies 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. 
 
 Oreat-Jieart, Indeed, sir, they are likely lads ; they seem 
 to choose heai-tily their father's ways. 
 
 Gains. That is it that I said ; wherefore Christian's family 
 AdWce to Christiana is like still to spread abroad upon the face 
 
 about her boys. ^f ^j^g ground, and yet to be numerous 
 upon the face of the earth ; wherefore let Christiana look out 
 some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, 
 &c., that the name of their father and the house of his pro- 
 genitors may never be forgotten in the world. 
 
 Hon. It is pity this family should fall and be extinct. 
 
 Oaius. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may; but let 
 Christiana take my advice, and that is the way to uphold it. 
 
 And, Christiana, said this Innkeeper, I am glad to see 
 thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. 
 And may I advise, take Mercy into a nearer relation to thee ; 
 if she will, let her be given to Matthew, thy eldest son; it 
 Mercy and Matthew is the way to preseve you a posterity in the 
 marry. earth. So this match was concluded, and 
 
 in i)rocess of time they were married; but more of that 
 hereafter.
 
 THE pilgrim's PEOGEESS. 2C3 
 
 Gains also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the 
 behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death 
 and the curse came into the world by a woman, (Gen. iii.,) so 
 also did life and health : " God sent forth his Son, made of 
 a woman," (Gal. iv. 4.) Yea, to shew how .^^^ _„_„„ „« 
 
 ' ^ ' >Vny TTOmen ot 
 
 mucli those that came after did abhor the old so much desired 
 
 • 1 ^1 T cliildren. 
 
 act of the mother, this sex, in the Old 
 
 Testament, coveted children, if happily this or that woman 
 
 might be the mother of the Sa\dour of the world, 
 
 I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women 
 rejoiced in him before either man or angel, (Luke ii.) I read 
 not, that ever any man did give imto Christ so much as one 
 groat ; but the women followed him, and ministered to him 
 of their substance, (Luke viii. 2, 3.) It was a woman that 
 washed his feet with tears, and a woman that anointed his 
 body to the burial, (Luke vii. 37, 50; John xi. 2, xii. 3.) 
 They were women that wept, when he was going to the 
 cross, and women that followed him from the cross, and that 
 sat by his sepulchre, when he was buried, (Luke xxiii, 27 ; 
 Matt, xxvii. 55, 56, 61.) They were women that were first 
 with him at his resurrection-morn; and women that brought 
 tidings first to his disciijles, that he was i-isen from the dead, 
 (Luke xxiv. 22, 23.) Women, therefore, are highly favoured, 
 and shew by these things that they are sharers with us in 
 the grace of life. 
 
 Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost 
 ready, and sent one to lay the cloth, the tren- 
 chers, and to set the salt and bread in order. ^' 
 
 Then said Matthew, the sight of this cloth, and of this 
 foreruimer of the supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite 
 to my food than I had before. 
 
 Gains. So let all ministering doctrines to thee, in this life, 
 
 beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the 
 
 f j-u i. Tr- • I,- 1 ■ J '"'fa*' *o I'e ga- 
 
 supper 01 the great xung in his kmgdom ; thered from laying 
 £ II i- i 1 IT of the board with 
 
 lor ail preacnmg, books, and ordinances the cloth and trench- 
 here, are but as the laying of the trenchers, ^^^' 
 and as setting of salt upon the board, when compared with
 
 264 1UT. pilgrim's PROGRESg. 
 
 tlie feast that our Lord will make for \\a 'when we come to 
 Ms house. 
 
 So supper came up; and first, a heave-shoulder and a 
 wave-breast, (Lev. vii. 32-34, x. 14, 15,) were set on the 
 table before them, to shew that they must begin their meal 
 with prayer and praise to God, (Ps. xxv. 1; Heb. xiii. 15.) 
 The heave-shoulder David lifted his heart up to God with ; 
 and with the wave-breast, where his heart lay, with that he 
 used to lean upon his harp when he played. These two 
 dishes were very fresh and good, and they aU eat heartily 
 well thereof. 
 
 The next they brought uj) was a bottle of wine, red as 
 blood, (Deut. xxxii. 14.) So Gaius said to them. Drink 
 freely; this is the juice of the true vine, that makes glad the 
 heart of God and man, (Judges ix. 13; John xv. 1.) So they 
 drank and were merry. 
 
 The next was a dish of milk well crumbed; but Gaius 
 
 said. Let the boj'^s have that, that they may 
 A diBh of milk. ., , ,1 -r> , •■ i r» \ 
 
 grow thereby, (1 Feter u. 1, 2.) 
 
 Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and 
 Of honey and honey. Then said Gaius, Eat freely of this ; 
 butter. f Qj, ^jjjg jg 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 to refuse the evil and choose the good," 
 (Isa. vii. 15.) 
 
 Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they 
 
 were very good-tasted fruit. Then said 
 
 Adiahofapples. j^j^^^.j^g^^ j^^^y ^e eat apples, since they 
 
 were such, by and with which the serpent beguiled our Brst 
 mother ? 
 
 Then said Gaius — 
 
 " Apples were they with which we were begiiiled ; 
 Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defiled. 
 Apples forbid, if eat, corrupt the blood ; 
 To eat such, when commanded, does us good. 
 Drink of his flagons, then, thou church, his dove, 
 And eat his apples, who are sick of love."
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 2G5 
 
 Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because I a while 
 since was sick with eating of fruit. 
 
 Gains. Forbidden fruit will make you sick, but not what 
 our Lord has tolerated. 
 
 While they were thus talking, they were presented with 
 
 another dish, and it was a dish of nuts, 
 
 A dish of uuts. 
 (Cant. vi. 11.) Then said some at the table, 
 
 Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth of children; 
 
 which when Gains heard, he said — 
 
 "Hard texts are nuts, (I will not call them cheaters,) 
 Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters. 
 Ope then the shells, and you shall have the meat ; 
 They here are brought for you to crack and eat." 
 
 Then were they very merry, and sat at the table a long 
 time, talking of many things. Then said the old gentleman, 
 My good landlord, while we are cracking your nuts, if you 
 please, do you open this riddle : — 
 
 A man there was, though some did count him mad, a riddle put forth 
 The more he cast away, the more he had. by Old Honest. 
 
 Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gains 
 would say ; so he sat still awhile, and then thus repHed : — 
 
 " He that bestow his goods upon the poor, _, . 
 
 „, „ , , • J i X- .. Gaius opens it. 
 
 Shall have as much agam, and ten times more." 
 
 Then said Joseph, I dare say, sir, I did not think you 
 could have found it out. Joseph wonders. 
 
 Oh ! said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way a great 
 while ; nothing teaches like experience ; I have learned of 
 my Lord to be kind : and have found by experience, that 1 
 have gained thereby. "There is that scattereth, and yet 
 increaseth ; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, 
 but it tendeth to poverty," (Prov. xi. 24.) " There is that 
 maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh 
 himself poor, yet hath great riches," (Prov. xiii. 7.) 
 
 Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, and 
 said. Mother, this is a very good man's house, let us slay 
 here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married 
 here to Mercy before we go any further.
 
 2CG a'HE pilgeim's peogeess. 
 
 The wliicli Gaius the host overhearing, said, With a very 
 good wUl, my child. 
 
 Matthew and Mercy So they stayed there more than a month, 
 are married. j^^^ Mercy was given to Matthew to wife. 
 
 While they stayed here, Mercy, as her custom was, would 
 be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which 
 she brought up a very good report upon the Pilgrims. 
 
 But to return again to our story. After supper the lads 
 The boys go to bed, desired a bed; for that they were weary 
 
 the rest sit up. ^^^j^ travelling : then Gaius called to shew 
 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 teU 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 iip ; 
 now here is a riddle for you. Then said iMr Honest, Let us 
 hear it. 
 
 Then said Mr Great-heart — 
 
 " He that ■will kill, must first be overcome, 
 ^ ' Who live abroad would, first mv.st die at home." 
 
 Ha ! said Mr Honest, it is a hard one, hard to expoimd, 
 and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said he, I will, 
 if you please, leave my part to you; do you expoimd it, and 
 I will hear what you say. 
 
 No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is expected that 
 you should answer it. 
 
 Then said the old gentleman — 
 
 " He first by grace must conquer'd be, 
 The riddle That sin would mortify ; 
 
 opened. And who, that Uves, would convince me, • 
 
 Unto himself must die." 
 
 It is right, said Gaius ; good doctrine and experience 
 teaches this. For, first, untU grace displays itself, and 
 overcomes the soul with its glory, it is altogether without
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 2G7 
 
 heart to oppose sin ; besides, if sin is Satan's corcTs, by wbieli 
 tlie soul lies bouuS, how should it make resistance, before it 
 is loosed from that infirmity ? 
 
 Secondly, nor wiU any, that knows either reason or grace, 
 beheve that such a man can be a living monument of grace 
 that is a slave to his own corruptions. 
 
 And now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story 
 worth the hearing. There were two men a question worth 
 that went on pUgrimage : the one began the minding. 
 when he was young, the other when he was old. The young 
 man had strong corruptions to grapple with ; the old man's 
 were decayed with the decays of nature. The young man 
 trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way 
 as light as he. Who now, or which of them, had their 
 graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike ? 
 
 Hon. The young man's, doubtless. For that which heads 
 
 it against the greatest opposition, gives best - . 
 
 ° ° -^ ^ A comparison, 
 
 demonstration that it is strongest ; especially 
 
 when it also holdeth pace with that that meets not with half 
 so much ; as, to be sure, old age does not. 
 
 Besides, I have observed that old men have blessed them- 
 selves with this mistake, namely, taking . , 
 
 ■ T A mistake, 
 
 the decays of nature tor a gracious conquest 
 
 over corruptions, and so have been apt to beguile themselves. 
 Indeed, old men that are gracious, are best able to give ad- 
 vice 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 advan- 
 tage of the fau'est discovery of a work of grace within him, 
 tliough the old man's corruptions are naturally the weakest. 
 Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, Avhen the 
 family was uj), Christiana bid her son James that he should 
 read a chapter; so he read the fifty-third of Isaiah. When 
 he liad done, Mr Honest asked. Why it was 
 said that the Saviour is said to come " out 
 of a dry ground; ' and also, that "he had no form or comeli- 
 ness in him?"
 
 268 THE pilgrim's pbogress. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr Great-lieart, to tlie first, I 
 answer, Because the Church of the Jews, of which Christ 
 came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. 
 To the second, I say. The words are spoken in the person of 
 the unbelievers, who, becaiise they want that eye that can 
 see into our Prince's heart, therefore they judge of him by 
 the meanness of his outside. Just Uke those that know not 
 that precious stones are covered over with a homely crust; 
 who, when they have found one, because they know not 
 what they have found, cast it again away, as men do a com- 
 mon stone. 
 
 Well, said Gains, now you are here, and since, as I know, 
 Mr Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you jilease, 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 
 Giant Slay-good as- highway in these parts ; and I know where- 
 sauited and slaiu. ^bout his haunt is. He is master of a num- 
 ber of thieves. It would be well if we coiUd clear these parts 
 of him. 
 
 So they consented, and went, Mr Great-heart with his 
 Bword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves. 
 
 When they came to the place where he was, they found 
 
 „ . , ,1. him with one Feeble-mind in his hands, 
 
 He 13 found with ' 
 
 one Feebie-miud in whom his servants had brought unto him, 
 his hand. 
 
 havmg taken mm ux 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-heart. We want thee; for we are come to revenge 
 the quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, 
 when thou hast dragged them out of the King's highway ; 
 wherefore, come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and 
 came out ; and to a battle they went, and fought for above an 
 hour, and then stood still to take wind.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 269 
 
 Slay. Then said the giant, Why are you here on my 
 ground. ? 
 
 Great-heart. To revenge the blood of pilgruns, as I also 
 told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant 
 made Mr Great-heart give back; but he came up again, and, 
 in the greatness of his mind, he let fly with such stoutness at 
 the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon 
 fall out of his hand ; so he smote him, and slew him, and cut 
 off his head, and broiight it away to the inn. ^^^ Feeble-mina 
 He also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and rescued from the 
 brought him with him to his lodgings. When 
 they were come home, they shewed his head to the family, 
 and then set it iip, as they had done others before, for a 
 terror to those that shall attempt to do as he hereafter. 
 
 Then they asked Mr Feeble-mind how he fell into his 
 hands ? 
 
 Feeble-mind. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, 
 as you see; and, because death did usually how Feebie-rain<i 
 once a-day knock at my door, I thought I came to be a pii- 
 shoidd never be weU at home; so I betook 
 myself to a pilgrim's life, and have travelled hither from the 
 town of Uncertain, where I and my father were born. I am 
 a man of no strength at aU 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 tie 
 head of the way, the Lord of that place did entertain me 
 freely; neither objected he against my weakly looks, nor 
 against my feeble mind ; but gave me such things that were 
 necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. 
 When I came to the house of the Interpreter, T received 
 much kindness there; and because the Hdl 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 stiU, 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.
 
 270 THE pilgeim's progress. 
 
 (1 Thess. V. 14.) When I was come up to Assault Lane, 
 then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an en- 
 counter; but, alas! feeble one that I was, I had more need 
 
 of a cordial. So he came \ip and took me. 
 
 I conceited he should not kill me. Also, 
 when he had got me into his den, since I went not with him 
 willingly, I believed I shoiild come out alive again; for I 
 have heard, that not any pilgrim that is taken captive by 
 violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his Master, 
 is, by the laws of Providence, to die by the hand of the 
 enemy. Kobbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am ; 
 but I am, as you see, escaped with life ; for the which I thank 
 my King as author, and yoii as the means. Other brunts I 
 
 also look for ; but this I have resolved on, 
 
 to wit, to run when I can, to go when I 
 cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, 
 I thank him that loves me, I am fixed. My way is before 
 me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though 
 I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind. 
 
 Hon. Then said old Mr Honest, Have you not, some time 
 ago, been acquainted with one Mr Fearing, a pilgrim ? 
 Feeble. Acquainted with him ! Yes ; he came from the 
 Mr Fearing, Mr town of Stupidity, which lieth four degrees 
 Feeble-mind's uncle. ^^ tj^g northward of the City of Destruction, 
 and as many off -of where I was bom : yet we were well ac- 
 quainted, for, indeed, he was my uncle, my father's brother. 
 He and I have been much of a temper. He was a little 
 shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complexion. 
 Hon. I perceive you know him ; and I am apt to believe 
 
 „ , , . , , also that vou were related one to another ; 
 Feeble-mind has •' , . . 
 
 some of Mr Fear- for you have his whitely look, a cast like his 
 ing's features. .^^ , , . i_ vi 
 
 With your eye, and your speech is much alike. 
 
 Feeble. Most have said so that have known us both ; and 
 besides, what I have read in him, I have, for the most partj 
 found in myself. 
 
 Gains. Come, sir, said good Gains, be of good cheer, you 
 arc welcome to mo, and to my house, and what thou hast
 
 THE PILGEiai's PROGRESS. 271 
 
 a mind to, call for freely ; and what thou wouldest have 
 my servants do for thee, they will do it with caius comforts 
 a ready mind. 
 
 Then said Mr Feeble-mind, This is unexpected favour, and 
 as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. Notice to be taken 
 Did Giant Slay-good intend me this favour of Providence, 
 when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further ? 
 Did he intend, that after he had rifled my pockets, I should 
 go to Gains, mine host ? Yet so it is. 
 
 Now, just as Mr Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, 
 there comes one running, and called at the Tidings how one 
 door, and told that, about a mile and a half ^i°h"a° thimderboit! 
 off, there was one Mr Not-right, a pilgrim, ^^^d-s^^omments 
 struck dead upon the place where he was "PO" it- 
 with a thunderbolt. 
 
 Feeble. Alas ! said Mr Feeble-mind, is he slain? He over- 
 took me some days before I came so far as hither, and would 
 be my company-keeper. He also was with me when Slay- 
 good, the giant, took me ; but he was nimble of his heels, 
 and escaped. But, it seems, he escaped to die, and I w.as 
 took to live. 
 
 What, one would think, doth seek to Siay outright, 
 
 Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight. 
 
 That very providence, whose face is death. 
 
 Doth ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath. 
 
 I taken was, he did escape and flee ; 
 
 Hands cross'd, gives death to him, and life to me. 
 
 Now, about this time, Matthew and Mercy were married- 
 Also Gaius gave his daughter Phebe to James, Matthew's 
 brother, to wife; after which time they yet stayed above ten 
 days at Gaius' house, spending their time, and the seasons, 
 like as pilgrims used to do. 
 
 When they were to depart, Gaius made them a feast, and 
 they did eat and drink, and were merry. The Pilgrims pre- 
 Now the hour was come that they must be rare to go forward, 
 gone ; wherefore Mr Great-heart called for a reckoning ; bv.t 
 Gaius told him, that at his house it was not the custom for
 
 272 THE pilgeim's progeess. 
 
 pilgrims to pay for their entertaioment. He boarded them 
 
 How they greet ^7^^^ 7^^^' ^^^* looked for his pay from the 
 
 one another at part- good Samaritan, who had promised him, at 
 
 his return, whatsoever charge he was at 
 
 with them, faithfully to repay him, (Luke x. 34, 35.) Then 
 
 said Mr Great-heart to him — 
 
 Great-heart. "Beloved, thou dost faithfully whatsoever 
 thou dost to the brethren, and to strangers; which have 
 borne witness of thy charity before the church; whom if 
 thou (yet) bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, 
 thou Shalt do well," (3 John 5, 6.) 
 
 Then Gains took his leave of them all, and of his children, 
 
 Gaia5, his last and particularly of Mr Feeble-mind. He also 
 kindness to Feeble- ,. ^. . , ,.,, ,, 
 
 mind. gave nim somethmg to drmk by the way. 
 
 Now ]Mr Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the 
 door, made as if he intended to linger ; the which when Mr 
 Great-heart espied, he said. Come, Mr Feeble-mind, pray do 
 you go along with lis, I will be your conductor, and you 
 shaU fare as the rest. 
 
 Feeble. Alas! I want a suitable companion; you are aU 
 Feeble-mind for 1^3*7 a^d strong; but I, aa you see, am 
 gomg behind. ■\veak; I choose, therefore, rather to come 
 behind, lest, by reason of my many infirmities, I should be 
 both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man 
 of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and made 
 weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no laugh- 
 ing; I shall like no gay attire; I shall like no unprofitable 
 questions. Nay, I am so weak a man, as to be offended 
 with that which others have liberty to do. 
 I do not yet know all the truth. I am a 
 very ignorant Christian man ; sometimes if I hear some 
 rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I cannot do so 
 too. It is with me, as it is with a weak man among the 
 strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a 
 lamp despised, (" He that is ready to shp with his feet, is as 
 a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease," Job 
 xii. 5,) so that I know not what to do. 
 
 II
 
 THE pilgrim's progresb. 273 
 
 Great-heart. But, brother, said Mr Great-heart, I have 
 
 it in commission to "comfort the feeble- Great-heart's 
 
 minded," and to "support the weak," (1 oon^sBio-^- 
 
 Thess. V. 14.) You must needs go along with us; we will 
 
 wait for you; we will lend you our help, (Rom. xiv. 1;) Ave 
 
 will deny ourselves of some things, both . „^ . ,. 
 
 •' 1 A ChriBtian spirit. 
 
 opinionative and practical, for your sake, 
 
 (1 Cor. viii.,) we wUl not enter into doubtful disputations 
 
 before you ; we will be made aU things to you, rather than 
 
 you shall be left behind, (1 Cor. ix. 22.) 
 
 Now all this while they were at Gaius's door; and be- 
 hold, as they were thus in the heat of their discourse, IMr 
 Ready-to-halt came by, with his crutches* in his hand, (Ps. 
 xxxviii. 17 ;) and he also was going on pil- 
 grimage. 
 
 Feeble. Then said Mr Feeble-mind to him, Man, How 
 camest thou hither? I was but just now p^gbie-mind glad 
 
 complaiuing, that I had not a suitable com- to see Ready-to-hait 
 
 •' ° come by. 
 
 panion, but thou art according to my wish. 
 
 "Welcome, welcome, good Mr Ready-to-halt, I hope thee and 
 
 I may be some help. 
 
 Ready-to-halt. I shall be glad of thy company, said the 
 other ; and good Mr Teeble-mind, rather than we wiU part, 
 since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my 
 crutches. 
 
 Feeble. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy good- 
 will, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. Howbeit, 
 I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog. 
 
 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 — 
 
 Hon. Pray, sir, now we are upon the road, tell lis some 
 profitable things of some that have gone on .vr + iv 
 
 JV6W tftis* 
 
 pilgrimage before us.
 
 274 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 
 
 Great-heari, With a good will. I suppose you liave heard 
 First Part, l^^w Christian of old did meet with ApoUyon 
 
 pp. 56-63, 68-72. jjj ^^^ 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 
 Faithfiil was put to it with Madam Wanton, with Adam 
 the First, with one Discontent, and Shame, four as deceitful 
 villains as a man can meet with upon the road. 
 
 Hon. Yes, I have heard of all this; but indeed, good 
 Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame ; he was an un- 
 wearied one. 
 
 Oreat-Heart, Ay; for, as the Pilgrim well said, he of all 
 men had the wrong name. 
 
 Hon. But pray, sir, where was it that Christian and 
 
 Faithfid met Talkative? That same was 
 First Part, p. 75. , , . , 
 
 also a notable one. 
 
 Great-heart. He was a confident fool, yet many follow his 
 
 ways. 
 
 Hon. He had liked to have beguiled Faithful. 
 
 Oreat-lieart. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly 
 
 to find him out. Thus they went on till 
 
 First Part, p. 85. j, j_ xi i i -m i- ^ 
 
 they came at the place where tvangelist 
 
 met with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them 
 
 of what should befall them at Vanity Fair. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said there 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-heart. It was so ; but he gave them encouragement 
 
 withal. But what do we talk of them? 
 First Part, p. 93. _n i r t i-i j.t- 
 
 They were a couple of lion-hke men ; they 
 
 had set their faces like flint. Don't you remember how 
 
 undaunted they were when they stood before the judge? 
 
 Hon. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. 
 
 Great-heart, So he did, and as brave things came on H; 
 
 ■
 
 THE pilgrim's pbogress. 275 
 
 for Hopeful and some others, as the stoiy relates it, were con- 
 verted by his death, 
 
 Hon. Well, but pray go on ; for you are well acquainted 
 with things. 
 
 Great-heart. Above aU that Christian met with after he 
 had passed through Vanity Fair, one By-ends was the 
 
 ^^°^°^^- , ^ , First Part, p. 98. 
 
 Bon. By-ends ! what was he? 
 
 Great-heart. A very arch f eUow ; a downright hypocrite. 
 One that would be religious which way ever the world went; 
 but so cunning that he would be sure neither to lose nor suffer 
 for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion; 
 and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and 
 change from opinion to opinion ; yea, and plead for so doing 
 too. But, so far as I could learn, he came to an iU end 
 with his by-ends ; nor did I ever hear that any of his children 
 were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God. 
 
 Now, by this time, they were come within sight of the 
 town of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is kept. ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ 
 So, when they saw that they were so near within sight of Va- 
 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 conductor of pU- 
 gTims through this town; now I am ac- ^j^^^ ^^^^^ .^^^ 
 quainted with one Mr Mnason, a Cyj)rusian pne Mr Mnason's to 
 by nation, an old disciple, at whose house 
 we may lodge, (Acts xxi. 16.) If you think good, said he, 
 we will turn in there. 
 
 Content, said old Honest; Content, said Christiana; Con- 
 tent, said Mr Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now, you 
 must tliink, it was even-tide by that they got to the outside 
 of the town ; but Mr Great-heart knew the way to the old 
 man's house. So thither they came ; and he called at the 
 door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever 
 he heard it; so he opened, and they aU came in. Then eaid 
 Mnason their host. How far have ye come to«day? 6o they
 
 276 THE pilgrim's PEOaEESS. 
 
 said, From the liouse of Gains our friend. I promise ymi, 
 said he, you have gone a good stitch, you may well be a 
 weary ; sit down. So they sat down. 
 
 Great-heart, Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, 
 They are glad of ^i^^ ? I dare say you are welcome to my 
 eutertainment. friend 
 
 Mnason. I also, said Mr Mnason, do bid you welcome, 
 and, whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what 
 we can to get it for you. 
 
 Hon. Our great want, a while since, was harbour and good 
 company, and now I hope we have both. 
 
 Mnason. For harbour, you see what it is ; but for good 
 company, that will appear in the trial. 
 
 Great-heart. Well, said Mr Great-heart, will you have the 
 Pilgrims up into their lodging ? 
 
 Mnason. I will, said Mr Mnason. So he had them to their 
 respective places ; and also shewed them a very fair dining- 
 room, where they might be, and suj) together, until time 
 was come to go to rest. 
 
 Now, when they were set in their places, and were a little 
 cheery after their journey, ISIi' Honest asked his landlord, if 
 there were any store of good people in the town? 
 
 Mnason. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few, 
 when compared with them on the other side. 
 
 Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them ? for the 
 
 sight of good men to them that are going on pilgrimage, 
 
 „, , . ^ is like to the appearing of the moon and 
 
 They desire to see '- >- ° 
 
 camo of the good the stars to them that are sailing xmoa the 
 people of the town. 
 
 seas. 
 
 Then Mr Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter 
 
 Grace came up; so he said imto her, Grace, 
 
 go you, tell my friends, Mr Contrite, Mr 
 
 Holy -man, Mr Love-saint, Mr Dare-not-lie, and Mr Penitent, 
 
 that I have a friend or two at my house that have a mind 
 
 this evening to see them. 
 
 So Grace went to call them, and they came; and, after 
 
 salutation made, they sat down together at the table.
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 277 
 
 Then said Mr Mnason, their landlord, My neighlDours, I 
 have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house ; 
 they are Pilgrims ; they come from afar, and are going to 
 Mount Zion, But who, quoth he, do you think this is? 
 pointing with his finger to Christiana; it is Christiana, the 
 wife of Christian, that famous PUgrim, who, with Faithful 
 his brother, were so shamefully handled in our town. At 
 that they stood amazed, saying, We little thought to see 
 Christiana, when Grace came to caU us ; wherefore this is a 
 very comfortable surprise. Then they asked her of her wel- 
 fare, and if these young men were her husband's sons? And 
 when she had told them they were, they said, The King 
 whom you love and serve, make you as your father, and 
 bring you where he is in peace! 
 
 Hon. Then Mr Honest (when they were all sat down) 
 
 asked Mr Contrite and the rest, in what Some talk betwixt 
 . Mr Houest and Con- 
 
 posture their town was at present ? trite. 
 
 Contrite. You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair- 
 time. It is hard keeping our hearts and spirits in any good 
 order, when we are in a cumbered condition, rrjjg fruit of watch- 
 He that lives in such a jilace as this is, fulness. 
 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 for quietness ? 
 
 Contrite. They are much more moderate now than for- 
 merly. You know how Christian and ^ 
 
 •' Persecution not so 
 
 Faithful were used at our town : but of tot at Vanity Fair 
 
 &iS formGrlv 
 
 late, I say, they have been far more mode- 
 rate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with load upon 
 them till now; for since they burned him, they have been 
 ashamed to bm-n any more. In those days we were afraid 
 to walk the streets, but now we can shew 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 fareth it with
 
 278 THE pilgrim's progress, 
 
 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 ia clean, sometimes foul, sometimes up 
 hill, sometimes dowTi hill; we are seldom at a certainty; the 
 wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend 
 that we meet with in the way. We have met with some 
 notable rubs already; and what are yet behind, we know not; 
 but for the most part, we find it true, that has been talked 
 of, of old, A good man must suffer trouble. 
 
 Contrite. You talk of rubs ; what rubs have you met 
 withal? 
 
 Hon. Nay, ask Mr Great-heart, our guide, for he can give 
 the best account of that. 
 
 Great-heart. We have been beset three or four times 
 already. First, Christiana and her children were beset with 
 two ruffians, that they feared would a took away their lives. 
 We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and 
 Giant Slay-good. Indeed we did rather beset the last, than 
 were beset of him. And thus it was : After we had been 
 some time at the house of "Gaius, mine host, and of the 
 whole chxvrch," (Eom. xvi. 23,) we were minded upon a time 
 to take our weapons with us, and so go see if we coidd light 
 upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims, (for we heard 
 that there was a notable one therabouts.) Now Gaius 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 was about to bring him to his end. 
 But when he saw us, supposing, as we thought, he had had 
 another prey, he left the poor man in his hole, and came out. 
 So we fell to it f uU sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but 
 in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his 
 head cut off, and set up by the way-side, for a terror to such 
 as should after practise such ungodliness. That I teU you
 
 THE PILOEIM's PROGRESS. 
 
 279 
 
 the tiTitli, here is the man himself to afl&rm it, who was as a 
 lamb taken out of the month of the lion. 
 
 Feeble-mind. Then said Mr Feeble-mind, I found this true, 
 to my cost and comfort : to my cost, when he threatened to 
 pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I 
 saw Mr Great-heart and his friends, with their weajions, 
 approach so near for my deliverance. 
 
 Holy-man. Then said Mr Holy-man, There are two things 
 that they have need to be possessed with, jjj. Holy-man's 
 that go on pilgrimage : courage, and an speech. 
 
 unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never 
 hold on their way ; and if their lives be loose, they will make 
 the very name of a pilgrim stink. 
 
 Love-saint. Then said Mr Love-saint, I hope this caution 
 is not needful amongst you. But truly, Mr Love-saint's 
 there are many that go upon the road, speech. 
 
 that rather declare themselves strangers to pUgrimage, than 
 strangers and pilgrims in the earth. 
 
 Dare-not-lie. Then said Mr Dare-not-lie, It is true, they 
 neither have the pilgrim's weed, nor the Mr Dare not-lie's 
 pilgrim's courage; they go not uprightly, Bpeech. 
 
 but all awry with their feet; one shoe goes inward, another 
 outward, and their hosen out behind; there a rag, and there 
 a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord. 
 
 Penitent. These things, said Mr Penitent, they ought to 
 be troubled for ; nor are the pilgrims like Mr penitent's 
 to have that grace put upon them and their speech. 
 
 pilgrim's progress as they desire, until the way is cleared of 
 such spots and blemishes. 
 
 Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until supper 
 was set upon the table ; unto which they went and refreshed 
 their weary bodies ; so they went to rest. Now they stayed 
 in this fair a great while, at the house of this Mr Mnason, 
 who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grace imto 
 Samiiel, Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha 
 to Joseph. 
 
 The time, as I said, that they lay here, was long, (for it
 
 280 THE pilgrim's peogkess. 
 
 was not now as in former times.) Wherefore the PUgrims 
 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 place. They were also all of them very fruit- 
 ful ; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like 
 to live in the world. 
 
 While they lay here, there came a monster out of the 
 woods, and slew many of the people of the 
 town. It would also carry away their chil- 
 dren, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now no man in 
 the town durst so much as face this monster ; but all men 
 fled when they heard of the noise of his coming. 
 
 The monster was like unto no one beast upon the earth : 
 
 His Bhape, his i^^ body was like a dragon, and it had seven 
 nature. heads and ten horns, (Rev. x^di. 3.) It 
 
 made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by 
 a woman. This monster propounded conditions to men, and 
 such men as loved their lives mi^re than their souls accepted 
 of those conditions. So they came under. 
 
 Now this Mr Great-heart, together with these that came 
 to visit the Pilgrims at Mr 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 Mi' Great-heart, Mr Contrite, Mr Holy-man, 
 
 Mr Dare-not-lie, and Mr Penitent, with 
 How he is engaged. , . t i.-u j. 4. i • -vr 
 
 their weapons, go forth to meet him. JNow 
 
 the monster, at first, was very rampant, and looked upon 
 
 these enemies with great disdain; but they so belaboured 
 
 him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a 
 
 retreat ; so they came home to Mr IMnason'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 pilgrim's peogress. 281 
 
 the people of the town ; also these seasons did these valiant 
 worthies watch him in, and did still continually assaixlt 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 has done. And it 
 is verily believed by some, that this beast will die of his 
 Avounds. 
 
 This, therefore, made Mr Great-heart and his fellows of 
 great fame in this town , so that many of the people that 
 Avanted their taste of things, yet had a reverend esteem and 
 respect for them. Upon this account therefore it was, that 
 these Pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were 
 some of the baser sort, that coidd see no more than a mole, 
 nor understand more than a beast ; these had no reverence 
 for these men, nor took they notice of then- valour or 
 adventures. 
 
 Well, the time grew on that the Pilgrims must go on their 
 way, wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent 
 for their friends ; they conferred with them ; they had some 
 time set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection 
 of their Priace. There were again, that brought them of 
 such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the 
 strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with 
 such things as were necessary, (Acts xxviii. 10.) 
 
 Then they set forward on their way j and their friends 
 accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again 
 committed each other to the protection of their King, and 
 parted. 
 
 They, therefore, that were of the Pilgrims' company went 
 on, and Mr Great-heart went before them. Now the women 
 and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they 
 coidd bear ; by this means Mr K.eady-to-halt and Mr Feeble- 
 mind had more to sympathise 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 Faithfid was put to death ; there therefore they 
 made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to
 
 282 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 
 
 bear his crosa so well ; and tlie rather because they novr 
 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 Hopefid joined 
 himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead. 
 
 Now they were come up with the Hill Lucre, where the 
 
 silver mine was, which took Demas off from 
 First Part, p. 154. , . ... , . , ■, . , 
 
 his pilgrimage, and mto which, as some 
 
 think, By-ends fell and perished ; wherefore they considered 
 
 that. But when they were come to the old monument that 
 
 stood over against the Hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt 
 
 that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake ; 
 
 they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of that 
 
 knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, shoidd be so 
 
 blinded as to tm-n aside here. Only they considered again, 
 
 that nature is not affected with the harms that others have 
 
 met with, esj)ecially if that thing upon which they look, has 
 
 an attracting \drtue upon the foolish eye. 
 
 I saw now that they went on, till they came at the river 
 
 that was on this side of the Delectable 
 First Part, p. 110. -.r ^ • m ^i • i ,i /> 
 
 Mountains. lo the river where the fine 
 
 trees grow on both sides ; and whose leaves, if taken in- 
 wardly, are good against surfeits, where the meadows are 
 green all the year Icing, and where they might lie do^vn 
 safely, (Ps. xxiii.) 
 
 By this river side, in the meadow, there were cotes and 
 folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and bringing 
 up of those lambs, the babes of those women that go on 
 pilgrimage, (Heb, v. 2.) Also there was here one that was 
 intrusted with them, who could have compassion, and that 
 coidd gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them in 
 his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with 
 young, (Tsa, xl. 11.) Now to the care of this iviajst, Chris- 
 tiana 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
 
 THE pilgrim's PE0ORE88. 283 
 
 lacking in time to come. This Man, if any of them go 
 astray, or be lost, he will bring them again : he will also 
 bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen them 
 that are sick, (Ezek. xxxiv. 11-16.) Here they will never 
 want meat, and drink, and clothing ; here they will be kept 
 from thieves and robbers ; for this Man will die before one 
 of those committed to his trust shall be lost, (Jer, xxiii. 4.) 
 Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and 
 admonition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, and 
 that you know is a favour of no small account. Also here, 
 as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty 
 flowers, variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit ; 
 fruit not like that that Matthew ate of, that fell over the 
 wall out of Beelzebub's garden; but fruit that procureth 
 health where there is none, and that continueth and in- 
 creaseth 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 King, 
 and so was as an hospital for young children and orphans. 
 
 Now they went on ; and when they were come to By-path 
 
 Meadow, to the stile over which Christian 
 
 „ , -r-r . , , ,1 First Tart, p. 111. 
 
 went with his fellow Hopeful, when they 
 
 were taken by Giant Despaii', and put into Doubting Castle ; 
 
 they sat down and consulted vrhat was best ^^^^ ^^.^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 to be done ; to wit, now they were so strong, to By-path stiie, havj 
 
 ' "^ ,3- mind to have a 
 
 and had got such a man as Mr Great-heart pluck with Giant De- 
 fer their conductor, whether they had not 
 best to make an attempt upon the Giant, demolish his 
 castle, and, if there were any pUgrima 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 
 7?as lawful to go upon imconsccrated ground; another said 
 they might, provided their end was good; but Mr Great- 
 heart said. Though that assertion offered last cannot be uni- 
 versally true, yet I have a commandment to resist sin, to 
 overcome cvU, to fight the good fight of faith ; and, I pray,
 
 284 THE pilgrim's PK0GRES8. 
 
 with whom shoiild I fight this good fight, if not with Giant 
 Despair ? I will, therefore, attempt the taking away of his 
 life, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. Then said he. 
 Who will go with me ? Then said old Honest, I will. And 
 so will we too, said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, 
 James, and Joseph; for they were young men and strong, 
 (1 John iii. 13, 14.) So they left the women in the road, and 
 with them IVIr Feeble-mind and Mr Eeady-to-halt with his 
 crutches, to be their guard, until they came back; for in 
 that place, though Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping 
 in the road, a little child might lead them, (Isa. xi. 6.) 
 
 So Mr Great-heart, old Honest, and the four young men, 
 went to go up to Doubting Castle, to look for Giant Despair. 
 When they come 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 re- 
 plied. It is I, Great-heart, one of the King of the Celestial 
 Coiintry'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 
 
 Despair has over- ^o m^n could overcome him; and, again, 
 come angels. thought he, since heretofore I have made 
 a conquest of angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid ! So 
 he harnessed himself, and went oiit. 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 
 
 Despair is loath ^^ ^^^ ground, but was very loath to die. 
 
 to die. jjg struggled hard, and had, as they say, as 
 
 many lives as A cat; but Great-heart was his death, for 
 
 I
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 285 
 
 he left him not till he had severed his head from his 
 shoulders. 
 
 Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, that you 
 know might with ease be done, since Giant Doubting Castie 
 Despair was dead. They were seven days demolished. 
 in destroying of that; and in it of pilgrims they found one 
 Mr Despondency, almost starved to death, and one Much- 
 afraid, his daughter; these two they saved alive. But it 
 would have made you a-wondered to have seen the dead 
 bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how 
 full of dead men's bones the dungeon was. 
 
 When Mr Great-heart and his companions had performed 
 this exploit, they took Mr Despondency, and his daughter 
 Much-afraid, into their protection; for they were honest 
 people, though they were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to 
 that tyrant Giant Despair. They, therefore, I say, took 
 with them the head of the giant, for his body they had 
 buried imder a heap of stones, and down to the road and to 
 their companions they came, and shewed them what they 
 had done. Now when Feeble-mind and E,eady-to-halt saw 
 that it was the head of Giant Despair indeed, they were very 
 jocund and merry. Now Christiana, if need was, could play 
 upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy upon the lute; so 
 since they were so merry disposed, she They have music and 
 played them a lesson, and Eeady-to-halt «lancing for joy. 
 would dance. So he took Despondency's daughter, named 
 Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in the 
 road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his 
 hand; but, I promise you, he footed it well. Also the girl 
 was to be commended, for she answered the music hand- 
 somely. 
 
 As for Mr Despondency, the music was not much to him ; 
 he was for feeding rather than dancing, for that he was 
 almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle 
 of spirits, for present relief, and then prepared him some- 
 thing to eat ; and, in a little time, the old gentleman came to 
 himself, and began to be finely revived.
 
 286 THE pilgrim's peogress. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were 
 finished, Mr Great-heart took the head of Giant Despair, and 
 set it upon a pole by the highway side, right over against the 
 pillar that Christian erected for a caution to pilgrims that 
 came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds. 
 
 Though Doubtijig Castle be demolished, 
 And the Giant Despair hath lost his head, 
 Sin can rebuild the castle, make 't remain. 
 And make Despair the Giant live again. 
 
 Then he writ under it, upon a marble stone, these verses 
 
 following : — 
 
 " This the head of him, whose name only 
 In former times did pilgrims terrify. 
 His castle's down ; and Diffidence, his wife, 
 Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of life. 
 A monument of Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, 
 deliTerance. Great-heart for them also the man has play'd: 
 Who hereof doubts, if he 11 but cast his eye 
 Up hither, may his scruples satisfy : 
 This head also, when doubting cripples danc% 
 Doth shew from fears they have deliverance." 
 
 When these men had thus bravely shewed themselves 
 against Doubting Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they 
 went forward ; and went on till they came to the Delectable 
 Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed them- 
 selves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted 
 themselves with the Shepherds there, who welcomed them, 
 as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable 
 Mountains. 
 
 Now the Shepherds, seeing so great a train follow Mr 
 Great-heart, for with him they were well acquainted, they 
 said unto him. Good Sir, you have got a goodly company 
 here. Pray, where did you find all these ? 
 
 Then Mr Great-heart replied — 
 
 " First, here is Christiana and her train, 
 Her sons, and her sons' wives, who like the wain, 
 The Guide's speech Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer, 
 to the Shepherds. From sin to grace, else they had not been here ; 
 Next, here 's old Honest, oome on pilgi-image, 
 Eeady-to-halt, too, who, I dare engage.
 
 THE PTT.GRIM'S PR0GEE86. 287 
 
 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 wo have entertainment here, or must 
 We fui-ther go ? Let 's know whereon to trust." 
 
 Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable compauy. 
 You are welcome to us, for we have comfort Their 
 
 for the feeble as for the strong. Onr Prince entertainment, 
 has an eye to what is done to the least of these ; therefore 
 infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment, (Matt. 
 XXV. 40.) So they had them to the palace door, and then 
 said Tinto them, Come in, Mr Feeble-mind; Come in, Mr 
 Eeady-to-halt ; Come in, Mr Despondency, and Mrs Much- 
 afraid, his daughter. These, Mr Great-heart, said the Shep- 
 herds to the guide, we caU in by name, for that they are 
 most siibject to draw back; but as for you, and the rest that 
 are strong, we leave you to your wonted Liberty. Then said 
 Mr Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in your 
 faces, and that you are my Lord's shepherds ^ description of 
 indeed ; for that you have not pushed these *^« shepherds, 
 diseased neither with side nor shoidder, but have rather 
 strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you 
 should, (Ezek. xxxiv. 21.) 
 
 So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr Great-heart and 
 the rest did follow. When they Avere also set down, the 
 Shepherds said to those of the weaker sort, What is it that 
 you would have ? for, said they, aU things must be managed 
 here to the supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of 
 the unruly. 
 
 So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and 
 that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing ; the which, 
 when they had received, they went to their rest, each one 
 respectively unto his proper place. When morning was 
 come, because the mountains were high, and the day clear, 
 and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to shew to 
 the Pilgrims, before their departure, some rarities ; therefore, 
 after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the
 
 288 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 
 
 Sheplierda took them out iuto the fields, and shewed them 
 first what they had shewed to Christian before. 
 
 Then they had them to some new places. The first was 
 to Mount Marvel, where they looked, and 
 beheld a man at a distance, that tumbled 
 the hills about with words. Then they asked the Shep- 
 herds what that should mean ? So they told them, that that 
 man was the son of one Great-grace, of whom you read in 
 
 the First Part of the Records of the Pil- 
 First Part, p. 125. • , -n a i v • t. ^-u j. 
 
 grims Progress. And he is set there to 
 
 teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their 
 
 way, what diiiiciilties they shall meet with, by faith, (!Mark 
 
 xi. 23, 24.) Then said Mr Great-heart, I know him. He is 
 
 a man above many. 
 
 Then they had them to another place, called Moimt Inno- 
 cent ; and there they saw a man clothed all 
 
 Mount Innocent. . , ., , , _ . ,. ■, -^^^ 
 
 m white, and two men, Prejudice and Ill- 
 will, continually casting dirt upon him. Now, behold, the 
 dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in little time fall 
 off again, and his garments would look as clear as if no dirt 
 had been cast thereat. 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims, What means this? The Shep- 
 herds answered, This man is named Godly -man, and this gar- 
 ment is to shew the iimocency of his life. Now, those that 
 throw dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing ; but, as 
 you see, the dirt wiU not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be 
 with him that liveth truly innocently in the world. Who- 
 ever they be that would make such men dirty, they labour 
 aU in vain; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause 
 that their innoccDce shaU break forth as the light, and 
 their righteousness as the noon-day. 
 
 Then they took them, and had them to Moimt Charity, 
 
 where they shewed them a man that had a 
 
 bundle of cloth lying before him, out of 
 
 which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood 
 
 about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. 
 
 Then said they, What should this be? This is, said the 
 
 i
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 289 
 
 Slieplierclfl, to shew you, that he that has a heart to give of 
 his lahoiir to the poor, shall never vrant wherewithal. He 
 that watereth shall be watered himself. And the cake that 
 the widow gave to the prophet did not cause that she had 
 ever the less in her barrel. 
 
 They had them also to a place where they saw one Fool, 
 
 and one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, 
 
 . r » The work of one 
 
 with intention to make him white; but the Pool, and one Want- 
 more they washed him the blacker he was. 
 They then asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So 
 they told them, saying, Thus shall it be with the vHe per- 
 son. All means used to get such a one a good name shall, 
 in conclusion, tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it 
 was with the Pharisees, and so shall it be with aU hj^pocrites. 
 
 Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana, her 
 mother, Mother, I would, if it might be, see Mercy has a mind 
 the hole in the hill, or that commonly caUed the wu.''*® ^"^^ ^ 
 the by-way to hell. So her mother brake First Part, p. 121. 
 her mind to the Shepherds. Then they went to the door. 
 It was in the side of a Mil, and they opened it, and bid 
 Mercy hearken a whUe, So she hearkened, and heard one 
 saying, Cursed be my father, for holding of my feet back 
 from the way of peace and life ! and another said, that I 
 had been torn ia pieces, before I had, to save my life, lost 
 my soul! and another said, If I were to live agaia, how 
 would I deny myself, rather than come to this place ! Then 
 there was as if the very earth had groaned and quaked 
 under the feet of this young woman for fear. So she looked 
 white, and came trembling away, saying, Blessed be he and 
 she that are delivered from this place. 
 
 Now when the Shepherds had shewn them aU these things, 
 then tiiey had them back to the palace, and entertained them 
 with what the h ouse would afford. But Mercy, being a young 
 and breeding woman, longed for something Mercy longeth, una 
 that she saw there, but was ashamed to ask. ^"'^ ^^^*' 
 
 Her mother-in-law then asked her what she ailed; for she 
 looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, there is a lookiR?- 
 
 I
 
 290 THE pilgrim's prooress. 
 
 glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot taiia 
 my mind : if, therefore, I have it not, I think I shall mis- 
 carry. Then said her mother, I wiU mention thy wants to 
 the Shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, 
 I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. 
 Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame but a virtue, to long 
 for such a thing as that. So Mercy said, Then, mother, if 
 you please, ask the Shepherds if they are willing to sell it. 
 Now the glass was one of a thousand. It woidd present a 
 It was the Word man, one way, with his own features exactly, 
 of God. ^jj^g_ j_ 23 ;) and, turn it but another way, 
 
 and it should shew one the very face and similitude of the 
 Prince of Pilgrims himself, (1 Cor. xiii, 12.) Yea, I have 
 talked with them that can tell, and they have said that 
 they have seen the very crown of thorns upon his head, by 
 looking in that glass ; they have therein also seen the holes 
 in his hands, in his feet, and his side, (2 Cor. iii. 1 8. ) Yea, 
 such an excellency is there in that glass, that it wUl shew 
 him to one where they have a mind to see him ; whether 
 living or dead; whether in earth or heaven; whether in a 
 state of hiinuliation, 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 are Knowledge, 
 
 First Part, p. 119. . -nr 4. -uf i j o- j 
 
 Experience, Watchful, and feincere, — and 
 
 said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding 
 woman, that I think doth long for something that she hath 
 seen in this house ; and she thinks she shall miscarry, if she 
 shall by you be denied. 
 
 Experience. Call her, call her; she shall assuredly have 
 She doth not lose "w^liat we can help her to. So they called 
 her longing. jjgj.^ ^^^ g^id to her, Mercy, what ia that 
 thing thou wouldst have? Then she blushed, and said, The 
 great glass that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere 
 ran and fetched it, and, with a joyful consent, it was given 
 her. Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said, 
 By this I know that I have obtained favour in your eyea
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 291 
 
 They also gave to the other young -women such things as 
 they desired, and to their husbands great commendations, for 
 that they had joined with Mr Great-heart, to the slaying of 
 Giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. 
 
 About Christiana's neck the Shepherds put a bracelet, 
 and so they did about the necks of her foiir ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ 
 daughters ; also they put ear-rings in their herds adorn the Pii- 
 ears, and jewels on theix' foreheads. 
 
 When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in 
 
 peace, but gave not to them those certaux cautions which 
 
 before were given to Christian and his com- ^. ^„ , ,„„ 
 
 First Part, p. 122. 
 panion. The reason was, for that these had 
 
 Great-heart to be their guide, who was one that was weU 
 
 acquainted with things, and so could give them their cautious 
 
 more seasonably; to "svit, even then when the danger was 
 
 nigh the approaching. 
 
 What cautions Christian and his companion had received 
 
 of the Shepherds, they had also lost, by 
 
 . .,,,■, 11 1 ^"'8t Part, p. 132. 
 
 that the tmie was come that they had need 
 
 to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage 
 
 that this company had over the other. 
 
 From hence they went on singing, and they said — 
 
 "Beliold, how fitly are the stages set 
 For their relief that pilgrims are become I 
 And how they us receive without one let, 
 That makes the other Ufe our mark and home 1 
 
 "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 shew we Pilgrims are, where'er we go.'' 
 
 When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly 
 
 came to the place where Chi'istian met with 
 
 one Turn-away, that dwelt in the town of , ' ' ' 
 
 Apostacy. Wherefore of him Mr Great-heart, their guide, 
 
 did now put them in mind, saying. This How one Tum- 
 1 1 riT, • i- i •j.'u ^^*y managed his 
 
 18 the place where Christian met with one apostacy. 
 
 Turn-away, who carried with him the character of his
 
 I 
 
 292 
 
 THE PILGEIM*S PROGRESS, 
 
 rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concern- 
 ing this man; he would hearken to no counsel, but, once fall- 
 ing, persuasion could not stop him. 
 
 When he came to the place where the Cross and the 
 Sepulchre were, he did meet with one that did bid him look 
 there, but he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and 
 said, he was resolved to go back to his own town. Before 
 he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, who offered 
 to lay hands on him, to turn him into the way again. But 
 this Turn-away resisted him, and having done much despite 
 unto him, he got away over the wall, and so escaped his 
 hand, (Heb. x, 26-29.) 
 
 Then they went on; and just at the place where Little- 
 One Valiant-for- **^*^ formerly was robbed, there stood a 
 tWeves ^'^^^^ ^''^ ^^^ ^^*^ ^^^ sword drawn, and his face all 
 bloody. Then said Mr Great-heart, What 
 art thou ? The man made answer, saying, I am one whose 
 name is Valiant-for-truth. I am a pilgrim, and am going to 
 the Celestial City. Now, as I was in my way, there were 
 three men did beset me, and propounded imto me these 
 three things: — 1. Whether I would become one of them. 
 2. Or go back from whence I came. 3. Or die upon the place. 
 To the first I answered, I had been a true man a long season, 
 and therefore it could not be expected that I now should 
 cast in my lot with thieves, (Prov. 1. 10-14.) Then they 
 demanded what I would say to the second. So I told them 
 that the place from whence I came, had I not found incom- 
 modity there, I had not forsaken it at all ; but finding it 
 altogether unsuitable to me, and very unprofitable for me, I 
 forsook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to 
 the third. And I told them. My life cost more dear far, than 
 that I shoiild lightly give it away. Besides, you have nothing 
 to do thus to put things to my choice ; wherefore, at your 
 peril be it if you meddle. Then these three, to wit. 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
 
 THE pilgeim's peogkess. 293 
 
 three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of 
 the marks of their valour, and have also car- How he behavea 
 
 .,, ,, . . rni. himself, and put 
 
 ried away with them some oi mme. Ihey them to flight. 
 are but just now gone. I suppose they might, as the saying 
 is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook them to flight. 
 
 Great-heart. But here was great odds. Great-heart wonders 
 three against one . ^^^^ ^a^o"^- 
 
 Valiant. It is true ; but little or more are nothing to him 
 that has the truth on his side. "Though an host shoidd 
 encamp against me," said one, "my heart shall not fear; 
 though war shoidd rise against me, in this will I he confi- 
 dent," (Ps. xxvii. 3.) Besides, saith he, I have read in some 
 records, that one man has fought an army. And how many 
 did Samson slay with the jaw-bone of an ass, (Judg. xv. 
 15, 16.) 
 
 Oreat-heart. Then said the giude, Why did you not cry 
 out, that some might have come in for your succour ? 
 
 Valiant. So I did, to my King, who, I knew, could hear, 
 and afford invisible help, and that was sufficient for me. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Great-heart to Mr Valiant-for-truth, 
 Thou hast worthily behaved thyself. Let me see thy sword. 
 So he shewed it him. When he had taken it in his hand, 
 and looked thereon a while, he said. Ha ! it is a right Jeru- 
 salem blade, (Isa. ii. 3.) 
 
 Valiant. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, 
 with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, and he may ven- 
 tiu-e upon an angel with it. He need not fear its holding, if 
 he can but tell how to lay on. Its edges will never blunt. 
 It win cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit, and all, (Eph. 
 vi. 12-17 ; Heb. iv. 12.) 
 
 Great-heart. But you fought a great whUe ; I wonder you 
 was not weary. 
 
 Valiant. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand ; 
 
 and when they were joined together, as if a The Word. 
 , J r 1 1 ,1 The Faith. 
 
 sword grew out or my arm, and when the Blood. 
 
 blood ran through my fingers, then I fought with most cour^ 
 
 age, (2 Sam. xxiii. 10.)
 
 294 THE pilgeim's progress. 
 
 Great-heart. Thou hast done well. Thou hast "resisted 
 unto blood, striving against sin." Thou shalt abide by 
 us, come in and go out with us, for we are thy compa- 
 nions. 
 
 Then they took him, and \wished 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 with his 
 company them that were feeble and weak, therefore he ques- 
 tioned with him about many things ; as, first, what countiy- 
 man he was ? 
 
 Valiant. I am of Dark -land; for there I was born, and 
 there my father and mother are stUl. 
 
 Great-heart. Dark-land, said the guide ; doth not that lie 
 upon the same coast with the City of Destruction? 
 
 Valiant. Yes, it doth. Now that which caused me to come 
 
 How Mr Valiant ^^ pUgrimage was this: we had one Mr 
 
 came to go on pil- TeU-true came into our parts, and he told it 
 grimage, 
 
 about what Christian had done, that went 
 
 from the City of Destruction ; namely, how he had forsaken 
 his wife and childi-en, and had betaken himself to a pUgrim'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, espe- 
 cially 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 Shiaing Ones. He told it also, how all the 
 bells in the city did ring for joy at his reception, and what 
 golden garments he was clothed with, with many other 
 things that now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that 
 man so told the story of Christian and his travels, that my 
 heart feU into a biuming haste to be gone after him, nor could 
 father or mother stay me ! So I got from them, and come 
 thus far on my way. 
 
 Great-heai-t. You came in at the gate, did you not?
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGRESS. 295 
 
 Valiant. Yea, yes ; for the same man also told ua that all 
 
 would be nothing, if we did not begin to 
 
 . , He begins nght. 
 
 enter this way at the gate. 
 
 Great-heart. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the 
 
 pilgrunage of your husband, and what he has 
 
 *• ° , , . , , T J. ^ Christian's name 
 
 gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. famous. 
 
 Valiant. Why, is this Christian's wife ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four 
 
 sons. 
 
 Valiant. What ! and going on pilgrimage too ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, verily j they are following after. 
 
 Valiant. It gladdens me at heart. Good man! how joyful 
 will he be when he shall see them that ^^ .^ ^^^^ j.^. 
 would not go with him, yet to enter after joiced to see Ciiris- 
 him in at the gates into the city. 
 
 Great-heart. Without doubt it wUl be a comfort to him ; 
 for, next to the joy of seeiag himself there, it wUl be a joy 
 to meet there his wife and children. 
 
 Valiant. But, now you are upon that, pray let me hear 
 your opinion about it. Some make a question. Whether we 
 shall know one another when we are there. 
 
 Great-heart. Do they think they shall know themselves 
 then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that 
 bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do these, why 
 not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also? 
 
 Again, since relations are our second self, though that state 
 will be dissolved there ; yet why may it not be rationally 
 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-heart. Yes. Was your father and mother willing 
 that you should become a pUgrim? 
 
 Valiant. Oh no I They used aU means imaginable to per- 
 suade me to stay at home. 
 
 Oreat-heart, What could they say against it?
 
 296 THE pilgrim's peoqeess. 
 
 Valiant. They said it was an idle life; and if I myself 
 
 The great stum- Were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I 
 
 hli'fatwere'i^I ^o^ld never countenance a pUgrim's con- 
 
 in Ms way. dition. 
 
 Oreat-heart. And what did they say else ? 
 
 Valiant. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way; 
 yea, the most dangerous way in the world, said they, is that 
 which the pilgrims go. 
 
 Great-heart. Did they shew wherein this way is so danger- 
 ous? 
 
 Valiant. Yes ; and that in many particulars. 
 
 Great-heart. Name some of them. 
 
 Valiant. They told me of the Slough of Despond, where 
 The first Christian was well-nigh smothered. They 
 
 stumbiing-blook. ^^i^ ^^ ^j^^^ 1}^^-,.^ ^ere archers standing 
 
 ready in Beelzebub's Castle to shoot them that should knock 
 at the wicket-gate for entrance. They told me also of the 
 wood, and dark moimtaius; of the Hill Difficulty; of the 
 lions ; and also of the three giants. Bloody-man, Maul, and 
 Slay-good. They said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend 
 haunted the Valley of Humiliation, and that Christian was 
 by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must 
 go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hob- 
 gobUns 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 Avith there. Further, they said I must go over 
 the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And that, 
 after all this, I should find a river, over which I should find 
 no bridge, and that that river did lie betwixt me and the 
 Celestial Country. 
 
 Great-heart. And was this aU ? 
 
 Valiant. No. They also told me that this way was full of 
 deceivers, and of persons that laid in wait 
 there, to turn good men out of the path. 
 
 Great-heart. But how did they make that out ? 
 
 Valiant. They told me that Mr "Worldly-wiseman did
 
 THE filgeim's peogress. 297 
 
 tliere lie in wait to deceive. They also said, that there was 
 Formality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They said, 
 also, that By-ends, Talkative, or Demas would go near to 
 gather me up ; that the Flatterer would catch me in his net ; 
 or that, with green-headed Ignorance, I would presume to go 
 on to the gate, from whence he always was sent back to the 
 hole that was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by- 
 way to hell. 
 
 Great-heart. I promise you this was enough to discourage ; 
 but did they make an end here ? 
 
 Valiant. No ; stay. They told me also of many that had 
 
 tried that wav of old, and that had gone a 
 
 , . .. ,, fi - n The third, 
 
 great way therein, to see if they coma nnd 
 
 something of the glory there, that so many had so much 
 
 talked of from time to time ; and how they came back again, 
 
 and befooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that 
 
 path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And they named 
 
 several that did so; as Obstinate and PHable, Mistrust and 
 
 Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more, 
 
 who, they said, had some of them gone far, to see if they 
 
 covdd find ; but not one of them found so much advantage 
 
 by going as amounted to the weight of a feather. 
 
 Great-heart. Said they anything more to discourage you ? 
 
 Valiant. Yes. They told me of one Mr Fearing, who was 
 
 a pilgrim; and how he found this way so ^, , ^, 
 
 ° The fourth, 
 
 solitary, that he never had a comfortable 
 
 hour therein. Also, that Mr Despondency had Uke to have 
 
 been starved therein ; yea, and also, which T 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 Eiver, and never went foot 
 
 further, however it was smothered ui>. 
 
 Great-heart. And did none of these things discourage 
 
 you? 
 
 Valiant. No; they seemed but as so many nothings to 
 
 me. 
 
 Great-heart. How came that about '
 
 298 THE pilgrim's PR0GEES8. 
 
 Valiant. Why, I still believed what Mr Tell-truo had 
 
 How he got over said, and that carried me beyond them 
 
 these stumbling- -^ 
 
 blocks. all. 
 
 Oreat-heart. Then this was your victory, even your faith. 
 
 Valiant. It was so. I believed, and therefore came out, 
 got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, 
 and, by believing, am come to this place. 
 
 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 fii-st apow'd intent 
 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Who so beset him round 
 
 With dismal stories, 
 Do but themselves confound, — 
 
 His strength the more is; 
 No lion can him fright, 
 lie '11 with a giant fight ; 
 But he will have a right 
 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Hobgoblin noi- foul fiend 
 
 Can daunt his spirit ; 
 He knows he at the end 
 
 Shall life inherit. 
 Then fancies fly away, 
 He '11 fear not what men say 
 He 'U labour night and day 
 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where 
 
 the ail' naturally tended to make one drowsy ; 
 Fh:stPart,p.l35. , , , , , „ -4.1 i • 
 
 and that place was all grown over with briars 
 
 and thorns, 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, say some, whether ever he shall 
 rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest, there- 
 fore, they went, both one and the other, and Mr Great-heart 
 went before, for that he was the guide j and Mr Vahaut-for- 
 truth, he came behind, being there a guard, for fear, lest
 
 THE PILGEIM'S PROGRESS. 299 
 
 peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or tliief, slioixld 
 fall upon their rear, and so do miscliief . They went on here, 
 each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew 
 it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered iip one another 
 as well as they could; Feeble-mind, Mr Great-heart com- 
 manded, should come up after him, and Mr Despondency was 
 \mder 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 soma 
 time, to feel for one another by words ; for they walked not 
 by sight. 
 
 But any one must think that here was but sorry going for 
 the best of them all ; but how much worse for the women 
 and children, who both of feet and heart were but tender. 
 Yet so it was, that throiigh the encouraging words of he that 
 led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, 
 they made a pretty good shift to wag along. 
 
 The way also was here very wearisome, through dirt and 
 slabbiness. Nor was there on aU this ground so much as one 
 inn or victualling-house, therein to refresh the feebler sort. 
 Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing. 
 While one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the 
 dirt; and the children, some of them, lost their shoes ia the 
 mire. While one cries out, I am down ; and another. Ho I 
 where are you? and a third. The bushes have got such fasb 
 hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them. 
 
 Then they come at an arbour, warm, and promising much 
 refreshing to the Pilgrims; for it was finely An artour on the 
 wrought above head, beautified with greens, Enchanted Ground. 
 furnished with benches and settles. It also had in it a soft 
 couch, whereon the Aveaiy might lean. This, you must think, 
 all things considered, was tempting ; for the Pilgrims already 
 began to be foUed 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
 
 300 THE pilgeim's pkogeess. 
 
 f aitliftilly 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 np their spirits, and hearten 
 
 The name of the one another to deny the flesh. This arbour 
 arbour. .^,^3 called The Slothful's Friend, on pur- 
 
 pose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims there to 
 take up their rest when weary. 
 
 I saw then in my di-eam, that they went on in this their 
 
 The way difficult solitary groimd, tUl they came to a place at 
 
 to find. 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 
 
 The guide has a """^s put to a stand; but he had in his pocket 
 SgTo'orro'mthe a map of all ways leading to or from the 
 "^y* Celestial City; wherefore he struck a Hght, 
 
 for he never goes, also, without his tinder-box, and takes a 
 view of his book or map, which bids him be careful, in that 
 place, to turn to the right-hand way. And had he not here 
 been careful to look in his map, they had aU, in probability, 
 been smothered in the mud; for just a little before them, 
 and that at the end of the cleanest way, too, was a pit, none 
 knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on 
 purpose to destroy the Pilgrims in. 
 
 Then thought I with myself, who that goeth on pilgrim- 
 age, but would have one of these maps about him, that he 
 
 may look when he is at a stand, which is 
 God's Book. , , , , . , 
 
 the way he must take. 
 
 They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, till they 
 An arbour, and came to where there was another arbour, 
 two asleep therem. ^nd it was built by the highway-side. And 
 in that arbour there lay two men, whose names were Heed- 
 less and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage ; 
 but here, being wearied with their journey, they sat down 
 to rest themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the Pil- 
 grims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads ; for 
 they knew that the slee^iers were in a pitifid case. Then 
 they considted what to do, whether to go on and leave them
 
 THE PILGEIM's PE0GRES3. 301 
 
 in their sleep, or to step to them, and try to awake them. 
 So they concluded to go to them, and awake them ; that is, 
 if they could ; but with this caution, namely, to take heed 
 that themselves did not sit down nor embrace the offered 
 benefit of that arbour. 
 
 So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each 
 by his name, for the guide, it seems, did know them ; but 
 there was no voice nor answer. Then the rpije Pilgrims try 
 guide did shake them, and do what he coidd *° '"^^^ *'^^™' 
 to disturb them. Then said one of them, I will pay you 
 when I take my money. At which the guide shook hia 
 head, I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my 
 hand, said the other. At that one of the children 
 laughed. 
 
 Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this ? The 
 guide said, They talk in their sleep. If you Tiieir endeavour 
 strike them, beat them, or whatever else iafrmtless. 
 you do to them, they will answer you after this fashion; or, 
 as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea 
 did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of a 
 ship, "When ahaU I awake? I wiU seek it yet again," 
 (Prov. xxiii. 34, 35.) You know, when men talk in their 
 sleep, they say anything, but their words are not governed 
 either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in their 
 words now, as there was before, betwixt their going on pil- 
 grimage, and sitting down here. This, then, is the mischief 
 of it, when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, it is twenty to 
 one but they are served thus; for tliis Enchanted Ground 
 is one of the last refuges that the enemy to j)Ugrim3 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, wUl these fools be so desiroua 
 to sit down, as when they are weary ? and when so like to 
 be weary, as when almost at their journey's end ? There- 
 fore it is, I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh 
 to the Land Beulah, and so near the end of their race. 
 Wherefore, let pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to
 
 302 THE pilgrim's peooeess. 
 
 them as it has done to these, that, as you see, are fallen 
 asleep, and none can wake them. 
 
 Then the Pilgrims desired, with trembling, to go forward ; 
 
 Thelicijtofthe o^ly they prayed their guide to strike a 
 
 Word, 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, (2 Peter i. 19.) 
 
 But the children began to be sorely weary ; and they cried 
 
 The children crs out unto him that loveth pilgrims, to make 
 for weariness. ^^^^-^ ^g_y ^^^^ comfortable. So by that 
 
 they had gone a little further, a wind arose, that drove away 
 the fog; so the air became more clear. 
 
 Yet they were not ofif, fey 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 groimd, 
 
 they perceived that, a little before them, was a solemn noiso 
 
 of one that was much concerned. So they went on and 
 
 „. , , . looked before them ; and behold they saw, 
 
 stand-fast upon ' •' ' 
 
 his knees in the En- as they thought, a man itpon his knees, with 
 chanted Ground. " ^ ^ ' 
 
 hands and eyes lift up, and speaking, as 
 
 thej' 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 
 
 80 soon as Mr Honest saw him, he said, I know this man. 
 
 The story of Then said Mr Valiant-for-truth, Prithee, 
 Stand-fast. y-^^ .]g j^ 9 j^ jg ^^g^ gj^j^^ jjg^ ^j^q comes 
 
 from whereabouts I dwelt. His name is Stand-fast; he is 
 
 certainly a right good pilgrim. 
 
 Talk between him ^0 they came up One to another ; and pre- 
 
 aud Mr Honest, ggj^^ly Stand-fast said to old Honest, Hoi 
 
 father Honest, aie you there ? Ay, said he, that I am, as sure
 
 THE PILCtEIM*S PROGRESS. 303 
 
 as you are there. Right glad am I, said Mr Stand-fast, that I 
 have foiind you on this road. And as glad am I, said the 
 other, that I espied you upon your knees. Then Mr Stand- 
 fast blushed, and said, But why, did you see me ? Yes, that 
 I did, quoth the other, and with my heart was glad at the 
 sight. Why, what did you think ? said Stand-fast. Think ! 
 said old Honest, what should I think ? I thought we had an 
 honest man upon the road, and therefore should have his 
 company by and by. If you thought not amiss, said Stand- 
 fast, how happy am I ; but if I be not as I should, 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, saith he, "Blessed is 
 the man that f eareth always. " 
 
 Valiant. Well, but brother, T iiray thee tell lis what was 
 it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now ? 
 Was it for that some special mercies laid xhey found him 
 obligations upon thee, or how ? **' prayer. 
 
 Stand-fast. Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted 
 
 Groimd: and as I was coming along, I was ,,„, * .. ., . 
 ' _ o o' What it was tliat 
 
 musing with myself of what a dangerous road fetched him upou his 
 the road in this place was, and how many 
 that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here been 
 stojiped and been destroyed. I thoiight also of the manner 
 of the death with which Ifhis place destroyeth men. Those 
 that die here die of no violent distemper. The death which 
 such die la not grievous to them ; for he that goeth away in 
 a sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure; yea, 
 such acquiesce in the wiU of that disease. 
 
 Hon. Then Mr Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did you 
 see the two men asleep in the arbour ? 
 
 Stand-fast. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there ; 
 and, for aught I know, there they wiU lie till they rot, 
 (Prov. X. 7.) But let me go on in my tale. As I was thus 
 musing, as I said, there was one in very pleasant attire, but 
 old, who presented herself unto me, and oflfered me three 
 things ; to wit, her body, her pm'se, and her bed. Now, the
 
 304 THE pilgrim's progress. 
 
 truth is, I was both a-weary and sleepy ; I am also as poor 
 as an owlet, and that, perhaps, the witch knew. Well, I 
 repulsed her once and twice, but she piit 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 
 Madame Bubble, or she told me it was Madame Bubble. This 
 
 thiB vain world. g^^ ^^ further from her : but she stiU fol- 
 lowed me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you saw, 
 to my knees ; and with hands lift up, and cries, I prayed to 
 him that had said he would help. So, just as you came up, 
 the gentlewoman went her way. Then I continued to give 
 thanks for this my great deliverance ; for I verily beheve 
 she intended no good, biit 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-fast. Perhaps you have done both. 
 
 Hon. Madame Bubble ! is she not a tall, comely dame, 
 something of a swarthy complexion ? 
 
 Stand-fast. Right, you hit it, she is just such a one. 
 
 Hon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a 
 smile at the end of a sentence ? 
 
 Stand-fast. You fall right upon it again, for these are her 
 very actions. 
 
 Hon. Doth she not weai- a great purse by her side ; and 
 is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that 
 was her heart's delight ? 
 
 Stand-fast. It is just so ; had she stood by all this while, 
 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-heart. This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue of 
 
 11
 
 TUE pilgrim's progress. 305 
 
 her sorceries tliat this ground is enchanted. Whoever doth 
 lay their head down in her lap, had as good 
 lay it down upon that block over which the 
 axe doth hang ; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, 
 are counted the enemies of God, (James iv. 4 ; 1 John ii. 15.) 
 This is she that maiutaiaeth in their splendour all those that 
 are the enemies of pUgrims. Yea, this is she that hath 
 bought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a great 
 gossipper ; she is always, both she and her daughters, at one 
 pilgrim's heels or another, now commending and then pre- 
 ferring the excellencies of this Hfe. She is a bold and im- 
 pudent slut ; she wiU talk with any man. She always 
 laugheth poor pUgrims to scorn ; but highly commends the 
 rich. If there be one cunning to get money iu a place, she 
 will speak well of him from house to house ; she loveth ban- 
 queting 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 hei\ She 
 has her times and open places of cheating ; and she wiU say 
 and avow it, that none can shew a good comparable to hers. 
 She promiseth to dwell with children's children, if they will 
 but love and make much of her. She will cast out of her 
 purse gold like dust, in some j)laces, 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 m.ost that think best of 
 her. She will promise to some crowns and kingdoms, if 
 they will but take her advice ; yet many hath she brought 
 to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. 
 
 Stand-fast. Oh, said Stand-fast, what a mercy is it that I 
 did resist ! for whither might she have drawn me ! 
 
 Great-heart, Whither ! nay, none but God knows whither. 
 But, in general, to be sure, she would have drawn thee into 
 "many foohsh and hurtful lusts, which drown men in de- 
 struction and perdition," (1 Tim. vi. 9.) 
 
 It was she that set Absalom against his father, and Jero- 
 boam against his master. It was she that persuaded Judas 
 
 V
 
 306 THE PILaKni's PROGRESg. 
 
 to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demas to forsake 
 the godly pilgrim's life ; none can teU of the mischief that 
 she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and sub- 
 jects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighboiir and 
 neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, betwixt a man and 
 himself, betwixt the flesh and the heart. 
 
 Wherefore, good Master Stand-fast, be aa your name is, 
 and " when you have done all, stand." 
 
 At this discourse there was, among the Pilgrims, a mixture 
 of joy and trembling ; but at length they brake out, and 
 gang — 
 
 " What danger is the pilgrim in J 
 How many are his foes I 
 How many ways there arc to sic 
 No living mortal knows. 
 
 "Some of the ditch shy are, yetoan 
 Lie tumbling in the mire ; 
 Some, though they shun the frying-pan, 
 Do leap into the fire." 
 
 After this, I beheld until they were come unto the Land 
 of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and 
 day. 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 Celes- 
 tial Country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with 
 any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them 
 here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually 
 sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep ; and yet they 
 received as much refreshing as if they had slept their sleep 
 ever so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked 
 iu the streets was, More pUgrims are come to town. And 
 another would answer, saying. And so many went over the 
 water, and were let in at the golden gates to-day. They 
 would cry again. There is now a legion of Shining Ones just 
 come to town, by which we know that there are more 
 pilgrimB upon the road; for here they oome to wait for
 
 THE PILGKIM's PROGRESS. 307 
 
 tliem, and to comfort tliem 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 de- 
 lighted with celestial visions ! In this land they heard 
 nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelled nothing, tasted 
 nothing, that was offensive to their stomach or mind ; only 
 when they tasted of the water of the river over which they 
 were to go, they thought that tasted a ^^^^^ ^.^^^^ ^^ 
 
 little bitterish to the palate, but it proved the flesh but sweet 
 
 ■^ ^ to the soul, 
 
 sweeter when it was down. 
 
 In this place there was a record kept of the names of them 
 that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous 
 acts that they had done. It was here also much discoursed, 
 how the river to some had had its flowings, ^^^^^ ,^^^ j^^ ^^,^, 
 and what ebbings it has had while others ingsandflowingaUke 
 have gone over. It has been in a manner 
 dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks for others. 
 
 In this place the children of the town would go into the 
 King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the Pilgrims, and 
 bring them to them with much affection. Here also grew 
 camphire, with spikenard, and saffron, calamus, and cinna- 
 mon, with all its trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, 
 with aU 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 messenger of 
 
 a post come from the Celestial City, with death sent to Chris- 
 matter of great importance to one Christiana, 
 the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So inquiry was made for 
 her, and the house was found out where she was ; so the post 
 presented her with a letter, the contents 
 whereof were, " Hail, good woman ! I bring 
 thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth 
 that thou shouldest stand in his presence, in clothes of im- 
 mortality, within these ten days,"
 
 308 THE pilgrim's pkogress. 
 
 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 
 
 How welcome is hid her make haste to be gone. The token 
 
 death to them that tj_i • j t t • , t 
 
 have nothing to do "^^^ ^^ arrow With a pomt sharpened with 
 
 but to die. love, let easily into her heart, which by- 
 
 degrees wrought so effectually with her, that at the time 
 appointed she must be gone. 
 
 When Chi'istiana saw that her time was come, and that 
 she was the first of this company that was to go over, she 
 called for Mr Great-heart, her guide, and told him how 
 matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the 
 news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. 
 Her speech to her Then she bid that he should give advice how 
 s^'^^- all things should be prepared for her jour- 
 
 ney. So he told her, saying, thus and thus it must be j aud 
 w^e that svirvive will accompany you to the river-side. 
 
 Then she called for her children, and gave them her bless- 
 ing, and told them, that she yet read with 
 comfort the mark that was set in their fore- 
 heads, 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 her 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 shewed yourself true-hearted; "be faithful imto 
 death," and my Eling will give you "a crown of hfe." I 
 would also entreat you to have an eye to my children ; and 
 if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. 
 
 Formv daughters, my sons' wives, they have 
 To Mr Stand-fast. , . ■.. T ^ \ j! ict,- - ./ 
 
 been faithful, and a lulfillmg of the pro- 
 mise upon them will be their end. But she gave Mr Standi 
 fast a ring. 
 
 Then she called for old Mr Honest, and said of him, "Be- 
 hold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." Tlien
 
 THE pilgrim's peogeess. 309 
 
 said he, I wisli you a fair day when you set out for Mount 
 
 Zion, and shall be glad to see that you so 
 
 4.1,- J C^jr.i.1, % TooldHonest. 
 
 over the river dry-shod. But she answered, 
 
 Come wet, come dry, I long to be" gone; for, however the 
 
 weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I 
 
 come there to sit down and rest me and dry me. 
 
 Then came in that good man Mr Ready -to-halt to see her. 
 So she said to him. Thy travel hither has rp<j ji^ Eeady-to- 
 been with difSciiltyj but that will make '^'^"• 
 
 thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready; for at an 
 hour when you think not, the messenger may come 
 
 After him came in Mr Despondency, and his daughter 
 Much-afraid, to whom she said, You ought to Despondency 
 with thankfulness for ever to remember awl ^is daughter. 
 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, that 
 thou mightest live in the light of the living 
 for ever, and see thy King with comfort ; only I advise thee 
 to repent thee of thine aptness to fear and doubt of his 
 goodness, before he sends for thee ; lest thou shouldest, when 
 he comes, be forced to stand before him, for that fault, with 
 blushing. 
 
 Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So 
 the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But, 
 behold, all the banks beyond the river were ^er last day and 
 fuU of horses and chariots, which were come mannerofdepartme. 
 down from above to accompany her to the city gate. So she 
 came forth, and entered the river, with a beckon of farewell 
 to those that followed her to the river-side. The last words 
 that she was heard to say here were, I come, Lord, to be 
 with thee, and bless thee 
 
 So her children and friends returned to theii* place, for 
 that those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of
 
 310 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS, 
 
 tlieii- sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the 
 gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian 
 had done before her. 
 
 At her departure her children wept; but ]Mr Great-heart 
 and Mr Valiant played upon the weU-tuned cymbal and harp 
 for joy. So aU departed to their respective places. 
 
 In process of time there came a post to the town again, 
 Eeady-to-halt ^^^ ^^^ business was with Mr E,eady-to- 
 summoued. j^^lt. So he inquired him out, and said to 
 him, I am come to thee in the name of Him whom thou hast 
 loved and followed, though upon crutches ; and my message 
 is to teU thee, that he expects thee at his table to sup with 
 him, in his kingdom, the next day after Easter; wherefore 
 prepare thyself for this journey. 
 
 Then he also gave him a token that he was a true mes- 
 senger, saying, I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed 
 thy silver cord, (Ec. xii. 6.) 
 
 After this Llr Eeady-to-halt called for his fellow-pilgi-ims, 
 
 and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shaU surely 
 
 visit you also. So he desired Mr Vahant to make his will; 
 
 and because he had nothing to bequeath to them that 
 
 should survive him but his crutches and 
 TpTQ misGs 
 
 his good wishes, therefore thus he said. 
 
 These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my 
 steps, with a hundred warm wishes that he 
 may prove better than I have done. 
 Then he thanked Mr Great-heart for his conduct and kind- 
 ness, and so addressed hinaseK to his journey. When he 
 came at the brink of the river, he said, Now I shall have no 
 more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and 
 horses for me to ride on. The last words he was heard 
 
 to say was, Welcome life ! So he went 
 His last words. , . 
 
 his way. 
 
 After this, Mr Feeble-mind had tidings brought him, that 
 Feeble-mind t^® po^t soimded his hom at his chamber- 
 Bummoned. ^opj,. Then he came in, and told him, say- 
 ing, I am come to tell thee that thy master hath need of
 
 THE PILGEIM's PROGEESS. 311 
 
 thee ; and that, in veiy little time, thou must behoid Lis 
 face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of 
 my message, "Those that look out of the windows shall be 
 darkened," (Ec. xii. 3.) 
 
 Then Mr Feeble -mind called for his friends, and told them 
 what errand had been brought unto hi m , and what token ho 
 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 wUl? As 
 for my feeble mind, that I will leave behind me, for that, I 
 have no need of that in the place whether I go. Nor is it 
 worth bestowing upon the poorest pUgrim ; wherefore, when 
 I am gone, I desire that you, Mi- Valiant, would bury it in 
 a dunghill. This done, and the day being come in which ho 
 was to depart, he entered the river as the ^^j^^^^^^ 
 rest. His last words were, Hold out, faith 
 and patience. So he went over to the other side. 
 
 When days had many of them passed away, Mr Despond- 
 ency was sent for; for a post was come, Mr Despondency's 
 and brought this message to him : Trembling Bummons. 
 man, these are to summon thee to be ready with thy King 
 by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy for thy deliverance 
 from aU thy doub tings. 
 
 And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take 
 this for a proof j so he gave him the grasshopper to be a 
 burden unto him, (Ec. xii. 5.) Now, Mr His daughter goes 
 Despondency's daughter, whose name was *"°* 
 
 Much-afraid, said, when she heard what was done, that she 
 would go with her father. Then Mr Despondency said to 
 his friends. Myself and my daughter, you know what we 
 have been, and how troublesomely we have behaved our- 
 eelves in every company. My wiU and my 
 daughter's is, that our desponds and slavish 
 fears be by no man ever received, from the day of our de- 
 parture, for ever J for I know that after my death they wiU 
 offer themselves to others. For, to be plain with you, they 
 are ghosts the which w« entertained when we first began to
 
 312 THE pilgrim's peogbess. 
 
 be pilgrims, and could never sliake them ofif after ; and they 
 will walk about and seek entertainment of the pilgrims ; but, 
 for our sakes, shut ye the doors upon them. 
 
 When the time was come for them to depart, they went to 
 
 the brink of the river. The last words of 
 Ilia last words. ,, ,-, , -r, ■,■,•■,, i 
 
 Mr Desponaency were, Farewell night, wel- 
 come day. His daughter went through the river sLngLng, 
 but none could understand what she said. 
 
 Then it came to pass, a while after, that there was a post 
 Mr Honest ^^ *^^ town that inquired for Mr Honest. 
 Bummoned. gg j^g came to his house where he was, and 
 delivered to his hand these lines : Thou art commanded to 
 be ready against this day seven-night, to present thyself be- 
 fore thy Lord, at his Father's house. And for a token that 
 my message is true, " All thy daughters of music shall be 
 brought low," (Ec. xii. 4.) Then IVIr Honest called for his 
 friends, and said imto them, I die, but shall 
 
 Hg ludjkfis DO will 
 
 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 him- 
 self to go over the river. Now the river at that time over- 
 flowed the banks in some places ; but Mr Honest in his life- 
 
 „ , . time had spoken to one Good-conscience to 
 
 Good -conscience f ,.,, ,., 
 
 helps Mr nonest meet hmi there, the which he also did, and 
 
 lent him his hand, and so helped him over. 
 
 The last words of Mr honest were, Grace reigns. So he left 
 
 the world. 
 
 After this it was noised abroad, that Mr Valiant-for-truth 
 
 jlr Valiant ^^^ taken with a summons by the same post 
 
 siunmoned. ^s the other; and had this for a token that 
 
 the summons was true, " That his pitcher was broken at the 
 
 fountain," (Ec. xii. 6.) When he understood it, he called 
 
 for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am 
 
 going to my Father's ; and though with great difficulty I am 
 
 got hither, yet now I do not repent me of 
 
 '^ ■ aU the trouble I have been at to arrive 
 
 where T am. My sword I give to him tliat shall succeed me
 
 THE pilgrim's peogeess, 313 
 
 in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him tliat can 
 get it. My marks and scars I carry with, me, to be a wit- 
 ness for me, that I have fought his battles who now will be 
 my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was 
 come, many accompanied him to the river-side, into which 
 
 as he went he said, " Death, where is thy „ 
 
 .- „« A 1 i_ J. J J 1. His last words, 
 
 stmg ? And as he went down deeper, he 
 
 said, "Grave, where is thy victory?" So he passed over, 
 and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side. 
 
 Then there came forth a summons for Mr Stand-fast — this 
 Mr Stand-fast was he that the rest of the J^IJ. stand-fast is 
 Pdgrims found upon his knees in the En- summoned. 
 chanted Ground — for the post brought it him open in his 
 hands. The contents whereof were, that he must prepare 
 for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he 
 should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr Stand- 
 fast was put into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you 
 need not doubt the truth of my message, for here is a token 
 of the truth thereof : " Thy wheel is broken at the cistern," 
 (Ec. xii. 6.) Then he called xmto him Mr He calls for 
 Great-heart, who was their guide, and said ^^ Great-heart, 
 imto him. Sir, although it was not my ha]3 to be much in 
 your good company in the days of my pilgrimage ; yet, since 
 
 the time I knew you, you have been profit- 
 
 _, " T !• IT His speech to Lim. 
 
 able to me. When I came from home, I 
 
 left behind me a wife and five small children; let me entreat 
 you, at your return (for I know that yon will go and return 
 to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a con- 
 ductor to more of the holy pilgrims) that you send to my 
 family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath or 
 shall happen imto me. Tell them, more- His errand to his 
 over, of my happy arrival to this place, famUy. 
 
 and of the present [and] late blessed condition that I am in. 
 Tell them also of Christian, and Christiana his wife, and 
 how she and her children came after her husband. TeU 
 them also of what a ha^ipy end she made, and whither she 
 has gone. I have little or nothing to send to my family,
 
 BU 
 
 THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 
 
 His last words. 
 
 except it be i)rayers and tears for tliemj of wliich it ■will 
 suffice if thou acquaint them, if peradventure they may pre- 
 vail. 
 
 When Mr Stand-fast had thus set things in order, and the 
 time being come for him to haste him away, he also went 
 down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time 
 in the river ; wherefore Mr Stand-fast, when he was about 
 half-way in, stood a while, and talked to his companions that 
 had waited upon him thither; and he said. This river has 
 been a terror to many; yea, the thoughts 
 of it also have often frightened me. Now, 
 methinks, I stand easy, my foot is fixed upon that . upon 
 which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the cove- 
 nant stood, while Israel went over this Jordan, (Jos, iii. 17.) 
 The waters, indeed, are to the palate bitter, and to the 
 stomach cold ; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and 
 of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie 
 as a glowing coal at my heart. 
 
 I see myseK now at the end of my journey, my toilsome 
 days are ended. I am going now to see that head that was 
 crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon 
 for me. 
 
 I have f oi-merly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go 
 ■where I shall hve by sight, and shaU be with him in whose 
 company I dehght 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 wox-d I did use to 
 gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. 
 •'He has held me, and hath kej)t me from mine iniquities; 
 yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his way." 
 
 Now, while he was thus in discoui'se, his countenance 
 changed, his strong man bowed imder him; and after he had 
 
 II
 
 THE pilgkim's peogeess. 315 
 
 said, Take me, for I come imto tliee, lie ceased to be seen of 
 them. 
 
 But glorious it was to see liow tlie open region was filled 
 with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with 
 singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the 
 Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the 
 beautiful gate of the city. 
 
 As for Christian's chUdi-en, the fonr boys that Christiana 
 brought with her, with their wives and children, I did not 
 stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I 
 came away, 1 heard one say that they were yet alive, and so 
 would be for the increase of the cnuRCii in that place where 
 they were, for a time. 
 
 Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those 
 tliu'ii desire it an account of what I here am silent about. 
 Meantime, I bid my reader 
 
 Adieu.
 
 ■
 
 THB 
 
 HOLY WAE, 
 
 MADE BY 
 
 SHADDAI UPON DIABOLUS, 
 
 FOB 
 
 THE REGAINING OF THE METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD - 
 
 OK, THF LOSING ANB TAKING AGAIN OF THK 
 
 TOWN OF MANSOUL.
 
 TO TEE READER. 
 
 'Tis strange to me, that they that love to tell 
 Things done of old, yea, and that do excel 
 Their equals in historiology. 
 Speak not of Mansoul's wars,, but let them lie 
 Dead, like old fables, or such worthless things, 
 That to the reader no advantaga»brings : 
 When men, let them make what they will their own, 
 Till they know this, are to themselves unknown. 
 
 Of stories, I well know, there 's divers sorts. 
 Some foreign, some domestic ; and reports 
 Are therefore made as fancy leads the writers : 
 (By books a man may guess at the inditers.) 
 
 Some will again of that which never was. 
 Nor will be, feign (and that without a cause) 
 Such matter, raise such mountains, tell such things 
 Of men, of laws, of countries, and of kings ; 
 And in their story seem to be so sage. 
 And with such gravity clothe every page. 
 That though their frontispiece says aJl is vain, 
 Yet to their way disciples they obtain. 
 
 But, readers, I have somewhat else to do. 
 Than with vain stories thus to trouble you ; 
 What here I say some men do know so well, tt,,? 
 
 They can with tears and joy the story tell. Christians. 
 
 The town of Mansoid is well known to many, 
 Nor are her troubles doubted of by any 
 That are acquainted with those Histories The 
 
 That Mansoul and her wars anatomise. Swipturon
 
 320 TO THE READER. 
 
 Then lend tliine ear to what I do relate, 
 Touching the town of Mansoul and her state : 
 How she was lost, took captive, made a slave ; 
 And how against him set, that should her save ; 
 Yea, how by hostile ways she did oppose 
 Her Lord, and with his enemy did close. 
 For they are true : he that will them deny, 
 Must needs the best of records vilify. 
 For my part, I myself was in the town, 
 Both when 'twas set up, and when pulling down. 
 I saw Diabolus in his possession. 
 And Mansoul also under his oppression. 
 Yea, I was there when she own'd him for lord, 
 And to him did submit with one accord. 
 
 When Mansoul iramjjled upon things divine, 
 And wallowed in filth as doth a swine ; 
 When she betook herself unto her arms, 
 His Fought her Emmanuel, despised his charms ; 
 counsels, u^eu j -^yras there, and did rejoice to see 
 Diabolus and Mansoiil so agree. 
 
 Let no men, then, count me a fable -maker. 
 Nor make my name or credit a partaker 
 Of their derision : what is here in view, 
 Of mine own knowledge, I dare say is true. 
 
 I saw the Prince's armed men come down 
 By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town ; 
 I saw the captains, heard the trumpets soimd, 
 And how his forces cover'd aU the ground. 
 Yea, how they set themselves in battle-'ray, 
 I shall remember to my dying day. 
 
 I saw the colours waving in the wind. 
 And they within to mischief how combined 
 To ruin Mansoul, and to make away 
 Her BouL Her primum mobile without delay. 
 
 I saw the mounts cast up against the town. 
 And how the shngs were placed to beat it down ; 
 I heard the stones fly whizzing by mine earS; 
 
 1
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 321 
 
 (What longer kept in mind than got in fears ?) 
 I heard them fall, and saw what work they made, 
 And how old Mors did cover with his shade 
 The face of Mansoid ; and I heard her cry, 
 " Woe worth the day, in dying I shall die ! " 
 
 I saw the battering-rams, and how they play'd 
 To beat ope Ear-gate ; and I was afraid 
 Not only Ear-gate, but the very town 
 Would by those battering-rams be beaten down. 
 I saw the fights, and heard the captains shout. 
 And in each battle saw who faced about ; 
 I saw who wounded were, and who were slain ; 
 And who, when dead, would come to life again. 
 I heard the cries of those that wounded were, 
 (While others fought like men bereft of fear,) 
 And while the cry, " Kill, kill," was in mine ears, 
 The gutters ran, not so with blood as tears. 
 Indeed, the captains did not always fight, 
 But then they would molest us day and night ; 
 Their cry, "Up, fall on, let us take the town," 
 Kept us from sleeping, or from lying down. 
 
 I was there when the gates were broken ope. 
 And saw how Mansoul then was stripp'd of hope, 
 I saw the captains march into the town. 
 How there they fought, and did their foea cut dowa 
 
 I heard the Prince bid Boanerges go 
 Up to the castle, and there seize his foe ; 
 And saw him and his feUows bring him down 
 In chains of great contempt quite through the town. 
 
 I saw Emmanuel, when he possess'd 
 His town of Mansoul ; and how greatly blest 
 A town his gallant town of Mansoul was. 
 When she received his pardon, loved his laws. 
 
 When the Diabolonians were caught, 
 When tried, and when to execution brought, 
 Then I was there ; yea, I was standing by 
 When Mansoid did the rebels crucify. 
 
 Death. 
 
 LuatE. 
 
 X
 
 322 TO THE READER. 
 
 I also saw MansoiU clad all in wlute, 
 And heard her Prince call her his heart's deliglit. 
 I saw him put upon her chains of gold, 
 And rings, and bracelets, goodly to behold. 
 
 What shall I say ? I heard the people's cries, 
 And saw the Prince wipe tears from Mansonl's eyea 
 I heard the groans, and saw the joy of many : 
 Tell you of all, 1 neither wiU, nor can I. 
 But by what here I say, you well may see, 
 That Mansoul's matchless wars no fables be. 
 
 Mansoul, the desire of both princes was : 
 One keep his gain would, t' other gain his loss. 
 Diabolus would cry, " The town is mine ! " 
 Emmanuel would plead a right divine 
 Unto his Mansoul : then to blows they go, 
 And Mansoul cries, " These wars will me undo." 
 
 Mansoul ! her wars seem'd endless in her eyes ; 
 She 's lost by one, becomes another's prize ; 
 And he again that lost her last would swear, 
 '* Have her I will, or her in pieces tear." 
 
 Mansoul ! it was the very seat of war ; 
 Wherefore her troubles greater were by far 
 Than only where the noise of war is heard. 
 Or where the shaking of a sword is fear'd ; 
 Or only where small skirmishes are fought, 
 Or where the fancy fighteth with a thought. 
 »She saw the swords of fighting men made red, 
 And heard the cries of those with them wounded : 
 Must not her frights, then, be much more by 
 
 far 
 Than theirs that to such doings strangers are ? 
 Or theii's that hear the beating of a drum, 
 But not made fly for fear from house and home t 
 
 Mansoul not only heard the trumpets sound. 
 Bat saw her gallants gasping on the groimd : 
 Wherefore we must not think that she could rest 
 With them, whose greatest earnest is but jest ;
 
 TO THE READER. 323 
 
 Or wliere the blust'ring threat'ning of great wars 
 Do end in parleys, or in wording jars. 
 
 Mansoul ! lier miglity wars, tliey did portend 
 Her weal or woe, and that world without end : 
 Wherefore she must be more concern'd than they 
 Whose fears begin and end the selfsame day j 
 Or where none other harm doth come to him 
 That is engaged, but loss of life or limb, 
 As all must needs confess that now do dweil 
 In Universe, and can this story tell. 
 
 Count me not, then, with them that, to amaze 
 The people, set them on the stars to gaze, 
 Insinuating with much confidence, 
 That each of them is now the residence 
 Of some brave creatures : yea, a world they will 
 Have in each star, though it be past their skill 
 To make it manifest to any man. 
 That reason hath, or teU his fingers can. 
 
 But I have too long held thee in the porch, 
 And kept thee in the sunshine with a torch. 
 Well, now go forward, step within the door. 
 And there behold five himdred times much more 
 Of aU sorts of such inward rarities . 
 As please the mind wiU, and wil! fded the eyes. 
 With those, which, if a Christian, thou wilt see 
 Not small, but things of greatest moment be. 
 
 Nor do thou go to work without my key ; 
 (In mysteries men soon do lose their way;) 
 And also turn it right, if thou wouldst luiow 
 My riddle, and wouldst with my heifer plough : 
 It lies there in the window. Fare thee well, rp^g 
 My next may b3 to ring thy passing-bell. margent 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN.
 
 ^ 
 
 II
 
 AN 
 
 ADYERTISEMENT TO THE EEADER. 
 
 Some say the " Pilgi-im's Progress " is uot niiue, 
 Insinuating as if I would sliine 
 In name and fame by tlie wortli of another, 
 Like some made rich by robbing of their broth et j 
 Or that so fond I am of being sire, 
 I '11 father bastards ; or, if need require, 
 I 'U tell a lie in print to get applause. 
 I scorn it : John such dirt-heap never was. 
 Since God converted him. Let this suffice 
 To shew why I my "Pilgrim" patronise. 
 
 It came from mine own heart, so to my hea/3; 
 And thence into my fingers trickled : 
 Then to my pen, from whence immediately 
 On paper I did dribble it daintily. 
 
 Manner and matter, too, was all mine own ; 
 Nor was it unto any mortal known, 
 TiU I had done it ; nor did any then 
 By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen 
 Add five words to it, or wrote half a line 
 Thereof : the whole, and every whit is mine. 
 
 Also for THIS, thine eye is now upon, 
 The matter in this manner came from none 
 But the same heart, and head, fingers, and pen, 
 As did the other. Witness all good men 
 For none in all the world, without a lie. 
 Can say that this is mine, excepting I.
 
 3^-'^ 
 
 io 
 
 AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THK HEADER. 
 
 I write not this of any ostentation, 
 "Nor 'cause I seek of men their commendation. 
 I do it to keep them from such surmise, 
 As tempt them will my name to scandalise. 
 Witness my name, if anagram'd to thee, 
 The letters make — " Nu hony in a B." 
 
 n
 
 A EELATION 
 
 THE HOLY WAK, 
 
 N my travels aa I walked through many region.^ 
 aud coimtries, it was my chance to happen into 
 that famous continent of Universe. A very 
 lai'ge and spacious country it is: it lieth be- 
 tween the two poles, and just amidst the four points of the 
 heavens. It is a place well watered, and richly adorned with 
 hills and valleys, bravely situate, and for the most pai't, at 
 least where I was, very fruitful, also well peopled, and a very 
 sweet air. 
 
 The peox^le are not all of one complexion, nor yet of one 
 language, mode, or way of religion, but differ as much as, it 
 is said, do the planets themselves. Some are right, and some 
 are wrong, even as it happeneth to be in lesser regions. 
 
 In this coimtry, as I said, it was my lot to travel ; and 
 there travel I did, and that so long, even a natural state 
 tiU I learned much of their mother tongue, pleasing to the flesh. 
 together with the customs aud manners of them among 
 whom I was. And, to speak truth, I was much dehghted 
 to see and hear many things which I saw and heard among 
 them ; yea, I had, to be sure, even lived 
 and died a native among them, (so was I 
 taken with them and their doings,) Jiad not my Master sent
 
 328 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 for me home to hia house, there to do businesa for him, and 
 
 to oversee business done. 
 
 Now, there is hi this gallant coimtry of Universe a fair and 
 
 delicate town, a corporation called Mansoul ; 
 Man. , ..,,.,,. . , . 
 
 a town for its buildings so cunou3, for its 
 
 Bituation so commodious, for its privileges so advant^eous, 
 
 (I mean with reference to its origin, ) that I may say of it, 
 
 as was said before of the continent in which it is placed, 
 
 There is not its equal under the whole heaven. 
 
 Ab to the situation of this town, it lieth just between the 
 
 two worlds; and the first founder and builder of it, so 
 
 far as by the best and most authentic 
 
 Scriptures. records I can gathei-, was one Shaddai ; and 
 
 ^^Get!T.'i6.'^' ^® ^^il* ^* f^^ ^i3 *^^™ dehght. He made, 
 it the mirror and glory of all that he made, 
 even the top-piece, beyond anjrthing else that he did in 
 „ . , that country. Yea, so goodly a town was 
 
 Mansoul wneu lu-st buut, that it is said by 
 some, the gods, at the setting up thereof, 
 came down to see it, and sang for joy. And as he made 
 it goodly to behold, so also mighty to have dominion over all 
 the country round about. Yea, all were commanded to 
 acknowledge Mansoul for their metropolitan, all were en- 
 joined to do homage to it. Ay, the town itself had positive 
 commission and power from her King to demand service of 
 all, and also to subdue any that any ways denied to do it. 
 There was reared up in the midst of this town a most 
 famoas and stately palace ; for strength, it 
 might be called a castle ; for pleasantness, 
 a paradise; for largeness, a place so copious as to contain all 
 the world. This place the King Shaddai 
 intended but for himself alone, and not 
 another with him; partly because of his own delights, and 
 partly because he would not that the terror of strangers 
 should be upon the town. This place Shaddai made also a, 
 garrison of, but committed the keeping of it only to the men 
 of the town. •
 
 TfiE HOLY WAK. 329 
 
 The walls of the town were well built, yea, so fast aud 
 
 firm were they knit and compact together, ^^6 powers of 
 
 that, had it not been for the townsmen the soul. 
 
 themselves, they could not have been shaken or broken for 
 
 ever. For here lav the excellent wisdom of 
 
 TliG boclv 
 him that btulded Mansoid, that the walls 
 
 could never be broken down nor htu't by the most mighty 
 adverse potentate, unless the townsmen gave consent thereto. 
 This famous town of Mansoid had five gates, in at which 
 to come, out at which to go ; and these were made likewise 
 answerable to the walls, to wit, impregnable, and such as 
 could never be opened nor forced but by the will and leave 
 of those within. The names of the gates were these : Ear- 
 gate, Eye-gate, Mouth-gate, Nose-gate, and 
 ° . , The five senses. 
 
 Feel-gate. 
 
 Other things there were that belonged to the town of 
 Mansoid, which if you adjoin to these, will yet give further 
 demonstration to all, of the glory and strength of the i>lace. 
 It had always a sufficiency of provision The state of 
 within its walls; it had the best, most Mausoui at first. 
 wholesome, and excellent law, that then was extant in the 
 world. There was not a rascal, rogue, or traitorous jierson 
 then within its walls : they were all true men, and fast 
 joined together ; and this, you know, is a great matter. 
 And to all these, it had always, (so long as it had the good- 
 ness to keej) true to Sliaddai the King,) his countenance, his 
 protection, and it was his delight, &c. 
 
 Well, upon a time, thei-e was one Diabolus, a mighty 
 giaut, made an assault upon this famous 
 town of Mansoid to take it, and make it his 
 own habitation. This giaut was king of the blacks, and a 
 most raving prince he was. We will, if you gimiers, the faUen 
 please, first discourse of the origin of this angels. 
 
 Diabolus, and then of his taking of this famous town of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 This Diabolus is indeed a great and mighty prince, and 
 yet both poor and beggarly. As to his origin, he was at
 
 330 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 first one of the servants of King Shaddai, made, and taken 
 The origin of ^^^ P^* ^7 1^™ "1*0 most high and mighty 
 Diabolus. place; yea, was put into such principali- 
 ties as belonged to the best of his territories and domin- 
 ions. This Diabolus was made " son of the 
 morning," and a brave place he had of it: 
 it brought him much glory, and gave him much brightness, 
 ail income that might have contented his Luciferian heart, 
 had it not been insatiable, and enlarged as hell itself. 
 
 Well, he seeing himself thus exalted to greatness and 
 honour, and raging in his miud for higher state and de- 
 gree, what doth he but begins to think with himself how 
 he might be set up as lord over all, and have the sole power 
 2 Peter ii. 4. imder Shaddai. (Now that did the King 
 Jude6. reserve for his Son, yea, and had already 
 
 bestowed it upon him.) Wherefore he first consults with 
 himself what had best to be done ; and then breaks his mind 
 to some other of his companions, to the -which they also 
 agreed. So, in fine, they came to this issue, that they shoidd 
 make an attempt upon the King's Son to destroy him, that 
 the inheritance might be theirs. Well, to be short, the 
 treason, as I said, was concluded, the time appointed, the 
 word given, the rebels rendezvoused, and the assault at- 
 tempted. Now the King and his Son being all and always 
 eye, could not but discern all passages in his dominions; and 
 he, having always love for his Son as for himself, could not 
 at what he saw but be greatly provoked and oiFended : where- 
 fore what does he, but takes them in the very nick and first 
 trip that they made towards their design, convicts them of 
 the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy that they had 
 devised, and now attempted to put into practice, and casts 
 them altogether out of aU place of trust, benefit, honour, and 
 preferment. This done, he banishes them the court, turns 
 them down into the horrible pits, as fast bound in chains, 
 never more to expect the least favour from his hands, but to 
 abide the judgment that he had appointed, and that for 
 ever.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 331 
 
 Now they being thus cast out of all place of trust, profit, 
 and honour, and also knowing that they had lost their 
 prince's favour for ever, (being banished his court, and cast 
 down to the horrible pits,) you may be sure they woidd now 
 add to their former pride what malice and rage agamst Shad- 
 dai, and against his Son, they coidd. Wherefore, roving and 
 ranging in much fury from place to place, 
 if, perhaps, they might find something that 
 was the King's, by spoiling of that, to revenge themselves on 
 him) at last they happened into this spacious country of 
 Universe, and steer their coiu'se towards the town of Man- 
 soul ; and considering that that town was one of the chief 
 works and delights of King Shaddai, what do they but, after 
 counsel taken, make an assault upon that. I say, they 
 knew that Mansoul belonged unto Shaddai ; for they were 
 there when he built it and beautified it for himself. So 
 when they had found the place, they shouted horribly for 
 joy, and roared on it as a lion upon the prey, saying, "ISTow 
 we have found the prize, and how to be revenged on King 
 Shaddai for what he hath done to us." So they sat down 
 and called a council of war, and considered with themselves 
 what ways and methods they had best to engage in for the 
 winning to themselves this famous town of Mausoid, and 
 tliese four things were then propoimded to be considered of. 
 
 First, Whether they had best all of them to shew theui- 
 selves in this design to the town of Mansoul, 
 
 Secondly, Whether they had best to go and sit down 
 against Mansoid in their now ragged and beggai-ly guise. 
 
 Thirdly, Whetlier they had best shew to Mansoid their 
 intentions, and what design they came about, or whetlier to 
 assaidt it with words and ways of deceit. 
 
 Fourthly, Whether they had not best to some of their 
 companions to give out private orders to take the advantage, 
 if they see one or more of the principal townsmen, to shoot 
 them, if thereby they shall judge their cause and design will 
 the better be promoted. 
 
 1 . It was answered to the first of these jroposab m the
 
 332 THE HOLY WAS. 
 
 negative, to wit, that it •would not be best tbat all should 
 shew themselves before the town, because the appearance of 
 many of them might alarm and frighten the town; whereas a 
 few or but one of them was not so likely to do it. And to 
 enforce this advice to take place it was added fui'ther, that if 
 Mansoul was frighted, or did take the alann, "It is impos- 
 sible," said Diabolus, (for he spake now,) "that we shoidd 
 take the town: for that none can enter into it without its 
 own consent. Let, therefore, but few, or but one, assa^ult 
 Mansoid; and in mine opinion," said Diabolus, "let me be 
 he." Wherefore to this they all agreed. 
 
 2. And then to the second proposal they came, namely, 
 Whether they had best to go and sit down before Mansoul 
 in their now ragged and beggarly guise. To which it was 
 answered also in the negative. By no means ; and that be- 
 cause, though the town of Mansoul had been made to know, 
 and to have to do, before now, with things that are invisible, 
 they did never as yet see any of their fellow-creatures in so 
 sad and rascally condition as they ; and this was the advice 
 of that fierce Alecto. Then said ApoUyon, " The advice is 
 pertinent ; for even one of us appearing to them as we are 
 310W, must needs both beget and multiply such thoughts in 
 them as will both put them into a consternation of spirit, and 
 necessitate them to put themselves upon their guard. And 
 if so," said he, " then, as my Lord Diabolus said but now, it 
 is in vain for xis to think of takinsj the town." Then said 
 that mighty giant Beelzebub, "The advice that already is 
 given Is safe ; for though the men of Mansoul have seen such 
 things as we once were, yet hitherto they did never behold 
 such things as we now are; and it is best, in mine opinion, 
 to come upon them in such a^uise as is common to, and most 
 familiar among them." To this when they had consented, 
 the next thing to be considered was, in what shape, hue, or 
 guise Diabolus had best to shew himself when he went about 
 to make MansoiU his own. Then one said one thing, and 
 another the contrary. At last Lucifer answered, that, in his 
 cpiniou. it was best that his lordship shoidd assume the body
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 833 
 
 of some of those creatures that they of the town had clominioa 
 over; " for," quoth he, "these are not only familiar to them, 
 but being under them, they will never imagine that an at- 
 tempt should by them be made upon the town; and to blind 
 all, let him assume the body of one of those beasts that Man- 
 soul deems to be wiser than any of the rest." q^q jy j 
 This advice was applauded of all : so it was ^^- ^^- ^' ^• 
 determined that the giant Diabolsis should assume the dragon, 
 for that he was in those days as familiar with the town of 
 Mansoul as now is the bird with the boy ; for nothing that 
 was in its primitive state was at all amazing to them. Then 
 they proceeded to the third thing, which was, 
 
 3. Whether they had best to shew their intentions, or the 
 design of his coming to Mansoiil, or no. This also was an- 
 swered in the negative, because of the weight that was in 
 the former reasons, to wit, for that Mansoul were a strong 
 people, a strong people in a strong town, whose wall and 
 gates were impregnable, (to say nothing of their castle,) nor 
 can they by any means be won but by their own consent. 
 "Besides," said Legion, (for he gave answer to this,) "a 
 discovery of our intentions may make them send to their 
 Eang for aid; and if that be done, I know quickly what 
 time of day it will be with us. Therefore let us assault 
 them in all pretended fairness, eovering our intentions with 
 all manner of lies, flatteries, delusive words ; feigning things 
 that never will be, and promising that to them that they 
 shall never find. This is the way to win Mansoul, and to 
 make them of themselves open their gates to us; yea, and to 
 desire us too to come in to them. And the reason why I 
 think that this project will do is, because the peoiile of Man- 
 soul now are, every one, simple and innocent, all honest and 
 true ; nor do they as yet know what it is to be assaulted with 
 fraud, guile, and hypocrisy. They are strangers to lying and 
 dissembling lips; wherefore we cannot, if thus we be dis- 
 guised, by them at aU be discerned ; our lies shaU go for true 
 sayings, and our dissimulations for upright dealings. What 
 we promise them they -will in that believe us, especially if,
 
 334 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 in all our lies and feigned words, we pretend great love to 
 them, and tliat our design is only tlieir advantage and 
 honour." Now there was not one bit of a reply against 
 this; this went as current down, as doth the water down a 
 steep descent. Wherefore they go to consider of the last 
 proposal, which was, 
 
 4. Whether they had not best to give out orders to some 
 of their company to shoot some one or more of the principal of 
 the townsmen, if they judge that their cause may be promoted 
 thereby. This was carried in the affirmative, and the mau 
 that was designed by this stratagem to be destroyed was one 
 Mr Resistance, otherwise called Captain Resistance. And a 
 great man in Llansoul this Captain Resistance was, and a 
 man that the giant Diabolus and his band more feared than 
 they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides. Now who 
 should be the actor to do the murder ? That was the next, 
 and they appointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, to do it. 
 
 They thus having ended their council of war, rose up, and 
 essayed to do as they had determined ; they marched towards 
 Mansoiil, but all in a manner invisible, save one, only one ; 
 nor did he approach the town in his own likeness, but \mder 
 the shade, and in the body of the dragon. 
 
 So they drew up, and sat down before Ear-gate, for that 
 was the place of hearing for all without the town, as 'Eye- 
 gate was the place of perspection. So, as I said, he came up 
 with his train to the gate, and laid his ambuscado for Cap- 
 tain Resistance within bow-shot of the town. This done, 
 the giant ascended up close to the gate, and called to the 
 town of Mansoul for audience. Nor took he any with him 
 but one Ill-pause, who was his orator in all difficult matters. 
 Now, as I said, he being come uj) to the gate, (as the manner 
 of those times was,) sounded his trumpet for audience; at 
 which the chief of the town of Mansoul, such as my Lord 
 Innocent, my Lord Willbewill, my Lord Mayor, Mr Recorder, 
 and Captain Resistance, came down to the wall to see who 
 was there, and what was the matter. And my Lord Will- 
 bewill, when he had looked over and saw who stood at the
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 335 
 
 gate, demanded what he was, wherefore he was come, and 
 why he rouswd the town of Mansoul with so unusual a 
 sound. 
 
 Diabolus, t^ien, as if he had been a lamb, began his ora> 
 tion, and said, "Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, 
 I am, as you may perceive, no far dweller from you, but 
 near, and one that is bound by the King to do you my 
 homage and what service I can; wherefore, that I may be 
 faithful to myaeK, and to you, I have somewhat of concern 
 to impart unto you. Wherefore, grant me your audience, 
 and hear me i)atiently. And first, I wiU assure you, it is 
 not myself, but you — not mine, but your advantage that I 
 seek by what I now do, as will full well be made manifest, 
 by that I have opened my mind unto you. For, gentlemen, 
 I am (to tcU you the truth) come to shew you how you may 
 obtain great and ample deliverance from a bondage that, 
 unawares to yourselves, you are captivated and enslaved 
 mider." At this the town of Mansoiil began to prick up its 
 ears. And "What is it? Pray what is it ? " thought they. 
 And he said, "I have somewhat to say to you concerning 
 your King, concerning his law, and also touching yourselves. 
 Touching your King, I know he is great and potent ; but yet 
 all that he hath said to you is neither true nor yet for your 
 advantage, 1. It is not true, for that wherewith he hath 
 hitherto awed you, shall not come to pass, nor be fulfilled, 
 though you do the thing that he hath forbidden. But if 
 there was danger, what a slavery is it to live always in fear 
 of the greatest of punishments, for doing so Diabolus' subtlety 
 small and trivial a thing as eating of a Little ™^® "p °^ ^^^• 
 fruit is ! 2. Touching his laws, this I say further, they are 
 both unreasonable, intricate, and intolerable. Unreasonable, 
 aa was hinted before j for that the punishment is not pro- 
 portioned to the offence : there is great difference and dispro- 
 portion betwixt the life and an apple ; yet the one must go 
 for the other by the law of your Shaddai, But it is also 
 intricate, in that he saith, first, you may eat of all; and yet 
 after forbids the eating of one. And then, in the last place,
 
 336 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 it must needs be intolerable, forasmuch as that fruit which 
 you are forbidden to eat of (if you are forbidden any) is that, 
 and that alone, which is able, by your eating, to minister to 
 you a good as yet unknown by you. This is manifest by the 
 very name of the tree ; it is called the ' tree of knowledge of 
 good and evil j' and have you that knowledge as yet ? No, 
 no ; nor can you conceive how good, how pleasant, and how 
 much to be desired to make one wise it is, so long as you 
 stand by your King's commandment. Why should you be 
 holden in ignorance and blindness ? Why should you not be 
 enlarged in knowledge and understanding ? And now, O ye 
 inhabitants of the famous town of Mansoul, to speak more 
 particularly to yourselves, you are not a free people ! You 
 are kept both in bondage and slavery, and that by a grievous 
 threat ; no reason being annexed but, ' So I will have it ; so 
 it shall be.' And is it not grievous to think on, that that 
 very thing which you are forbidden to do, might you but do 
 it, would yield you both wisdom and honour ? for then your 
 eyes will be opened, and you shall be as gods. Now, since 
 this is thus," quoth he, "can you be kejit by any prince in 
 more slavery and in greater bondage than you are under this 
 day ? You are made underlings, and are wrapped up in in- 
 conveniences, as I have well made appear. For what bond- 
 age greater than to be kept in blindness ? Will not reason 
 tell you, that it is better to have eyes than to be without 
 them ? and so to be at liberty to be better than to be shut 
 up in a dark, and stinking cave ?" 
 
 And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words 
 to Mansoul, Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance, where he 
 stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in the head ; 
 so that he, to the amazement of the townsmen, and the 
 encouragement of Diabolus, fell down dead quite over the 
 AvaU. Now when Captain Resistance was dead, (and he was 
 the only man of war in the towii,) poor Mansoul waa wholly 
 left naked of courage, nor had she now any heart to resist. 
 But this was as the devil would have it. Then stood forth 
 he, Mr lU-pause, that Diabolus brought with him, who
 
 Captain Resist.ince shit cle-i.l hv Tisiphon> nt the gate' of trie i™.u./as towu 
 of Maiisoul.— /"cj: e 336.
 
 THE HOLY "WAB. 3S7 
 
 was his orator; and lie addressed liimself to speak to 
 the town of Mansoiil; the tenor of whose speech here 
 follows. 
 
 "Gentlemen," quoth he, "it is my master's happiness 
 that he has this day a quiet and teachable auditory; and 
 it is hoped by us that we shall prevail with you not to 
 cast off good advice. My master has a very great love for 
 you ; and although, as he very well knows, that he runs the 
 hazard of the anger of King Shaddai, yet love to you will 
 make him do more than that. Nor doth there need that a 
 word more should be spoken to confirm for truth what he 
 hath said ; there is not a word but carries with it self -evi- 
 dence in its bowels; the very name of the tree may put an 
 end to all controversy in this matter. I therefore, at this 
 time, shall only add this advice to you, under and by the 
 leave of my lord;" (and with that he made Diabolus a very 
 low congee;) "consider his words, look on the tree and the 
 promising fruit thereof ; remember also that yet you know 
 but little, and that this is the way to know more : and if 
 your reasons be not conquered to accept of such good counsel, 
 you are not the men that I took you to be." 
 
 But when the townsfolk saw that the tree was good for 
 food, and that it was pleasant to the eye, and a tree to be 
 desired to make one wise, they did as old Ill-pause advised; 
 they took and did eat thereof. Now this I should have told 
 you before, that even then, when this lU-pause was making 
 his speech to the townsmen, my Lord Innocency (whether 
 by a shot from the camp of the giant, or from sotae sinking 
 qualm that suddenly took him, or whether by the stinking 
 breath of that treacherous villain old Ill-pause, for so I am 
 most apt to think) sunk down in the jilace where he stood, 
 nor coiUd he be brought to hfe again. Thus these two brave 
 men died ; brave men, I call them ; for they were the beauty 
 and glory of Mansoul, so long as they lived therein : nor did 
 there now remain any more a noble spirit in jNIansoul ; thfiti 
 aU fell down and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and became 
 his slaves and vassals, as you shall hear.
 
 SS8 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Now these being dead, -what do the rest of the townsfolk, 
 but, as men that had found a fool's paradise, they presently, 
 as afore was hinted, fall to prove the truth of the giant's 
 words. And, first, they did as Ill-pause had taught them ; 
 they looked, they considered, they were taken with the for;- 
 bidden fruit : they took thereof, and did eat ; and having 
 eaten, they became immediately drunken therewith. So 
 they opened the gate, both Ear-gate and Eye-gate, and let 
 in Diabolus with all his bands, quite forgetting their good 
 Shaddai, his law, and the judgment that he had annexed, 
 with solemn threatening, to the breach thereof. 
 
 Diabolus, having now obtained entrance in at the gates of 
 the town, marches up to the middle thereof, to make his 
 conquest as sure as he could ; and finding, by this time, the 
 affections of the people warmly inclining to him, he, as 
 thinking it was best striking while the iron is hot, made 
 this further deceivable speech unto them, saying, *' Alas, 
 my poor Mansoul! I have done thee indeed this service, as 
 to promote thee to honour, and to greaten thy liberty ; but, 
 alas ! alas ! poor Mansoul, thou wantest now one to defend 
 thee ; for assure thyself, that when Shaddai shall hear what 
 is done, he will come; for sorry will he be that thou hast 
 broken his bonds, and cast his cords away from thee. What 
 wilt thou do? Wilt thou, after enlargement, suffer thy 
 privileges to be invaded and taken away ? or what wilt thou 
 resolve with thyself ? " 
 
 Then they all with one consent said to this bramble, "Do 
 thou reign over us." So he accepted the motion, and be- 
 came the king of the town of ^Mansoul. This being done, 
 the next thing was, to give him possession of the castle, and 
 so of the whole strength of the town. Wherefore, into the 
 castle he goes : it was that which Shaddai built in Mansoid 
 for his own delight and pleasure ; this now was become a 
 den and hold for the giant Diabolus. 
 
 Now, having got possession of this stately palace or 
 castle, what doth he but makes it a gamson for himself, and 
 strengthens and fortifies it with all sorts of provision, agaiuet 
 
 II
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 339 
 
 the King Shaddai, or those that should endeavour t?» regain- 
 ing of it to him and his obedience again. 
 
 This done, but not thinking himself yet secure eziough, in 
 the next place he bethinks himself of new modelling the 
 town ; and so he does, setting up one, and putting down 
 another at pleasure. Whftrefore my Lord Mayor, whose 
 name was my Lord Understanding, and Mr Recorder, whose 
 name was Mr Conscience, these he put out of place and 
 power. 
 
 As for my Lord Mayor, though he was an understanding 
 man, and one too that had complied with the rest of the 
 town of Mansoiil in admitting the giant into the town ; yet 
 Diabolus thought not fit to let him abide in 
 
 Coi" X 4 5 
 
 his former lustre and glory, because he was 
 
 a seeing man. Wherefore he darkened him, not only by 
 
 taking from him his office and power, but by building an 
 
 high and strong tower, just between the sun's reflections and 
 
 the windows of my lord's palace; by which means his house 
 
 and all, and the whole of his habitation, were made as dark 
 
 as darkness itself. And thus, being alien- 
 
 ,, T , . 1 1 n . Eph. iv. 18, 19. 
 
 ated from the light, he became as one that 
 
 was born blind. To this his house, my lord was confined ag 
 
 to a prison ; ror might he, upon his parole, go further than 
 
 within his own bounds. And now, had he had an heart to 
 
 do for Mansoul, what could he do for it ? or wherein could he 
 
 be profitable to her ? So then, so long as Mansoul was under 
 
 the power and government of Diabolus, (and so long it was 
 
 imder him as it was obedient to him, which was even until 
 
 by a war it was rescued out of his h.ind,) so long my Lord 
 
 Mayor was rather an impediment in, than an advantage to, 
 
 the famous town of Mansoul. 
 
 As for Mr Recorder, before the towa was taken, he was a 
 
 man well read in the laws of his King, and also a man of 
 
 courage and faithfidness to speak truth at every occasion : 
 
 and he had a tongue as bravely hung, as he had a head filled 
 
 with judgment. Now, this man Diabolus could by no means 
 
 abide, bocause, though he gave his consent to his ooming
 
 340 THE HOLY WAFv. 
 
 into the town, yet he could not, Ijy all the wiles, trials, 
 stratagems, and devices that he could use, make him wholly 
 his own. True, he was much degenerated from his former 
 King, and also much pleased with many of the giant's laws 
 and service ; but all this would not do, forasmuch as he was 
 not wholly liis. He would now and then think iipon Shaddai, 
 and have dread of his law upon him, and then he would 
 speak against Diabolus with a voice as great as when a lion 
 roareth. Yea, and would also at certain times, when his 
 fits were xipon him, (for you nmst know that sometimes he 
 had terrible fits,) make the whole town of Mansoul shake 
 with his voice : and therefore the now king of Mansoul could 
 not abide him. 
 
 Diabolus, therefore, feared the Recorder more than any 
 that was left alive in the town of Mansoul, because, as T said, 
 his words did shake the whole town; they were like the 
 rattling thimder, and also like thunder-claps. Since, there- 
 fore, the giant could not make him wholly his own, what 
 doth he do but studies all that he could to debauch the 
 old gentleman, and by debauchery to stupefy his mind, and 
 more harden his heart in the ways of vanity. And as he 
 attempted, so he accompHshed his design : he debauched the 
 man, and by little and little, so drew him into sin and 
 wickedness, that at last he was not only debauched, as at 
 first, and so by consequence defiled, but was almost (at last, 
 I say) past all conscience of sin. And this was the furthest 
 Diabolus could go. Wherefore he bethinks him of another 
 project, and that was, to persuade the men of the town that 
 Mr Recorder was mad, and so not to be regarded. And 
 for this he urged his fits, and said, "If he be himself, why 
 doth he not do thus always? But," quoth he, "as all mad 
 folks have their fits, and in them their raving language, 
 so hath this old and doating gentleman." 
 
 Thus, by one means or another, he quickly got Mansoul 
 to slight, neglect, and despise whatever Mr Recorder could 
 say. For, besides what already you have heard, Diabolus 
 had a way to make the old gentleman, when he was merry,
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 341 
 
 unsay and deny what lie in his fits had affirmed. And, 
 indeed, this was the next way to make himself ridiculous, 
 and to cause that no man should regard now conecience 
 him. Also now he never spake freely for io^s,°aTwlth cwnai 
 King Shaddai, but always by force and Olenitis, 
 constraint. Besides, he would at one time be hot against 
 that at which, at another, he would hold his peace; so 
 uneven was he now in his doings. Sometimes he Avoiild be 
 as if fast asleep, and again sometimes as dead, even then 
 when the whole town of Mansoixl was in her career after 
 vanity, and in her dance after the giant's pipe. 
 
 Wherefore, sometimes when Mansoul did use to be frighted 
 with the thundering voice of the Recorder that was, and 
 when they did teU Diabolus of it, he would answer, that 
 what the old gentleman said was neither of love to him nor 
 pity to them, but of a fooHsh fondness that he had to be 
 prating ; and so would hush, still, and put all to quiet again. 
 And that he might leave no argument unurged that might 
 tend to make them secure, he said, and said it often, "0 
 Mansoul 1 consider that, notwithstanding the old gentleman's 
 rage, and the rattle of his high and thundering words, you 
 hear nothing of Shaddai himself;" when, Har and deceiver 
 that he was, every outcry of Mr Recorder against the sin of 
 Mansoul was the voice of God in him to them. But he goes 
 on, and says, "You see that he values not the loss nor 
 rebellion of the town of Mansoul, nor will he trouble himself 
 with calling his town to a reckoning for their giving them- 
 selves to me. He knows that though you were his, now you 
 are lawfixUy mine; so, leaving us one to another, he now 
 hath shaken his hands of vis. 
 
 "Moreover, Mansoid! " qvioth he, "consider how I have 
 served you, even to the uttermost of my power; and that 
 with the best that I have, coidd get, or procure for you in 
 all the world : besides, I daresay that the laws and customs 
 that you now are imder, and by wliich you do homage to 
 me, do yield you more solace and content than did the para- 
 dise that at first you possessed. Your liberty also, as your-
 
 342 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 selves do very well know, has been greatly widened and en- 
 larged by me ; whereas I found you a penned-up people. I 
 have not laid any restraint upon you ; you have no law, 
 statute, or judgment of mine to fright you; I call none of 
 you to account for your doings, except the 
 madman — you know who I mean ; J. have 
 granted you to live, each man like a prince in his own, even 
 with as little control from me as I myself have from you." 
 And thus would Diabolus hush up and quiet the town of 
 
 Mansoul, when the Recorder that was, did 
 Men Bometimes . ' 
 
 angry >Tith their con- at times molest them: yea, and with such 
 
 cm-sed orations as these, would set the whole 
 
 town in a rage and fury against the old gentleman. Yea, 
 
 the rascal crew at some times would be for destroying him. 
 
 They have often wished, in my hearing, that he had lived a 
 
 thousand miles off from them : his company, his words, yea, 
 
 the sight of him, and esiDeciaUy when they remembered how 
 
 in old times he did use to threaten and condemn them, (for 
 
 all he was now so debauched,) did terrify and afflict them 
 
 sore. 
 
 But aU wishes were vain, for I do not know how, \inless 
 by the power of Shaddai, and his wisdom, he was preserved 
 in being amongst them. Besides, his house was as strong 
 as a castle, and stood hard by a stronghold of the town : 
 111 thoughts. moreover, if at any time any of the crew 
 or rabble attempted to make him away, he could pull up 
 Of fears. the sluices, and let in such floods as woiUd 
 
 drown all round about him. 
 
 But to leave Mr Recorder, and to come to my Lord WUl- 
 The wiU. bewiU, another of the gentry of the famous 
 
 town of Mansoid. This WillbewiU was as high bom as any 
 man in Mansoul, and was as much, if not more, a freeholder 
 than many of them were ; besides, if I remember my tale 
 aright, he had some privileges peciUiar to himself in the 
 famous town of Mansoul. Now, together with these, he was 
 a man of great strength, resolution, and courage, nor in his 
 occasion coidd any turn biTri away. But I say, whether he
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 343 
 
 was proud of his estate, privileges, strength, or what, (but 
 sure it was through pride of something, ) he scorns now to 
 be a slave in Mansoul ; cand therefore resolves to bear office 
 under Diabolus, that he might (such a one as he was) be a 
 petty ruler and governor in Mansoul. And, headstrong man 
 that he was ! thus he began betimes ; for this man, when 
 Diabolus did make his oration at Ear-gate, was one of the 
 first that was for consenting to his words, and for accepting 
 his counsel as wholesome, and that was for the opemng of 
 the gate, and for letting him into the town ; wherefore Dia- 
 bolus had a kindness for him, and therefore he designed for 
 him a place. And perceiving the valour and stoutness of 
 the man, he coveted to have him for one of his great ones, 
 to act and do in matters of the highest concern. 
 
 So he sent for him, and talked with him of that secret 
 matter that lay in his breast, but there The wm takes place 
 needed not much persuasion in the case. under Diabolus. 
 For as at first he was willing that Diabolus should be let into 
 the town, so now he was as willing to serve him there. 
 When the tyrant, therefore, perceived the willingness of my 
 lord to serve him, and that his mind stood bending that way, 
 he forthwith made him the cajitain of the Heart Flesh 
 castle, governor of the wall, and keei^er of Senses. 
 
 the gates of Mansoul : yea, there was a clause in his commis- 
 sion, that nothing without him should be done in all the 
 town of Mansoul. So that now, next to Diabolus himself, 
 who but my Lord AVillbewill in all the town of Mansoul ! 
 nor could anything now be done, but at his wiU and pleasure, 
 throughout the town of I»Iansoul. He had also one Mr 
 Muid for his clerk, a man to speak on every 
 way like his master : for he and his lord 
 were in principle one, and in practice not far asunder. 
 And now was Mansoul brought under to purpose, and 
 
 made to fulfil the lusts of the will and of 
 
 .1 • , Eph. u. 2-4. 
 
 the mmd. 
 
 But it will not out of my thoughts, what a desperate one 
 
 this Willbewill was, when power was put into his hand.
 
 3ii THE HOLY WAJL 
 
 First, he flatly denied that he owed any suit or service to his 
 former Prince and liege Lord. This done, in the next place 
 he took an oath, and swore fidelity to his great master Dia- 
 bolus, and then, being stated and settled in his places, 
 ofiices, advancements, and preferments, oh ! yon cannot 
 think, vinless you had seen it, the strange work that this 
 workman made in the town of Mansoul. 
 
 First, he maligned Mr Recorder to death , he woidd neither 
 The carnal will endiu'e to see him, nor to hear the words of 
 opposeth conscience, j^jg mouth; he woidd shut his eyes when he 
 saw him, and stop his ears when he heard him speak. Also 
 he could not endure that so much as a fragment of the Law 
 of Shaddai should be anywhere seen in the town. For 
 example, his clerk, Mr Mind, had some old, rent, and torn 
 
 parchments of the law of good Shaddai in 
 Neh. ix. 26. . 
 
 his hsuse, but when Willbewill saw them, 
 
 he cast them behind his back. True, Mr Recorder had some 
 Corrupt will loves a of the laws in his study ; but my lord coidd 
 dark understanding. |jy j^q means come at them. He also thought 
 and said, that the windows of my old Lord Mayor's house 
 were always too light for the profit of the town of Mansoul. 
 The light of a caudle he could not endure. Now nothing at 
 all pleased Willbewill but what pleased Diabolus his lord. 
 
 There was none Hke him to trimipet about the streets the 
 brave nature, the wise conduct, and great glory of the king 
 Diabolus. He would range and rove throughout all the 
 streets of Mansoul to cry up his illustrious lord, and would 
 
 make himself even as an abiect, amona the 
 
 Vain thoughts. 4. i.- ,- ^ 
 
 base and rascal crew, to cry up his valiant 
 
 prbice. And, I say, when and wheresoever he found these 
 vassals, he would even make himself as one of them. In all 
 iU coiu'ses, he would act without bidding, and do mischief 
 '.vithout commandment. 
 
 The Lord Willbewill also had a deputy under him, and his 
 name was Mr Affection, one that was also 
 greatly debauched in his principles, and an- 
 swerable thereto in his life : he was whoUj' given to the flesb.
 
 ITHE HOLY WAR. 345 
 
 and therefore they called tim Vile-Affection. Now there 
 was he and one Carnal-Lust, the daughter ^ ^^^^^ betwixt, 
 of Mr Mind, (like to like,) that fell in love, Vile- Affection ami 
 and made a match, and were married; and, 
 as I take it, they had several children, as Impudent, Black- 
 mouth, and Hate-Reproof. These three were black boys. 
 And besides these they had three daughters, as Scorn-Truth, 
 and SHght-God, and the name of the yoimgest was Revenge. 
 These were all married in the town, and also begot and 
 yielded many bad brats, too many to be here inserted. But 
 to pass by this. 
 
 When the giant had thus engarrlsoned himself in the toM'n 
 of Mansoul, and had put down and set up whom he thought 
 good, he betakes himself to defacing. Now there was in the 
 market-place in Mansotd, and also upon the gates of the 
 castle, an image of the blessed King Shaddai. This image 
 was so exactly engraven, (and it was engraven in gold,) that 
 it did the most resemble Shaddai himself of anything that 
 then was extant in the world. This he basely commanded 
 to be defaced, and it was as basely done by the hand of Mr 
 ]S^o-T'ruth. Now you must know that, as Diabolus had com- 
 manded, and that by the hand of Mr No -Truth, the image of 
 Shaddai was defaced, he likewise gave order that the same 
 Mr No-truth should set up in its stead the horrid and for- 
 midable image of Diabolus, to the great contempt of tho 
 former King, and debasing of his town of Mansoul. 
 
 Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of all remains of the laws 
 ,ind statutes of Shaddai that could be found in the town of 
 Mansoul; to wit, such as contained either the doctrines of 
 morals, with all civil and natural documents. Also relative 
 severities he sought to extinguish. To be short, there was 
 nothino' of the remains of good in Mansowl which he ami 
 Willbewill sought not to destroy; for their design was to 
 turn Mansoul into a brute, and to make it like to the sensual 
 sow, by the hand of Mr No-Truth. 
 
 When he had destroyed what law and good orders he 
 opuld, then further to effect his design, namely, to alienate
 
 34G THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Mansoul from Shaddai lier King, he commands, and they set 
 lip his own vain edicts, statutes, and commandments, in all 
 places of resort or concourse in Mansoul, to wit, such as gave 
 liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of 
 the eyes, and the pride of life, which are not 
 of Shaddai, but of the world. He encouraged, countenanced, 
 and promoted lasci\doiisness and all ungodliness there. Yea, 
 much more did Diabolus to encourage wickedness in the town 
 of Mansoul; he promised them peace, content, joy, andbhss, 
 in doing his commands, and that they should never be called 
 to an account for their not doing the contrary. And let this 
 serve to give a taste to them that love to hear tell of what is 
 done beyond their knowledge afar off in other countries. 
 
 Now Mansoul being wholly at his beck, and brought whoUy 
 to his bow, nothing was heard or seen therein but that which 
 tended to set up him. 
 
 But now he, having disabled the Lord Mayor and Mr Re- 
 corder from bearing of office in Mansoul, and seeing that the 
 town, before he came to it, was the most ancient of cor- 
 porations in the world ; and fearing, if he did not maintain 
 greatness, they at any time should object that he had done 
 them an injury; therefore, I say, (that they might see that 
 he did not intend to lessen their grandeur, or to take from 
 them any of their advantageous things,) he did choose for 
 them a Lord Maj^or and a Hecorder himself, and such as 
 contented them at the heart, and such also as pleased him 
 wondrous well. 
 
 The name of the Mayor that was of Diabolus' making was 
 the Lord Lustings, a man that had neither eyes nor ears. AU 
 that he did, whether as a man or an officer, he did it natu- 
 rally, as doth the beast. And that which made him yet the 
 more ignoble, though not to Mansoul, yet to them that be- 
 held and were grieved for its ruin, was, that he never coidd 
 favour good, but evil. 
 
 The Recorder was one whose name was Forget-Good, and 
 a very sorry fellow he was. He could remember nothing 
 but mischief, and to do it with delight. He was naturally
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 347 
 
 prone to do things that were hurtful, even hurtful to the 
 town of Mansoul, and to all the dwellers there. These two, 
 therefore, by theh' power and practice, examples, and snailes 
 upon evil, did much more grammar and settle the common 
 people in hurtful ways. For who doth not perceive that 
 when those that sit aloft are vile and corrupt themselves, 
 they corrupt the whole region and country where they are ? 
 
 Besides these, Diabolus made several burgesses and alder- 
 men in Mansoul, such as out of whom the town, when it 
 needed, might choose them officers, governors, and magis- 
 trates. And these are the names of the chief of them : Mr 
 Incredulity, Mr Haughty, Mr Swearing, Mr Whoring, Mr 
 Hard-Heart, Mr Pitiless, Mr Fury, Mr No-Truth, Mr Stand- 
 to-Lies, Mr False-Peace, Mi' Drunkenness, Mr Cheating, Mr 
 Atheism, — thirteen in all, Mr Incredulity is the eldest, and 
 Mr Atheism the youngest of the company. 
 
 There was also an election of common councilmcn and 
 others, as bailiffs, Serjeants, constables, and others; but all 
 of them like to those afore-named, being either fathers, 
 brothers, cousins, or nephews to them, whose names, for 
 brevity's sake, I omit to mention. 
 
 When the giant had thus far* proceeded in his work, in the 
 next place, he betook him to build some strongholds in the 
 town, and he built three that seemed to be impregnable. 
 The first he called the Hold of Defiance, because it was made 
 to command the whole town, and to keep it from the know- 
 ledge of its ancient King. The second he called Midnight 
 Hold, because it was built on piu'pose to keep Mansoul from 
 the true knowledge of itself. The third was called Sweet- 
 Sin Hold, because by that he fortified Mansoul against aU 
 desires of good. The first of these holds stood close by Eye- 
 gate, that, as much as might be, light might be darkened 
 there ; the second was built hard by the old castle, to the 
 end that that might be made more blind, if possible; and the 
 third stood in the market-place. 
 
 He that Diabolus made governor over the first of these 
 was one Spite-God, a most blasphemous wretch : he came
 
 348 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 witli the whole rabble of them that came against Mansoul ad 
 first, and was himself one of themselves. He that was made 
 the governor of Midnight Hold was one Love-no-Light : he 
 was also of them that came first against the town. And he 
 that was made the governor of the hold called Sweet-Sin 
 Hold was one whose name was Love-Flesh : he was also a 
 very lewd feUow, but not of that country where the other 
 are bound. This fellow could find more sweetness when he 
 stood Slicking of a lust, than he did in all the paradise 
 of God. 
 
 And now Diabolus thought himself safe. He had taken 
 Mansoul, he had engarrisoned himself therein ; he had put 
 down the old officers, and had set up new ones ; he had 
 defaced the image of Shaddai, and had set up his own ; he 
 had spoiled the old law books, and had promoted his own 
 vain lies ; he had made him new magistrates, and set up new 
 aldermen ; he had builded him new holds, and had manned 
 them for himself ; and all this he did to make himself secui-e, 
 in case the good Shaddai, or his Son, should come to make 
 an incursion upon him. 
 
 Now you may well think, that long before this time, word, 
 by some or other, could not but be carried to the good King 
 Shaddai, how his Mansoul, in the continent of Universe, was 
 lost ; and that the runagate giant Diabolus, once one of his 
 Majesty's servants, had, in rebellion against the King, made 
 sure thereof for himself. Yea, tidings were carried and 
 brought to the King thereof, and that to a very circum- 
 stance. 
 
 As first, how Diabolus came upon Mansoul (they being a 
 simple people and innocent) with craft, subtlety, lies, and 
 guile. Item, that he had treacherously slain the right noble 
 and valiant captain, their Captain Resistance, as he stood 
 upon the gate with the rest of the townsmen. Item, bow my 
 brave Lord Innocent fell do^vn dead (with grief, some say, 
 or with being poisoned with the stinking breath of one Hi- 
 Pause, as say others) at the hearing of his just Lord and 
 rightful Prince, Shaddai, so abused by the mouth of so filthy
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 349 
 
 a Diabolian as that varlet Ill-Pause was. The messenger 
 fm-ther told, that after this Ill-Pause had made a short ora. 
 tion to the townsmen in behalf of Diabolus, his master, the 
 simple town, believing that what was said was true, with 
 one consent did open Ear-gate, the chief gate of the corpora- 
 tion, and did let him, with his crew, into a possession of the 
 famous town of Mansoul. He further shewed how Diabolus 
 had served the Lord Mayor and Mr Piecorder, to wit, that 
 he had put them from all place of power and trust. Item, 
 he shewed also that my Lord WUlbewill was turned a very 
 rebel and runagate, and that so was one Mr Mind, his clerk ; 
 and that they two did range and revel it aU the town over, 
 and teach the wicked ones their ways. He said, moreover, 
 that this WiUbewUl was put into great trust, and particu- 
 larly that Diabolus had put into WUlbewiirs hand all the 
 strong places in Mansoul ; and that Mr Affection was made 
 my Lord WiUbewHl's deputy in his most rebellious affairs. 
 " Yea," said the messenger, "this monster. Lord WiUbewLlI, 
 has openly disavowed his King Sbaddai, and hath horribly 
 given his faith and plighted his troth to Diabolus. 
 
 "Also," said the messenger, "besides all this, the new 
 king, or rather rebellious tyrant, over the once famous, but 
 now perishing town of Mansoul, has set up a Lord Mayor 
 and a Recorder of his own. For Mayor, he has set up one 
 Mr Lustings; and for Recorder, Mr Forget-Good; two of the 
 vilest of all the town of Mansoul." This faithful messenger 
 also proceeded, and told what a sort of new burgesses Dia- 
 bolus had made ; also that he had built several strong forts, 
 towers, and strong holds in Mansoul. He told, too, the 
 which I had almost forgot, how Diabolus had put the town 
 of Mansoul into arms, the better to capacitate them, on his 
 behalf, to make resistance against Shaddai their King, should 
 he come to reduce them to their former obedience. 
 
 Now this tidings-teUer did not deliver his relation of things 
 in private, but in open court, the King and his Son, high 
 lords, chief captains, and nobles, being all there present to 
 hear. But by that they had heard the whole of the story.
 
 350 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 it would have amazed one to have seen, had he been theie to 
 behold it, what sorrow and grief, and compunction of spirit, 
 there was among all sorts, to think that famous Mansoul was 
 now taken : only the King and his Son foresaw all this long 
 before, yea, and sufficiently provided for the relief of Mansoul, 
 though they told not everybody thereof. Yet because they 
 also would have a share in condoling of the misery of Man- 
 soul, therefore they also did, and that at a rate of the highest 
 degree, bewail the losing of Mansoul. The King said plainly 
 
 that it grieved him at the heart, and you 
 Gen. Ti. 5, 6. , ° ., , i . r^, . , • 
 
 may be sure that his son was not a whit 
 
 behind him. Thus gave they conviction to all about them 
 
 that they had love and compassion for the famous town of 
 
 Mansoul. Well, when the King and his Son were retired 
 
 into the privy chamber, there they again consulted about 
 
 what they had designed before, to wit, that as Mansoid 
 
 The secret of Ms should in time be suffered to be lost, so 
 
 purpose. j^g certainly it should be recovered again ; 
 
 recovered, I say, in such a way, as that both the King and 
 
 his Son would get themselves eternal fame and glory thereby. 
 
 Wherefore, after this consult, the Son of 
 
 Shaddai (a sweet and comely Person, and 
 
 one that had always great affection for those that were in 
 
 afiBiction, but one that had mortal enmity in his heart against 
 
 Diabolus, becavise he was designed for it, and because he 
 
 sought his crown and dignity) — this Son of 
 
 1 Tim. i. 15. Shaddai, I say, having stricken hands with 
 Hosea xiii. 14. ' •" ^ 
 
 his Father, and promised that he would be 
 
 his servant to recover his Mansoul again, stood by his resolu- 
 tion, nor would he repent of the same. The purport of which 
 agreement was this : to wit, that at a certain time, prefixed 
 by both, the King's Son shoidd take a journey into the 
 country of Universe, and there, in a way of justice and 
 equity, by making amends for the follies of Mansoul, he 
 should lay a foundation of her perfect deliverance from 
 Diabolus and from his tyranny. 
 
 Moreover, Emmanuel resolved to make, at a time ccn-
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 351 
 
 venient, a war xipon the giant Diabolus, even while he was 
 
 possessed of the town of Mansoul ; and that ^ .^ „ , „. . 
 '^ , ,.,,,. By the Holy Ghost, 
 
 he would fairly by strength of hand drive 
 
 him out of his hold, his nest, and take it to himself to be 
 
 his habitation. 
 
 This now being resolved upon, order was given to the 
 Lord Chief Secretary to draw up a fair re- The Holy 
 cord of what was determined, and to cause Scriptures. 
 that it should be published in all the comers of the kingdom 
 of Universe. A short breviat of the contents thereof you 
 may, if you please, take here as follows : — • 
 
 ' ' Let all men know who are concerned, that the Son of 
 Shaddai, the great King, is engaged by covenant to his Father 
 to bring his Mansoul to him again ; yea, and to put Mansoul 
 too, through the power of his matchless love, into a far better 
 and more happy condition than it was in before it was taken 
 by Diabolus." 
 
 These papers, therefore, were published in several places, 
 to the no little molestation of the tjrrant Diabolus; "for 
 now," thought he, "I shall be molested, and my habitation 
 will be taken from me." 
 
 But when this matter, I mean this purpose of the King 
 
 and his Son, did at iirst take air at court, who can tell how 
 
 the high lords, chief captains, and noble ^ 
 
 ° , , , ... Among the angels, 
 
 princes that were there, were taken with 
 
 the business ! First they whispered it one to another, and 
 after that it began to ring out through the King's palace, all 
 wondering at the glorious design that between the King and 
 his Son was on foot for the miserable town of Mansoul. 
 Yea, the courtiers could scarce do anything either for the 
 King or kingdom, but they would mix, with the doing 
 thereof, a noise of the love of the King and his Sou, that 
 they had for the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Nor coidd these lords, high captains, and princes be con- 
 tent to keep this news at court ; yea, before the records 
 thereof were perfected, themselves came down and told it in 
 Universe. At last it came to the ears, as T said, of Diabolos,
 
 352 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 to Iiis no little discontent ; for you must think it would per- 
 plex liim to hear of such a design against him. Well, but 
 after a few casts in his mind, he concluded upon these four 
 things. 
 
 First, That this news, these good tidings, (if possible,) 
 shoidd be kept from the ears of the town of Mausoul ; "for," 
 said he, "if they should once come to the knowledge that 
 Shaddai, their former King, and Emmanuel his Sou, are con- 
 triving good for the town of ]\Iansoul, what can be expected 
 by me, but that Mausoul wiU make a revolt from under my 
 hand and government, and return again to him ? " 
 
 Now, to accomplish this his design, he renews his flattery 
 with my Lord Willbewill, and also gives him strict charge 
 aud command, that he should keep watch by day and by 
 night at aU the gates of the town, especially at Ear-gate aud 
 Eye-gate ; " for I hear of a design," quoth he, "a design to 
 make us aU traitors, and that Mansoid must be reduced 
 to its first bondage agaiu. I hope they are but flying 
 stories," quoth he; "however, let no such news by any 
 means be let into Mansoiil, lesfc the people be dejected 
 thereat. I think, my lord, it can be no welcome news to 
 The will engaged yo^^ > I ^^^ sure it is none to me : and I 
 against the lospei. tj^j^k that, at this time, it shoidd be all 
 our wisdom and care to nip the head of aU such rumours as 
 shall tend to trouble our people. Wherefore I desire, my 
 lord, that you will in this matter do as I say. Let there 
 be strong guards daily kept at every gate of the town. 
 Stop also and examine from whence such come that you per- 
 ceive do from far come hither to trade, nor let them by any 
 means be admitted into MansoiU, unless you shall plainly 
 perceive that they are favourers of our excellent government. 
 AU good thoughts I command, moreover," said Diabolus, " that 
 town are to be sup^ there be spies continually walking up and 
 pressed. down the town of Mausoul, and let them 
 
 have power to suppress and destroy any that they shall per- 
 ceive to be plotting against us, or that shall prate of what 
 by Shaddai and Emmanuel is intended."
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 853 
 
 This, therefore, was accordingly done; my Lord Willbe- 
 will hearkened to his lord and master, went willingly after 
 the commandment, and, with all the diligence he could, 
 kept any that would from going out abroad, or that sought 
 to bring these tidings to Mansoul, from coming into the 
 town. 
 
 Secondly, This done, in the next place, Diabolus, that he 
 might make Mansoul as sure as he could, frames and im- 
 poses a new oath and horrible covenant upon the townsfolk : 
 — To wit, that they should never desert him nor his govern- 
 ment, nor yet betray him, nor seek to alter hia laws; but 
 that they should own, confess, stand by, and acknowledge 
 him for their rightful king, in defiance of any that do, or 
 hereafter shall, by any pretence, law, or title whatever, lay 
 claim to the town of IMnnsoul ; thinking, belike, that 
 Shaddai had not power to absolve them from this covenant 
 
 with death, and agreement with hell. Nor 
 
 .,■■■•«■ 1 • 1 1 1 L ^^ Isaiah xiviii. 15. 
 
 did the silly Mansoul stick or boggle at ail 
 
 at this most monstrous engagement ; but, as if it had been a 
 sprat in the mouth of a whale, they swallowed it without 
 any chewing. Were they troubled at it ? Nay, they rather 
 bragged and boasted of their so brave fidelity to the 
 tyrant, their pretended king, swearing that they would 
 never be changelings, nor forsake their old lord for a nev,% 
 Thus did Diabolus tie poor ]\Iansoul fast. 
 
 Thirdly, Bat jealousy, that never thinks itself strong 
 enough, i)ut him, in the next place, upon another exploit, 
 which was, yet more, if possible, to debauch this town of 
 Mansoul. Wherefore he caused by the odious atheisti- 
 hand of one Mr Filth, an odious, nasty, SLy^bSC'aA<f"o- 
 lascivious piece of beastliness to be drawn '"''Jic*'^- 
 up in writing, and to be set upon the castle gates ; whereby 
 he granted and gave licence to all hia true and trusty sons in 
 Mansoul to do whatsoever their lustfid appetites prompted 
 them to do; and that no man was to let, hinder, or con- 
 trol them, upon pain of incurring the displeasure of their 
 prince.
 
 S54 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Now this he did for these reasons : — 
 
 1. That the town of Mansoiil might be yet made weaker 
 and weaker, and so more imable, should tidings come that 
 their redemption was designed, to believe, hope, or consent 
 to the truth thereof ; for reason says, The bigger the sinner, 
 the less grounds of hopes of mercy. 
 
 2. The second reason was, if perhaps Emmanuel, the Son 
 of Shaddai their King, by seeing the horrible and profane 
 doings of the town of Mansoid, might repent, though entered 
 into a covenant of redeeming them, of piu-suing that covenant 
 of their redemption; for he knew that Shaddai was holy, and 
 that his Son Emmanuel was holy ; yea, he knew it by woeful 
 experience, for for his iniquity and sin was Diabolus cast 
 from the highest orbs. "Wherefore what more rational than 
 for him to conclude that thus, for sin, it might fare with 
 Mansoul ? But fearing also lest this knot should break, he 
 bethinks himself of another, to wit; 
 
 Eoiu-thly, To endeavour to possess aU hearts in the town 
 of Mansoul that Shaddai was raising an army, to come to 
 overthrow and utterly to destroy this town of Mansoiil. 
 And this he did to forestall any tidings that might come 
 to their ears of their deliverance; "for," thought he, "it 
 I first bruit this, the tidings that shaU come after will 
 all be swallowed up of this; for what else will Mansoul 
 say, when they shall hear that they must be delivered, 
 but that the ti'ue meaning is, Shaddai intends to destroy 
 The place of hearing tbem ?" Wherefore he summons the whole 
 andofconsideriDgr town into the market-place, and there, with 
 deceitful tongue, thus he addresses himself unto them : — 
 
 "Gentlemen, and my very good friends, you are aU, as 
 j'ou kuow, my legal subjects, and men of the famous town 
 of Mansoid. You know how, from the first day that T have 
 been with you until now, I have behaved myself among 
 you, and what liberty and great privileges you have enjoyed 
 Tinder my government, I hope to your honour and mine, and 
 also to your content and delight. Now, my famous Mansoul, 
 a noise of trouble there is abroad, of trouble to the town of
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 355 
 
 Mansoiil ; sorry I am thereof for your sakes : for I received 
 but now by the post from my Lord Lucifer, (and he iiseth to 
 have good intelligence,) that your old King Shaddai is raising 
 an army to come against you, to destroy you root and branch ; 
 and this, Mansoul, is now the cause that at this time I 
 have called you together, namely, to advise what in this 
 juncture is best to be done. For my part, I am but one, 
 and can with ease shift for myself, did I list to seek my own 
 ease, and to leave my Mansoul in all the danger ; but my 
 heart is so firmly xmited to you, and so unwilling am I to 
 leave you, that I am willing to stand and faU with you, to 
 the utmost hazard that shall befall me. What say you, 
 my Mansoul? Will you now desert your old friend, or do 
 you think of standing by me?" Then, as one man, with 
 one mouth, they cried out together, " Let him die the death 
 that will not." 
 
 Then said Diabolus again, " It is in vain for us to hope for 
 quarter, for this King knows not how to shew it. True, 
 perhaps, he, at his first sitting down before very dcceivable 
 us, will talk of and pretend to mercy, that language, 
 thereby with the more ease, and less trouble, he may again 
 make himself the master of Mansoul. Whatever, therefore, 
 he shall say, believe not one syllable or tittle of it ; for all 
 such language is but to overcome us, and to make us, while 
 we wallow in our blood, the trophies of his merciless victory. 
 My mind is, therefore, that we resolve to the last man to 
 resist him, and not to believe him upon any terms ; for in at 
 that door will come our danger. But shall we bej flattered 
 out of our lives ? I hope you know more of the rudiments 
 of pohtics than to sutfer yoiirselves so pitifidly to be served. 
 "But suppose he should, if he get us to yield, save some 
 of our lives, or the lives of some of them that are underlings 
 in Mansoul, what help will that be to you that are the chief 
 of the town, especially yoii whom I have set up, and whose 
 
 greatness has been procured by you through 
 
 J. .,■, J. 1 .• 1 • . q A J Lying language, 
 
 your faithful stickmg to me? And sup- 
 pose, again, that he shoidd give quarter to every one of you,
 
 366 THE HOLY "WAE, 
 
 be sure lie will bring you into tbat bondage imder wbicb you 
 •were captivated before, or a worse, and then what good wUl 
 your lives do you ? Shall you with him live in pleasure as 
 you do now ? No, no ; yoii must be bound by laws that will 
 pinch you, and be made to do that which at present is hateful 
 to you. I am for you, if you are for me ; and it is better to 
 
 He is afraid of ^^^ valiantly than to live like pitiful slaves, 
 losing of Manaoul. gut, T say, the life of a slave wiU be counted 
 a life too good for Mansoiil now. Blood, blood, nothing but 
 blood, is in every blast of Shaddai's trumpet against poor 
 Mansoul now. Pray, be concerned; I hear he is coming. 
 Up, and stand to your arms, that now, while you have any 
 leisure, I may learn you some feats of war. Armour for you 
 I have, and by me it is ; yea, and it is sufficient for Mansoul 
 from top to toe ; nor can you be hurt by what his force can 
 do, if you shall keep it well girt and fastened about you. 
 Come, therefore, to my castle, and welcome, and harness 
 yourselves for the war. There is helmet, breastplate, sword, 
 and shield, and what not, that will make you fight like men. 
 
 " 1. My helmet, otherwise called a head-piece, is hope of 
 doing well at last, what lives soever you live. This is that 
 which they had who said, that they should have peace, 
 though they walked in the wickedness of their heart, to add 
 drunkenness to thirst. A piece of approved 
 armour this is, and whoever has it, and can 
 hold it, so long no arrow, dart, sword, or shield can hm-t 
 him. This, therefore, keep on, and thou wilt keep off many 
 a blow, my Mansoul, 
 
 " 2. My breastplate is a breastplate of iron. I had it 
 forged in mine own country, and all my 
 soldiers are armed therewith. In plain 
 language, it is a hard heart, a heart as hard as iron, and as 
 much past f eehng as a stone ; the which if you get and keep, 
 neither mercy shall win you, nor judgment fright you. This, 
 therefore, is a piece of armour most necessary for all to put 
 on that hate Shaddai, and that would fight against him uudw 
 my banner.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 357 
 
 "3. My sword is a tongue tliat is set on fire of hell, and 
 that can bend itself to speak evil of Shaddai, ^^^^^ j^j ^ 
 his Son, his ways, and people. Use this ; Paato^iav.^s. 
 it has been tried a thousand times twice 
 told. Whoever hath it, keeps it, and makes that use of 
 it as I would have him, can never be conquered by mi n e 
 enemy. 
 
 "4. My shield is unbelief, or calling into question the 
 truth of the word, or all the sayings that j^^ ^^ js. 
 
 speak of the iudgment that Shaddai has Psaimixxvi 3. 
 ^ T--. T . . . , . Mark vi. 5, 6. 
 
 apporuted for wicked men. Use this shield : 
 
 many attempts he has made upon it, and sometimes, it is 
 true, it has been bruised; but they that have writ of the 
 wars of Emmanuel against my servants, have testified that 
 he could do no mighty work there because of their unbelief. 
 Now, to handle this weapon of mine aright, it is not to 
 believe things because they are true, of what sort or by whom- 
 soever asserted. If he speaks of judgment, care not for it; 
 if he speaks of mercy, care not for it ; if he promises, if he 
 swears that he would do to Mansoid, if it turns, no hm-t, 
 but good, regard not what is said, question the trath of aU, 
 for it is to wield the shield of unbelief aright, and as my 
 servants ought and do ; and he th^Joth otherwise loves me 
 not, nor do I count him but an enemy to me. 
 
 "5. Another part or piece," said Diabolus, "of mine 
 excellent armour is a dumb and prayerless spirit, a spirit 
 that scorns to cry for mercy : wherefore be you, my Man- 
 soul, sure that you make use of this. What ! cry for quarter ! 
 Never do that, if you would be mine. I know you are stout 
 men, and I am sure that I have clad you with that which is 
 armour of proof. Wherefore, to cry to Shaddai for mercy, 
 let that be far froni you. Besides all this, I have a maul, 
 firebrands, arrows, and death, all good hand-weapons, and 
 such as will do execution." 
 
 After he had thus furnished his men with armour and 
 arms, he addressed himself to them in such like words as 
 these: — "Remember," quoth ho, "that I am your rightful
 
 358 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 king, and that you have taken an oath and entered into 
 covenant to be tnie to me and my cause : I say, remember 
 this, and shew yourselves stout and valiant men of MansouL 
 Kemember also the kindness that I have always shewed to 
 you, and that without youi- petition T have granted to you 
 external things; wherefore the privileges, grants, immuni- 
 ties, profits, and honoiu-s wherewith I have endowed you, 
 do call for, at your hands, returns of loyalty, my lion-like 
 men of Mansoul : and when so fit a time to shew it as when 
 another shall seek to take my dominion over you into his 
 own hands? One word more, and I have done. Can we 
 but stand, and overcome this one shock or bnmt, I doubt 
 not but in little time all the world will be oiu-s ; and when that 
 day comes, my true hearts, I will make you kings, princes, 
 and captains, and what brave days shall we have then ! " 
 
 Diabolus having thiis armed and forearmed his servants 
 and vassals in Mansoul against their good and lawful King 
 Shaddai, in the next place, he doubleth his guards at the 
 gates of the town, and he takes himself to the castle, which 
 was his strong hold. His vassals also, to shew their wills, 
 and supposed (but ignoble) gallantry, exercise themselves in 
 their arms every day, and teach one another feats of war : 
 they also defied their eiiemies, and sang up the praises of 
 their tyrant : they threatened also what men they would be, 
 if ever things shoiild rise so high as a war between Shaddai 
 and their king. 
 
 Now all this time the good King, the King Shaddai, was 
 preparing to send an army to recover the town of Mansoul 
 again from under the tyranny of their pretended king Dia- 
 bolus ; but he thought good, at first, not to send them by 
 the hand and conduct of brave Emmanuel his Son, but under 
 the hand of some of his servants, to see first by them the 
 temper of Mansoul, and whether by them they would be 
 won to the obedience of their King. The 
 army consisted of above forty thousand, aU 
 true men, for they came from the King's own coiurt, and 
 were those of his own choosing.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. ' 359 
 
 They came up to Mansoul under the conduct of four stout 
 generals, each man being a captain of ten thousand men, and 
 these are their names and their ensigns. The name of the 
 first was Boanerges, the name of the second was Caxitain 
 Conviction, the name of the third was Captain Judgment, 
 and the name of the fourth was Captain Execution. These 
 were the captains that Shaddai sent to regain Mansoul. 
 
 These foxu- captains, as was said, the King thought fit, in 
 
 the first place, to send to Mansoul, to make an attempt upon 
 
 it ; for indeed generally in all his wars he did use to send 
 
 these four captains in the van, for they were very stout 
 
 and rough-he'wn men, men that were fit 
 
 Psalm Ix. 4. 
 to break the ice, and to make their way 
 
 by dint of sword, and their men were like themselves. 
 
 To each of these captains the King gave a banner, that it 
 might be displayed, because of the goodness of his cause, and 
 because of the right that he had to ]\Iausoul. 
 
 First, to Captain Boanerges, for he was the chief, to him, 
 
 I say, were given ten thousand men. His 
 
 . ,^ rr,, , , ■, .1111 Mark ill. 17. 
 
 ensign was Mr Thunder; he bare the black 
 
 colours, and his scutcheon was the three burning thunder- 
 bolts. 
 
 The second captain was Captain Conviction ; to him also 
 were given ten thousand men. His ensign's name was Mi 
 SoiTOw; he did bear the pale colours, and his scutcheon 
 
 was the book of the law wide open, from 
 
 , . , „ ^ ^ Deut. xxxiii. 2. 
 
 whence issued a name oi nre. 
 
 The third captain was Captain Judgment; to him were 
 
 given ten thousand men. His ensign's name was Mr Terror ; 
 
 he bare the red coloirrs, and his scutcheon 
 
 „ . Matt. xiii. 40, «.. 
 
 was a burning fiery lurnace. 
 
 The fourth captain was Cajitain Execution ; to him were 
 given ten thousand men. His ensign was one Mr Justice ; 
 he also bare the red colours, and his scutcheon was a fruit- 
 less tree, with an axe lying at the root 
 
 Matt.iii.10. 
 thereot. 
 
 These four captains, as I said, had every one of them under
 
 360 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 his command ten thousand men, all of good fidelity to the 
 King, and stout at their military actions. 
 
 Well, the captains and their forces, their men and under- 
 ofScers, being had upon a day by Shaddai into the field, 
 and there called all over by their names, were then and 
 there put into such harness as became their degree, and 
 that service which now they were going about for then- 
 King. 
 
 Now, when the King had mustered his forces, (for it is he 
 that miistereth the host to the battle, ) he gave unto- the cap- 
 tains their several commissions, with charge and command- 
 ment in the audience of aU the soldiers, that they should 
 take heed faithfully and courageously to do and execute the 
 same. Their commissions were, for the substance of them, 
 the same in form, though, as to name, title, j)lace, and de- 
 gree of the captains, there might be some, but very small 
 variation. And here let me give you an account of the 
 matter and sum contained in their commission. 
 
 A Commission from the great Shaddai, King of Mansoul, to 
 hv3 trusty and noble Captain, the Captain Boanerges, for his 
 maJcing War upon the town of Mansoul. 
 ' ' thou Boanerges, one of my stout and thundering cap- 
 Matt. X. 11. tains over one ten thousand of my valiant 
 Luke X. 5. j^mj faithful servants, go thou in my name, 
 with this thy force, to the miserable town of Mansoul ; and 
 when thou comest tliither, offer them first conditions of 
 peace; and command them that, casting off the yoke and 
 tyranny of the wicked Diabolus, they return to me, their 
 rightful Prince and Lord. Command them also that they 
 cleanse themselves from all that is his in the town of Man- 
 soul, and look to thyself, that thou hast good satisfaction 
 touching the truth of their obedience. Thus when thou hast 
 commanded them, (if they in truth submit thereto,) then do 
 thou, to the iittermost of thy power, what in thee lies to set 
 up for me a garrison in the famous town of Mansoul ; nor do 
 thou hurt the least native that moveth or breatheth therein,
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 361 
 
 if tliey will submit themselves to me, biit treat tbou such as 
 
 if tliey were thy friend or brother ; for aU such I love, aud 
 
 they shall be dear unto me ; and teU them that I will take a 
 
 time to come rmto them, and to let them 
 
 _ . , , 1 Thess. ii. 7-11. 
 
 know that I am mercitul. 
 
 "But if they shall, notwithstanding thy summons and the 
 
 producing of thy authority, resist, stand out against thee, 
 
 and rebel, then do I command thee to make use of all thy 
 
 cunning, power, might, and force, to bring them under by 
 
 strength of hand. Farewell." 
 
 Thus you see the sum of their commissions ; for, as I said 
 before, for the substance of them, they were the same that 
 the rest of the noble captains had. 
 
 Wherefore they, having received each commander his au- 
 thority at the hand of their King, the day being aj)j)ointed, 
 and the place of their rendezvous prefixed, each commander 
 appeared in such gallantry as became his cause and calling. 
 So, after a new entertainment from Shaddai, with flying 
 colours they set forward t6 march towards the famous town 
 of Mansoul. Captain Boanerges led the van, Cai^tain Con- 
 viction and Captain Judgment made uj) the main body, and 
 Captain Execution brought up the rear. They then, having 
 a great way to go, (for the towoi of Mansoul 
 was far off from the coiu't of Shaddai,) 
 marched throiigh the regions and countries of many peoi)Ie, 
 not hurting or abusing any, but blessing wherever they 
 came. They also lived upon the King's cost in all the way 
 they went. 
 
 Having travelled thus for many days, at last they came 
 within sight of Mansoul; the which when they saw, the 
 captains could for their hearts do no less than for a while be- 
 wail the condition of the town ; for they quickly saw how 
 that it was prostrate to the will of Diabolus, and to his ways 
 and designs. 
 
 "Well, to be short, the captains came up before the town, 
 march iip to Ear-gate, sit down there, (for that was the place
 
 362 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of liearing.) So, when tliey liad pitched their tents and 
 entrenched themselves, they addressed themselves to make 
 their assault. 
 
 Now the townsfolk at first, beholding so gallant a com- 
 The world are con- P^ny, SO bravely accoutred, and so excel- 
 oZfeilifli^t^ lently disciplined, having on theii- glittering 
 s°^y- armoui', and displaying of their flying 
 
 colours, could not but come out of their houses and gaze. 
 But the cunning fox Diabolvis, fearing that the people, after 
 this sight, should, on a sudden summons, open the gates to 
 the cai^tains, came down with all haste from the castle, and 
 made them retire into the body of the town, who, when he 
 had them there, made this lying and deceivable speech unto 
 them. 
 
 "Gentlemen," quoth he, "although you are my trusty 
 
 T.. , , ,. . and well-beloved friends, yet T camiot but a 
 Diabolus alienates ' •' 
 
 their minds from little chide you for your late uncircumspect 
 
 action, in going out to gaze on that great 
 
 and mighty force that but yesterday sat down before, and 
 
 have now entrenched themselves in order to the maintaining 
 
 of a siege against the famous town of Mansoid. Do j^ou 
 
 know who they are, whence they come, and what is their 
 
 purpose in sitting down before the town of MansoiU ? They 
 
 That's false, ^^'^ thcy of whom I have told you long ago, 
 
 Satan 1 ^j^j^^ ^j^^y ^yQ^j^ comc to destroy this to-ma, 
 
 and against whom I have been at the cost to arm you with 
 
 cap-a-pie for your body, besides great fortifications for your 
 
 mind. Wherefore, then, did you "not rather, even at the 
 
 first appearance of them, cry out. Fire the beacons, and give 
 
 the whole town an alarm concerning them, that we might all 
 
 have been in a posture of defence, and been ready to have 
 
 received them with the highest acts of defiance? Then had 
 
 Satan greatly a- you shewed yourselves men to my liking ; 
 fraid of God's minis- , 
 
 ters, that they will whereas, by what you have done, you nave 
 set Mansoul against , ,....,_ ■, tc e •^ 
 
 him. made me half afraid — 1 say, hali airaiu — 
 
 that when they and we shall come to push a pike, I shall 
 
 find you want courage to stand it out any longer. Where-
 
 THE HOLY WAB, 363 
 
 fore have I commanded a watch, and that yoa should double 
 your guards at the gates? "Wherefore have I endeavoured 
 to make you as hard as iron, and your hearts as a piece of 
 the nether millstone? Was it, think you, that you might 
 shew yourselves women, and that you might go out like a 
 company of innocents to gaze on your mor- He stirs them up 
 tal foes? Fie, fie! put yourselves into a H^mi^-^t^T^ thl 
 posture of defence, beat uj* the drum, gather ^°^'^- 
 together in warlike manner, that our foes may know that, 
 before they shall conquer this corporation, there are vahant 
 men in the to^vn of Mansoul. 
 
 "I will leave off now to chide, and will not fiu-ther rebuke 
 you ; but I charge you, that heucef orwards you let me see 
 no more such actions. Let not henceforward a man of you, 
 without order first obtained from me, so much as shew his 
 head over the wall of the town of Mansoul. You have now 
 heard me ; do as I have commanded, and you shall cause me 
 that I dweU securely with you, and that I take care, as for 
 myself, so for your safety and honour also. Farewell." 
 
 Now were the townsmen strangely altered; When siunors 
 
 they were as men stricken with a panic fear ; thefare s^inl'V*age 
 they ran to and fro through the streets of against godliness, 
 the town of Mansoul, crying out, "Help, help ! the men that 
 turn the world upside down are come hither also." Nor 
 could any of them be quiet after; but stUl, as men bei-eft of 
 wit, they cried out, "The destroyers of our peace and people 
 are come." This went down with Diabolus. "Ay," quoth 
 he to himself, "this I like well: now it is as I would have 
 it; now you shew your obedience to your prince. Hold 
 you but here, and then let them take the town if they can." 
 
 Well, before the King's forces had sat before Mansoul 
 three days. Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to 
 go down to Ear-gate, and there, in the name of the great 
 Shaddai, to summon Mansoul to give audience to the mes- 
 sage that he, in his Master's name, was to them commanded 
 to deliver. So the trumpeter, whose name was Take-heed- 
 what-you-hear, went up, as he was commanded, to Ear-gate,
 
 364 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 and there sounded his trumpet for a hearing; but there was 
 
 none that appeared that gave answer or re- 
 TheywiU not hear. ,, i. ;, t^- -u i jj c. 
 
 gard, for so had Diabolus commanded. So 
 
 the triunpeter returned to his captain, and told him what he 
 
 had done, and also how he had sped ; whereat the captain 
 
 was grieved, but bid the trumpeter go to his tent. 
 
 Again Captain Boanerges sendeth his trumpeter to Ear- 
 gate, to sound as before for a hearing ; but they again kept 
 close, came not cut, nor would they give him an answer, so 
 observant were they of the command of Diabolus their king. 
 
 Then the captains and other field-ofiicers called a coimcil 
 of war, to consider what further was to be done for the gain- 
 ing of the town of Mansoul; and, after some close and 
 thorough debate upon the contents of their commissions, 
 they concluded yet to give to the town, by the hand of the 
 fore-named trumpeter, another summons to hear ; but if that 
 shall be refused, said they, and that the town shall stand it 
 out still, then they determined, and bid the 
 trumpeter tell them so, that they would 
 endeavoiir, by what means they could, to compel them by 
 force to the obedience of theii* King. 
 
 So Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to go up 
 
 to Ear-gate again, and, in the name of the great King 
 
 Shaddai, to give it a very loud summons to come down 
 
 without delay to Ear-gate, there to give aiidience to the 
 
 King's most noble captains. So the trumpeter went, and 
 
 did as he was commanded: he went up to Ear-gate, and 
 
 sounded his trumpet, and gave a third sum- 
 Isaiah Iviii. 1. . Til- 1 TT • 1 j^i i. 
 mons to Mansoul. Jle said, moreover, thar 
 
 if this they should stiU refuse to do, the captains of his 
 Prince woidd with might come down upon them, and endea- 
 vour to reduce them to their obedience by force. 
 
 Then stood up my Lord WillbewiU, who was the governor 
 of the town, (this WillbewiU was that apostate of whom 
 mention was made before,) and the keeper of the gates of 
 Mansoul. He therefore, with big and ruffling words, de- 
 manded of the trumpeter who he was, whence he came, and
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 365 
 
 "what was fhe cause of Ms making so hideous a noise at the 
 gate, and speaking such, insufferable words against the town 
 of MansouL 
 
 The trumpeter answered, " I am servant to the most noble 
 captain, Captain Boanerges, general of the forces of the great 
 King Shaddai, against whom both thyself, with, the whole 
 town of Mansoul, have rebelled, and lift up the heel; and 
 my master, the captain, hath a special message to this town, 
 and to thee as a member thereof; the which if you of Man- 
 sovd shall peaceably hear, so; and if not, you must take 
 what follows." 
 
 Then said the LordWillbewill, " I will carry thy words to 
 my lord, and will know what he will say." 
 
 But the trixmpeter soon replied, saying, " Our message is 
 not to the giant Diabolus, but to the miserable town of Man- 
 soul; nor shall we at aU regard what answer by him is made, 
 nor yet by any for him. We are sent to this town to re- 
 cover it from under his cruel tyranny, and to persuade it to 
 submit, as in former times it did, to the most excellent King 
 Shaddai." 
 
 Then said the Lord Willbewill, "I will do your errand to 
 the town." 
 
 The trumpeter then replied, ' ' Sir, do not deceive us, lest, 
 in so doing, you deceive yourselves much more." He added, 
 moreover, " For we are resolved, if in peaceable manner you 
 do not submit yourselves, then to make a war upon you, and 
 to bring you nnder by force. And of the truth of what I 
 now say, this shall be a sign unto you, — you shall see the 
 black flag, with its hot, burning thunderbolts, set upon the 
 mount to-morrow, as a token of defiance against your prince, 
 and of our resolutions to reduce you to yoiir Lord and right- 
 ful King." 
 
 So the said Lord Willbewill returned from off the wall, and 
 the trumpeter came into the camp. When the trumpeter was 
 come into the camp, the captains and officers of the mighty 
 King Shaddai came together to know if he had obtained a 
 hearing, and what was the effect of his errand. So the
 
 366 THE HOLY WAE, 
 
 trumpeter told, saying, " When I had soimded my trumpet, 
 and had called aloud to the town for a hearing, my Lord 
 WillbewiU, the governor of the town, and he that hath 
 charge of the gates, c'ame up when he heard me sound, and, 
 looking over the wall, he asked me what I was, whence I 
 came, and what was the cause of my making this noise. So 
 I told him my errand, and by whose authority I brought it. 
 ' Then,' said he, 'I will tell it to the governor and to Man- 
 soul;' and then I returned to my lords." 
 
 Carnal souls make Then said the brave Boanerges, "Let us 
 Uo7of'thi''cS*of yet for a while lie stiU in our trenches, and 
 a gospel ministry. ggg ^-j^^^ ^;]jgge rebels wiU do. " 
 
 Now when the time drew nigh that audience by Mansoul 
 must be given to the brave Boanerges and his companions, it 
 was commanded that all the men of war throughout the 
 whole camp of Shaddai should as one man stand to their 
 arms, and make themselves ready, if the town of Mansoul 
 shall hear, to receive it forthwith to mercy ; but if not, to 
 force a subjection. So the day being come, the trumpeters 
 sounded, and that thi'oughout the whole camp, that the men 
 of war might be in a readiness for that which then shoidd be 
 the work of the day. But when they that were in the town 
 of Mansoul heard the sound of the trumpets throughout the 
 camp of Shaddai, and thinking no other but that it must be 
 in order to storm the corporation, they at first were pnt to 
 great consternation of spirit; but after they a little were 
 settled again, they also made what preparation they could 
 for a Avar, if they did storm ; else, to secirre themselves. 
 
 Well, when the utmost time was come, Boanerges was 
 resolved to hear their answer ; wherefore he 
 sent out his trumpeter again to summons 
 Mansoul to a hearing of the message that they had brought 
 from Shaddai. So he went and sounded, and the townsmen 
 came up, but made Ear-gate as sure as they could. Now 
 when they were come up to the top of the wall. Captain 
 Boanerges desired to see the Lord Mayor; but my Lord 
 Incredulity was then Lord Mayor, for he came in the room
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 367 
 
 of my Lord Lustings. So Incredulity came up and she-wed 
 LimseK over the wall ; but when the Captain Boanerges had 
 set his eyes upon him, he cried oiit aloud, "This is not he : 
 where is my Lord Understanding, the ancient Lord Mayor 
 of the town of MansoiU? for to him I would deliver my 
 message." 
 
 Then said the giant (for Diabolus was also come down) to 
 the captain, " Mr Cai)tain, you have by your boldness given 
 to Mansoul at least foiu* summonses to subject herseK to 
 your King, by whose authority I know not, nor will T. dispute 
 that now. I ask, therefore, what is the reason of aU thi,s 
 ado, or what would you be at if you knew yourselves ? " 
 
 Then Captain Boanerges, whose were the black coloiu-s, 
 and whose scutcheon was the three burning Boanerges obtaius 
 thunderbolts, taking no notice of the giant * Clearing. 
 or of his speech, thus addressed himself to the town of Man- 
 sovU : "Be it known unto you, unhappy and rebellious 
 Mansoul, that the most gfclcious King, the great King Shad- 
 dai, my Master, hath sent me unto you with commission" 
 (and so he shewed to the town his broad seal) "to reduce 
 you to his obedience ; and he hath commanded me, in case 
 you yield upon my summons, to carry it to you as if you 
 were my friends or brethren ; but he also hath bid, that if, 
 after summons to submit, you still stand out and rebel, we 
 should endeavour to take you by force." 
 
 Then stood forth Captain Comdction, and said, (his were 
 
 the pale colours, and for a scutcheon he had the book of the 
 
 law wide open, &c.,) "Hear, O Mansoul! Thou, Man. 
 
 soul, wast once famous for innocency, but now thou art 
 
 degenerated into lies and deceit. "Thou Eom. m. lO, 19 23, 
 
 hast heard what my brother, the Captain ^"- ^^' ^®- 
 
 Boanerges, hath saidj and it is your wisdom, and will be 
 
 your happiness, to stoop to, and accept of conditions of peace 
 
 and mercy when offered, specially when offered by one against 
 
 whom thou hast rebelled, and one who is 
 
 . J. J. i-L • • r • oi. J Psalm 1. 21, 22. 
 
 of power to tear thee in pieces, for so is Shad- 
 
 dai, our Kingj nor, when he is angry, can anything stand
 
 368 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 -» 
 
 before him. If you say you have not sinned, or acted rel)el- 
 
 lion against our King, the whole of your doings since the day 
 
 that you cast off his service (and there was the beginning of 
 
 your sin) will sufficiently testify against you. What else 
 
 means your hearkening to the tyi-ant, and your receiving 
 
 him for your king? What means else your rejecting of the 
 
 laws of Shaddai, and your obeying of Diabolus ? Yea, what 
 
 means this your taking up of arms against, and the shutting 
 
 of your gates upon us, the faithful servants of your King? Be 
 
 ruled then, and accept of my brother's invi- 
 Luke xii. 68. 59. ^ ^. ' j_ , ,.■,,. 
 
 tation, and. overstand not the tmie of mercy, 
 
 but agree with thine adversary quickly. Ah, Mansoul, suffer 
 not thyself to be kept from mercy, and to be run into a 
 thousand miseries, by the flattering wiles of Diabolus. Per- 
 haps that piece of deceit may attempt to make you believe 
 that we seek our own profit in this our service ; but know it 
 is obedience to our King, and love to your happiness, that is 
 the cause of this undertaking of ours. 
 
 "Again I say to thee, Mansoul, consider if it be not 
 
 amazing grace that Shaddai should so humble 
 2 Cor. V. lS-21, IP 1 1 +1 VI 
 
 himself as he doth : now he, by us, reasons 
 
 with you, in a way of entreaty and sweet persuasions, that 
 
 you would subject yourselves to him. Has he that need of 
 
 you that we are sure you have of him ? No, no ; but he is 
 
 merciful, and wiU not that Mansoiil should die, but turn to 
 
 him and live." 
 
 Then stood forth Captain Judgment, whose were the red 
 
 colours, and for a scutcheon he had the burning fiery furnace, 
 
 and he said, " ye, the inhabitants of the town of Mansovd, 
 
 that have lived so long in rebellion and acts of treason against 
 
 the King Shaddai, know that we come not to-day to this 
 
 place, in this maimer, with our message of our own minds, 
 
 or to revenge our own quarrel ; it is the King, my Master, 
 
 that hath sent us to reduce you to your obedience to him ; 
 
 the which if you refuse in a peaceable way to yield, we have 
 
 commission to compel you thereto. And never think of your- 
 
 eelvea, nor yet suffer the tyrant Diabolus to persuade you to
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 869 
 
 tliink, that our King, by his power, is not able to bring yon 
 down, and to lay you under his feet ; for he is the former of 
 all things, and if he touches the mountains, they smoke. 
 Nor win the gate of the King's clemency stand always 
 open ; for the day that shall burn like an oven is before 
 him ; yea, it hasteth greatly, it slumbereth ^j^i iv i 
 not. 2 Peter ii. 3. 
 
 " Mansoul, is it little in thine eyes that our King doth 
 
 offer thee mercy, and that after so many provocations? Yea, 
 
 he still holdeth out his golden sceptre to thee, and will not 
 
 yet suffer his gate to be shut against thee : ^ , . ,„ ,„ 
 JO o Job xxxn. 18, 19. 
 
 wilt thou provoke him to do it ? If so. Psalm ix. 7. 
 consider of what I say : to thee it is opened 
 no more for ever. If thou sayest thou shalt not see him, yet 
 judgment is before him ; therefore trust thou in him. Yea, 
 because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away with 
 his stroke ; then a great ransom cannot deliver thee. Will 
 he esteem thy riches ? No, not gold, nor all the forces of 
 strength. He hath prejjared his throne for judgment, for he 
 will come with fire, and with his chariots like a whirlwind, 
 to render his anger with fury, and his rebukes with flames of 
 fire. Therefore, Mansoul, take heed lest, after thou hast 
 fidfilled the judgment of the wicked, justice and judgment 
 should take hold of thee." 
 
 Now while the Captain Judgment was making this oration 
 to the town of Mansoul, it was observed that Diabolus 
 trembled; but he proceeded in his parable and said, "0 
 thou woeful town of Mansoul, wilt thou not yet set open thy 
 gate to receive us, the deputies of thy King, and those that 
 would rejoice to see thee live? Can thine 
 heart endure, or can thy hands be strong in 
 the day that he sh;iU deal in judgment with thee ? I say, 
 canst thou endure to be forced to drink, as one wotdd driuk 
 Bweet wine, the sea of wrath that our King has prepared for 
 Diabolus and his angels ? Consider, betimes consider." 
 
 Then stood forth the fourth captain, the noble Captain 
 Execution, and said, "0 town of Mansoul, once famous, but 
 
 2a
 
 S70 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 now like the fruitless bougli, onco the delight of the high 
 
 oues, but now a den for Diabolus, hearken also to me, and 
 
 to the words that I shall speak to thee in the name of the 
 
 g^^^* Shaddai. Behold, the axe is laid to 
 Matt. m. 7-10, ° . r ji . 
 
 the root oi the trees ; every tree, therefore, 
 
 that bringeth not forth good fniit, is hewn down and cast 
 
 into the fire. 
 
 "Thou, town of Mansoid, hast hitherto been this fruit- 
 less tree; thou bearest naught but thorns and briers. Thy 
 . evil fruit bespeaks thee not to be a good 
 
 tree; thy grapes are grapes of gaU, thy 
 clusters are bitter. Thou hast rebelled against thy King; 
 and, lo ! we, the power and force of Shaddai, are the axe 
 that is laid to thy roots. What sayest thou? Wilt thou 
 turn ? I say again, tell me, before the first blow is given, 
 wilt thou turn ? Our axe must first be laid to thy root before 
 it be laid at thy root : it must first be laid to thy root in a 
 way of threatening, before it is laid at thy root by way of 
 execution; and between these two is required thy repentance, 
 and this is all the time that thou hast. What wilt thou do ? 
 Wilt thou turn, or shaU I smite ? If I fetch my blow, Man- 
 soul, down you go; for I have commission to lay my axe at 
 as well as to thy roots, nor will anything but yielding to our 
 King prevent doing of execution. What art thou fit for, O 
 Mansoul, if mercy preventeth not, but to be hewn down, and 
 cast into the fire and burned ? 
 
 "0 Mansoul, patience and forbearance do not act for ever: 
 
 a year, or two, or three, they may; but if thou provoke by 
 
 a thi-ee years' rebellion, (and thou hast already done more 
 
 than this,) then what follows but, ' Cut it 
 Luke xiii. 8. . , 
 
 down? nay, 'After that thou shalt cut it 
 
 down.' And dost thou think that these are but threaten- 
 
 ings, or that our King has not power to execute his words ? 
 
 Mansoul, thou wilt find that in the words of our King, 
 
 when they are by sinners made little or light of, there fs not 
 
 only threatening, but burning coals of fire. 
 
 " Thou hast been a cumber-ground long already, and wilt
 
 THE HOLY WAR 
 
 371 
 
 f 
 
 thoii continue so still ? Thy sin has brought this army to 
 thy walls, and shall it bring it in judgment to do execution 
 into thy town ? Thou hast heard what the captains have 
 said, but as yet thou shuttest thy gates. Speak out, Man- 
 soul ; wilt thou do so still, or wilt thou accejot of conditions 
 of peace?" 
 
 These brave speeches of these four noble captains the town 
 of Mansoul refused to hear; yet a sound thereof did beat 
 against Ear-gate, though the force thereof could not break it 
 open. In fine, the town desired a time to prepare their 
 answer to these demands. The captains then told them, 
 that if they would throw out to them one Ill-Pause that was 
 in the town, that they might reward him according to his 
 works, then they woidd give them time to consider ; but, if 
 they would not cast him to them over the wall of Mansoul, 
 then they would give them none; "for," said they, "we 
 know that, so long as lU-Paiise draws breath in Mansoid, all 
 good consideration will be confounded, and nothing but mis- 
 chief will come thereon." 
 
 Then Diabolus, who was there present, being loth to lose 
 his Hi-Pause, because he was his orator, (and yet be sure he 
 had, could the captains have laid their fingers on him,) was 
 resolved at this instant to give them answer by himself ; but 
 then changing his mind, he commanded the then Lord Mayor, 
 the Lord Incredulity, to do it, saying, "My lord, do you give 
 these runagates an answer, and speak out, that Mansoul may 
 hear and understand you." 
 
 So Incredulity, at Diabolus' command, began and said, 
 "Gentlemen, you have here, as we do behold, to the dis- 
 turbance of our prince and the molestation of the town of 
 Mansoid, camped against it : but from whence you come, we 
 A\'ill not know ; and what you are, we will not believe. In- 
 deed, you tell us in your terrible speech that you have this 
 authority from Shaddai; but by what right he commands 
 you to do it, of that we shall yet be ignorant. 
 
 "You have also, by the authority aforesaid, summoned 
 this town to desert her lord, and, for protection, to yield up
 
 372 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 herself to the great Shaddai, yoiir King; flatteringly telling 
 her, that if she will do it, he will pass by and not charge her 
 with her past offences. 
 
 "Further, you have also, to the terror of the town of 
 Mansoul, threatened with great and sore destructions to 
 punish this corporation, if she consents not to do as your 
 wills would have her. 
 
 "Now, captains, from whencesoever you come, and 
 The trae picture though your designs be ever so right, yet 
 of unbelief. j,^^^^ yg ^-^^^^ neither my Lord Diabolus, 
 nor I, his servant, Incredulity, nor yet our brave IMansoul, 
 doth regard either your persons, message, or the Kiag that 
 you say hath sent you. His power, his greatness, his 
 vengeance, we fear not; nor wiU we yield at all to yovir 
 summons. 
 
 "As for the war that you threaten to make upon us, we 
 must therein defend ourselves as well as we can ; and know 
 ye, that we are not without wherewithal to bid defiance to 
 you; and, in short, (for I wUl not be tedious,) I teU you, 
 that we take you to be some vagabond runagate crew, that, 
 ha\-ing shaken off aU obedience to your king, have gotten 
 together in tumultuous manner, and are ranging from place 
 to place to see if, through the flatteries you are skilled to 
 make on the one side, and threats wherewith you think to 
 fright on the other, to make some silly town, city, or country, 
 desert their place, and leave it to you ; but Mansoul is none 
 of them. 
 
 "To conclude : we di-ead you not, we fear you not, nor 
 will we obey your siunmons. Our gates we keep shut upon 
 you, our place we will keep you out of. Nor will we long 
 Luke xi 21 *^*^^ suffer you to sit down before us : our 
 people must live in quiet : yoiir appear- 
 ance doth distiu'b them. Wherefore arise with bag and 
 Flesh ^^oS3,ge, and begone, or we will let fly 
 
 from the walls agaiost you." 
 This oration, made by old Incredulity, was seconded by 
 desperate WiUbewill, in words to this effect :— " Gentlemen,
 
 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 373 
 
 ( 
 
 we have heard your demands, and the noise of your threats, 
 and have heard the sound of yoiu' summons ; but we fear not 
 your force, we regard not your threats, but will still abide 
 as you found us. And we command you, that in three days' 
 time you cease to appear in these parts, or you shall know 
 what it is once to dare offer to rouse the lion Diabolus when 
 asleep in his town of Mansoul." 
 
 The Eecorder, whose name was Forget-Good, he also 
 added aa followeth : — "Gentlemen, my lords, as you sec, 
 have with mild and gentle words answered your rough and 
 angry speeches ; they have moreover, in my hearing, given 
 you leave quietly to depart as you came : wherefore, take 
 their kindness and begone. We might have come out with 
 force upon you, and have caused you to feel the dint of our 
 swOrds ; but as we love ease and quiet ourselves, so we love 
 not to hurt or molest others." 
 
 Then did the town of Mansoul shout for joy, as if by 
 Diabolus and his crew some great advantage had been gotten 
 of the captains. They also rang the bells, and made merrj', 
 and danced upon the walls. 
 
 Diabolus also returned to the castle, and the Lord ]\Iayor 
 and Eecorder to their place ; but the Lord Willbewill took 
 special care that the gates shouhl be secured with double 
 guards, double bolts, and double locks and bars j and that 
 Ear-gate especially might the better be looked to, for tliat 
 was the gate in at wliich the King's forces sought most to 
 enter. The Lord Willbewill made one old Mr Prejudice, an 
 angry and ill-conditioucd fellow, captain of the ward at that 
 gate, and piit under his power sixty men, called deaf men ; 
 men advantageous for that service, forasmuch as they 
 mattered no words of the captains, nor of the soldiers. 
 
 ^N'qjv when the captains saw the answer of the great ones, 
 and that they could not get a hearing from the old natives 
 of the town, and that Mansovd was resolved to give the 
 King's army battle, they prepared themselves to receive 
 them, and to try it out by the power of the arm. And, first, 
 they made their force more formidable against Ear-gate j
 
 374 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 for they knew that, unless tliey could penek-ate that, no 
 good could be done upon the town. This done, they put 
 the rest of their men in their places ; after which, they gave 
 out the word, which was, "Ye must be boex again." 
 Then they sounded the trumpet ; then they in the town 
 made them answer, with shoiit against shout, charge against 
 charge, and so the battle began. Now they in the town had 
 planted upon the tower over Ear-gate two great guns, the 
 one called High-mind, and the other Heady. Unto these 
 two g\ms they trusted much : they were cast in the castle 
 l)y Diabolus' founder, whose name was ISlr PufF-up, and mis- 
 chievous ineces they were. But so vigilant and watchful, 
 when the cajjtains saw them, were they, that though some- 
 times their shot woidd go by their ears with a whiz, yet 
 they did them no harm. By these two guns the townsfolk 
 made no question but greatly to annoy the camp of Shaddai, 
 and well enough to secure the gate ; but they had not much 
 cause to boast of what execution they did, as by what fol- 
 lows will be gathered. 
 
 The famous Mansoid had also some other small pieces in 
 it, of the which they made vse against the camp of Shaddai. 
 
 They from the camp also did as stoutly, and with as 
 much of that as may in truth be called valoui-, let fly as fast 
 .at the town and at Ear-gate ; for they saw that, unless they 
 covdd break open Ear-gate, it would be but in vain to batter 
 the wall. Now the King's captains had brought with them 
 several slings, and two or three battering-rams ; with theh' 
 
 The sentence and slings, therefore, they battered the houses 
 power of the Word, ^^^i people of the town, and with theii- 
 rams they sought to break Ear-gate open. 
 
 The camp and the to-\vn had several skirmishes and brisk 
 encounters, while the captains with then- engines made 
 many brave attempts to break open or beat down the tower 
 that was over Ear-gate, and at the said gate to make their 
 entrance ; biit Mansoul stood it out so lustily, through the 
 rage of Diabolus, tlie valour of the Lord WillbewiU, and the 
 conduct of old Incredulity, the Mayor, and Mr Forget Good,
 
 THE HOLY ■WAR, 
 
 375 
 
 i 
 
 tte Recorder, that the charge and expense of that summer's 
 wars, on the King's side, seemed to be almost quite lost, 
 and the advantage to retiu-n to Mansoul. But when the 
 captains saw how it was, they made a fair retreat, and en- 
 trenched themselves in their winter quarters. ISTow in this 
 M^ar, you must needs think there was much loss on both 
 sides, of which be pleased to accept of this brief account 
 following. 
 
 The King's captains, when they marched from the court 
 to come up against Mansoul to wai-, as they came crossing 
 over the country, they happened to light upon three young 
 fellows that had a mind to go for soldiers : proper men they 
 were, and men of courage and skill, to appearance. Their 
 lames were Mr Tradition, Mr Himian-Wisdom, and Mr 
 Man's-Invention. So thay came up to the captains, and 
 proffered their service to Shaddai. The captains then told 
 them of their design, and bid them not to be rash in their 
 offers ; but the yoimg men told them they had considered the 
 thing before, and that hearing they were upon their march 
 for such a design, came hither on purpose to meet them, that 
 they might be listed under their excellencies. Then Captain 
 Boanerges, for that they were men of courage, listed them 
 into his company, and so away they went to the war. 
 
 Now, when the war was begun, in one of the briskest 
 skirmishes, so it was, that a company of the Loi'd Will- 
 bewiU's men sallied out at the sally -j^ort or postern of the 
 town, and feU in upon the rear of Captain Boanerges' men, 
 where these three fellows happened to be ; so they took them 
 prisoners, and away they carried them into the town, where 
 they had not lain long in durance, but it began to be noised 
 about the streets of the town what three notable i)risoners 
 the Lord Willbewill's men had taken, and brought in pri- 
 soners oiit of the camp of Shaddai. At length tidings thereof 
 were carried to Diabolus to the castle, to wit, what my Lord 
 WillbewiU's men had done, and whom they had taken pri- 
 soners. 
 
 Then Diabolus called for WUlbewill, to know the certainty
 
 376 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of this matter. So he asked him, and he told him. Then 
 did the giant send for the prisoners, and, when they were 
 come, demanded of them who they were, whence they came, 
 and what they did in the camp of Shaddai; and they told 
 him. Then he sent them to ward again. Not many days 
 after, he sent for them to him again, and then asked them if 
 they would be willing to serve him against their former cap- 
 tains. They then told him that they did not so much live 
 by religion as by the fates of fortune; and that since his 
 lordship was willing to entertain them, they should be will- 
 ing to serve him. Now while things were thus in hand, 
 there was one Captain Anything, a great doer, in the town 
 of Mansoul; and to this Captain Anything did Diabolus send 
 these men, with a note under his hand, to receive them into 
 his company : the contents of which letter were thus : — 
 
 "Anything, my darling, — The three men that are the 
 bearers of this letter have a desire to serve me in the war : 
 nor know I better to whose conduct to commit them than to 
 thine. Eeceive them, therefore, in my name, and, as need 
 shall require, make use of them against Shaddai and his men. 
 Farewell" 
 
 So they came, and he received them ; and he made of two 
 of them Serjeants; but he made Mr Man's-Invention his 
 ancient -bearer. But thus much for this, and now to return 
 to the camp. 
 
 They of the camp did also some execution upon the town ; 
 
 ^ , , , , for they did beat down the roof of the Lord 
 The roof of old •' 
 
 Incredulity's house Mayor's house, and so laid him more open 
 beat down. _, ,,, ., 
 
 than he was before. They had almost, with 
 
 a sling, slain my Lord WiUbewUl outright; but he made a 
 
 shift to recover again. But they made a notable slaughter 
 
 among the aldermen, for with one only shot they cut off six 
 
 of them; to wit, Mr Swearing, Islr "Whoring, Mi* Fury, Mi- 
 
 Stand-to-Lies, Sir Drunkenness, and Mr Cheating. 
 
 They also dismounted the two guns that stood upon the 
 
 tower over Ear-gate, and laid them flat in the dirt. I told 
 
 you before that the ling's noble captains had dx'awn off to
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 377 
 
 I 
 
 their winter quarters, and had there entrencihed themselves 
 
 and their carriages, so as with the best advantage to their 
 
 King, and the greatest annoyance to the enemy, they might 
 
 give seasonable and warm alarms to the town of Mansoul. 
 
 And this design of them did so hit, that I may say they did 
 
 almost what they would to the molestation of the corporation. 
 
 For now could not Mansoul sleep securely as before, nor 
 
 coidd they now go to their debaucheries with that quietness 
 
 as in times past : for they had from the camp ^, „ ^ , 
 
 >■ > J I The effects of coii- 
 
 of Shaddai such frequent, warm, and terri- victious, though com 
 Jymg alarms, yea, alarms upon alarms, ni-st 
 at one gate and then at another, and again at all the gates at 
 once, that they were broken as to former peace. Yea, they 
 had their alarms so frequently, and that when the nights 
 were at longest, the weather coldest, and so consequently the 
 season most unseasonable, that that winter was to the town 
 of Mansoul a winter by itself. Sometimes the trumpets 
 would sound, and sometimes the slings woiild whirl the 
 stones into the town. Sometimes ten thousand of the King's 
 soldiers would be running round the walls of Mansoid at mid- 
 night, shouting and lifting up the voice for the battle. Some- 
 times, again, some of them in the town would be wounded, 
 and their cry and lamentable voice would be heard, to the 
 great molestation of the now languishing town of Mansoid. 
 Yea, so distressed with those that laid siege against them 
 were they, that, T dare say, Diabolus, their king, had in 
 these days his rest much broken. 
 
 In these days, as I was informed, new thoughts, and 
 thoughts that began to run counter one to another, began to 
 possess the minds of the men of the town of Mansoid. Some 
 would say, "There is no living thus." Others would then 
 reply, "This will be over shortly," Then womd a third 
 stand up and answer, ''Let us turn to the King Shaddai, 
 and so put an end to these troubles." And a fourth would 
 come in with a fear, saying, " I doubt he will not receive 
 ua." The old gentleman too, the Recorder, that was so be- 
 fore Diabolus took Mansoul, he also began to talk aloud, anri
 
 378 THE HOLY WAS. 
 
 Lis words were now to the town of Mansowl as if they were 
 
 Conscience great claps of thunder. No noise now so 
 
 epeakB. terrible to Mansoul as was his, with the 
 
 noise of the soldiers and shoutings of the captains. 
 
 Also things began to grow scarce in Mansoid; now the 
 
 . ^ . . things that her soul lusted after were de- 
 
 A famine in . , 
 
 Mansoul. parting from her. Upon all her pleasant 
 
 Lukexv.14.15. ti- ,. n T ,i • • ^ i 
 
 things there was a blast, and biirnmg instead 
 
 of beauty. Wrinkles now, and some shows of the shadow 
 
 of death, were upon the inhabitants of Mansoul. And now, 
 
 oh how glad woidd Mansoul have been to have enjoyed 
 
 quietness and satisfaction of mind, though joined with the 
 
 meanest condition in the world ! 
 
 The captains also, in the deep of this winter, did send by 
 the mouth of Boanerges' trumpeter ' a summons to Mansoul 
 to yield up herself to the King, the great King Shaddai. 
 They sent it once, and twice, and thrice ; not knowing but 
 that at some times there might be in Mansoid some willing- 
 ness to surrender up themselves unto them, might they but 
 have the colour of an invitation to do it imder. Yea, so far 
 as I could gather, the town had been surrendered up to them 
 before now, had it not been for the opposition of old Incre- 
 didity, and the fickleness of the thoughts of my Lord Wni- 
 bcwdl. Diabolus also began to rave; wherefore Mansoul, 
 as to yielding, was not yet aU of one mind ; therefore they 
 still lay distressed under these perplexing fears. 
 
 I told you but now that they of the King's army had 
 this winter sent three times to MansoiU to submit her- 
 self. 
 
 The first time the trumpeter went, he went with words of 
 peace, telling them that the captains, the noble captains of 
 Shaddai, did pity and bewaU the misery of the now perish- 
 ing town of Mansoul, and were troubled to see them so much 
 to stand in the way of their own deliverance. He said 
 moreover, that the captains bid him tell them, that i£ now 
 poor Mansoul woidd humble herself and turn, her former 
 rebellions and most notorious treasons shoidd, by their merci-
 
 THE HOLY -WAR. 379 
 
 fill King, be forgiven tliem, yea, and forgotten too. Ana 
 havinc bid them beware that they stood not in their own 
 way, that they opposed not themselves, nor made themselves 
 their own losers, he returned again into the camp. 
 
 The second time the trumpeter went, he did treat them a 
 little more roitghly; for, after sound of trumpet, he told 
 them, that then- continuing in their rebellion did but chafe 
 and heat the spirit of the captains, and that they were re- 
 solved to make a conquest of Mansoul, or to lay their bones 
 before the town walls. 
 
 He went again the third time, and dealt with them yet 
 more roughly ; telling them, that now, since they had been 
 so horribly profane, he did not know, not certainly know, 
 whether the captains were inclining to mercy or jadgment. 
 " Only," said he, " they commanded me to give you a sum- 
 mons to open the g£,te3 unto them." So he returned, and 
 went into the camp. 
 
 These three summonses, and especially the last two, did 
 so distress the town, that they presently call a consultation, 
 the result of which was this — That my Lord WUlbewill 
 should go up to Ear-gate, and there, with sound of trumpet, 
 call to the captains of the camp for a parley. Well, the 
 Lord WillbewiU sounded upon the waU; so the captaius 
 came up in their harness, with their ten thousand at their 
 feet. The townsmen then told the captains that they had 
 heard and considered their summons, and would come to an 
 agreement with them, and with their King Shaddai, upon 
 such certain tei'ms, articles, and proi^ositions as, with and 
 by the order of their prince, they to them were appointed to 
 propound ; to wit, they would agree upon these grounds to 
 be one people with them. 
 
 1. If that those of their own company, aa the now Lord 
 ]\Iayor and their Mr Forget-Good, with their brave Lord 
 WillbewiU, might, under Shaddai, be still the governors of 
 the town, castle, and gates of Mansoul. 
 
 2. Provided that no man that now serveth imder their 
 great giant Diabolus be by Shaddai cast out of house, har-
 
 380 -THE HOLT WAB. 
 
 hour, or the freedom that he hath hitherto enjoyed in the 
 famous town of Mansoul. 
 
 3. That it shall be granted them, that they of the town 
 of Mansoul shall enjoy certain of their rights and privileges ; 
 to wit, such as have formerly been granted them, and that 
 they have long lived in the enjoyment of, under the reign of 
 their king Diabolus, that now is, and long has been their 
 only lord and great defender. 
 
 4. That no new law, officer, or executioner of law or office, 
 shall have any power over them, without their own choice 
 and consent. 
 
 "These be our propositions, or conditions of peace; and 
 upon these terms," said they, "we will submit to your 
 King." 
 
 But when the captains had hoard this weak and feeble 
 offer of the town of Mansoxil, and their high and bold de- 
 mands, they made to them again, by their noble captaui, 
 the Captain Boanerges, this speech following : — 
 
 " ye inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, when I heard 
 your trumpet sound for a parley with us, I can truly say I 
 was glad; but when you said you were willing to submit 
 yourselves to our King and Lord, then I was yet more glad : 
 but when, by your silly provisos and foolish cavils, you laid 
 the stumbling-block of your iniquity before your own faces, 
 then was my gladness turned into sorrows, and my hojief ul 
 beginnings of your return, into langiushing, faintiag fears. 
 
 "I count that old Ill-Pa\ise, the ancient enemy of Man- 
 soul, did draw up those proposals that now you present us 
 
 with as terms of an agreement; but thev 
 
 2 Tim. ii. 19. o ' j 
 
 deserve not to be admitted to sound in the 
 
 ear of any man that pretends to have service for ShaddaL 
 
 We do therefore jointly, and that with the highest disdain, 
 
 refuse and reject such things, as the greatest of iniquities. 
 
 ' ' But, Mansoul, if you -svill give yourselves into our 
 
 liauds, or rather into the hands of our King, and wiU trust 
 
 him to make such terms with and for you as shall seem good 
 
 in his eyes, (and I dare say they shall be such as you shall
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 381 
 
 find to be most profitable to you,) then w(S wlII receive yo\\ 
 and be at peace with you; but if you like not to trust your, 
 selves in tlie arnis of Shaddai our King, then things are 
 but where they were before, and we know also what we 
 have to do." 
 
 Then cried out old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor, and said, 
 "And who, being out of the hands of their enemies, as ye 
 see we are now, wiU be so foolish as to jnit the staff out of 
 their own hands into the hands of they know not who ? I, 
 for ray part, will never yield to so luilimited a proposition. 
 Do we know the manner and temper of their King ? It is 
 said by some that he will be angry with his ijnbelief nexer is 
 subjects if biit the breadth of an hair they ^t^'a^l^lys^sS 
 chance to step out of the way; and by imschierously. 
 others, that he requireth of them much more than they can 
 perform. Wherefore, it seems, Mansoul, to be thy wisdom 
 to take good heed what thou dost in this matter ; for if you 
 once yield, you give up yourselves to another, and so you are 
 no more your own. Wherefore, to give up yourselves to an 
 \mlimited power, is the greatest folly in the world ; for now 
 you indeed may repent, but can never justly complain. But 
 do you indeed know, when you are his, which of you he wiU 
 kill, and which of you he will save alive ? or whether he will 
 not cut off every one of us, and send out of his own country 
 another new people, and cause them to inhabit this town?" 
 
 This speech of the Lord Llayor undid all, and threw Hat 
 to the ground their hojies of an accord. Wherefore the 
 captains returned to their trenches, to their tents, and to 
 theix- men, as they were ; and the Mayor to the castle and to 
 his king. 
 
 Now Diabolus had waited for his return, for he had heard 
 that they had been at their points. So, when he was come 
 into the chamber of state, Diabolus saluted him with, — ■ 
 "Welcome, my lord. How went matters betwixt you to- 
 day?" So the Lord Incredulity, with a low congee, told 
 him the whole of the matter, saying, "Thus and thus said 
 the captains of Shaddai, and thus and thus said I." The
 
 S82 THE HOIY WAR. 
 
 •which when it was told to Diabolus, he was very glad to 
 hear it, and said, "My Lord Mayor, my faithful Incredulity, 
 I have proved thy fidehty above ten times already, but never 
 yet found thee false. I do promise thee, if we rub over this 
 brunt, to prefer thee to a place of honour, a place far better 
 than to be Lord Mayor of Mansoul. I will make thee my 
 universal deputy, and thou shalt, next to me, have aU nations 
 under thy hand ; yea, and thou shalt lay bands upon them, 
 that they may not resist thee ; nor shall any of our vassals 
 walk more at liberty, but those that shall be content to walk 
 in thy fetters." 
 
 Now came the Lord Mayor out from Diabolus, as if he had 
 obtained a favour indeed. Wherefore to his habitation ho 
 goes in great state, and thinks to feed himself well enough 
 with hopes, until the time came that his greatness should be 
 enlarged. 
 
 But now, though the Lord Mayor and Diabolus did well 
 agree, yet this repulse to the brave captains put Mansoul 
 into a mutiny. For while old Incredulity went into the 
 castle to congratulate his lord with what had passed, the old 
 
 The understand- Lord Mayor, that was so before Diabolus 
 ing and conscience _„..„„ 4.„ x-u x j. -j. t t tt i 
 
 begin to receive con- ^ame to the town, to Wit, my Lord Under- 
 lie 'eo^a to *a'huS- standing, and the old Recorder, Mr Cou- 
 .''"''• science, getting intelligence of what had 
 
 passed at Ear-gate, (for you must know that they might not 
 be suffered to be at that debate, lest they should then have 
 mutinied for the captains ; but, I say, they got intelligence 
 of what had passed there, and were much concerned there- 
 with,) wherefore they, getting some of the town together, 
 began to possess them with the reasonableness of the noble 
 captains' demands, and with the bad consequences that would 
 follow upon the speech of old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor ; 
 to wit, how little reverence he shewed therein either to the 
 captahis or to their King ; also how he implicitly charged 
 them with imfaithfulness and treachery. "For what less," 
 quoth they, " could be made of his words, when he said he 
 would not yield to their proposition, and added, moreover,
 
 THE HOLY WAB. 
 
 383 
 
 a supposition tliat he would destroy us, wlien before lie had 
 sent U3 word that he would shew us mercy?" The multi- 
 tude, being now possessed with the conviction of the evil 
 that old Increduhty had done, began to run ^ mutiny in 
 together by companies in all places, and in MausoiU. 
 every comer of the streets of Mansoul ; and first they began 
 to mutter, then to talk openly, and after that they run to 
 and fro, and cried as they run, "Oh the brave captains of 
 Shaddai ! would we were imder the government of the cap- 
 tains, and of Shaddai their King ! " When the Lord Mayor 
 had intelUgence that Mansoul was in an uproar, down he 
 comes to appease the people, and thought to have quashed 
 their heat with the bigness and the show of his countenance ; 
 but when they saw him, they came running upon him, and had 
 doubtless done him a mischief, had he not betaken himself 
 to house. However, they strongly assaulted the house where 
 he was, to have pixlled it down about his ears ; but the place 
 was too strong, so they failed of that. So he, taking some 
 courage, addressed himself, out at a window, to the people 
 in this manner : — 
 
 " Gentlemen, what is the reason that there is here such an 
 ui)roar to-day?" 
 
 Then answered my Lord Understanding: — "It is even 
 because that thou and thy master have carried it not rightly, 
 and as you should, to the captains of Shaddai ; for in three 
 things you are faulty. First, In that you would not let Mr 
 Conscience and myself be at the hearing of your discourse. 
 Secondly, In that you propounded such terms of peace to the 
 captains that by no means could be granted, iinless they had 
 intended that their Shaddai should have been only a titular 
 prince, and that Mansoul should stiU have had power by law 
 to have lived in aU lewdness and vanity before him, and so 
 by consequence Diabolus should still here be king in i)ower, 
 and the other only king in name. Thirdly, For that thou 
 didst thyself, after the captains had shewed us upon what 
 conditions they would have received us to mercy, even imdo all 
 again with thy unsavoury, unseasonable, and ungodly speech."
 
 884 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 Wlien old Incredulity liad hoard tliis speech, he cried out, 
 
 Sin and the Boul "Treason! treason! To your arms ! to 
 
 at odds. yp^j, j^j.jj^g, Q yg^ ^j^g ^^g^ friends of 
 
 Diabohis in Mansoul ! " 
 
 Und. "Sir, you may put upon my words what meaning 
 you please ; but I am sure that the captains of such a high 
 Lord as theirs is, deserved a better treatment at your hands." 
 
 Then said old Incredulity, ' ' This is but little better. But, 
 sir," quoth he, "what I spake I spake for my prince, for his 
 government, and the quieting of the people, whom by your 
 unlawful actions you have this day set to mutiny against 
 us." 
 
 Then repHed the old Recorder, whose name was Mr Con- 
 science, and said, "Sir, you ought not thus to retort upon 
 what my Lord Understanding hath said. It is evident 
 enough that he hath spoken the truth, and that you are an 
 enemy to Mansoul. Be convinced, then, of the evil of your 
 saucy and malapert language, and of the grief that you have 
 put the captains to ; yea, and of the damages that you have 
 done to Mansoul thereby. Had you accepted of the condi- 
 tions, the soujid of the trumpet and the alarm of war had 
 now ceased about the town of Mansoul : but that dreadful 
 sound abides, and your want of wisdom in your speech has 
 been the cause of it." 
 
 Then said old Incredulity, "Si^ if I live, I will do your 
 errand to Diabolus, and there you shaU have an answer to 
 your words. Meanwhile we wiU seek the good of the town, 
 and not ask counsel of you." 
 
 Und. "Sir, your prince and you are both foreigners to 
 Mansoul, and not the natives thereof ; and who can tell but 
 that, when you have brought iis into greater straits, (when 
 you also shall see that yourselves can be safe by no other 
 means than by flight,) you may leave us and shift for your- 
 selves, or set us on fii'e, and go away in the smoke, or by the 
 light of our burning, and so leave us in our ruins ?" 
 
 Incred. "Sir, you forget that you are under a governor, 
 and that you ought to demean yourself like a subject ; and
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 585 
 
 know ye, 'wlien my lord the king shall hear of this day's work, 
 he will give you but little thanks for yoiir labour," 
 
 Now while these gentlemen were thus in their chiding 
 words, down come from the walls and gates of the town the 
 Lord WiUbewill, Mr Prejudice, old lU-Pause, and several of 
 the new-made aldermen and burgesses, and they asked the 
 reason of the hubbub and tumult ; and with that every man 
 began to tell his own tale, so that nothing could be heard 
 distinctly. Then was a silence commanded, and the old fox 
 Incredulity began to speak. "My lord," quoth he, "here 
 are a couple of peevish gentlemen, that have, as a fmit of 
 their bad dispositions, and, as I fear, through the ad%'ice of 
 one Mr Discontent, tumultuously gathered this company 
 against me this day, and also attempted to rim the town into 
 acts of rebellion against our prince." 
 
 Then stood up all the Diabolonians that were present, and 
 afSrmed these things to be true. 
 
 Now when they that took pai-t with my Lord Understand- 
 ing and with Mr Conscience perceived that they were like to 
 come to the worst, for that force and power was on the other 
 side, they came in for their help and reUef ; so a great com- 
 pany was on both sides. Then they on Incredulity's side 
 would have had the two old gentlemen presently away to 
 prison; but they on the other side said they should not. 
 Then they began to cry up parties again : the Diabolonians 
 cried up old Incredulity, Forget-Good, the new aldermen, 
 and their great one Diabolus ; and the other party, they as 
 fast cried up Shaddai, the captains, his laws, their merciful- 
 ness, and applauded their conditions and ways. Thus the 
 bickerment went awhile ; at last they passed from words to 
 blows, and now there were knocks on both sides. The good 
 old gentleman, !Mr Conscience, was knocked down twice by 
 one of the Diabolonians, whose name was Mr Benumbing ; 
 and my Lord Understanding had Uke to have been slain with 
 an arquebuse, but that he that shot did not take his aim 
 aright. Nor did the other side wholly escape ; for there 
 was one Mr Eashhead, a Diabolonian, that had his brains 
 
 2 B
 
 386 TRE HOLY WAPw 
 
 beaten out by Mr Mind, the Lord Willbemll's servant : and 
 it made me laugh to see bow old Mr Prejudice was kicked and 
 tumbled about in the dirt ; for though, a while since, he was 
 made captain of a company of the Diabolonians, to the hurt 
 and damage of the town, yet now they had got him under 
 their feet, and, I 'II assure you, he had, by some of the Lord 
 Understanding's party, his crown cracked to boot. Mr Any- 
 thing also, he became a brisk man in the broil ; but both 
 sides were against him, because he was true to none. Yet 
 he had, for his malapertness, one of his legs broken, and he 
 that did it wished it had been his neck. Much more harm 
 was done on both sides, but this must not be forgotten ; it 
 was now a wonder to see my Lord WQlbewiU so indifferent 
 as he was : he did not seem to take one side more than an- 
 other, only it was perceived that he smiled to see how old 
 Prejudice was tumbled up and down in the dirt. Also, when 
 Captain Anything came halting up before him, he seemed to 
 take but little notice of him. 
 
 Now, when the uproar was over, Diabolus sends for my 
 Lord Understanding and Mr Conscience, and claps them both 
 lip in prison as the ringleaders and managers of this most 
 heavy, riotous rout in Mansoul. So now the town began to 
 be quiet again, and the prisoners were used hardly ; yea, he 
 thought to have made them away, but that the present junc- 
 ture did not serve for that purpose, for that war was in all 
 their gates. 
 
 But let us return again to our story. The captains, when 
 they were gone back from the gate, and were come into the 
 camp again, called a council of war, to consult what was further 
 for them to do. Now, some said, " Let us go up presently, 
 and fall upon the tovni;" but the greatest part thought 
 rather better it woidd be to give them another summons to 
 yield ; and the reason why they thought this to be best was, 
 because that, so far as could be perceived, the town of Man- 
 soul now was more inclinable than heretofore. "And if," 
 said they, ' ' while some of them are in a way of inclination, 
 we should by ruggedness give them distaste, we may set
 
 I
 
 Tfie King's Trumpeter at the gate of Mansoul.-flo/y »r,ir, page 337.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 387 
 
 them further from closing with our summons than we would 
 be willing they should." 
 
 Wherefore to this advice they agreed, and called a trum- 
 peter, put words into his mouth, set him his time^ and bid 
 him God speed. Well, many hoiu's were not expired before 
 the trumpeter addressed himself to his journey. Wherefore, 
 coming up to the wall of the town, he steereth his coui'se to 
 Ear-gate, and there sounded, aa he was commanded. They 
 then that were within came out to see what was the matter, 
 and the trumpeter made them this speech following : — 
 
 " hard-hearted and deplorable town of Mansoul, how 
 long wilt thou love thy sinful, einfiil simplicity? and, ye 
 fools, delight in your scorning ? As yet despise you the 
 offers of peace and deliverance ? Aa yet will ye refuse the 
 golden offers of Shaddai, and trust to the lies and falsehoods 
 of Diabolus? Think you, when Shaddai shall have con- 
 quered you, that the remembrance of these your carriages 
 towards him wiU yield you peace and comfort, or that, by 
 ruffling language, you can make him afraid as a grasshopper ? 
 Doth he entreat you for fear of you ? Do you think that 
 j'^ou are stronger than he ? Look to the heavens, and behold 
 and consider the stars, how high are they ? Can you stop 
 the sun from rurming his course, and hinder the moon from 
 giving her light ? Can yoii count the number of the stars, or 
 stay the bottles of heaven ? Can j'ou call for the waters of 
 the sea, and cause them to cover the face of the ground? 
 Can you behold every one that is proud, and abase him, and 
 bind their faces in secret ? Yet these are some of the works of 
 our Kiug, in whose name this day we come up unto you, that 
 youmay bebroughtunderhisauthority. Inhisname, therefore, 
 I summon you again to yield up yourselves to his captains." 
 
 At this summons the Mansoulians seemed to be at a stand, 
 and knew not what answer to make. Wherefore Diabolus 
 forthwith appeared, and took upon him to do it himself; and 
 thus he begins, but turns his speech to them of Mangoul. 
 
 "Gentlemen," quoth he, " and my faithful subjects, if it 
 is true that this summoner hath said concerning the great-
 
 388 THE HOLY -WAR. 
 
 ness of their King, by his terror you will always be kept in 
 bondage, and so be made to sneak. Yea, how can you now, 
 though he is at a distance, endure to think of such a mighty 
 one ? And if not to think of him while at a distance, how 
 can you endure to be in his presence ? I, your prince, am 
 familiar with you, and you may play with me as you woiild 
 with a grasshopper. Consider, therefore, what is for your pro- 
 fit, and remember the immunities that I have granted you. 
 
 "Further, if all be true that this man hath said, how 
 comes it to pass that the subjects of Shaddai are so enslaved 
 in all places where they come ? None in the Universe so un- 
 happy as they, none so trampled upon as they. 
 
 "Consider, my Mansoul: would thou wert as loth to 
 leave me as I am loth to leave thee. But consider, I say, 
 the ball is yet at thy foot; liberty you have, if you know 
 how to use it ; yea, a king you have too, if you can teU how 
 to love and obey him." 
 
 Upon this speech, the town of Mansoul did again harden 
 their hearts yet more against the captains of Shaddai. The 
 thoughts of his greatness did quite quash them, and the 
 thoughts of his holiness sunk them in despair. Wherefore, 
 after a short consult, they (of the Diabolonian party they 
 were) sent back this word by the trumpeter. That, for their 
 parts, they were resolved to stick to their king, but never to 
 yield to Shaddai ; so it was but in vain to give them any 
 further summons, for they had rather die upon the place 
 than yield. And now things seemed to be gone quite back, 
 and Mansoul to be out of reach or call; yet the captains, 
 who knew what their Lord coxdd do, would not yet be beat 
 out of heart; they therefore sent them another summons, 
 more sharp and severe than the last; but the oftener they 
 were sent to, to reconcile to Shaddai, the further off they 
 were. "As they called them, so they went 
 ' ' from them — yea, though they called them 
 to the Most High." 
 
 So they ceased that way to deal with them any more, and 
 inclined to thiiik of another way. The captains, therefore.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 389 
 
 did gather tliemselves together, to have free conference 
 among themselves, to know what was yet to be done to gam 
 the town, and to deliver it from the tyranny of Diabolus ; 
 and one said after this manner, and another after that. 
 Then stood vip the right noble the Captain Conviction, and 
 said, " My brethren, mine opinion is this : — 
 
 "First, That we continually play our slings into the town, 
 and keep it in a continual alarm, molesting them day and 
 night. By thus doing, we shall stoj) the growth of their 
 rampant spirit ; for a lion may be tamed by continual mo- 
 lestation. 
 
 " Secondly, This done, I advise that, in the next place, we 
 with one consent draw up a petition to our Lord Shaddai, by 
 which, after we have shewed our King the condition of Man- 
 soul and of affairs here, and have begged his pardon for our 
 no better success, we will earnestly implore his Majesty's 
 help, and that he wiU please to send us more force and power, 
 and some gallant and well spoken commander to head them, 
 that so his Majesty may not lose the benefit of these his good 
 beginnmgs, but may complete his conquest upon the town of 
 Mansoul." 
 
 To this speech of the noble Captain Conviction they as one 
 man consented, and agreed that a petition should forthwith 
 be drawn up, and sent by a fit man away to Shaddai with 
 speed. The contents of the petition were thus : — 
 
 "Most gracious and glorious king, the Lord of the best 
 
 world, and the builder of the town of Mansoid, we have, 
 
 dread Sovereign, at thy commandment, put oiu* lives in 
 
 jeopardy, and at thy bidding made a war upon the famous 
 
 town of Mansoid. "When we went up against it, we did, 
 
 according to our commission, first offer conditions of peace 
 
 imto it. But they, great Iving, set light by 
 
 1 , , , . , Matt. xxii. 5. 
 
 our counsel, and would none of our reproof. Prov. i. 
 
 They were for shutting their gates, and for ^^^^^ '"• ^°"^^- 
 keeping us out of the town. They also moimted their guns, 
 they sallied out upon us, and have done us what damage 
 they could ; but we pursued them with alarm upon alarm.
 
 390 THE HOLY "WAE, 
 
 requitiug tliem witli sucli retribution as was meet, and have 
 done some execution upon the town. 
 
 " Diabolus, Incredulity, and Willbewill are the great doera 
 against us : now Ave are in our winter quarters, but so as that 
 we do yet with a high hand molest and distress the toAvn. 
 
 " Once, as we think, had we had but one substantial friend 
 in the town, such as woidd but have seconded the sound of 
 our summons as they ought, the people might have yielded 
 themselves ; but there were none but enemies there, nor any 
 to speak in behalf of our Lord to the town. Wherefore, 
 though we have done as we could, yet Mansoul abides in a 
 state of rebellion against thee. 
 
 O 
 
 "Now, King of kings, let it please thee to pardon the 
 unsuccessfulness of thy servants, who have been no more 
 advantageous in so desirable a work as the conquering of 
 Mansoul is. And send. Lord, as we now desire, more forces 
 to Mansoul, that it may be subdued; and a man to head 
 them, that the town may both love and fear. 
 
 " We do not thus speak because we are willing to relinquish 
 the wars, (for we are for laying of our bones against the place, ) 
 but that the town of Mansoul may be won for thy Majesty. 
 We also pray thy Majesty, for expedition in this matter, that, 
 after their conquest, we may be at liberty to be sent about 
 other thy gi'acious designs. Amen." 
 
 The petition, thus di'awn up, was sent away with haste to 
 the King by the hand of that good man, Mr Love-to-Mansoul. 
 
 When this petition was come to the palace of the King, 
 who shoidd it be delivered to but to the King's Son ? So he 
 took it and read it, and because the contents of it pleased 
 him Avell, he mended, and also in some things added to the 
 petition himself. So, after he had made such amendments and 
 additions as he thought convenient with his own hand, he car- 
 ried it into the King ; to whom when he had with obeisance 
 delivered it, he put on authoritj', and spake to it himself. 
 
 Now the King, at the sight of the petition, was glad ; but 
 how much more, think you, when it was seconded by his 
 Son! It pleased him also to hear that his sei-vants who
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 391 
 
 camped against Mansoul were so Learty iu tlie work, and so 
 steadfast in their resolves, and that they had abeady got 
 some ground upon the famous town of Mansoul, 
 
 Wherefore the King called to him Emmanuel, his Son, who 
 said, " Here am I, my Father," Then said the King, "Thou 
 knowest, as I do myself, the condition of the town of Man- 
 soul, and what we Iwve purposed, and what thou hast done 
 to redeem it. Come now therefore, my Son, and prepare 
 thyself for the war, for thou shalt go to my camp at Man- 
 soul. Thou shalt also there prosper and prevail, and con- 
 quer the town of Mansoul." 
 
 Then said the King's Son, " Thy law is within my heart : 
 I delight to do thy wiU, This is the day 
 that I have longed for, and the work that I 
 have waited for all this while. Grant me, therefore, what 
 force thou shalt in thy wisdom think meet ; and I will go 
 and will deliver from Diabolus, and from his power, thy 
 perishing town of Mansoul. My heart has been often pained 
 within me for the miserable town of Mansoul ; but now it is 
 rejoiced, but now it is glad." And with that he leaped over 
 the mountains for joy, saying, "I have not, in my heart, 
 thought anything too dear for Mansoul : the day of vengeance 
 is in mine heart for thee, my Mansoul ; and glad am I that 
 thou, my Father, hast made me the Captain 
 of their salvation. And I will now begin 
 to plague all those that have been a plague to my town of 
 Mansoul, and wiU deliver it from then- hand," 
 
 When the King's Son had said thus to his Father, it pre- 
 sently flew like lightning round about at court : yea, it there 
 became the only talk what Emmanuel was to go to do for 
 the famoiis town of Mansoul. But you cannot think how 
 the courtiers, too, were taken with this design of the Prince ; 
 yea, so affected were they with this work, and with the 
 justness of the war, that the highest lord and greatest peer 
 of the kingdom did covet to have commissions under Em' 
 manuel, to go to help to recover again to Shaddai the miser- 
 able town of Mansoul.
 
 392 
 
 THE HOLY WAS. 
 
 Tlieu was it concluded that some elioiild go and caiTy 
 tidings to the camp, that Emmanuel was to come to recover 
 Mansoul, and that he would bring along with him so mighty, 
 so impregnable a force, that he could not be resisted. But, 
 oh, how ready were the high ones at court to run like 
 lacqueys to carry these tidings to the camp that was at 
 Mansoul ! Now, Avhen the captains perceived that the King 
 would send Emmanuel his Son, and that it also delighted 
 the Son to be sent on this errand by the great Shaddai his 
 Father, they also, to shew how they were pleased at the 
 thoughts of his coming, gave a shout that made the earth 
 rend at the sound thereof. Yea, the mountains did answer 
 again by echo, and Diabolus himseK did totter and shake. 
 
 For you must know, that though the town of Mansoid 
 itself was not much, if at all concerned with the project, 
 (for, alas for them ! they were woefvdly besotted, for they 
 chieiiy regarded their pleasure and their lusts,) yet Diabolus 
 their governor was ; for he had his spies continually abroad, 
 who brought him intelligence of all things, and they told 
 him what was doing at court against him, and that Em- 
 manuel would shortly certaiuly come with a power to invade 
 him. Nor was there any man at court, nor peer of the 
 kingdom, that Diabolus so feared as he feared this Prince ; 
 for, if you remember, I shewed you before that Diabolus 
 had felt the weight of his hand already; so that, since it 
 was he that was to come, this made him the more afraid. 
 
 Well, you see how I have told you that the King's Son 
 was engaged to come from the coiu-t to save Mansoid, and 
 that his Father had made him the Captain of the forces. 
 The time, therefore, of his setting forth being now expired, 
 he addressed himseK for his march, and taketh with him, 
 for his power, five noble captains and their forces. 
 
 1. The first Avas that famous cax^tain, the noble Captain 
 
 John i. 29. Credence. His were the red coloiu-s, and 
 
 Epb. VI. 16. ]^jj. Promise bare them ; and for a scutcheon 
 
 he had the holy lamb and golden shield ; and he had teu 
 
 thousand men at his feet.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 393 
 
 2. The second was that famous captain, the Captain 
 Good-Hope, His were the blue colours : 
 
 his standard-bearer was Mr Expectation, 
 
 and for a scutcheon he had the three golden anchors ; and 
 
 he had ten thousand men at his feet. 
 
 3. Ths third was that valiant captain, the Captain 
 Charity. His standard-bearer was Mr Piti- 
 ful : his were the green colours, and for " ^^' 
 his scutcheon he had three naked orphans embraced in the 
 bosom ; and he had ten thousand men at his feet. 
 
 4. The fourth was that gallant commander, the Captain 
 Innocent. His standard-bearer was Mr 
 
 Harmless : his were the white colours, and 
 
 for his scutcheon he had the three golden doves. 
 
 5. The fifth was the tiiily loyal and well-beloved captain, 
 the Captain Patience. His standard-bearer was Mr Suifer- 
 Long : his were the black colours, and for a scutcheon he 
 had three arrows through the golden heart. 
 
 These were Emmanuel's captains ; these their standard- 
 bearers, their colours, and their scutcheons; and these the 
 men under their command. So, as was said, the brave 
 
 Prince took his march to go to the town ^ .„ 
 
 ^ , . ^° ■,-,, raith and patieuco 
 
 of Mansoiu. Captain Credence led the do the work. 
 
 van, and Captain Patience brought up the 
 
 rear ; so the other three, with their men, made up the main 
 
 body, the Prince himself riding in his chariot at the head of 
 
 tlicm. 
 
 But when they set out for their march, oh, how the 
 trumpets soimded, their armour glittered, and how the 
 colours waved in the wind ! The Prince's annoiu- was all of 
 gold, and it shone hke the sun in the firmament ; the cap- 
 tains' armour was of proof, and was in appearance like the 
 ghttering stars. There were also some from the coiu't that 
 rode reformades for the love that they had to the Kin^'' 
 Shaddai, and for the happy deliverance of the town of Mau- 
 soul. 
 
 Emmanuel also, when he had thus set forwarrls to go to
 
 394 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 recover the town of Mansoul, took -vnth him, at the com« 
 
 mandment of his Father, fifty-four batteriug-rama, and twelve 
 
 mv. TT 1 T>-vi slings to whirl stones withaL Every one of 
 The Holy Bible, ° •' 
 
 containing sixty-six these was made of piire sold, and these 
 books. -^ ° 
 
 they carried with them, ia the heart and 
 
 body of their army, all along as they went to Mansotd. 
 
 So they marched tOl they came within less than a league 
 of the town, and there they lay till the first four captains 
 came thither to acquaint them with matters. Then they 
 took their journey to go to the town of Mansoul, and unto 
 iSIansoul they came ; but when the old soldiers that were in 
 the camp saw that they had new forces to join with, they 
 again gave such a shout before the walls of the town of Man- 
 soul, that it put Diabolus into another fright. So they sat 
 down before the town, not now as the other four captains 
 did, to wit, against the gates of Mansoul only ; but they 
 environed it round on every side, and beset it behind and 
 before ; so that now, let MansoiQ look which way it wUl, it 
 saw force and power lie in siege against it. Besides, there 
 were mounts cast up against it. The Moimt Gracious was 
 on the one side, and Mount Justice was on the other. Fur- 
 ther, there were several small banks and advance-grounds, 
 as Plain-Truth Hill and No-Sin Banks, where many of the 
 slings were placed against the town. Upon Mount Gracious 
 were planted four, and upon Moimt Justice were placed as 
 many, and the rest were conveniently placed in several parts 
 round about the town. Five of the best battering-rams, that 
 is, of the biggest of them, were placed upon Llount Hearken, 
 a mount cast up hard by Ear-gate, with intent to break that 
 open. 
 
 Now when the men of the town saw the multitude of the 
 soldiers that were come up against the place, and the rams 
 and slings, and the mounts on which they were planted, 
 together with the glittering of the ai-mour and the waving of 
 their colours, they were forced to shift, and shift, and again 
 to shift their thoughts ; but they hardly changed for thoughts 
 more stout, but rather for thoughts more faint ; for though
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 395 
 
 before they thouglit themselves sufficiently guarded, yet now 
 they began to think that no man knew what would be their 
 hap or lot. 
 
 When the good Prince Emmanuel had thus beleaguered 
 Mansoul, in the first place he hangs out the white flag, 
 which he caused to be set vip among the golden slings that 
 were planted upon Mount Gracious. And this he did for 
 two reasons : 1. To give notice to Mansoid that he could 
 and would yet be gracious if they tiirned to him. 2. And 
 that he might leave them the more without excuse, should 
 he destroy them, they continuing in their rebellion. 
 
 So the white flag, with the three golden doves in it, was 
 hung out for two days together, to give them time and space to 
 consider ; but they, as was hinted before, as if they were uncon- 
 cerned, made no reply to the favourable signal of the Prince. 
 
 Then he commanded, and they set the red flag upon that 
 mount called Mount Justice. It was the red flag of Captain 
 Judgment, whose scutcheon was the burning fiery furnace ; 
 and this also stood waving before them in the wind for 
 several days together. But look how they carried it under 
 the white flag, when that was hung oiit, so did they also 
 when the red one was ; and yet he took no advantage of them. 
 
 Then he commanded again that his servants should hang 
 
 out the black flag of defiance against them, whose scutcheon 
 
 was the three burning thimderbolts ; but as unconcerned 
 
 was Llansoul at this as at those that went before. But 
 
 when the Prince saw that neither mercy nor judgment, nor 
 
 execiition of judgment, would or could come near the heart 
 
 of Mansovd, he was touched with much compunction, and 
 
 said, " Surely this strange carriage of the town of Mansoul 
 
 doth rather arise from ignorance of the manner and feats of 
 
 Avar, than from a secret defiance of us, and „, . ^ 
 
 ' ' Christ makes not 
 
 abhorrence of their o'wn lives; or if they war as the world 
 
 does. 
 know the manner of the war of their own, 
 
 yet net the rites and ceremonies of the wars in which we are 
 
 concerned, when I make wars iipon mine enemy Diabolus. " 
 
 Therefore he sent to the town of Mansoul, to let them
 
 396 
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 know what lie meant by those signs and ceremonies of the 
 flag; and also to know of them wliich of the things they 
 would choose, whether grace and mercy, or judgment and 
 the execution of judgment. All this while they kept their 
 gates shut with locks, bolts, and bars, as fast as they could. 
 Their guards also were doubled, and their watch made as 
 strong as they coidd. Diabolus also did pluck iip what heart 
 he coidd, to encourage the towTi to make resistance. 
 
 The townsmen also made answer to the Prince's messenger, 
 in substance according to that which follows : — 
 
 "Great Sir, — As to what, by your messenger, you have 
 signitied to us, whether we will accept of your mercy, or fall 
 by your justice, we are bound by the law and custom of 
 this place, and can give you no positive answer ; for it is 
 against the law, government, and the prerogative royal of 
 our king, to make either peace or war without him. But 
 this we vsdll do, — we will petition that our prince will come 
 down to the wall, and there give you such treatment as he 
 shall think fit and x)rofitable for us." 
 
 When the good Prince Emmanuel heard this answer, and 
 saw the slavery and bondage of the peoi^le, and how much 
 content they were to abide in the chains of the tyrant Dia- 
 bolus, it grieved him at the heart ; and, indeed, Avhen at any 
 time he perceived that any were contented imder the slavery 
 of the giant, he would be affected with it. 
 
 But to retiu-n again to our purpose. After the town had 
 carried this news to Diabolus, and had told him, moreover, 
 that the Prince, that lay in the leaguer without the wall, 
 waited upon them for an answer, he refused, and huffed 
 as well as he could ; but in heart he was afraid. 
 
 Then said he, " I will go down to the gates myself, and 
 give him such an answer as I think fit." So he went down 
 to Mouth-gate, and there addressed himself to speak to 
 Emmanuel, (but in such language as the town xuiderstood 
 not,) the contents whereof were as follows : — 
 
 " O thou great Emmanuel, Lord of all the world, I know 
 thee, that thou art the Son of the great Shaddai .' Where-
 
 THE HOLY WAS. 397 
 
 fore art thou come to torment me, and to cast me out of 
 my possession ? This town of Mansoul, as tlioii very well 
 knowest, is mine, and that by a twofold right. 1. It is 
 mine by right of conquest ; I won it in the open field : and 
 shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful cap- 
 tive be delivered ? 2. This town of Mansoul is mine also by 
 their subjection. They have opened the gates of their town 
 unto me ; they have sworn fidelity to me, and have openly 
 chosen me to be their king; they have also given their 
 castle into my hands; yea, they have fjut 
 the whole strength of Mansoul tmder me. 
 
 "Moreover, this town of Mansoul hath disavowed thee; 
 yea, they have cast thy law, thy name, thy image, and all 
 that is thine, behind their back, and have accepted and set 
 lip in their room my law, my name, my image, and all that 
 ever is mine. Ask else thy captains, and they will tell thee 
 that Mansoid hath, in answer to all their summonses, shewn 
 love and loyalty to me ; but always disdain, despite, contempt, 
 and scorn to thee and thine. Now, thou art the Just One 
 and the Holy, and shoiddest do no iniquity. Depart, then, 
 I pray thee, therefore, from me, and leave me to my just 
 inheritance peaceably." 
 
 This oration was made in the language of Diabolus him- 
 self ; for although he can, to every man, speak in their own 
 language, (else he could not tempt them all as he does, ) yet 
 he has a language proper to himself, and it is the language of 
 the infernal cave, or black pit. 
 
 Wherefore the town of Mansoul (poor hearts !) understood 
 liim not ; nor did they see how he crouched and cringed while 
 he stood before Emmanuel, their Prince. 
 
 Yea, they all this while took him to be one of that power 
 and force that by no means could be resisted. Wherefore, 
 while he was thus entreating that he might have yet his 
 residence there, and that Emmanuel would not take it from 
 him by force, the inhabitants boasted even of hia valoui', 
 Baying, "Who is able to make war with him?" 
 
 Well, when this pretended Icing had made an end of what
 
 398 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 he would say, Emmanuel, the golden Prince, stood up and 
 si)ake ; the contents of whose words follow. 
 
 "Thou deceiving one," said he, "I have, in my Father's 
 name, in mine own name, and on the behaK and for the good 
 of this wretched town of Mansoul, somewhat to say unto 
 thee. Thou pretendest a right, a lawful right, to the deplor- 
 able town of Mansoul, when it is most apparent to all my 
 Father's court, that the entrance which thou hast obtained 
 in at the gates of Mansoul was through thy lie and false- 
 hood ; thou beliedst my Father, thou beliedst his law, and so 
 deceivedst the people of Mansoul. Thou pretendest that the 
 people have accepted thee for their king, their captain, and 
 right liege lord; but that also was by the exercise of deceit 
 and guile. Now, if lying, wiliness, sinful craft, and all 
 manner of horrible hypocrisy, will go in my Father's court 
 (in which court thou must be tried) for equity and right, 
 then will I confess unto thee that thou hast made a lawful 
 conqiiest. But, alas ! what thief, what tyrant, what devil 
 is there that may not conquer after this sort ? But I can 
 make it appear, Diabolusj that thou, in all thy pretences 
 to a conquest of JNIansoul, hast nothing of truth to say. 
 Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou didst put the lie 
 upon my Father, and madest him (to Mansoul) the greatest 
 deluder in the world ? And what sayest thou to thy per- 
 verting knowingly the right purport and intent of the law ? 
 "Was it good also that thou madest a prey of the innocency 
 and simplicity of the now miserable town of Mansoul ? Yea, 
 thou didst overcome Mansoul by promising to them happi- 
 ness in their transgressions against my Father's law, when 
 thou knewest, and couldest not but know, hadst thou con- 
 sulted nothing but thine own experience, that that was the 
 way to undo them. Thou hast also thyself, thou master 
 of enmity, of spite defaced my Father's image in Mansoul, 
 and set up thy own in its place, to the great contempt of my 
 Father, the heightening of thy sin, and to the intolerable 
 damage of the jierishing town of ilansoul. 
 
 "Thou hast, moreover, (as if all these were but little
 
 TEE HOLY WAR. 399 
 
 things with thee,) not only deluded and undone this place, 
 but, by thy lies and fraudulent carriage, hast set them 
 against their own deliverance. How hast thou stirred them 
 up against my Father's captains, and made them to fight 
 against those that were sent of him to deliver them from 
 their bondage ! All these things, and very many more, thou 
 hast done against thy light, and in contempt of my Father 
 and of his law, yea, and with design to bring imder his dis- 
 pleasure for ever the miserable town of Mansoul. I am 
 therefore come to avenge the wrong that thou hast done to 
 my Father, and to deal with thee for the blasphemies where- 
 with thou hast made poor Mansoul blaspheme his name. 
 Yea, upon thy head, thou prince of the infernal cave, will I 
 requite it. 
 
 "As for myself, Diabolus, I am come against thee by 
 lawful power, and to take, by strength of hand, this town of 
 ]\Iansoul out of thy burning fingers ; for this town of Mansoul 
 is mine, Diabolus, and that by undoubted right, as aU shall 
 see that will diligently search the most ancient and most 
 authentic records, and I will plead my title to it, to the con- 
 fusion of thy face. 
 
 "First, For the town of Mansoul, my Father buUt and did 
 fashion it with his hand. The palace also that is in the 
 midst of that town, he buUt it fo> his own delight. This 
 town of Mansoiil, therefore, is my Father's, and that by the 
 best of titles, and he that gainsays the truth of this must lie 
 against his soul. 
 
 ' ' Secondly, thou master of the lie, this town of Man- 
 Boul is mine. 
 
 "1. For that I am my Father's heir, his first-born, and fliu 
 only delight of his heart. I am therefore Heb. i. 2. 
 come up against thee in mine own right, ■'^°'^'^ ^^- ^^• 
 even to recover mine own inheritance out of thine hand. 
 
 "2. But further, as I have a right and title to Mansoul 
 by being my Father's heir, so I have also 
 by my Father's donation. His it was, and " ° ^'^"' 
 
 he gave it me ; nor have I at any timo offended my Father,
 
 400 THE HOLY WAS. 
 
 that he should take it from me, and give it to thee. No» 
 
 have I been forced, by plaving the bank- 
 Isaiah 1. 1 ^ •/ j. .; o 
 
 rupt, to sell or set to sale to thee my beloved 
 town of MansoiU. Mansoul is my desire, my delight, and 
 the joy of my heart. But, 
 
 "3. Mansoul is mine by right of purchase. I have bought 
 it, Diabolus, I have bought it to myself. Now, since it 
 was my Father's, and mine, as I was his heir, and since also 
 I have made it mine by virtue of a great purchase, it fol- 
 loweth that, by aU lawful right, the town of Mansoul is mine, 
 and that thou art an usurper, a tyrant, and traitor, in thy 
 holding possession thereof. Now the cause of my purchasing 
 of it was this : MansoiU had trespassed against my Faijier ; 
 now my Father had said, that in the day that they broke his 
 law they should die. Now, it is more possible for heaven 
 and earth to pass away than for my Father 
 to break his word. Wherefore, when Man- 
 soid had sinned indeed by hearkening to thy lie, I put in and 
 became a surety to my Father, body for body, and soul for 
 soul, that I would make amends for Mansoul's transgressions, 
 
 o sweet Prince ^^^ ^7 Father did accept thereof. So, 
 Emmanuel 1 -^vhen the time appointed was come, I gave 
 body for body, soul for soul, life for life, blood for blood, 
 and so redeemed my beloved Mansoul. 
 
 "4. Nor did I do this by halves : my Father's law and 
 justice, that were both concerned in the threatening upon 
 transgression, are both now satisfied, and very well content 
 that Mansovd should be delivered. 
 
 "5. Nor am I come out this day against thee, but by 
 commandment of my Father ; it was he that said unto me, 
 'Go down and deliver Mansoul.' 
 
 "Wherefore be it known unto thee, thou fountain of 
 deceit, and be it ako known to the foolish town of Mansoid, 
 that I am not come against thee this day without my 
 Father. 
 
 "And now," said the golden-headed Prince, "I have a 
 word to the town of !Mansoul." But so soon as mention waa
 
 THE HOLY y/AK.. 
 
 401 
 
 k 
 
 made fiiat lie had a word to speak to the besotted town of 
 Mansoul, the gates were doixble-giiarded, and all men com- 
 manded not to give him audience. So he j)roceeded and said, 
 "0 unhappy to-mi of Mansoid, I cannot but be touched with 
 pity and compassion for thee. Thou hast accepted of Dia- 
 bolus for thy king, and art become a nurse and minister of 
 Diabolonians against thy sovereign Lord. Thy gates thou 
 hast opened to him, but hast shut them fast against me ; 
 thou hast given him a hearing, but hast stopped thine ears 
 at my cry. He brought to thee thy destruction, and thou 
 didst receive both him and it : I am come to thee brineintj 
 salvation, but thou regardest me not. Besides, thou hast, as 
 with sacrilegious hands, taken thyself, with all that was 
 mine in thee, and hast given all to my foe, and to the great- 
 est enemy my Father has. You have bowed and subjected 
 yourselves to him, you have vowed and sworn yourselves to 
 be his. Poor Mansoid ! what shall I do unto thee ? Shall 
 I save thee ? — shall I destroy thee ? What shall I do unto 
 thee ? Shall I fall upon thee, and grind thee to powder, or 
 make thee a monument of the richest grace ? What shall I 
 do unto thee ? Hearken, therefore, thou town of Iklansoid, 
 hearken to my word, and thou shalt live. I am merciful, 
 Mansovd, and thou shalt find me so : shut 
 me not out of thy gates. 
 
 "0 Mansoid, neither is my commission nor inclination at 
 all to do thee hurt. Why fliest thou so fast joim xii. 47. 
 from thy friend, and stickest so close to Luke ii. 50. 
 thine enemy? Indeed, I would have thee, because it be- 
 comes thee, to be sorry for thy sin ; but do not despaii* o( 
 life ; this great force is not to hurt thee, but to deliver thee 
 from thy bondage, and to reduce thee to thy obedience. 
 
 "My commission, indeed, is to make a war upon Diabolua 
 thy king, and u]3on all Diaboloiuans with him ; for he is the 
 strong man armed that keeps the house, and I will have him 
 out : his spoils I must divide, his armour I must take from 
 Mm, his hold I must cast him out of, and must make it a, 
 habitation for myself. And this, Mansoid, shall Diabo?i;i 
 
 Song of Sol. V. 2. 
 
 2 C
 
 403 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 know wlien he shall be made to follow me in chains, and 
 when Mansoul shall rejoice to see it so. 
 
 "I could, would I now put forth my might, cause that 
 forthwith he should leave you and depart ; but I have it in 
 my heart so to deal with him, as that the justice of the war 
 that I shall make upon him may be seen and acknowledged 
 by all. He hath taken Mansoul by fraud, and keeps it by 
 violence and deceit, and I wUl make him bare and naked in 
 the eyes of all observers. 
 
 " All my words are true. I am mighty to save, and will 
 deliver my Mansoul out of his hand. " 
 
 This speech was intended chiefly for Mansoul, but Mansoul 
 woidd not have the hearing of it. They shut up Ear-gate, 
 they barricaded it up, they kept it locked and bolted, they 
 set a guard thereat, and commanded that no Mansoulian 
 shoidd go out to him, nor that any from the camp should be 
 admitted into the town. All this they did, so horribly had 
 Diabolus enchanted them to do, and seek to" do for him, 
 agaiast their rightful Lord and Prince ; wherefore no man, 
 nor voice, nor sound of man that belonged to the glorioiis 
 host, was to come into the town. 
 
 So when Emmanuel saw that Mansoul was thiis involved 
 in sin, he calls his army together, (since now also his words 
 were despised,) and gave out a commandment throughout all 
 his host to be ready against the time appointed. Now, for- 
 asmuch as there was no way lawfully to take the town of 
 Mansoul but to get in by the gates, and at Ear -gate as the 
 chief, therefore he commanded his captains and commanders 
 to bring their rams, their slings, and their men, and place 
 them at Eye-gate and Ear-gate, in order to his taking the 
 town. 
 
 When Emmanuel had put all things in a readiness to give 
 Diabolus battle, he sent again to know of the town of Man- 
 soul, if in peaceable manner they would yield themselves, or 
 whether they were yet resolved to put him to try the utmost 
 extremity? They then, together with Diabolus their king, 
 called a council of war, and resolved upon certain propositio
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 403 
 
 that slioiild be oflfered to Emmanuel, if lie will accept thereof, 
 so they agreed ; and then the next was, who should be sent 
 on this errand. Now, there was in the town of Mansoul an 
 old man, a Diabolonian, and his name was Mr Loth-to-stoop, 
 a stiff man in his way, and a great doer for Diabolus : him, 
 therefore, they sent, and put into his mouth what he should 
 say. So he went and came to the camp to Emmanuel, and 
 when he was come, a time was appointed to give him audience. 
 So at the time he came, and, after a Diabolonian ceremony 
 or two, he thus began and said, " Great Sir, 
 that it may be known unto all men how 
 good-natured a prince my master is, he hath sent me to tell 
 your Lordship that he is very willing, rather 
 than go to war, to deliver up into your hands 
 one half of the town of Mansoid. I am therefore to know 
 if your Mightiness will accept of this projposition." 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, "The whole is mine by gift and 
 purchase, wherefore I will never lose one half." 
 
 Then said Mr Loth-to-stoop, " Sir, my master hath said 
 that he will be content that you shall be the nominal and 
 titular Lord of all, if he may possess but a Mark this! 
 
 r)Dx\, " Luke xiii, 25. 
 
 Then Emmanuel answered, " The whole is mine really, not 
 in name and word only ; wherefore I will be the sole lord 
 and possessor of all, or of none at all, of Mansoul." 
 
 Then Mr Loth-to-stoop said again, "Sir, behold the con- 
 descension of my master ! He says, that he Uark this ! 
 will be content, if he may but have assigned ^'^^^ ^- ^"^• 
 to l)im some place in Mansoid as a place to live privately in, 
 and you shall be Lord of all the rest." 
 
 Then said the golden Prince, "All that the Father giveth 
 me shall come to me ; and of all that he giveth me I will lose 
 notliing — no, not a hoof nor a hair. I will not, therefore, 
 grant him, no, not the least corner in Mansoxd to dwell in ; 
 I will have all to myself." 
 
 Then Loth-to-stoop said again, "But, Sir, sxippose that 
 my lord should resign the whole to^vn to you, only with this
 
 4.0 i THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 provisO; tliat lie sometimes, when tie comes into tliis country, 
 
 , may, for old acquaintance' sake, he enter- 
 Mark thisl . . , r . r J. J 
 
 tamed as a wayfarmg man for two days, or 
 
 ten days, or a month, or so. May not this small matter be 
 
 gi-anted?" 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, " No. He came as a wayfaring man 
 
 to David, nor did he stay long with him, 
 2 Sam. xii. 1-5. , ^ -1 , i t, ^ ■, . -^ ., ,. 
 
 and yet it had like to have cost David his 
 
 soul. I will not consent that he ever should have any har- 
 bour more there." 
 
 Then said Mr Loth-to-stoop, "Sir, you seem to be very 
 hard. Suppose my master should yield to aU that your 
 
 Sinfl and carnal Lordship hath said, provided that his friends 
 lusts. 2^mj kindred in Mansoul may have hberty to 
 
 trade in the town, and to enjoy their present dwellings. May 
 not that be granted. Sir ? " 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, ' ' No ; that is contrary to my Father's 
 
 will ; for all, and all manner of Diabolonians that now are, 
 
 „ . ,„ or that at any time shall be fomid in Man- 
 Eom. Ti. 13. •' 
 
 Col. iii. 5. soul, shall not only lose their lands and 
 Gal. V. 24. . "^ 
 
 liberties, but also their lives." 
 
 Then said Mr Loth-to-stoop again, "But, Sir, may not my 
 
 Mark this I master and great lord, by letters, by pas- 
 
 Johux. 8. sengers, by accidental opportunities, and 
 
 the like, maintain, if he shall deliver up all unto thee, some 
 
 kind of old friendshi^j with Mansoul ?" 
 
 Emmanuel answered, "No, by no means; forasmuch as 
 any such fellowship, friendship, intimacy, or acquaintance, 
 in what way, sort, or mode soever maintained, will tend 
 to the corrupting of Mansoul, the alienating of their affec- 
 tions from me, and the endangering of their peace with my 
 Father." 
 
 Mr Loth-to-stoop yet added farther, saying, " But, great 
 jVlarktliis! ^u', since my master hath many friends, 
 
 Rom. vi 12, 13. ^jj j those that are dear to him, in Mansoul, 
 may he not, if he shall depart from them, even of his bounty 
 and good nature, bestow upon them, as he sees fit, some
 
 THE HOLY WAU. 405 
 
 tokens of liis love and kindness tliat lie liad for them, to the 
 end that Mansoid, when he is gone, may look upon such 
 tokens of kindness once received from their old friend, and 
 remember him who was once their king, and the meiTy times 
 that they sometimes enjoyed one with another, while he and 
 they lived in peace together?" 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, "No; for if Mansoiil come to be 
 mine, I shall not admit of nor consent that there should be 
 the least scrap, shred, or dust of Diabolus left behind, as 
 tokens or gifts bestowed upon any in Mansoul, thereby to 
 call to remembrance the horrible communion that was betwixt 
 them and him. " 
 
 "Well, Sir," said LIr Loth-to-stooj), "I have one thing 
 more to propound, and then I am got to Mark this! 
 the end of my commission. Suppose that, ^ Kings i. 3, 6, 7. 
 when my master is gone from Mansoul, any that shall, yeb 
 live in the town shoiild have such business of high concerns 
 to do, that if they be neglected the party shall be undone; 
 and suppose, Sir, that nobody can help in that case so well 
 as my master and lord, may not now mj'- master be sent 
 for ujjon so urgent an occasion as this? Or if he may not be 
 admitted into the town, may not he and the person concerned 
 meet in some of the villages near Mansoul, and there lay 
 their heads together, and there consult of matters?" 
 
 This was the last of those insnaring propositions that Mr 
 
 Loth-to-stoop had to propound to Emmanuel on behalf of 
 
 his master Diabolus ; but Emmaniiel would 
 
 not grant it: for he said, " There can be no 
 
 case, or thing, or matter fall out in Mansoul, when thy 
 
 master shall be gone, that may not be salved by my Father; 
 
 besides, it will be a gi-eat disparagement to my Father's 
 
 wisdom and skill to admit any from Mau- 
 
 2 Kind's' 2 ' 
 soul to go out to Diabolus for advice, when ' " "" 
 
 they are bid before, in evcrytliing, by prayer and supj>lica- 
 
 tion to lot their reqiiests be made known to my Father. 
 
 Further, this, should it be granted, would be to grant that 
 
 a door should be set open for Diabolus, and the Diabolonians
 
 406 THE HOLY WAE, 
 
 in Maiisoul, to hatoli, and plot, and bring to pass treason- 
 able designs, to the grief of my Father and me, and to the 
 atter destruction of Mansoul." 
 
 When JNIr Loth-to-stoop had heard this answer, he took 
 his leave of Emmanuel, and departed, saying that he ■would 
 carry word to his master concerning this whole aifair. So 
 he departed, and came to Diabolus to Mansoid, and told him 
 the whole of the matter, and how Emmanuel would not 
 admit, no, not by any means, that he, when he was once 
 gone out, should for ever have anything more to do either 
 in, or with any that are of the town of Mansoul. When 
 Mansoul and Diabolus had heard this relation of things, they 
 with one consent concluded to use their best endeavour to 
 keep Emmanuel out of Mansoul, and sent old lU- Pause, of 
 whom yoii have heard before, to tell the Prince and his cap- 
 tains so. So the old gentleman came up to the top of Ear- 
 gate, and called to the camp for a hearing, who when they 
 gave audience, he said, "I have in commandment from my 
 high lord to bid you tell it to your Prince Emmanuel, that 
 Mansoid and their king are resolved to stand and fall toge- 
 ther J and that it is in vain for your Prince to think of ever 
 having Mansoid in his hand, unless he can take it by force." 
 So some went and told to Emmanuel what old Ill-Pause, a 
 Diabolonian in Mansoul, had said. Then said the Prince, 
 ' ' I must try the power of my sword, for J 
 will not (for all the rebellions and repulses 
 that Mansoul has made against me) raise my siege and depart, 
 but will assuredly take my Mansoul, and deliver it from the 
 hand of her enemy." And Avith that he gave out a com- 
 mandment that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, Cap- 
 tain Judgment, and Captain Execution shoidd forthwith 
 march up to Ear-gate with trumpets sounding, colours flj^ng, 
 and with shouting for the battle. Also he woidd that Cap- 
 tain Credence should join himself with them. Emmanuel, 
 moreover, gave order that Captain Good-Hope and Captain 
 Charity should draw themselves up before Eye-gate. He 
 bid also tliat the rest of his cajitains and their men should
 
 THE HOSrtr WAK, 407 
 
 place themselves for the best of their advantage against tho 
 enemy round about the town ; and all was done as he had 
 commanded. 
 
 Then he bid that the word should be given forth, and the 
 word was at that time, " Ejimanuel." Then was an alarm 
 sounded, and the battering-rams were played, and the slings 
 did whui stones into the town amaiu, and thus the battle 
 began. Now Diabolus himself did manage the townsmen iu 
 the war, and that at every gate ; wherefore their resistance 
 was the more forcible, hellish, and offensive to Emmanuel. 
 Thus was the good Prince engaged and entertained by Dia- 
 bolus and Mansoul for several days together; and a sight 
 worth seeing it was to behold how the captains of Shaddai 
 behaved themselves in this war. 
 
 And first for Captain Boanerges, (not to undervalue the 
 rest,) he made three most fierce assaults, one after another, 
 upon Ear-gate, to the shaking of the posts thereof. Captain 
 Conviction, he also made vip as fast with Boanerges as pos- 
 sibly he coidd, and both discerning that the gate began to 
 yield, they commanded that the rams should still be played 
 against it. Now, Captain Conviction, going up very near to 
 the gate, was with great force driven back, and received 
 three wovmds in the mouth. And those that rode refor- 
 
 mades, they went about to encourage the 
 
 , . Angels, 
 
 captains. 
 
 For the valour of the two captains, made mention of be- 
 fore, the Prince seat for them to his pavilion, and com- 
 manded that a while they shoidd rest themselves, and 
 that with somewhat they should be refreshed. Care also 
 was taken for Captain Conviction, that he should be 
 healed of his wounds. The Prince also gave to each 
 of them a chain of gold, and bid them yet be of good 
 courage. 
 
 Nor did Captain Good-Hope nor Captain Charity come 
 behind in this most desperate fight, for they so weU did 
 behave themselves at Eye-gate, that they had almost broken 
 it quite open. These also had a reward from their Prince,
 
 408 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 aa also had the rest of the captains, because they did valiantly 
 
 round about the town. 
 
 In this engagement several of the officers of Diabolus were 
 
 slain, and some of the townsmen wounded. For the officers, 
 
 there was one CaptainBoasting slain. This Boasting thought 
 
 that nobody could have shaken the posts of Ear-gate, nor 
 
 have shaken the heart of Diabolus. Next to him there was 
 
 one Captain Secure slain : this Secure used to say that the 
 
 blind and lame in Mansoiil were able to keep 
 2 Sam. V. 6, . i_ e ±i j . -r, 
 
 the gates oi the town against Emmanuel's 
 
 army. This Captain Secure did Captain Conviction cleave 
 
 down the head with a two-handed sword, when he received 
 
 himself three wounds in his mouth. 
 
 Besides these there was one Captain Bragman, a very 
 desperate fellow, and he was captain over a band of thosa 
 that threw firebrands, arrows, and death : he also received, 
 by the hand of Captain Good-hope ?it Eye-gate, a mortal 
 wound in the breast. 
 
 There was, moreover, one Mr Feeling ; but he was no cap- 
 tain, but a great stickler to encourage Mansoid to rebellion. 
 He received a wound in the eye by the hand of one of Boan- 
 erges' soldiers, and had by the captain himself been slain, 
 but that he made a sudden retreat. 
 
 But I never saw Willbewill so daunted in all my life ; he 
 was not able to do as he was wont, and some say that he also 
 received a woimd in the leg, and that some of the men in the 
 Prince's army have certainly seen him limp as he afterwards 
 walked on the wall. 
 
 I shall not give you a particular account of the names of 
 the soldiers that were slain in the town, for many were 
 maimed, and wounded, and slain; for when they saw that 
 the posts of Ear-gate did shake, and Eye-gate was well-nigh 
 broken quite open, and also that their captains were slain, 
 this took away the hearts of many of the Diabolonians; they 
 fell also by the force of the shot that were sent by the golden 
 elings into the midst of the town of Mansoid. 
 
 Of the townsmen, there was one Love-no-Good; he was a
 
 THE KOLY WAR. 409 
 
 townsman, bnt a Diabolonian; lie also received his mortal 
 wound in Mansoul, but be died not very soon. 
 
 Mr Ill-Pause also, who was tbe man tbat came along with 
 Diabolus when at first be attempted tbe taking of Mansoul, 
 be also received a grievous wound in tbe bead; some say 
 tbat bis brain-pan was cracked. Tbis I bave taken notice 
 of, that be was never after tbis able to do tbat mischief to 
 Mansoul as he bad done in times jiast. Also old Prejudice 
 and Mr Anything fled. 
 
 Now, when the battle was over, the Prince commanded 
 tbat yet once more tbe white flag should be set upon Mount 
 Gracious in. sight of tbe town of Mansoul, to shew that yet 
 Emmanuel bad grace for tbe wretched town of Mansoid. 
 
 When Diabolus saw tbe white flag bung oiit agaiu, and 
 linowing tbat it was not for him, but Mansoul, be cast in his 
 mind to play another j)rarLk, to wit, to see if Emmanuel would 
 raise bis siege and begone, upon promise of reformation. So 
 he comes down to the gate one evening, a good while after 
 tbe sun was gone down, and calls to speak with Emmanuel, 
 who presently came down to the gate, and Diabolus saitb 
 imto him : — 
 
 " Eorasmucb as thou makest it appear by thy white flag 
 that thou art wholly given to peace and quiet, I thought 
 meet to acquaiut thee that we are ready to accept thereof 
 upon terms which thou mayest admit. 
 
 " I know that thou are given to devotion, and that holi- 
 ness pleasetb thee ; yea, tbat thy great end in making a war 
 upon Mansoid is, tbat it may be a holy habitation. Well, 
 draw off thy forces from the town, and I wUl bend Mansoul 
 to thy bow. 
 
 *' First, I wiLL lay down all acts of hostility against tbeo, 
 and will be wOling to become thy dejiuty, and wOl, as I have 
 formerly been against thee, now serve thee in tbe town of 
 Mansoul. And more particularly, 
 
 " 1. I will persuade Mansoid to receive thee for their Lord; 
 and I know that they wUl do it tbe sooner when they sliall 
 understand that I am thy deputy.
 
 410 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 "2. I will shew them wherein they have erred, and that 
 transgression stands in the way to life. 
 
 "3. I wiU shew them the holy law imto which they must 
 conform, even that which they have broken, 
 
 "4. I will press upon them the necessity of a reformation 
 according to thy law. 
 
 ♦' 6. And, moreover, that none of these things may faU, I 
 myself, at my own proper cost and charge, will set up and 
 maintain a sufficient ministry, besides lecturers, in Mansoid. 
 
 " 6. Thou shalt receive, as a token of our subjection to 
 thee, year by year, what thou shalt think fit to lay and levj 
 upon us in token of our subjection to thee." 
 
 Then said Emmanuel to him, " full of deceit, how move- 
 able are thy ways ! How often hast thou changed and re- 
 changed, if so be thou mightest still keep possession of my 
 Mansoid, though, as has been plainly declared before, I am 
 the right heu* thereof ! Often has thou made thy proposals 
 already, nor is this last a whit better than they. And 
 failing to deceive when thou shewedst thy- 
 self in thy black, thou hast now trans- 
 formed thyself into an angel of light, and wouldest, to de- 
 ceive, be now as a minister of righteousness. 
 
 "But know thou, Diabolus, that nothing must be re- 
 garded that thou canst propound, for nothing is done by 
 thee but to deceive. Thou neither hast conscience to God, 
 nor love to the town of Mansoid ; whence, then, should these 
 thy sayings arise but from sinfid craft and deceit ? He that 
 can of list and will j)ropoimd what he pleases, and that 
 wherewith he may destroy them that believe him, is to be 
 abandoned, with all that he shall say. But if righteousness 
 be such a beauty-spot in thine eyes now, how is it that 
 Mickeduess was so closely stuck to by thee before? But 
 this is by the by. 
 
 ' ' Thou talkest now of a reformation in MansoiU, and that 
 thoTi thyself, if I -wUl please, wdt be at the head of that 
 reformation; all the whde knowing that the gi-eatest pro- 
 ficiency that man can make in the law, and the righteous-
 
 THE HOLY "WAE. 411 
 
 ness thereof, will amount to no more, for the taking away of 
 the curse from Mansoiil, than just nothing at aU; for a law 
 being broken by Mansoul, that had before, upon a supposi- 
 tion of the breach thereof, a curse pronounced against him 
 for it of God, can never, by his obeying of the law, deliver 
 himself therefrom ; (to say nothing of what a reformation is 
 like to be set up in Mansoul when the devil is become cor- 
 rector of vice. ) Thou knowest that all that thou hast now 
 said in this matter is nothing but guile and deceit ; and is, 
 as it was the first, so is it the last card that thou hast to 
 play. Many there be that do soon discern thee when thou 
 shewest them thy cloven foot; but in thy white, thy light, 
 and in thy transformation, thou art seen but of a few. But 
 thou shalt not do thus with my Mansoul, Diabolus; for I 
 do still love my Mansoid. 
 
 "Besides, I am not come to put Mansotd upon works, to 
 live thereby; should I do so, I shoiild be like unto thee: 
 but I am come that by me, and by what I have and shall do 
 for Mansoul, they may to my Father be reconciled, though 
 by their sin they have provoked him to anger, and though 
 by the law they cannot obtain mercy. 
 
 "Thou talkest of subjecting of this town to good, when 
 none desireth it at thy hands. I am sent by my Father to 
 possess it myself, and to guide it by the skilfulness of my 
 hands into such a conformity to him as shall be pleasing in 
 his sight. I will therefore possess it myself; I will dispossess 
 and cast thee out ; I will set up mine own standard in the midst 
 of them ; I wiU also govei-n them by new laws, new officers, 
 new motives, and new ways ; yea, I will pull down this town, 
 and build it again ; and it shall be as though it had not been, 
 and it shall then be the glory of the whole universe." 
 
 When Diabolus heard this, and perceived that he was dis- 
 covered in all his deceits, he was confounded, and utterly 
 put to a non-^lus; but having in himseK the fountain of 
 iniquity, rage, and malice |^against both Shaddai and hia 
 Son, and the beloved town of ISIansoul, what doth he biit 
 strengthen himself what he could to give fresh battle to the
 
 412 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 noble Prince Emmanuel ? So, then, now we must liave 
 another fight before the town of Mansoiil is taken. Come 
 up, then, to the mountains, you that love to see military 
 actions, and behold by both sides how the fatal blow is 
 given, while one seeks to hold, and the other seeks to make 
 liimself master of the famous town of Mansoiil. 
 
 Diabolus, therefore, having withdravra himself from the 
 wall to his force that was in the heart of the town of Man- 
 soul, Emmanuel also returned to the camp: and both of 
 them, after their divers ways, put themselves into a posture 
 fit to give battle one to another. 
 
 Diabolus, as filled with despair of retaining in his hands 
 the famous town of INIansoul, resolved to do what mischief 
 he could (if, indeed, he could do any) to the army of the 
 Prince and to the famous town of Mansoul ; for, alas ! 
 it was not the happiness of the silly town of Mansoul 
 that was designed by Diabolus, but the utter ruin and over- 
 throw thereof, as now is enough in view. Wherefore he 
 commands his officers that they should then, when they see 
 that they could hold the tovm. no longer, do it what harm 
 
 and mischief they could, rending and tear- 
 Mark is. 26, 27. . ^ J TIJ .<-I7 » 
 mg men, women, and children. "For," 
 
 said he, " we had better quite demolish the place, and leave 
 
 it like a ruinous heaj"), than so leave it that it may be an 
 
 habitation for Emmanuel." 
 
 Emmanuel again, knowing that the next battle would 
 issue in his being made master of the place, gave out a royal 
 commandment to all his officers, high captains, and men of 
 war, to be sure to shew themselves men of war against Dia- 
 bolus and all Diabolonians ; but favourable, merciful, and meek 
 to the old inhabitants of Mansoul. "Bend, therefore," said 
 the noble Prince, "the hottest front of the battle against 
 Diabolus and his men. " 
 
 So the day being come, the command was given, and the 
 Prince's men did bravely stand to their ai*ms, and did, as 
 before, bend their main force against Ear-gate and Eye-gate, 
 The word was then, "Mansoul is won;" so they made their
 
 THE HOLT WAE. 413 
 
 assault upon the town. Diabolus also, as fast as lie could, 
 ■with the main of his power, made resistance from within ; 
 and his high lords and chief captains for a time fought 
 very cruelly against the Prince's army. 
 
 But after three or four notable charges by the Prince and 
 his noble captains, Ear-gate was broken open, and the bars 
 and bolts wherewith it was tised to be fast shut up against 
 the Piince, were broken into a thousand pieces. Then did 
 the Prince's trumpets soxmd, the captains shout, the town 
 shake, and Diabolus retreat to his hold. "Well, when the 
 Prince's forces had broken oj^en the gate, himself came up 
 and did set his throne in it ; also he set his standard thereby, 
 upon a mount that before by his men was cast up to place 
 the mighty slings thereon. The mount was called Mount 
 Hear-weU. There, therefore, the Prince abode, to wit, hard 
 by the going in at the gate. He commanded also that the 
 golden slings should yet be played upon the town, especially 
 against the castle, because for shelter thither wag Diabolus 
 retreated. Now, from Ear-gate the street was straight even 
 to the house of Mr Kecorder that so was before Diabolus 
 took the town; and hard by his house stood the castle, 
 which Diabolus for a long time had made his irksome den. 
 The captains, therefore, did quickly clear that street by the 
 use of their slings, so that way was made up to the heart 
 of the town. Then did the Prince command that Captain 
 Boanerges, Captain Conviction, and Captain Judgment, 
 sho\ild forthwith march up the town to 
 the old gentleman's gate. Then did the 
 captains in most Avarlike manner enter into the town of 
 Mansoul, and, marching in with flying colours, they came 
 up to the Recorder's house, and that was almost as strong as 
 was the castle. Battering-rams they took also with them, to 
 plant against the castle gates. When they were come to 
 the house of Mr Conscience, they knocked, and demanded 
 entrance. Now, the old gentleman, not knowing as yet 
 fully their design, kept his gates shut aU the time of this 
 fiijht. Wherefore Boanerges demanded entrance at his
 
 414 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 gates; and no man making answer, he gave it one stroke 
 with tl\e head of a ram, and this made the old gentleman 
 shake, and his house to tremble and totter. Then came jMr 
 Recorder down to the gates, and, as he could, with quiverinof 
 lips, he asked who was there? Boanerges answered, "We 
 are the captains and commanders of the great Shaddai and 
 of the blessed Emmanuel his Son, and we demand possession 
 of your house for the use of our noble Prince." And with 
 that the battering-ram gave the gate another shake. This 
 made the old gentleman tremble the more, yet durst he 
 not but open the gate : then the King's forces marched in, 
 namely, the three brave captains mentioned before. Now, 
 the Recorder's house was a place of much convenience for 
 Emmanuel, not only because it was near to the castle and 
 strong, but also because it was large, and fronted the castle, 
 the den where now Diabolus was, for he was now afraid to 
 come out of his hold. As for Mr Recorder, the captains 
 carried it very resers'edly to him; as yet he knew nothing 
 of the great designs of Emmanuel, so that he did not know 
 what judgment to make, nor what would be the end of such 
 thundering beginniags. It was also presently noised in the 
 town how the Recorder's house was possessed, his rooms 
 taken up, and his palace made the seat of the war; and no 
 sooner was it noised abroad, but they took the alarm as 
 warmly, and gave it out to others of his friends; and you 
 know, as a snow-ball loses nothing by roUing, so in little 
 time the whole town was possessed that they must expect 
 nothing from the Prince but destruction ; and the ground of 
 the business was this, the Recorder was afraid, the Recorder 
 trembled, and the captains carried it strangely to the Re- 
 corder. So many came to see; but when they with their 
 own eyes did behold the captains in the palace, and their 
 battering-rams ever playing at the castle gates to beat them 
 down, they were riveted in their fears, and it made them 
 
 The office of Con- all in amaze. And, as I said, the man of 
 Boience wheu lie is , 
 awakened. the house would increase aU this ; for who 
 
 ever cani» to him, or .discoursed with him, nothing would
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 415 
 
 he talk of, tell them, or hear, but that death and destruc- 
 tion now attended Mansoul. 
 
 "For,"quoth the old gentleman, "you are all of you sensible 
 that we all have been traitors to that once despised but now 
 famously victorious and glorious Prince Emmanuel; for henow, 
 as you see, doth not only lie in close siege about us, but hath 
 forced his entrance in at our gates. Moreover, Diabolus flees 
 before him ; and he hath, as you behold, made of my house a 
 garrison against the castle, where he is. I, for my part, have 
 transgressed greatly, and he that is clean, it is well for him. 
 But I say I have transgressed greatly in keepmg silence 
 when I shotdd have spoken, and in perverting justice when 
 I should have executed the same. True, I have suffered 
 something at the hand of Diabolus for taking part with the 
 laws of King Shaddai ; but that, alas ! what will that do ? 
 will that make compensation for the rebellions and treasons 
 that I have done, and have suffered without gainsaying to be 
 committed in the town of Mansoul ! Oh, I tremble to 
 think what will be the end of this so dreadful and so ireful 
 a beginning ! " 
 
 Now, while these brave captains were thus busy in the 
 house of the old Recorder, Captain Execution was as busy, 
 in other parts of the town in securing the back streets and 
 the walls. He also hunted the Lord Willbewill sorely ; he 
 suffered him not to rest in any corner ; he pursued him so 
 hard, that he drove his men from him, and made him glad 
 to thrust his head into a hole. Also this mighty warrior did 
 cut three of the Lord Willbewill's officers down to the 
 ground : one was old Mr Prejudice, he that had his crown 
 cracked in the mutiny. This man was made by Lord Will- 
 bewill keeper of Ear-gate, and fell by the hand of Captain 
 Execution, There was also one Mr Backward-to-all-but- 
 naught, and he also was one of Lord WUlbewiU's officers, 
 and was the captain of the two guns that once were mounted 
 on the top of Ear-gate ; he also was cut down to the groimd 
 by the hands of Cai)tain Execution. Besides these two 
 there was another, a third, and his name was Captain
 
 41G THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Treacherous ; a vile man this was, but one tliat WillbewiU 
 did put a great deal of confidence in : but him also did this 
 Captain Execution cut down to the ground with the rest. 
 
 He also made a very great slaughter among my Lord 
 WiUbewiU's soldiers, killing many that were stout and 
 sturdy, and wounding many that for Diabolus were nimble 
 and active. But aU these were Diabolonians ; there was 
 not a man, a native of Mansoul, hurt. 
 
 Other feats of war were also likewise performed by other 
 of the captains, as at Eye-gate, where Captain Good-Hope 
 and Captain Charity had a charge, was great execution done ; 
 for the Captain Good-Hope with his own hands slew one Cap- 
 tain .Blindfold, the keeper of that gate. This Blindfold was 
 captain of a thousand men, and they were they that fought 
 with mauls : he also pursued his men, slew many, and 
 wounded more, and made the rest hide their heads in 
 corners. 
 
 There was also at that gate !Mr Ill-Pause, of whom you 
 have heard before. He was an old man, and had a beard 
 that reached down to his girdle : the same was he that was 
 orator to Diabolus : he did much mischief in the town of 
 Mansoul, and fell by the hand of Captain Good-Hope. 
 
 What shall I say ? The Diabolonians in these days lay 
 dead in every comer, though too many yet were alive in 
 Mansoul. 
 
 Now, the old Recorder and my Lord Understanding, with 
 some others of the chief of the town, to wit, such as knew 
 they must stand and fall with the famous town of Mansoul, 
 came together upon a day, and, after consultation had, did 
 jointly agree to draw up a petition, and to send it to Em- 
 manuel, now while he sat in the gate of Mansoul. So they 
 drew up then- petition to Emmanuel, the contents whereof 
 were these : — That they, the old inhabitants of the now 
 deplorable town of Mansoul, confessed their sin, and were 
 sorry that they had offended his princely Majesty, and 
 prayed that he would spare their lives. 
 
 Unto this petition he gave no answer at all, and that did 
 
 I
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 417 
 
 trouble them yet so much the more. Now, all this -whila 
 the captains that were in the Recorder's house were playing 
 with the battering-rams at the gates of the castle, to beat 
 them down. So, after some time, labour, and travail, the 
 gate of the castle that was called Impregnable was beaten 
 open, and broken into several splinters, and so a way made 
 to go up to the hold in which Diabolus had hid himseK. 
 Then were tidings sent down to Ear-gate, for Emmanuel still 
 abode there, to let him know that a way was made in at the 
 gates of the Castle of MansouL But, oh ! how the trumpets 
 at the tidings sounded throughout the Prince's camp, for 
 that now the war was so near an end, and Manaoul itself of 
 being set free. 
 
 Then the Prince arose from the place where he was, and 
 took with him such of hia men of war aa were fittest for 
 that expedition, and marched up the street of Mansoul to 
 the old Recorder's house. 
 
 Now, the Prince himseK was clad all in armour of gold, 
 and 80 he marched up the town with his standard borne be- 
 fore him ; but he kept his countenance much reserved all the 
 way as he went, so that the people could not tell how to 
 gather to themselves love or hatred by hia looks. Now, as 
 he marched up the street, the townsfolk came out at every 
 door to see, and could not but be taken with his person and 
 the glory thereof, but wondered at the reservedness of his 
 countenance ; for as yet he spake more to them by his 
 actions and works than he did by words or smiles. But also 
 poor Mansoul, (as in such cases aU are apt to do,) they in- 
 terpr^ed the carriage of Emmanuel to them as did Joseph's 
 brethren his to them, even all the quite contrary way. 
 "For," thought they, "if Emmanuel loved tis, he would 
 shew it to us by word or carriage ; but none of these he 
 doth, therefore Emmanuel hates us. Now, if Emmanuel 
 hates us, then Mansoul shall be slain, then Mansoul shall be- 
 come a dunghill." They knew that they had transgress'vi 
 his Father's law, and that against him they had been in with 
 Diabolus, hia enemy. They also knew that the Prince Era-i 
 
 2d
 
 418 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 raanuel knew all this ; for they were convinced that he was 
 as an angel of God, to know all things that are done in the 
 earth ; and this made them think that their condition was 
 miserable, and that the good Prince would make them deso- 
 late. 
 
 "And," thought they, "what time so fit to do this in as 
 now, when he has the bridle of ^Mansoul ia his hand ? " And 
 this I took special notice of, that the inhabitants, notwith- 
 standing all this, could not — no, they could not, when they 
 see him march through the town, but cringe, bow, bend, and 
 were ready to lick the dust of his feet. They also wished a 
 thousand times over that he would become their Prince and 
 Captain, and would become their protection. They would 
 also one to another talk of the comeliness of his person, and 
 how much for glory and valour he outstripped the great ones 
 of the world. But, poor hearts, as to themselves, their 
 thoughts would change, and go upon all manner of extremes. 
 Yea, through the working of them backward and forward, 
 Mansoul became as a ball tossed, and as a rolling thing be- 
 fore the whirlwind. 
 
 Now, when he was come to the castle gates, he com- 
 manded Diabolus to appear, and to surx-ender himself into 
 his hands. But, oh, how loth was the beast to appear ! 
 how he stuck at it ! how he shrunk ! how he cringed ! yet 
 out he came to the Prince. Then Emmanuel commanded, 
 and they took Diabolus and bound him fast in chains, the 
 better to reserve him to the judgment that he had appointed 
 for him. But Diabolus stood up to entreat for himself that 
 Emmanuel would not send him into the deep, but suffer him 
 to depart out of Mansoul in peace. 
 
 When Emmanuel had taken him and bound him in chains, 
 he led him iato the market-place, and there, before Mansoul, 
 stripped him of his armour in which he boasted so much be- 
 fore. This now was one of the acts of triumph of Emmanuel 
 over his enemy; and aU the while that the giant was strip, 
 ping, the trumpets of the golden Prince did sound amain j 
 the captains also shouted, and the soldiers did sing for joy.
 
 I'EE HOLY WAR. 419 
 
 Theu was Mansoul called upon to behold the begiiirung of 
 Emmaniiers triumpli over Mm in whom they so much had 
 trusted, and of whom they so much had boasted in the days 
 when he flattered them. 
 
 Thus having made Diabolus naked in the eyes of Mansoul, 
 and before the commanders of the Prhice, in the next place, 
 he commands that Diabolus should be boimd 
 with chains to his chariot wheels. Then ^ 
 
 leaving off some of his forces, to wit, Captain Boanerges and 
 Captain Conviction, as a guard for the castle gates, that re- 
 sistance might be made on his behalf, (if any that heretofore 
 followed Diabolus should make an attempt to possess it,) he 
 did ride in triumph over him qydte through the town of Man- 
 soul, and so out at and before the gate called Eye-gate, to 
 the plain where his camp did lie. 
 
 But you cannot think, unless you had been there, as I 
 was, what a shout there was in Emmanuel's camp when they 
 saw the tyrant bound by the hand of their noble Prince, and 
 tied to his chariot wheels ! 
 
 And they said, "He hath led captivity captive, he hath 
 spoiled priacipalities and powers. Diabolus is subjected to 
 the power of his sword, and made the object of all derision." 
 
 Those also that rode reformades, and that came down to 
 see the battle, they shouted with that 
 greatness of voice, and sung with such 
 melodious notes, that they caused them that dwell in the 
 highest orbs to open their windows, put out their heads, 
 and look do^\Ti to see the cause of that 
 glory. Luke XV. 7. 10. 
 
 The townsmen, also, so many of them as saw this sight, 
 were, as it were, while they looked, betwixt the earth and 
 the heavens. True, they could not tell 
 what would be the issue of things as to soui taken with Em- 
 them; but all things were done in such 
 excellent methods, and I cannot tell how, but things in the 
 management of them seemed to cast a srnUo towai-ds the 
 town, so that their eyes, their heads, their hearts, and their
 
 420 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 minds, and all that they had, were taken and held while 
 they observed Emmanuel's order. 
 
 So when the brave Prince had finished this part of his tri- 
 umph over Diabolus his foe, he turned him up in the midst 
 of hia contempt and shame, having given him a charge no 
 more to be a possessor of Mansoul. Then went he from 
 Emmanuel, and out of the midst of his camp, to inherit the 
 
 parched places in a salt land, seeking rest. 
 Matt. xU. 43. , , ^ ,. 6 » 
 
 but nndmg none. 
 
 Now, Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction were, 
 both of them, men of very great majesty; their faces were 
 like the faces of lions, and their words like the roaring of 
 the sea ; and they still quartered in jNIr Conscience's house, 
 of whom mention was made before. T\Tien, therefore, the 
 high and mighty Prince had thus far finished his triumph 
 over Diabolus, the townsmen had more leisure to view and 
 to behold the actions of these noble captains. But the cap- 
 tains carried it with that terror and dread in all that they 
 did, (and you may be sure that they had private instruc- 
 tions so to do,) that they kept the town under continual 
 heart-aching, and caused (in their apprehension) the well- 
 being of Mansoul for the future to hang in doubt before 
 them, Bo that for some considerable time they neither knew 
 what rest, or ease, or peace, or hope meant. 
 
 Nor did the Prince himself as yet abide in the town of 
 Mansoul, but in his royal pavilion in the camp, and in the 
 midflt of his Father's forces. So, at a time convenient, he 
 sent special orders to Captain Boanerges to summon Man- 
 soul, the whole of the townsmen, into the castle-yard, and 
 then and there, before their faces, to take my Lord Under- 
 standing, Mr Conscience, and that notable one, the Lord 
 Willbewell, and put them all three in ward, and that they 
 should set a strong guard upon them there, xintU his plea- 
 sure concerning them was further known : the which orders, 
 when tte captains had put them in execution, made no small 
 addition to the fears of the town of Mansoul j for now, to 
 their thinking, were their former fears of the ruin of Man-
 
 THE HOLY WAS. 421 
 
 soul confirmed. Now, wliat death they should die, and 
 how long they should be in dying, was that which most 
 perplexed their heads and hearts ; yea, they were afraid that 
 Emmanuel would command them all into the deep, the place 
 that the prince Diabolus was afraid of, for they knew that 
 they had deserved it. Also to die by the sword in the face 
 of the town, and in the open way of disgrace, from the hand 
 of so good and so holy a prince, that, too, troubled them 
 sore. The town was also greatly troubled for the men that 
 were committed to ward, for that they were their stay and 
 their guide, and for that they believed that, if those men 
 were cut off, their execution would be but the beginning of 
 the ruin of the town of Mansoul. Wherefore, what do they, 
 but, together with the men in prison, draw up a petition to 
 the Prince, and sent it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr 
 Would-Uve. So he went, and came to the Prince's quarters, 
 and presented the petition, the sum of which was this : — 
 
 ' ' Great and wonderful Potentate, victor over Diabolus, 
 and conqueror of the town of Mansoul, we, the miserable 
 inhabitants of that most woeful corporation, do humbly beg 
 that we may find favour in thy sight, and remember not 
 against us former transgressions, nor yet the sins of the chief 
 of oiu- town ; but spare ua according to the greatness of thy 
 mercy, and let ub not die, but live in thy sight. So shall 
 we be willing to be thy servants, and, if thou ehalt thiuk 
 fit, to gather our meat luider thy table. Amen." 
 
 So the petitioner went, as was said, with his petition to 
 the Prince ; and the Prince took it at his hand, but sent him 
 away with silence. This still afflicted the town of Mansoiil; 
 but yet, considering that now they must either petition or 
 die, for now they could not do anything else, therefore they 
 consulted again, and sent another petition; and this petition 
 was much after the form and method of the former. 
 
 But when the petition waa drawn up. By whom should 
 they send it? was the next question; for they would not 
 Bend this by him by whom they sent the first, for they 
 thought that the Prince had taken some offence at the man-
 
 422 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 ner of liis deportment before liim : so tliey attempted to 
 make Captain Conviction their messenger witli it ; but lio 
 said tbat lie neither durst nor woidd petition Emmanuel for 
 traitors, nor be to the Prince an advocate for rebels. ' ' Yet 
 ■^vithal," said he, " our Prince is good, and you may adven- 
 ture to send it by the hand of one of your town, provided 
 he went with a rope about his head, and pleaded nothing 
 but mercy." 
 
 Well, they made, through fear, their delays as long as 
 they could, and longer than delays were good; but fear- 
 ing at last the dangerousness of them, they thought, but 
 with many a fainting in their minds, to send their petition 
 by Mr Desires-awake ; so they sent for Mr Desires-awake. 
 Now he dwelt in a very mean cottage in Mansoul, and he 
 came at his neighboiu-s' request. So they told him what 
 they had done, and what they would do, concerning peti- 
 tioning, and that they did desire of him that he woidd go 
 therewith to the Prince. 
 
 Then said Mr Desires-awake, "Why should not I do the 
 best I can to save so famous a town as Mansoul from deserved 
 destruction?" They therefore delivered the petition to him, 
 and told him how he must address himself to the Prince, 
 and wished him ten thousand good speeds. So he comes to 
 the Prince's pavilion, as the first, and asked to speak with 
 his Majesty. So word was carried to Emmanuel, and the 
 Prince came out to the man. When Mr Desires-awake saw 
 the Prince, he fell flat with his face to the ground, and cried 
 out, " Oh that Mansoul might live before thee!" and with 
 that he presented the petition ; the which when the Prince 
 had read, he turned away for a while and wept ; but refrain- 
 ing himself, he turned again to the man, who all this while 
 lay crying at his feet, as at the fia'st, and said to him, " Go 
 thy way to thy place, and I will consider of thy requests." 
 
 Now, you may think that they of Mansoul that had sent 
 him, what with gtiilt, and what with fear lest their petition 
 should be rejected, covld not but look with many a long 
 look, and that, too, with strange workings of heart, to see
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 423 
 
 what would become of tlieir petition. At last ttey saw their 
 messenger coming back. So, when he was come, they asked 
 him how he fared, what Emmanuel said, and what was be- 
 come of the petition. But he told them that he would be 
 silent till he came to the prison to my Lord Mayor, my 
 Lord Willbewell, and Mr Recorder. So he went forwards 
 towards the prison-house, where the men of Mansoul lay 
 boimd. But, oh, what a multitude flocked after, to hear 
 what the messenger said ! So, when he was come, and had 
 shewn himself at the grate of the prison, my Lord Mayor 
 himself looked as white as a clout; the Eecorder also did 
 quake. But they asked and said, "Come, good sir, what 
 did the great Prince say to you?" Then said Mr Desires- 
 awake, " When I came to my Lord's pavilion, I called, and 
 he came forth. So I fell prostrate at his feet, and delivered 
 to him my petition; for the greatness of his person, and the 
 glory of his countenance, would not suffer me to stand upon 
 my legs. Now, as he received the petition, I cried, < Oh 
 that Mansoul might live before thee ! ' So, when for a while 
 he had looked thereon, he turned him about, and said to his 
 servant, ' Go thy way to thy place again, and I will consider 
 of thy requests.'" The messenger added, moreover, and 
 said, " The Prince to whom you sent me is such a one for 
 beauty and glory, that whoso sees him must both love aiul 
 fear him. I, for my part, can do no less ; but I know not 
 what wiU be the end of these things." 
 
 At this answer, they were all at a stand, both they in 
 prison, and they that followed the messenger thither to hear 
 the news ; nor knew they what, or what manner of interpre- 
 tation to put upon what the Prince had said. Now, when 
 the prison was cleared of the throng, the prisoners among 
 themselves began to comment upon Emmamiel's words. My 
 Lord Mayor said, that the answer did not look with a rugged 
 face; but Willbewill said that it betokened evil; and the 
 Eecorder, that it was a messenger of death. Now, they that 
 were left, and that stood behind, and so could not so well 
 hear what the prisoners said, some of them catched hold of
 
 424 THK HOLY WAR. 
 
 one piece of a sentence, and some on a bit of another; some 
 took hold of wliat tlie messenger said, and some of tte 
 prisoners' judgment thereon; so none had the right under- 
 standing of things. But you cannot imagine what work 
 these people made, and what a confusion there was in Man- 
 soul now. 
 
 For presently they that had heard what was said flew 
 about the town, one crying one thing, and another the quite 
 contrary; and both were sure enough they told true; for 
 they did hear, they said, with their ears what was said, and 
 therefore could not be deceived. One would eay, ' ' We must 
 all be killed;" another would say, " We must all be saved;" 
 and a third would say that the Prince would not be con- 
 cerned with Mansoul ; and a fourth, that the prisoners must 
 be suddenly put to death. And, as I said, every one stood 
 to it that he told his tale the rightest, and that all others 
 but he were out. Wherefore Mansoul had now molestation 
 upon molestation, nor could any man know on what to rest 
 the sole of his foot; for one would go by now, and as he 
 went, if he heard his neighbour tell his tale, to be sure he 
 would tell the quite contrary, and both would stand in it 
 that he told the truth. Nay, some of them had got this 
 story by the end, that the Prince did intend to put Mansoul 
 to the sword. And now it began to be dark, wherefore 
 poor Mansoul was in sad perplexity aU that night until the 
 morning. 
 
 But, so far as I could gather by the best information that 
 
 I could get, all this hubbub came through the words that the 
 
 Piecorder said when he told them that, in 
 What win guilt do. , . . T . . 1 -r» • , 
 
 nis judgment, the Prmces answer was a 
 
 messenger of death. It was this that fu-ed the town, and 
 
 that began the fright in Mansoul; for Mansoul in former 
 
 times did use to coimt that Mr Recorder was a seer, and that 
 
 his sentence was equal to the best of orators ; and thus was 
 
 Mansoid a terror to itself. 
 
 And now did they begin to feel what were the effects of 
 
 etubbom rebellion, and imlawful resistance against their
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 425 
 
 Prince. I say, they now began to feel the effects thereof by 
 guilt and fear, that now had swallowed them up ; and who 
 more involved in the one but they that were most in the 
 other, to wit, the chief of the town of Mansoul ? 
 
 To be brief : when the fame of the fright was out of the 
 town, and the prisoners had a little recovered themselves, 
 they take to themselves some heart, and think to petition 
 the Prince for life again. So they did di'aw up a third peti- 
 tion, the contents whereof were these : — 
 
 " Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of aU worlds, and 
 Master of mercy, we, thy poor, wretched, miserable, dying 
 to-vvTi of Mansoul, do confess unto thy great and glorious 
 Majesty that we have sioned against thy Father and thee, 
 and are no more worthy to be called thy Mansoul, but rathel 
 to be cast into the pit. If thou wilt slay us, we have de- 
 served it. If thou wilt condemn us to the deep, we cannot 
 but say thou art righteous. We cannot complain whatever 
 thou dost, or however thou carriest it towards us. But, oh ! 
 let mercy reign, and let it be extended to us ! Oh ! let 
 mercy take hold upon us, and free us from our transgressions, 
 and we will siag of thy mercy and of thy judgment. Axuen." 
 
 This petition, when drawn up, was designed to be sent to 
 the Prince as the first ; but who should carry player attended 
 it ?— that was the question. Some said, ' ' Let ""^'^ difficulty . 
 him do it that went with the first; " but others thought not 
 good to do that, and that because he sped no better. Now, 
 there was an old man in the town, and his name was Mr 
 Good-Deed ; a man that bare only the name, but had nothiag 
 of the nature of the thing. Now, some were for sending 
 him; but the Recorder was by no means for that. " For," 
 said he, "we now stand in need of, and are pleading for 
 mercy: wherefore, to send our petition by a man of this 
 name, wiU seem to cross the petition itself. Should we make 
 :Mr Good-Deed our messenger, when our petition cries for 
 mercy ? 
 
 "Besides," quoth the old gentleman, " should the Prince 
 now, as he receives the petition, ask him, and say, • What
 
 426 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 ia tliy name ?' as nobody knows but he wnll; and be sbonld 
 say, 'Old Good-Deed,' wbat, think you, would Emmanuel 
 say but this ? ' Ay ! is old Good-Deed yet alive in Mansoul ? 
 then let old Good-Deed save you from your distresses.' And 
 if he says so, I am sure we are lost ; nor can a thousand of 
 old Good-Deeds save Mansoul. " 
 
 After the Eecorder had given in his reasons why old Good- 
 Deed should not go with this petition to Emmanuel, the rest 
 of the prisoners and chief of Mansoul opposed it also, and so 
 old Good-Deed was laid aside, and they agreed to send Mr 
 Desires-awake again. So they sent for him, and desired him 
 that he would a second time go with their petition to the 
 Prince, and he readily told them he would. But they bid 
 him that in anywise he should take heed that in no word or 
 can-iage he gave offence to the Prince ; ' ' for by doing so, for 
 aught we can tell, you may bring Mansoul into utter de- 
 struction," said they. 
 
 Now Mr Desires-awake, when he saw that he must go on 
 +,hia errand, besought that they would grant that Mr Wct- 
 Ej^es might go with him. Now this Mr Wet-Eyes was a 
 near neighbour of Mr Desires, a poor man, a man of a broken 
 spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition ; so they 
 granted that he should go with him. T\Tierefore, they ad- 
 dress themselves to their business : Mr Desires put a rope 
 upon his head, and Mr Wet-Eyes went with his hands 
 wringing together. Thus they went to the Prince's pavUion. 
 
 Now, when they went to petition this third time, they 
 were not without thoughts that, by often coming, they 
 might be a burden to the Prince. Wherefore, when they 
 were come to the door of his pavilion, they first made their 
 apology for themselves, and for their coming to trouble Em- 
 manuel so often ; and they said, that they came not hither 
 to-day for that they delighted in being troublesome, or for 
 that they delighted to hear themselves talk, but for that 
 necessity caused them to come to hia Majesty. They could, 
 they said, have no rest day nor night because of their trans- 
 gressions againt Shaddai and against Emmanuel his Son,
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 427 
 
 They also thouglit that some misbehaviour of Mr Desires- 
 awake the last time might give distaste to his Higlinesa, and 
 so cause that he returned from so merciful a Prince empty, 
 and without countenance. So, when they had made this 
 apology, Air Desires-awake cast himself prostrate upon the 
 ground, as at the first, at the feet of the mighty Prince, say- 
 ing, "Oh that Mansoul might live before thee!" and so ho 
 delivered his petition. The Prince, then, having read the 
 petition, turned aside awhUe as before, and coming again to 
 the place where the petitioner lay on the ground, he demanded 
 what his name was, and of what esteem in the account of 
 Mansoul, for that he, above aU the multitude in Mansoul, 
 should be sent to him upon such an errand. Then said the 
 man to the Prince, "Oh let not my Lord be angry ; and why 
 inquirest thou after the name of such a dead dog as I am? 
 Pass by, I pray thee, and take not notice of who I am, be- 
 cause there is, as thou very weU knowest, so great a dispro- 
 portion between me and thee. Why the townsmen chose to 
 send me on this errand to my Lord, is best known to them- 
 selves, but it could not be for that they thought that I had 
 favour with my Lord. For my part, I am out of charity 
 with myself ; who, then, should be in love with me ? Yet 
 live I would, and so would I that my townsmen shoidd ; and 
 beca\ise both they and myself are guilty of great transores- 
 sions, therefore they have sent me, and I am come in their 
 names to beg of my Lord for mercy. Let it please thee, 
 therefore, to inchne to mercy ; but ask not what thy ser- 
 vants are." 
 
 Then said the Prince, "And what is he that is become thy 
 companion in this so weighty a matter?" So Mr Desirca 
 told Emmanuel that he was a poor neighbour of his, and one 
 of his most intunate associates. "And his name," said he, 
 "may it please your most excellent Majesty, is Wet-Eyes, of 
 the town of Mansoul. I know that there are many of that 
 name that are naught ; but I hope it will be no offence to 
 my Lord that I have brought my poor neighbour with me." 
 
 Then Mr Wet-Eyes fell ou hia face to the ground, and
 
 428 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 made tliis apology for his coming with his neighhour to hia 
 Lord. 
 
 "0 my Lord," quoth he, "what I am I know not myself, 
 nor whether my name be feigned or true, especially when I 
 begin to think what some have said, namely, That this name 
 was given me because Mr Repentance was my father. Good 
 men have bad children, and the sincere do oftentimes beget 
 hypocrites. My mother also called me by this name from 
 the cradle; but whether because of the moistness of my brain, 
 or because of the softness of my heart, I cannot tell. I see 
 dirt in mine own tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my 
 prayers. But I pray thee (and all this while the gentleman 
 wept) that thou wo\ildest not remember against us our trans- 
 gressions, nor take offence at the unqualifiedness of thy ser- 
 vants, but mercifully pass by the sin of iManaoul, and refrain 
 from the glorifying of thy grace no longer." 
 
 So at his bidding they arose, and both stood trembling be- 
 fore him, and he spake to them to this purpose : — 
 
 "The town of Mansoul hath grievously rebelled against 
 my Father, in that they have rejected him from being their 
 l^ing, and did choose to themselves for their captain a har, 
 a miirderer, and a runagate slave. For this Diabolus, your 
 pretended prince, though once so highly accounted of by you, 
 made rebellion against my Father and me, even in our palace 
 and highest coiui} there, thinking to become a prince and 
 king. But being there timely discovered and apprehended, 
 and for his wickedness boimd in chains, and separated to the 
 pit with those that were his companions, he oflfered himself 
 to you, and you have received him. 
 
 "Now this is, and for a long time hath been, a high 
 affront to my Father ; wherefore my Father sent to you a 
 powerful army to reduce you to your obedience. But you 
 know how these men, their captains and their counsels, were 
 esteemed of you, and what they received at your hand. You 
 i-ebelled against them, you shut your gates upon them, you 
 bid them battle, you foiight them, and fought for Diabolus 
 against them. So they sent to my Father for more power, and
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 429 
 
 I, with my men, are come to subdue you. But as you treated 
 the servants, so you treated their Lord. You stood up in hos- 
 tile manner agaiast me, you shut up your gates against me, 
 you turned the deaf ear to me, and resisted as long as you 
 could ; but now I have made a conquest of you. Did you cry 
 me mercy so long as you had hopes that you might prevail 
 against me ? But now I have taken the town, you cry ; but 
 why did you not cry before, when the white flag of my mercy, 
 the red flag of justice, and the black flag that threatened exe- 
 cution, were set up to cite you to it ? Now I have conquered 
 your Diabolus, you come to me for favour; but why did you 
 not help me against the mighty ? Yet I will consider your 
 petition, and will answer it so as will be for my glory. 
 
 "Go, bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction bring 
 the prisoners out to me into the camp to-morrow, and say 
 you to Captain Judgment and Captain Execution, ' Stay you 
 in the caatle, and take good heed to yourselves that you keep 
 all quiet in Manaoul until you shall hear further from me. ' " 
 And with that he turned himself from them, and went into 
 his royal pavilion again- 
 
 So the petitioners, having received this answer from the 
 Prince, returned, as at the first, to go to their companions 
 again. But they had not gone far, but thoughts began to 
 work Uk their minds that no mercy aa yet was intended by 
 the Prince to Mansoul. So they went to the place where the 
 prisoners lay bound ; but these workings of mind about what 
 would become of Mansoul had such strong power over them, 
 that by that they were come \mto them that sent them, they 
 were scarce able to deliver their message. 
 
 But they came at length to the gates of the town, (now 
 the townmen with earnestness were waiting for their return,) 
 where many met them, to know what answer was made to 
 the petition. Then they cried out to those that were sent, 
 "What news from the Prince? and what hath Emmanuel 
 Bftid?" But they said that they must, aa of inquisitive 
 afore, go up to the prison, and there deliver thoughts, 
 their mes.iage. So away they went to the prison, with a mul-
 
 430 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 titude at their heels. Now, when they were come to the 
 gates of the prison, they told the first part of Emmanuera 
 speech to the prisoners, to wit, how he reflected upon their 
 disloyalty to his Father and himself, and how they had chosen 
 and closed ^^'ith Diabolus, had fought for him, hearkened to 
 him, and been ruled by him ; but had despised him and his 
 men. This made the prisoners look pale; but the messengers 
 proceeded and said, "He, the Prince, said, moreover, that 
 yet he would consider your petition, and give such answer 
 thereto as would stand with his glory." And as these Avorda 
 were spoken, Mr Wet-eyes gave a great sigh. At this they 
 were all of them struck into their dimips, and coidd not tell 
 what to say : fear also possessed them in a marvellous man- 
 ner, and death seemed to sit upon some of their eyebrows. 
 Now, there was in the company a notable, sharp-witted 
 feUow, a mean man of estate, and his name was old Inqui- 
 sitive. This man asked the petitioners if they had told out 
 every whit of what Emmanuel said; and they answered, 
 " Verily, no." Then said Inquisitive, " I thought so, indeed. 
 Pray, what was it more that he said unto you ? " Then they 
 paused a while ; but at last they brought out all, sayinf, 
 "The Prince bade us bid Captain Boanerges and Captain 
 Conviction bring the prisoners down to him to-morrow ; and 
 that Captain Judgment and Captain Execution shoifld take 
 charge of the castle and town tUl they should hear further 
 from him." They said also, that when the Prince had com- 
 manded them thus to do, he immediately turned his back 
 upon them, and went into his royal pa^alion. 
 
 But, oh, how this return, and specially this last clause of 
 it, that the prisoners must go out to the Prince into the 
 camp, brake aU their loins in pieces ! Wherefore, with one 
 voice they set up a cry that reached up to the heavens. 
 This done, each of the three prepared himself to die ; (and 
 the Recorder said unto them, " This was the 
 thing that I feared ; " ) for they concluded 
 that to-morrow, by that the sun went down, they should 
 be tumbled out of the world. The whole town also coimted
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 431 
 
 of no otlier, but tliat, in tlieir time and ox'der, tiey must all 
 drink of the same cup. Wherefore the town of Mausoiil 
 spent that night in mourning, and sackcloth and ashes. The 
 prisoners also, when the time was come for them to go down 
 before the Prince, dressed themselves in mourning attire, 
 with ropes upon their heads. The whole town of Mansoul 
 also shewed themselves upon the wall, all clad in mourning 
 weeds, if, perhaps, the Prince with the sight thereof might 
 be moved with compassion. But, oh, how the 
 busy-bodies that were in the town of Mansoul 
 did now concern themselves ! They did run here and there 
 through the streets of the town by companies, crying out as they 
 ran in tumidtuous Avise, one after one manner, and another the 
 quite contrary, to the almost iitter distraction of Mansoul. 
 
 Well, the time is come that the prisoners must go down 
 to the camp, and appear before the Prince. And thus was 
 the manner of their going down : Captain Boanerges went 
 with a guard before them, and Captain Conviction came be- 
 hind, and the prisoners went down, bound in chains, in the 
 midst. So, I say, the prisoners went in the midst, and the 
 guard went with flying colours behind and before, but the 
 prisoners went with drooping spirits. 
 
 Or, more particidarly, thus : — The prisoners went doAvn 
 all in mourning ; they put ropes upon themselves ; they 
 went on, smiting themselves on the breasts, but durst not 
 lift up their eyes to heaven. Thus they went out at the 
 gate of Mansoul, till they came into the midst of the Prince's 
 army, the sight and glory of which did greatly heighten 
 their aiHiction. Nor could they now longer forbear, but cry 
 aloud, "0 unhappy men! wretched men of Mansoid!" 
 Their chains, still mixing their dolorous notes with the cries 
 of the prisoners, made the noise more lamentable. 
 
 So, when they were come to the door of the Prince's 
 pavilion, they cast themselves prostrate upon the place; 
 then one went in and told his Lord that the prisoners wera 
 come down. The Prince then ascended a throne of state, 
 and sent for the prisoners in; who, when they came, did
 
 432 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 tremble before bim, also tbey covered their faces with sbamo 
 Now, as tbey drew near to the place wbere be sat, tbey 
 tbxew tbemselveg down before bim. Tben said tbe Prince 
 to tbe Captain Boanerges, "Bid tbe prisoners stand upon 
 tbeir feet," Tben they stood trembling before bim, and be 
 said, ' ' Are you the men that heretofore were the servants 
 They are upon o^ Shaddai ? " And they said, ' ' Yes, ]jord, 
 their trial. ygg » rpj^^^^ g,^j^ ^-^^ Prince again, "Ai-e 
 
 you the men that did suffer yourselves to be corrupted and 
 defiled by that abominable one, Diabolus ? " And they said, 
 "We did more than suffer it. Lord; for we chose it of our 
 own mind." The Prince asked fui-tber, saying, " Could you 
 have been content that your slavery should have continued 
 under bis tyranny as long as you bad lived ? " Then said 
 tbe prisoners, ' ' Yes, Lord, yes ; for bis ways were pleasing 
 to our flesh, and we were grown aliens to a better state." — ■ 
 " And did you," said be, " when I came up against this town 
 of Mansoul, beartUy wish that I might not have the victory 
 over you?" — "Yes, Lord, yes," said tbey. Then said the 
 Prince, "And what punishment is it, think you, that you 
 desei-ve at my band, for these and other your high and 
 mighty sins ? " And tbey said, ' ' Both death and tbe deep, 
 Lord; for we have deserved no less." He asked again, if 
 tbey bad aught to say for themselves why the sentence, that 
 tbey confessed that tbey bad deserved, should not be passed 
 
 They condemn npon them? And they said, "We can say 
 
 themselves. nothing, Lord; thou art just, for we have 
 
 sinned." Tben said the Prince, "And for what are those 
 
 ropes on your beads?" The prisoners answered, "These 
 
 Sins. ropes are to bind us withal to the place of 
 
 Prov. V. 23. execution, if mercy be not pleasing in thy 
 
 sight." So be further asked, if all tbe men in tbe town of 
 
 Powers of the Mansoul were in this confession, as they ? 
 
 8oui. ^jj^j thej answered, ' ' All the natives, Lord ; 
 
 but for the Diabolonians that came into our town when the 
 
 Corruptions and tyrant got possession of us, we can say no- 
 i""'*- thing for them."
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 433 
 
 Thea the Irince commanded tliat a herald slioiild be called, 
 und that he should, in the midst and throughout the camp of 
 Emmanuel, proclaim, and that with sound of trumpet, that 
 the Prince, the Son of Shaddai, had, in his Father's name, 
 and for his Father's glory, gotten a perfect conquest and 
 victory over Mansoul ; and that the prisoners should follow 
 him, and say. Amen. So this was done as he had commanded. 
 And presently the music that was in the upper region sounded 
 melodiously, the captains that were in the camp shouted, and 
 the soldiers did sing songs of triumjjh to the Prince; the 
 colours waved in the wind, and great joy was everywhere, 
 only it was wanting as yet in the hearts of the men of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 Then the Prince called for the prisoners to come and to 
 stand again before him, and they came and stood trembling. 
 And he said unto them, "The sins, trespasses, iniquities, 
 that you, with the whole town of Mansoul, have from time 
 to time committed against my Father and me, I have power 
 and commandment from my Father to forgive to the town 
 of Mansoul, and do forgive you accordingly." And having 
 so said, he gave them, written in parchment, and sealed with 
 seven seals, a large and general pardon, commanding my 
 Lord Mayor, my Lord Willbewill, and Mr Recorder, to pro- 
 claim and cause it to be proclaimed to-morrow, by that the 
 sun is up, throughout the whole town of Mansoul. 
 
 Moreover, the Prince stripped the prisoners of their mourn- 
 ing weeds, and save them beauty for ashes, ^, . 
 
 ° ' ° •' ' Their rags are 
 
 the oil of joy for moiiming, and the garment taken from them. 
 
 . . - -, . XsaitiU lii. 3. 
 
 of praise for the spirit of heaviness. 
 
 Then he gave to each of the thi'ee, jewels of gold and 
 
 precious stones, and took away their ropes, x atrango 
 
 and put chains of gold about their necks, alteration. 
 
 and ear-rings in their ears. Now, the prisoners, when they 
 
 did hear the gracious words of Prince Emmanuel, and had 
 
 beheld all that was done unto them, fainted almost quite 
 
 away; for the grace, the benefit, the pardon, was sudden, 
 
 glorious, and so big, that they were not able, without 
 
 2 E
 
 4S4 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Bt&ggering, to stand up iinder it. Yea, my Lord Willbewill 
 Bwooned outright; but tlie Prince stepped to liim, put liis 
 everlasting arms under him, embraced liim, kissed him, and 
 bid him be of good cheer, for all should be performed accord- 
 ing to his word. He also did kiss, and embrace, and smile 
 upon the other two that -were Willbewill's companions, 
 saying, "Take these as further tokens of my love, favour, 
 and compassions to you; and I charge you that you, Mr 
 Recorder, teU in the town of Mansoul what you have heard 
 and seen." 
 Then were their fetters broken to pieces before their faces, 
 
 . and cast into the air, and their steps were 
 
 Tneir guilt. -,■,■,■, 
 
 enlarged under them. Then they fell down 
 
 at the feet of the Prince, and kissed his feet, and wetted 
 
 them with tears : also they cried out with a mighty strong 
 
 voice, saying, "Blessed be the glory of the Lord from this 
 
 place." So they were bid rise up, and go to the town, and 
 
 tell to Mansoul what the Prince had done. He commanded 
 
 also that one with a pipe and tabor should go and play 
 
 before them all the way into the town of Mansoul. Then 
 
 was fulfilled what they never looked for, and they were 
 
 made to possess that'which they never dreamed of. 
 
 The Prince also called for the noble Captain Credence, and 
 commanded that he and some of his oflBcers should march 
 before the noble men of Mansoul with flying colours into the 
 town. He gave also unto Captain Credence a charge, that 
 about that time the Recorder did read the general pardon in 
 the town of Mansoul, that at that very time he should with 
 flying colours march in at Eye-gate with his ten thousands 
 at his feet ; and that he should bo go until he came by the 
 high street of the town, up to the castle gates, and that 
 himself should take possession thereof against his Lord came 
 
 When faith and *^*=^®J^- He commanded, moreover, that 
 pardon meet toga- he should bid Captain Judgment and Cap- 
 
 ther, judgment and . . ^ ° , 
 
 execution depart tain Execution to leavo the strone hold to 
 
 from the heart. ,. -. .,,, , ,,, , 
 
 mm, and to withdraw from Mansoul, and 
 
 to return into the camp with speed unto the Prince.
 
 THE HOLY WAB. 433 
 
 And now was the town of Mansoiil also delivered from tlie 
 terror of the first foux captains and tlieir men. 
 
 Well, I told you before how the prisoners were entertained 
 by the noble Prince Emmanuel, and how they behaved them- 
 selves before him, and how he sent them away to their home 
 with pipe and tabor going before them. And now you must 
 think that those of the town that had all this while waited 
 to hear of their death, could not but be exercised with sad- 
 ness of mind, and with thoughts that pricked like thoi-ns. 
 Nor could their thoughts be kept to any one point ; the wind 
 blew with them all this while at great uncertainties ; yea, 
 their hearts were like a balance that had been disquieted 
 with a shaking hand. But at last, as they with many a 
 long look looked over the wall of Mansoul, they thought 
 that they saw some returning to the town; and thought 
 again, Who should they be too ? Who should they be ? At 
 last they discerned that they were the prisoners; but can 
 you imagine how their hearts were surprised with wonder, 
 specially when thej'- perceived also in what equipage and 
 with what honour they were sent home ? They went down 
 to the camp in black, but they came back ^ strange 
 to the town in white ; they went down to alteration. 
 the camp in ropes, they came back in chains of gold ; they 
 went down to the camp with their feet in fetters, but came 
 back with their steps enlarged under them ; they went also 
 to the camp looking for death, but they came back from 
 thence with assurance of life ; they went down to the camp 
 with heavy hearts, but came back again with pipe and tabor 
 playing before them ! So as soon as they were come to Eye- 
 gate, the poor and tottering town of Mansoul adventured to 
 give a shout ; and they gave such a shout as made the cap- 
 tains in the Prince's army leap at the sound thereof. Alas I 
 for them, poor hearts ! who could blame them ? since their 
 dead friends were come to life again ; for it was to them as 
 life from the dead to see the ancients of the town of Man- 
 mvl shine in such splendour. They looked for nothing but 
 the axe and the block; but, behold, joy and gladness, com-
 
 436 THE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 fort and consolation, and siicli melodious notes attending 
 
 tliem that Avas sufficient to make a, sick 
 
 Isaiah xxxiii. 24. 
 
 man well. 
 
 So, when they came up, they saluted each other with, "Wel- 
 come, welcome ! and blessed be he that has spared you ! " They 
 added also, " We see it is well with you; but how must it go 
 with the town of Mansoul ? And will it go well with the town 
 Conscience. ^f Mansoul ? " said they. Then answered 
 Tiie understanding. ^^^^^ ^^^ Recorder and my Lord Mayor, 
 "Oh, tidings! glad tidings! good tidings of good, and of 
 great joy to poor Mansoul ! " Then they gave another shout, 
 that made the earth to ring again. After this, they inquii-ed 
 yet more particularly how things went in the camp, and what 
 message they had from Emmanuel to the town. So they told 
 them all passages that had happened to them at the camji, 
 and everything that the Prince did to them. This made 
 Mansoul wonder at the wisdom and gi-ace of the Prince 
 Emmanuel. Then they told them what they had received at 
 hia hands for the whole town of ISIansoul, and the Recorder 
 Oh, the joy of delivered it in these words: "Pardon, 
 pardon of sin 1 pakdon, pabuo^st for Mansoid ! and this 
 shall Mansoul know to-morrow ! " Then he commanded, 
 and they went and summoned ISIansoul to meet together in 
 the market-place to-morrow, there to hear their general 
 pardon read. 
 
 But who can think what a turn, what a change, what an 
 alteration this hint of things did make in the covmtenance 
 of the town of Mansoul ! No man of Mansoul could sleep 
 that night for joy ; in every house there was joy and music, 
 singing and making merry : telling and hearing of Mansoul's 
 happiness was then all that Mansoul had to do ; and this 
 was the burden of all their song: "Oil, more of this at the 
 rising of the sun ! more of this to-morrow ! " " Who thought 
 yesterday," would one say, " that this day would have been 
 Buch a day to us? And who thought, that saw our prison- 
 ers go down in irons, that th«y woiQd have returned in 
 chains of gold? Yea, they that judged themselves as they
 
 THE HOLY "WAR. 437 
 
 went to be judged of their Judge, were by his mouth ac- 
 quitted, not for that they were innocent, but of the Prince's 
 mercy, and sent home with pipe and tabor. But is this the 
 common custom of princes ? Do they use to shew such kind 
 of favours to traitors ? No ; this is only peculiar to Shaddai, 
 and unto Emmanuel, his Son ! " 
 
 Now morning drew on apace ; wherefore the Lord Mayor, 
 the Lord WiUbewHl, and Mr Recorder came down to the 
 market-place at the time that the Prince had ajipointed, 
 where the to-\vnsfolk were waiting for them : and when they 
 came, they came in that attire and in that glory that the 
 Prince had put them into the day before, and the street was 
 lightened with their glory. So the Mayor, Pecorder, and 
 my Lord Willbewill drew down to Mouth-gate, which was 
 at the lower end of the market-place, because that of old 
 time was the place where they used to read public matters. 
 Thither, therefore, they came in their robes, and their 
 tabrets went before them. Now, the eagerness of the people 
 to know the full of the matter was great. 
 
 Then the Recorder stood up upon his feet, and, first beck- 
 oning with his hand for silence, he read out with a loud 
 voice the pardon. But when he came to these words, ' ' The 
 Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious. Exodus xxxiv. 
 pardoning iniquity, transgressions, and sins ; Matt. xi. 31. 
 and to them all manner of sin and blasphemy shaU be for- 
 given," &c., they could not forbear leaping for joy. For this 
 you must know, that there was conjoined heremth every 
 man's name in Mansoul; also the seals of the pardon made 
 a brave show. 
 
 When the Recorder had made an end of reading the par- 
 don, the townsmen ran up upon the walls j^-^^ ^^ley tread 
 of the town, and leaped and skipped thereon "1'°"^ "^^ '^''s^- 
 for joy, and bowed themselves seven times with their faces 
 towards Emmanuel's pavilion, and shouted out aloud for joy, 
 and said, "Let Emmanuel live for ever!" Lively and warm 
 Then order was given to the young men in thoughts. 
 Mansoul that they should ring the bells for joy. So the
 
 438 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 bells did ring, and the people sing, and the nausic go in every 
 house in Mansoul, 
 
 When the Prince had sent home the three prisoners of 
 Mansoul with joy, and pipe and tabor, he commanded his 
 captains, with all the field-officers and soldiers throughout 
 his army, to be ready in that morning that the Eecorder 
 should read the pardon in Mansoul, to do his further plea- 
 sure. So the morning, as I have shewed, being come, just 
 as the Recorder had made an end of reading the pardon, Em- 
 manuel commanded that aU the trumj)ets in the camp should 
 sound, that the colours should be displayed, half of them 
 upon Mount Gracious, and half of them upon Mount Justice. 
 He commanded also that all the captains should shew them, 
 selves in all their harness, and that the soldiers should shout 
 
 Faith will not be ^"'^ Jo^' ^«^' ^^^ Captain Credence, though 
 silent wiieu Mansoul in the castle, silent in such a day; but he, 
 
 IS S3iV6(l %/ ' 3 
 
 from the top of the hold, shewed himself 
 with sound of trumpet to Mansoul and to the Prince's 
 camp. 
 
 Thus have I shewed you the manner and way that Em- 
 manuel took to recover the town of Mansoul from under the 
 hand and power of the tyrant Diabolus. 
 
 Now, when the Prince had completed these, the outward 
 The Prince dis- ceremonies of his joy, he again commanded 
 
 plays his graces be- that his captains and soldiers should shew 
 fore Mansoul. ^ 
 
 unto Mansoul some feats of war: so they 
 
 presently addressed themselves to this work. But, oh, with 
 what agility, nimbleness, dexterity, and bravery did these 
 military men discover their skill in feats of war to the now 
 gazing town of Mansoul ! 
 
 They marched, they counter-marched ; they opened to the 
 right and left; they di\dded and subdivided; they closed, 
 they wheeled, made good their front and rear with their 
 right and left wings, and twenty things more, with that apt- 
 ness, and then were aU as they were again, that they took, 
 yea, ravished the hearts that were in Mansoid to behold it. 
 But add to this, the handling of their arms, the managing of
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 439 
 
 their weapons of war, were marvelloiisly taking to Mansoul 
 and me. 
 
 When thia action was' over, the whole town of Mansoiil 
 came out as one man to the Prince in the camp to thank 
 him, and praise him for his abimdant favour, and to beg that 
 it would please his Grace to come unto Mansoul with his 
 men, and there to take up their quarters for ever : and this 
 they did in most hiimble manner, bowing themselves seven 
 times to the groimd before him. Then said he, " All peace 
 be to you." So the town came nigh, and touched with the 
 hand the top of his golden sceptre; and they said, " Oh that 
 the Prince Emmanuel, with his captains and men of war, 
 would dwell in Mansoul for ever; and that his battering- 
 rams and slings might be lodged in her for the use and ser- 
 vice of the Prince, and for the help and strength of Mansoul ! 
 Foi-," said they, "we have room for thee, we have room for 
 thy men, we have also room for thy weapons of war, and a 
 place to make a magazine for thy carriages, g^y and hold to 
 Do it, Emmanuel, and thou shalt be King ^*" Mansoul. 
 and Captain in MansoiU for ever. Yea, govern thou also 
 according to all the desire of thy soul, and make thou 
 governors and princes under thee of thy captains and men 
 of war, and we will become thy servants, and thy laws shall 
 be our direction." 
 
 They added, moreover, and prayed his Majesty to con- 
 sider thereof; "for," said they, "if now, after all this grace 
 bestowed upon us, thy miserable town of Mansoul, thou 
 shoiddest withdraw, thoii and thy captains, from us, the 
 town of Mansoul will die. Yea," said they, "our blessed 
 Emmanuel, if thou shouldest depart from us now, now thou 
 hast done so much good for us, and shewed so much mercy 
 imto us, what will foUow but that our joy will be as if it 
 had not been, and our enemies wUl a second time come upon 
 us with more rage than at the first ? Wherefore, we beseech 
 thee, thou, the desire of our eyes, and the strength and 
 life of our poor town, accept of this motion that now wo 
 have made unto our Lord, and come and dwell in the midst
 
 440 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of us, aud let us be thy people. Besides, Lord, we do not 
 
 know but that to this day many Diaboloni- 
 TLeir fears. , , , , . . ,, , , ,, 
 
 ans may be yet lurking in the town of Man- 
 
 Boul, and they •will betray us, when thou shalt leave us, into 
 the hand of Diabolus again ; and who knows what designs, 
 plots, or contrivances have passed betwixt them about these 
 things already ? loth we are to fall again into his horrible 
 hands. Wherefore, let it please thee to accept of our palace 
 for thy place of residence, and of the houses of the best men 
 in our town for the reception of thy soldiers and their fur- 
 niture." 
 
 Then said the Prince, "If I come to your town, will you 
 suffer me further to prosecute that which is in mine heart 
 against mine enemies and yours ? yea, will you help me in 
 such undertakings ? " 
 
 They answered, "We know not what we shall do; we 
 did not think once that we shoidd have been such traitors to 
 Shaddai as we have proved to be. What, then, shaU we say 
 to our Lord ? Let him put no trust in his saints ; let the 
 Prince dwell in owt castle, and make of our town a garrison; 
 let him set his noble captains and his warlike soldiers over 
 us ; yea, let him conquer us with his love, and overcome us 
 with his grace, and then surely shall he be but with us, and 
 help us, as he was and did that morning that our pardon was 
 read unto us. We shaU comply with this our Lord, and 
 with his waj's, and fall in with his word against the 
 mighty. 
 
 ' ' One word more, and thy servants have done, and in this 
 wiU trouble our Lord no more. We know not the depth of 
 the wisdom of thee, our Prince. Who could have thought, 
 that had been ruled by his reason, that so much sweet as 
 we do now enjoy should have come out of those bitter trials 
 wherewith we were tried at the first ? But, Lord, let light 
 go before, and let love come after : yea, take us by the hand, 
 and lead us by thy coiinsels, and let this always abide upon 
 us, that all things shall be for the best for thy servants, and 
 come ts our Mansoul, and do as it pleaseth thee. Or, Lord,
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 441 
 
 oome to our Mansoul, do what thou -wilt, so thou keepest ua 
 from sinning, and makest us serviceable to thy Majesty." 
 
 Then said the Prince to the town of Mansoul again, "Go, 
 return to your houses in peace. I wiU willingly in this 
 comply with your desires ; I wall remove my royal pavilion, 
 I will draw up my forces before Eye-gate to-morrow, and 
 so will march forwards into the town of Mansoul. I will 
 possess myself of your castle of Mansoul, and will set my 
 soldiers over you; yea, I will yet do things in MansoiU that 
 cannot be paralleled in any nation, country, or kingdom 
 under heaven." 
 
 Then did the men of Mansoul give a shout, and returned 
 unto their houses in peace ; they also told to their kindred 
 and friends the good that Emmanuel had promised to 
 Mansoul. "And to-morrow," said they, "he wiU march 
 into our town and take up his dwelling, he and his men, in 
 MansouL" 
 
 Then went out the inhabitants of the town of Llansoid 
 ■with haste to the green trees and to the meadows, to gather 
 boughs and flowers, therewith to strew the streets against 
 their Prince, the Son of Shaddai, should come; they also 
 made garlands and other fine works to betoken how joyful 
 they were, and should be, to receive their Emmanuel into 
 Mansoul ; yea, they strewed the street quite from Eye-gate 
 to the castle-gate, the jilace where the Prince should be. 
 They also prepared for hia coming what music the tovm of 
 Mansoid woidd afford, that they might play before him to 
 the palace, his habitation. 
 
 So, at the time appointed he makes his approach to Man- 
 soul, and the gates were set open for him; there also the 
 ancients and elders of Mansoul met him to salirte him with a 
 thousand welcomes. Then he arose and entered INIansoul, 
 he and aU his servants. The elders of Mansoul did also go 
 dancing before him tiU he came to the castle gates. And 
 this was the manner of his going up thither : — He was clad 
 in bis golden armour, he rode in his royal chariot, the trum- 
 pets sounded about him, the colours were displayed, his ten
 
 442 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 thousands went up at liis feet, and the elders of Mansoul 
 danced before him. And now were the walls of the famous 
 town of Mansoul filled with the tramplings of the inhabit- 
 ants thereof, who went up thither to view the approach of 
 the blessed Prince and his royal army. Also the casements, 
 windows, balconies, and tops of the houses, were aU now 
 fiUed with persons of all sorts, to behold how their toira 
 was to be filled with good. 
 
 Now, when he was come so far into the town as to the 
 Recorder's house, he commanded that one should go to Cap- 
 tain Credence, to know whether the castle of Mansoul was 
 prepared to entertain his royal presence, 
 (for the preparation of that was left to that 
 captain,) and word was brought that it was. Then was 
 Captain Credence commanded also to come forth with his 
 power to meet the Prince, the which was, as he had com- 
 manded, done; and he conducted him into 
 the castle. This done, the Prince that 
 night did lodge in the castle with his mighty captains and 
 men of war, to the joy of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Now, the next care of the townsfolk was, how the captains 
 and soldiers of the Prince's army should be quartered among 
 them ; and the care was not how they should shut their hands 
 of them, but how they should fiU their houses with them ; 
 for every man in Mansoul now had that esteem of Emmanuel 
 and his men, that nothing grieved them more than because 
 they were not enlarged enough, every one of them, to receive 
 the whole army of the Prince : yea, they counted it their 
 glory to be waiting upon them, and would, in those days, 
 nm at their bidding like lacqueys. At last they came to 
 this result : — 
 
 1. That Captain Innocency should quarter at Mr Reason's. 
 
 2. That Captain Patience should quarter at Mr Mind's. 
 Tliis Mr Mind was formerly the Lord Willbewill's clerk in 
 time of the late rebellion, 
 
 3. It was ordered that Captain Charity should quarter a» 
 Mr Affection's house.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 443 
 
 4. That Captaiu Good-Hope should quarter at my Lord 
 Mayor's. Now, for the house of the Recorder, himself 
 desired, because his house was next to the castle, and because 
 from him it was ordered by the Prince that, if need be, the 
 alarm should be given to Mansoul, — it was, I say, desired by 
 him that Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction should 
 take up their quarters with him, even they and all their men. 
 
 5. As for CajDtain Judgment and Captain Execution, my 
 Lord WiUbcwill took them and their men to jj^m ^ jg 
 him, because he was to rule imder the Prince -^p*^- '"• ^^• 
 
 for the good of the town of Mansoid now, as he had before 
 under the tyrant Diabolus for the hurt and damage thereof. 
 
 6. And throughout the rest of the town were quartered 
 Emmamiel's forces; but Captain Credence, with his men, 
 abode still in the castle. So the Prince, his captains and his 
 soldiers, were lodged in the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Now, the ancients and elders of the town of Mansoul 
 thought that they never should have enough of the Prince 
 Emmanuel ; his person, his actions, hia words and behaviour, 
 were so pleasing, so taking, so desirable to them. Wherefore 
 they prayed him, that though the castle of Mansoul was his 
 place of residence, (and they desired that he might dwell 
 there for ever,) yet that he would often visit the streets, 
 houses, and people of Mansoid. "For," said they, "dread 
 Sovereign, thy presence, thy looks, thy smiles, thy words, 
 are the life, and strength, and sinews of the town of 
 Mansoul." 
 
 Besides this, they craved that they might have, without 
 difficidty or interruption, continual access unto him, (so for 
 that very purpose he commanded that the gates shoiUd stand 
 open,) that they might there see the manner of his doings, 
 the fortifications of the jjlace, and the royal mansion-house 
 of the Prince. 
 
 When he spake, they all stopped their mouths, and gave 
 audience ; and when he walked, it was their 
 delight to imitate him in his goings. 
 
 Now, upon a time, Emmanuel made a feast for the town
 
 444 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of Mansoul; aud upon the f easting-day the townsfolk were 
 
 come to the castle to partake of his banquet; and he feasted 
 
 them with all manner of outlandish food — food that grew 
 
 not in the fields of Mansoul, nor in aU the whole kingdom of 
 
 Promise after Universe : it was food that came from his 
 
 promise. Father's court. And so there was dish after 
 
 dish set before them, and they were commanded freely 
 
 to eat. But stiU, when a fresh dish wag set before them, 
 
 .J, they would whisperiugly say to each other, 
 
 Brave entertain- "What is it?" for they wist not what to 
 ment. . 
 
 call it. They drank also of the water that 
 
 was made wine, and were very merry with him. There was 
 
 Psalm iiiviii. niusic also aU the while at the table ; and man 
 
 24, 25. ^j(j gg^^ angels' food, and had honey given 
 
 him out of the rock. So Mansoul did eat the food that was 
 
 peculiar to the court ; yea, they had now thereof to the full. 
 
 I must not forget to tell you, that as at this table there 
 wore musicians, so they were not those of the country, nor 
 yet of the town of Mansoul ; but they were the masters of 
 the songs that were sung at the court of Shaddai. 
 
 Now, after the feast was over, Emmanuel was for enter- 
 
 taining the town of Mansoul with some 
 
 curious riddles of secrets drawn up by his 
 
 Father's secretary, by the skill and wisdom of Shaddai : the 
 
 The Holy like to these there is not in any kingdom. 
 
 Scriptures. These riddles were made upon the King 
 
 Shaddai himself, and upon Emmanuel his Son, and upon his 
 
 wars and doings with Mansoul. 
 
 Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of those riddles 
 himself ; but, oh, how they were lightened ! They saw 
 what they never saw; they could not have thought that such 
 rarities could have been couched in so few and such ordinary 
 words. I told you before, whom these riddles did concern ; 
 and as they were opened, the people did evidently see it was 
 so. Yea, they did gather that the things themselves were a 
 kind of portraiture, and that of Emmamiel himself ; for when 
 they read in the scheme where the riddles were writ, and
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 445 
 
 looked in the face of the Prince, things looked so like the 
 one to the other, that Mansoul could not forbear but say, 
 "This is the larub ! this is the sacrifice! this is the rock! 
 this is the red cow ! this is the door ! and this is the way ! " 
 with a great many other things more. 
 
 And thus he dismissed the town of MansouL But can you 
 imagine how the people of the corx^oration xiig end of that 
 were taken with this entertainment ? Oh, banquet, 
 
 they were transported with joy, they were drowned with 
 wonderment, while they saw and understood, and considered 
 what their Emmanuel entertained them withal, and what 
 mysteries he opened to them ! And when they were at home 
 in their houses, and in their most retired places, they could 
 not but sing of him and of his actions. Yea, so taken were 
 the townsmen now with their Prince, that they would sing 
 of him in their sleep. 
 
 Now, it was in the heart of the Prince Emmanuel to new- 
 model the town of Mansoul, and to put it into such a condi- 
 tion as might be most pleasing to him, and that might best 
 stand with the profit and security of the now flourishing 
 town of Mansoid. He pro\dded also against insurrections at 
 home, and invasions from abroad, such love had he for the 
 famous town of Mansoul. 
 
 Wherefore he first of all commanded that the great slings 
 that were brought from his Father's court, when he came to 
 the war of Mansoiil, shoidd be mounted, some upon the 
 battlements of the castle, some upon the towers ; for there 
 were towers in the town of Mansoul, towers new-built by 
 Emmanuel siace he came hither. There was also an instru- 
 ment, invented by Emmanuel, that was to throw stones from 
 the castle of Mansoul, out at Mouth-gate ; an instrument 
 that could not be resisted, nor that would miss of execution. 
 Wherefore, for the wonderful exploits that it did when used, 
 it went without a name ; and it was committed to the care 
 of, and to be managed by, the brave captain, the Captain 
 Credence, in case of war. 
 
 This done, Emmanuel called the Lord Willbewill to him,
 
 446 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 and gave him in commandment to take care of the gates, 
 the waU, and towera in Mansoiil ; also the Prince gave him 
 the militia into his hand, and a special charge to withstand 
 all insurrections and tumidts that might be made in Mansoul 
 against the peace of our Lord the King, and the peace and 
 tranquillity of the town of Mansoul. He also gave him i:i 
 commission, that if he found any of the Diabolonians lurking 
 in any corner of the famous town of Mansoid, he should forth 
 with apprehend them, and stay them, or commit them to safo 
 custody, that they may be proceeded against according to law 
 
 Then he called unto him the Lord Understanding, who 
 was the old Lord !Mayor, he that was put out of place when 
 Diabolus took the toAvn, and put him into his former office 
 again, and it became his place for his lifetime. He bid him 
 also that he should build him a palace near Eye-gate, and 
 that he should build it in fashion like a tower for defence. 
 He bid him also that he shoidd read in the Revelation of 
 Mysteries aU the days of his life, that he might know how 
 to perform his office aright. 
 
 He also made ^Mr Knowledge the Eecorder, not of con- 
 tempt to old Mr Conscience, who had been Recorder before, 
 but for that it was in his princely mind to confer upon Mr 
 Conscience another employ, of which he told the old gentle- 
 man he shoidd know more hereafter. 
 
 Then he commanded that the image of Diabolus shoidd 
 be taken down from the place where it was set up, and that 
 they should destroy it iitterly, beating it into powder, and 
 casting it into the wind without the town wall; and that the 
 image of Shaddai, his Father, should be set up again, with 
 his own, upon the castle gates; and that it 
 
 "Roy yrii. 4 » 
 
 shoidd be more fairly drawn than ever, for- 
 asmuch as both his Father and himself were come to Man- 
 soid in more grace and mercy than heretofore. He would 
 also that his name shoidd be fairly engraven upon the front 
 of the town, and that it shoidd be done in the best of gold, 
 for the honour of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 After this was done, Emmanuel gave out a commandment,
 
 THE flOLY WAR 447 
 
 tliat those tliree great Diabolonians should be apprehended, 
 namely, the two late Lord Mayors, to wit, Mr Tncrediility, 
 Mr Lustings, and Mr Forget-Good, the Eecorder. Besides 
 these, there were some of them that Diabolus made bur- 
 gesses and aldermen in Mansoul, that were committed to 
 ward by the hand of the now valiant and now right noble, 
 the brave Lord WUlbewill. 
 
 And these were their names : — Alderman Atheism, Alder- 
 man Hard-Heart, and Alderman False-Peace. The burgesses 
 were, Mr No-Truth, Mr Pitiless, Mr Haughty, with the like. 
 These were committed to close custody, and the gaoler's name 
 was Mr True-Man. This True-Man was one of those that 
 Emmanuel brought with him from his Father's court when at 
 the first he made a war upon Diabolus in. the town of Mansoul. 
 
 After this, the Prince gave a charge that the three strong 
 holds that, at the command of Diabolus, the Diabolonians 
 built in Mansoul, should be demolished and utterly pulled 
 down ; of which holds and their names, with their captains 
 and governors, you read a Httle before. But this was long 
 in doing, because of the largeness of the places, and because 
 the stones, the timber, the iron, and all rubbish, was to be 
 carried withoiit the town. 
 
 When this was done, the Prince gave order that the Lord 
 Mayor and aldermen of Mansoul should call a coui-t of judi- 
 cature for the trial and execution of the Diabolonians in the 
 corporation now under the charge of Mr True-Man, the gaoler. 
 
 Now, when the time was come, and the court set, com- 
 mandment was sent to IMr True-Man, the gaoler, to bring the 
 prisoners down to the bar. Then were the prisoners brought 
 down, pinioned and chained together, as the custom of the 
 town of Mansoul was. So, when they were presented before 
 the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and the rest of the honour' 
 able bench, first, the jiuy was empanneUed, and then the 
 witnesses sworn. The names of the jury were these: — Mr 
 Belief, Mr True-heai-t, Mr Upright, Mr Hate-Bad, Mr Love- 
 God, Mr See-Truth, IVIr Heavenly-Mind, Mr Moderate, Ikir 
 Tliankfid, Mr Good-Work, Mr Zeal-f or-God, and Mr Humble.
 
 448 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 The names, of the witnesses were — Mr Know-All, Mr Tell 
 True, Mr Hate-Lies, witLi my Lord Willbewill and his man, 
 if need were. 
 
 So the prisoners were set to the bar. Then said Mr Do- 
 right, (for he was the Tawn-Clerk,) "Set Atheism to the 
 bar, gaoler." So he was set to the bar. Then said the 
 Clerk, "Atheism, hold up thy hand. Thou art here in- 
 dicted by the name of Atheism, (an intruder upon the town 
 of Mansoul,) for that thou hast perniciously and doltishly 
 taught and maintained that there is no God, and so no heed 
 to be taken to religion. This thou hast done against the 
 being, honour, and glory of the King, and against the peace 
 and safety of the town of Mansoul. What sayest thou ? Ai-t 
 thou guilty of this indictment, or not ?" 
 
 Atheism. Not guilty. 
 
 Crier. Call Mr Know-Ail, Mi- TeU-True, and Mr Hate- 
 Lies into the court. 
 
 So they were called, and they appeared. 
 
 Then said the Clerk, "You, the witnesses for the King, 
 look upon the prisoner at the bar; do you know him ?" 
 
 Then said Mr Know-All, "Yes, my lord, we know him; 
 his name is Atheism ; he has been a very pestilent fellow for 
 many years in the miserable tovra of MansouL" 
 
 Clerk. You are sure you know him ? 
 
 Know. Know him ! Yes, my lord ; I have heretofore too 
 often been in his company to be at this time ignorant of him. 
 He is a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian : I knew his 
 grandfather and his father. 
 
 Clerk. Well said. He standeth here indicted by the name 
 of Atheism, &c., and is charged that he hath maintained and 
 taught that there is no God, and so no heed need be taken to 
 any religion. What say you, the King's witnesses, to this ? 
 Is he guilty, or not ? 
 
 Know. My lord, I and he were once in Villains' Lane 
 together, and he at that time did briskly talk of divers 
 opinions ; and then and there I heard him say, that, for hi* 
 part, he did believe that there was no God. "But," said he,
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 449 
 
 " I can profess one, and be as religions too, if the company I 
 am in, and tlie circumstances of other things," said he, "shall 
 put me upon it." 
 
 Clerh You are sure you heard him say thus ? 
 
 Know. Upon mine oath, I heard him say thus. 
 
 Then said the Clerk, ' ' Mr Tell-True, what say you to the 
 King's Judges touching the prisoner at the bar?" 
 
 Tell. My lord, I formerly was a great companion of his, 
 for the which I now repent me ; and I have often heard him 
 say, and that with very great stomachfulness, that he be- 
 lieved there was neither God, angel, nor spirit. 
 
 Clerh, Where did you hear him say so ? 
 
 Tdl. In Blackmouth Lane and in Blasphemers' Bow, and 
 in many other places besides. 
 
 Clerh. Have you much knowledge of him ? 
 
 Tell. I know him to be a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabo- 
 lonian, and a horrible man to deny a Deity. His father's 
 name was Never-be-Good, and he had more children than 
 this Atheism. I have no more to say. 
 
 Clerh. Mr Hate-Lies, look upon the prisoner at the bar ; 
 do yoii know him ? 
 
 Hate. My lord, this Atheism is one of the vilest wretches 
 that ever I came near, or had to do with in my life. I have 
 heard him say that there is no God ; I have heard him say 
 that there is no world to come, no sin, nor pimishnient here- 
 after; and, moreover, I have heard him say that it was as 
 good to go to a whore-house as to go to hear a sermon. 
 
 Clerh. Where did you hear him say these things ? 
 
 Hate. In Drimkards' Row, just at Eascal-Lane's End, at 
 a house in which Mr Impiety lived. 
 
 Clerh. Set him hy, gaoler, and set Mr Lustings to the bar. 
 Mr Lustings, thou art here indicted by the name of Lustings, 
 (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou hast 
 devilishly and traitorously taught, by practice and filthy 
 words, that it is lawful and profitable to man to give way to 
 his carnal desires ; and that thou, for thy part, hast not, nor 
 never wilt, deny thyself of any sinful delight as long as thy 
 
 2 F
 
 450 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 name is Lustings. How sayest thou ? Art thou guilty of 
 this indictment, or not ? 
 
 Then said Mr Lustings, " My lord, I am a man of high 
 birth, and have been used to pleasures and pastimes of 
 greatness. T have not been -wont to be snubbed for my 
 doings, but have been left to follow my will as if it were 
 law. And it seems strange to me that I should this day be 
 called into question for that, that not only I, but almost all 
 men, do either secretly or openly countenance, love, and ap- 
 prove of." 
 
 Clerk. Sir, we concern not ourselves with your greatness, 
 (though the higher, the better you should have been,) but 
 we are concerned, and so are you now, about an indictment 
 preferred against you. How say you ? Are you guilty of it, 
 or not? 
 
 Lust. Not guilty. 
 
 Clerk. Crier, call upon the witnesses to stand forth and 
 give their evidence. 
 
 Crier. Gentlemen, you, the witnesses for the King, come 
 in and give in your evidence for our Lord the King against 
 the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Come, Mr Know-Ail, look upon the prisoner at the 
 bar; do you know him? 
 
 Know. Yes, my lord, T know him. 
 
 Clerk. What is his name ? 
 
 Know. His name is Lustings; he was the son of one 
 Beastly, and his mother bare him in Flesh Street : she was 
 one Evil-Concupiscence's daughter. I knew all the genera- 
 tion of them. 
 
 Clerk. Well said. You have heard his indictment; what 
 say you to it ? Is he guilty of the things charged against 
 him, or not ? 
 
 Know. My lord, he has, as he saith, been a great man 
 indeed, and greater in wickedness than by pedigree more 
 than a thoiisandfold. 
 
 Clerk. But what do you know of his particular actions, 
 and especially with reference to his indictDient ?
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 451 
 
 Knoic. I know him to be a swearer, a liar, a Sabbath- 
 breaker; I know him to be a fornicator and an unclean per- 
 son ; I know him to be guilty of abundance of evils. He has 
 been, to my knowledge, a very filthy man. 
 
 Cleric. But where did he use to commit his wickednesses ? 
 in some private corners, or more open and shamelessly ? 
 
 Know. All the town over, my lord. 
 
 Clerh Come, Mr Tell-True, what have you to say for our 
 Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar ? 
 
 Tell. My lord, aU that the first witness has said I know 
 to be true, and a great deal more besides. 
 
 Cle7-k. Mr Liistings, do you hear what these gentlemen 
 say? 
 
 Lust. I was ever of opinion that the happiest life that a 
 man could live on earth was, to keep himself back from no- 
 thing that he desired in the world ; nor have I been false at 
 any time to this opinion of mine, but have lived in the love 
 of my notions all my days. Nor was I ever so churlish, 
 ha^'ing found such sweetness in them myself, as to keep the 
 commendations of them from others. 
 
 Then said the Court, "There hath proceeded enough from 
 his own mouth to lay him open to condemnation; wherefore 
 set him by, gaoler, and set Mr Incredulity to the bar." 
 
 Incredulity set to the bar, 
 
 Cle7'L Mr Incredulity, thou art here indicted by the name 
 of Increduliby, (an intruder upon the tovra. of Mansoul,) for 
 that thou hast feloniously and wickedly, and that when thou 
 wert an officer in the town of Mansoul, made head against 
 the captains of the great King Shaddai when they came and 
 demanded possession of Mansoul; yea, thou didst bid defi- 
 ance to the name, forces, and cause of the King, and didst 
 also, as did Diabolus thy captain, stir up and encourage the 
 town of Mansoul to make head against and resist the said 
 force of the King. What sayest thou to this indictment? 
 Art thou guilty of it, or not ? 
 
 Then said Incredulity, "I know not Shaddai; I love my 
 old prince ; I thought it my duty to be true to my trust.
 
 452 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 and to do what I could to possess the mmds of the men of 
 Mansoul to do their utmost to resist strangers and foreigners, 
 and with might to fight against them. Nor have I, nor shall 
 I, change mine opinion for fear of trouble, though you at 
 present are possessed of place and power." 
 
 Then said the Court, ' ' The man, as you see, is incorrigible ; 
 he is for maintaining his villanies by stoutness of words, and 
 his rebellion with impudent confidence; and therefore set 
 him by, gaoler, and set Mr Forget-Good to the bar. 
 
 Forget-Good set to the bar. 
 
 Clerk. ]SIr Forget-Good, thou art here indicted by the 
 name of Forget-Good, (an intruder upon the town of Man- 
 soiU,) for that thou, when the whole affairs of the town of 
 Mansoul were in thy hand, didst utterly forget to serve them 
 in what was good, and didst faU in with the tyrant Diabolus 
 against Shaddai the King, against his captains and all his 
 host, to the dishonour of Shaddai, the breach of his law, 
 and the endangering of the destruction of the famous towii 
 of Mansoul. "What sayest thou to this indictment ? Art 
 thou guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 Then said Forget-Good, " Gentlemen, and at this time my 
 judges, as to the indictment by which I stand of several 
 crimes accused before you, pray attribute my forgetfulness 
 to mine age, and not to my wiKulness; to the craziness of 
 my brain, and not to the carelessness of my mind ; and then 
 T hope I may be by your charity excused from great punish- 
 ment, though I be guilty." 
 
 Then said the Court, "Forget-Good, Forget-Good, thy 
 forgetfulness of good was not simply of frailty, but of pur- 
 pose, and for that thou didst loathe to keep virtuous things 
 in thy mind. What was bad thou corddst retain, but what 
 was good thoii couldst not abide to think of : thy age, there- 
 fore, and thy pretended craziness, thou makest use of to 
 blind the court withal, and as a cloak to cover thy knavery. 
 But let us hear what the witnesses have to say for the King 
 against the prisoner at the bai'. Is he guilty of this indict- 
 ment, or not?"
 
 THE HOLY WaK. 453 
 
 Hate. My lord, I have lieard this Forget-Good say, that 
 he coidd never abide to think of goodness, no, not for a 
 quarter of an hour. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say so ? 
 
 Hate. In All-base Lane, at a house next door to the sign 
 of the Conscience seared with a hot iron. 
 
 Clerk. Mr Know- All, what can you say for oui- Lord the 
 King against the prisoner at the bar ? 
 
 Know. My lord, I know this man well. He is a Diabo- 
 lonian, the son of a Diabolonian : his father's name was 
 Love-Naught ; and for him, T have often heard him say, that 
 he counted the very thoughts of goodness the most burden- 
 some thing in the world. 
 
 Clerk. Where have you heard him say these words ? 
 
 Knoio. In Flesh Lane, right opposite to the church. 
 
 Then said the Clerk, "Come, Mr TeU-True, give in your 
 evidence concerning the prisoner at the bar, about that for 
 which he stands here, as you see, indicted by this honour- 
 able Court." 
 
 Tell. My lord, I have heard him often say, he had rather 
 think of the vilest thing than of what is contained in the 
 Holy Scriptures. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say such grievous words ? 
 
 Tell. Where ? In a great many places, particularly in 
 Nauseous Street, in the house of one Shameless, and in Filth 
 Lane, at the sign of the Reprobate, next door to the Descent 
 into the Pit. 
 
 Court. Gentlemen, you have heard the indictment, his 
 plea, and the testimony of the witnesses. Gaoler, set Mr 
 Hard-Heart to the bar. 
 
 He is set to the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr Hard-Heart, thou art here indicted by the name 
 of Hard-Heart, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) 
 for that thou didst most desperately and wickedly possess 
 the town of Mansoul with impenitency and obdiu-ateness; 
 and didst keep them from remorse and sorrow for their evils, 
 all the time of their apostasy from and rebellion against the
 
 Aoi THE HOLV WAE. 
 
 blessed King ShaddaL What sayest thou to this indictment? 
 Art thou guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 Hard. My lord, I never knew what remorse or sorrow 
 meant in all my life. I am impenetrable, I care for no man ; 
 nor can I be pierced with men's griefs ; their groans will not 
 enter into my heart. Whomsoever I mischief, whomsoever 
 I wrong, to me it is music, when to others moitming. 
 
 Court. You see the man is a right Diabolonian, and has 
 convicted himself. Set him by, gaoler, and set Mr False- 
 Peace to the bar. 
 
 False-Peace set to the bar. 
 
 "Mr False-Peace, thou art here indicted by the name of 
 False-Peace, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for 
 that thou didst most wickedly and satanically bring, hold, 
 and keep the town of Mansoul, both in her apostasy and in 
 her hellish rebellion, in a false, groundless, and dangerous 
 peace, and damnable secuiity, to the dishonour of the King, 
 the trangression of his law, and the great damage of the 
 town of Mansoul. What sayest thou ? Art thou guilty of 
 this indictment, or not ? " 
 
 Then said Mr False-Peace, "Gentlemen, and you now 
 appointed to be my judges, I acknowledge that my name is 
 Mv Peace ; but that my name is False-Peace, I utterly deuy. 
 ]f your honours shall please to send for any that do inti- 
 mately know me, or for the midwife that laid my mother of 
 me, or for the gossips that were at my christening, they will, 
 any or all of them, prove that my name is not False-Peace, 
 but Peace. Wherefore I cannot plead to this indictment, 
 forasmuch as my name is not inserted therein ; and as is my 
 true name, so are also my conditions. I was always a man 
 that loved to live at quiet, and what I loved myself, that I 
 thought others might love also. Wherefore, when I saw 
 any of my neighbovirs to labour under a disquieted mind, 
 I endeavoured to help them what I could; and instances 
 of this good temper of mine many I could give : as, 
 
 " 1. When, at the beginning, our town of Mansoul did 
 dechne the ways of ShaddaL they, some of them, afterwards
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 455 
 
 began to have disquieting reflections upon tliemselves for 
 what they had done ; but I, as one troubled to see them dis- 
 quieted, presently sought out means to get them quiet again. 
 
 " 2. When the ways of the old world, and of Sodom, were 
 in fashion, if anything hapjjened to molest those that were 
 for the customs of the present times, I laboured to make 
 them quiet again, and to cause them to act mthout molesta- 
 tion. 
 
 "3. To come nearer home: when the wars fell out be- 
 tween Shaddai and Diabolus, if at any time I saw any of the 
 town of Mansoul afraid of destruction, I often used, by some 
 way, device, invention, or other, to labovu- to bring them to 
 peace again. Wherefore, since I have been always a man of 
 so virtuous a temper as some say a peace-maker is, and if a 
 peace-maker be so deserving a man as some have been bold 
 to attest he is, then let me, gentlemen, be accounted by you, 
 who have a great name for justice and equity in Mansoid, for 
 a man that deserveth not this inhuman way of treatment, 
 but liberty, and also a licence to seek damage of those that 
 have been my accusers." 
 
 Then said the Clerk, "Crier, make a pioclamation." 
 
 Crier. Oh yes ! Forasmuch as the prisoner at the bar hath 
 denied his name to be that which is mentioned in the indict- 
 ment, the Court requireth, that if there be any in this place 
 that can give information to the Court, of the original and 
 right name of the prisoner, they would come forth and give 
 in their evidence; for the prisoner stands upon his own 
 inuocency. 
 
 Then came two into the court, and desired that they 
 might have leave to speak what they knew concerning the 
 prisoner at the bar : the name of the one was Search-Truth, 
 and the name of the other Vouch-Truth, So the Court de- 
 manded of these men if they knew the prisoner, and what 
 they coidd say concerning him, " for he stands," said they, 
 "upon his own vindication." 
 
 Then said Mr Search-Truth, " My lord, I " 
 
 Court. Hold ! give him his oath.
 
 45G THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 Then they r.ware liim. So lie proceeded. 
 
 Search. My lord, I know and have known this man from 
 a child, and can attest that his name is False-Peace. I knew 
 his father; his name was Mr Flatter : and his mother, before 
 she was married, was called by the name of Mrs Sooth-Up : 
 and these two, when they came together, lived not long 
 without this son; and when he was born, they called his 
 name False-Peace. I was his playfellow, only I was some- 
 what older than he; and when his mother did use to call 
 him home from his play, she used to saj'', "False-Peace, 
 False-Peace, come home quick, or I '11 fetch you." Yea, I 
 knew him when he sucked; and though I was then but 
 little, yet I can remember, that when his mother did use to 
 sit at the door with him, or did play with him in her arms, 
 she would call him, twenty times together, " My little False- 
 Peace ! my pretty False-Peace ! " and, " Oh ! my sweet rogue, 
 False-Peace ! " aud again, " Oh ! my little bird, False-Peace ! " 
 and "How do I love my child !" The gossips also know it 
 is thus, though he has had the face to deny it in open court. 
 
 Then Mr Vouch-Truth was caUed upon to speak what he 
 knew of him. So they sware him. 
 
 Then said Mr Voiich-Truth, "My lord, aU that the former 
 witness hath said is true. His name is False-Peace, the sou 
 of Mr Flatter, and of Mrs Sooth-Up, his mother : and T have 
 in former times seen him angry with those that have called 
 him anything else but False-Peace, for he would say that 
 such did mock and nickname him ; but this was in the time 
 when IMi- False-Peace was a great man, aud when the Diabo- 
 lonians were the brave men in Mansoul." 
 
 Court. Gentlemen, you have heard what these two men 
 have sworn against the prisoner at the bar. And now, Mr 
 False-Peace, to you : you have denied your name to be False- 
 Peace, yet you see that these honest men have sworn that 
 that is yoiir name. As to your plea, in that you are quite 
 besides the matter of your indictment, you are not by it 
 charged for evil-doing because you are a man of peace, or a 
 peace-maker among your neighbours; but for that you did
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 457 
 
 wickedly And satanically bring, keep, and hold tlie town of 
 Mansoid, both under its apostasy from, and in its rebellion 
 against its King, in a false, lying, and damnable peace, 
 contrary to the law of Shaddai, and to the hazard of the 
 destruction of the then miserable town of MansoiJ. All that 
 yon have pleaded for yourself is, that you have denied your 
 name, &c. ; but here, you see, we have witnesses to prove 
 that you are the man. For the peace that you so much boast 
 of making among your neighbours, know that peace that is 
 not a companion of truth and holiness, but that which is 
 without this foundation, is grounded upon a lie, and is both 
 deceitful and damnable, as also the great Shaddai hath said. 
 Thy plea, therefore, has not delivered thee from what by the 
 indictment thou art charged with, but rather it doth fasten 
 all iipon thee. But thou shalt have very fair play. Let us 
 call the witnesses that are to testify as to matter of fact, and 
 see what they have to say for our Lord the King against the 
 prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr Kjiow-A11, what say yoii for our Lord the King 
 against the prisoner at the bar ? 
 
 Know. My lord, this man hath of a long time made it, to 
 my knowledge, his business to keep the town of Mansoul in 
 a sinful quietness in the midst of all her lewdness, fidthiness, 
 and turmoils, and hath said, and that in my hearing. Come, 
 come, let us fly from all trouble, on what ground soever it 
 comes, and let us be for a quiet and peaceable life, though it 
 wanteth a good foundation. 
 
 Clerk. Come, Mr Hate-Lies, what have you to say ? 
 
 Hate. My lord, I have heard him say, that peace, though 
 in a way of unrighteousness, is better than trouble with 
 truth. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say this ? 
 
 Hate. I heard him say it in Folly -yard, at the house of 
 one Mr Simple, next door to the sign of the Self-deceiver. 
 Yea, he hath said this to my knowledge twenty times in 
 that place. 
 
 Clerk. We may spare further witness; this evidence is
 
 458 THK HOLY WAR. 
 
 plain and full. Set liim by, gaoler, aud set Mx- No-Truth to 
 the bar. Mr No- Truth, thou art here indicted by the name 
 of No-Truth, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for 
 that thou hast always, to the dishonour of Shaddai, and 
 the endangering of the utter ruin of the famous town of 
 Mansoul, set thyself to deface, and utterly to spoil, aU the 
 remainders of the law and image of Shaddai, that have been 
 found in Mansoul after her deep apostasy from her King to 
 Diabolus, the envious tyrant. What sayest thou, art thou 
 guilty of this indictment, or not ? 
 
 iVo. Not guilty, my lord. 
 
 Then the witnesses were called, and Mr Know- All did first 
 give in his evidence against him. 
 
 Know. My lord, this man was at the pulling down of the 
 image of Shaddai ; yea, this is he that did it with his own 
 hands. I myself stood by and saw him do it, and he did it 
 at the commandment of Diabolus. Yea, this Mr No-Truth 
 did more than this, he did also set up the horned image of 
 the beast Diabolus in the same place. This also is he that, 
 at the bidding of Diabolus, did rent and tear, and cause to 
 be consumed, all that he could of the remainders of the law of 
 the King, even whatever he coiJd lay his hands on in Mansoul 
 
 Clerk. Who saw him do this besides yourself? 
 
 Hate. I did, my lord, and so did many more besides ; for 
 this was not done by stealth, or in a corner, but in the open 
 view of all ; yea, he chose himself to do it publicly, for he 
 delighted in the doing of it. 
 
 Clcrh. Mr No-Truth, how could you have the face to 
 plead not guilty, when yoii were so manifestly the doer of aJ. 
 this -wickedness ? 
 
 No. Sir, I thought I must say something, and as my name 
 is, so I speak : T have been advantaged thereby before now, 
 and did not know but by speaking no truth, I might have 
 reaped the same benefit. 
 
 Cleric. Set him by, gaoler, and set Mr Pitiless to the bar. 
 Mr Pitiless, thou art here indicted by the name of Pitiless, 
 (an intruder ui)on the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst
 
 ■IHE HOLY WAR. 459 
 
 most traitorously and wickedly shut up all bowels of com- 
 passion, and wouldest not suffer poor Mausoul to condole 
 her own misery when she had apostatised from her rightful 
 King, but didst evade, and at all times turn her mind awry 
 from those thoiights that had in them a tendency to lead 
 her to repentance. What sayest thou to this indictment ? 
 Guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 "Not guilty of pitilessness : all I did was to cheer-up, 
 according to my name, for my name is not Pitiless, but 
 Cheer-Up ; and I could not abide to see Mansoul inclined 
 to melancholy." 
 
 Clerh How ! do you deny your name, and say it is not 
 Pitiless, but Cheer-Up ? Call for the witnesses. What say 
 you, the witnesses, to this plea? 
 
 Know. My lord, his name is Pitiless ; so he hath written 
 himseK in all papers of concern wherein he has had to do. 
 But these Diabolonians love to coimterfeit their names : Mr 
 Oovetousness covers himself with the name of Good-Hus- 
 bandry, or the like ; Mr Pride can, when need is, call him- 
 self Mr Neat, Mr Handsome, or the hke ; and so of all the 
 rest of them. 
 
 Clerh. Mr Tell-True, what say you? 
 
 Tell. His name is Pitiless, my lord. I have known him 
 from a child, and he hath done all that wickedness whereof 
 he stands charged in the indictment ; but there is a com- 
 pany of them that are not acquainted with the danger of 
 damning, therefore they caU all those melancholy that have 
 serious thoughts how that state should be shunned by them. 
 
 Clerh. Set Mr Haughty to the bar, gaoler. Mr Haughty, 
 tliou art here indicted by the name of Haughty, (an intruder 
 upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst most 
 traitorously and devilishly teach the town of Mansoul to 
 carry it loftily and stoutly against the summons that was 
 given them by the captains of the King Shaddai. Thou 
 didst also teach the town of Mansoul to speak contemptuously 
 and vilifyingly of their great King Shaddai ; and didst more- 
 over encourage, both by words and examples, Mansoul to
 
 460 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 take up arms both, against the King and his Son Emmanuel, 
 How sayest thou, art thou guilty of this indictment, or not . 
 
 Haughty. Gentlemen, I have always been a man of cour- 
 age and valour, and have not used, when uiider the greatest 
 clouds, to sneak or hang down the head like a bulrush; 
 nor did it at all at any time please me to see men veU 
 their bonnets to those that have opposed them ; yea, though 
 tbeir adversaries seem to have ten times the advantage of 
 them, I did not use to consider who was my foe, nor what 
 the cause was in which I was engaged. It was enough to 
 me if I carried it bravely, fought like a man, and came off a 
 victor. 
 
 Court. Mr Haughty, you are not here indicted for that 
 you have been a valiant man, nor for your courage and 
 stoutness in times of distress, but for that you have made 
 use of this your pretended valour to draw the town of Man- 
 soul into acts of rebellion both agaiast the great King and 
 Emmanuel his Son. This is the crime and the thing where- 
 with thou art charged in and by the indictment. 
 
 But he made no answer to that. 
 
 Now when the Coiu't had thus far proceeded against the 
 prisoners at the bar, then they put them over to the verdict 
 of their jury, to whom they did apply themselves after this 
 manner : — 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury. You have been here, and have 
 seen these men ; you have heard their indictments, their 
 pleas, and what the witnesses have testified against them : 
 now what remains, is, that you do forthwith withdraw yoiu'- 
 selves to some place, where withoiit confusion you may con- 
 sider of what verdict, in a way of truth and righteousness, 
 you ought to bring in for the King against them, and so 
 bring it in accordingly." 
 
 Then the jury, to wit, Mr Belief, Mr True-Heart, Mr 
 Upright, Mr Hate-Bad, Mr Love-God, llr See-Truth, Mr 
 Heavenly-Mind, Mr Moderate, Mr Thankful, Mr Humble, 
 Mr Good-Work, and Mr Zeal-for-God, withdrew themselves 
 in order to their work. Now when they were shut up by
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 461 
 
 themselves, they fell to discourse among themselves in order 
 to the drawing up of their verdict. 
 
 And thus Mr Belief (for he was the foreman) began : 
 "Gentleman," quoth he, " for the men, the prisoners at the 
 bar, for my part I believe that they all deserve death." 
 "Very right," said Mr True-Heart ; " I am wholly of your 
 opinion." " Oh, what a mercy is it," said Mr Hate-Barl, 
 "that such villains as these are apprehended!" "Ay! 
 ay! " said Mr Love-God, "this is one of the joyfullest days 
 that ever I saw in my life." Then said Mr See-Truth, " I 
 know that if we judge them to death, our verdict ehaU stand 
 before Shaddai himself." "Nor do I at all question it," 
 said Mr Heavenly-Mind; he said, moreover, "When all 
 such beasts as these are cast out of Mansoul, what a goodly 
 town win it be then!" Then, said Mr Moderate, "It is 
 not my manner to pass my judgment with rashness ; but for 
 these, their crimes are so notorious, and the wdtness so palp- 
 able, that that man must be wilfully l)lind who saith the 
 prisoners ought not to die." "Blessed be God," said Mr 
 Thankful, " that the traitors are in safe custody ! " "And 
 I join with you in this upon my bare knees," said Mr 
 Humble. "I am glad also," said Mr Good-Work. Then 
 said the warm man, and true-hearted Mr Zeal-for-God, 
 " Cut them off; they have been the plague, and have sought 
 the destruction of Mansoul." 
 
 Thus, therefore, being all agreed in their verdict, tlicy 
 come instantly into the Court. 
 
 Cleric. Gentlemen of the jury, answer aU to your names : 
 Mr Belief, one : Mr True-Heart, two : Mr Upright, three : 
 Mr Hate-Bad, four : Mr Love-God, live : Mr See-Truth, six : 
 Mr Heavenly-Mind, seven : Mr ^Moderate, eight : Mr Thank- 
 ful, nine : Mr Humble, ten : Mr Good-Work, eleven : and 
 Mr Zeal-for-God, twelve. Good men and true, stand to- 
 gether in your verdict : are you all agreed ? 
 
 Jury. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Cleric. Who shall speak for you? 
 
 Jury. Our foreman.
 
 462 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Cleric. Yon, the gentlemen of the jury, being empannelled 
 for our Lord the King, to serve here in a matter of life and 
 death, have heard the trials of each of these men, the prison- 
 ers at the bar: -what say you? are they guilty of that, and 
 those crimes for which they stand here indicted, or are they 
 not guilty? 
 
 Foreman. Guilty, my lord. 
 
 Clerh. Look to your prisoners, gaoler. 
 
 This was done in the morning, and in the afternoon they 
 received the sentence of death according to the law. 
 
 The gaoler, therefore, having received such a charge, put 
 them all in the inward prison, to preserve them there tUI 
 the day of execution, which was to be the next day in the 
 morning. 
 
 But now to see how it happened, one of the prisoners, 
 Incrediility by name, in the interim betwixt the sentence 
 and the time of execution, brake prison, and made his escape, 
 and gets him away quite out of the town of Mansoul, and 
 lay lurking in such places and holes as he might, wniil he 
 should again have opportunity to do the town of Mansoul a 
 mischief for their thus handling him as they did. 
 
 Now when Mr Trueman, the gaoler, perceived that he had 
 lost his prisoner, he was in a hea-v^^^ taking, because that 
 prisoner was, to speak on, the very worst of all the gang : 
 wherefore first he goes and acquaints my Lord Mayor, Mr 
 Recorder, and my Lord WUlbewUl, with the matter, and to 
 get of them an order to make search for him throughout the 
 No Incredulity town of Mansoul. So an order he got, and 
 found in Mansoul. gearch was made, but no such man could 
 now be found in all the town of Mansoul. 
 
 All that could be gathered was, that he had lurked a while 
 about the outside of the town, and that here and there one 
 or other had a glimpse of him as he did make his escape out 
 of Mansoul ; one or two also did affirm that they saw him 
 He is gone to without the town, going apace quite over 
 Diabolus. ^}jg plain. Now when he was quite gone, 
 it was affirmed by one Mr Did-See, that he ranged all over dry 
 
 k
 
 THE HOLY WAB. 463 
 
 places, till he met with Diabolus his friend, and where should 
 they meet one another but just upon Hellgate-hilL 
 
 But, oh, what a lamentable story did the old gentleman 
 tell to Diabolus concerning what sad alteration Emmanuel 
 had made in Mansoul ! 
 
 As, first, how Mansoul had, after some delays, receiA^ed a 
 general pardon at the hands of Emmanuel, and that they had 
 invited him into the town, and that they had given him the 
 castle for his possession. He said, moreover, that they had 
 called his soldiers into the town, coveted who should quarter 
 the most of them ; they also entertained him with the tim- 
 brel, song, and dance. " But that," said Incredulity, "which 
 is the sorest vexation to me is, that he hath pulled down, O 
 father, thy image, and set up his own; pulled down thy 
 officers, and set up his own. Yea, and Willbewil], that rebel, 
 who, one would have thought, should never have turned from 
 us, he is now in as great favour with Emmanuel, as ever he 
 was with thee. But besides all this, this Willbewill has 
 received a special commission from his master to search for, 
 to apprehend, and to put to death all, and all manner of 
 Diabolonians that he shall find in Mansoul: yea, and this 
 Willbewill has taken and committed to prison already eight 
 of my lord's most trusty friends in Mansoul. Nay further, 
 my lord, with grief I speak it, they have been all arraigned, 
 condemned, and, I doubt, before this executed in Mansoul. 
 I told my lord of eight, and myself was the ninth, who should 
 assuredly have drvmk of the same cup, biit that through craft, 
 I, as thou seest, have made mine escape from them." 
 
 When Diabolus had heard this lamentable story, he yelled, 
 and snuffed up the wind like a dragon, and made the sky to 
 look dark with his roaring ; he also sware that he would try 
 to be revenged on Mansoul for this. So they, both he and 
 his old friend Incredulity, concluded to enter into great 
 consultation, how they might get the town of Mansoul 
 again. 
 
 Now, before this time, the day was come j^^ ^5;; 13 
 in which the prisoners in Mansoul were to '''• ^^'^*-
 
 464 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 be executed. So they -vrere brouglit to the cross, and that 
 
 by Mansoiil, in most solemn manner ; for the Prince said that 
 
 his shonld be done by the hand of tlie town of Mansoiil, 
 
 'that I may see," said he, "the forwardness of my now 
 
 redeemed Mansoul to keep my word, and to 
 Gal. V. 24. - , , / ^ 
 
 do my commandments ; and that I may bless 
 
 ^lansoiil in doing this deed. Proof of sincerity pleases me 
 
 well ; let Mansoul therefore first lay their hands upon these 
 
 Diabolonians to destroy them." 
 
 So the town of Mansoul slew them, according to the word 
 of their Prince ; but when the prisoners were brought to the 
 cross to die, you can hardly believe what troublesome work 
 Mansoul had of it to put the DiaA)olonians to death; for the 
 men knowing that they must die, and every of them having 
 implacable enmity in their hearts to Mansoul, what did they 
 but took courage at the cross, and there resisted the men of 
 
 The aesistance of the town of Mansoul? Wherefore the men 
 
 more grace. ^f Mansoul were forced to cry out for help 
 
 to the captains and men of war. Now the great Shaddai had 
 
 a secretary in the town, and he was a great lover of the men 
 
 of Mansoul, and he was at the place of execution also; so he, 
 
 hearing the men of Mansoul cry out against the stnigglings 
 
 and unrvihness of the prisoners, rose up from his place, and 
 
 came and put his hands upon the hands of 
 
 the men of Mansoiil. So they crucified the 
 
 Diabolonians that had been a plague, a grief, and an ofi'ence 
 
 to the town of ilansoul. 
 
 Now, when this good work was done, the Prince came 
 down to see, to \dsit, and to speak comfortably to the men 
 of Mansoul, and to strengthen their hands in such work. 
 And he said to them, that by this act of theirs he had proved 
 them, and found them to be lovers of his person, observers 
 of his laws, and such as had also respect to his honour. He 
 said, moreover, (to shew them that they by this should not 
 be losers, nor their town weakened by the loss of them,) that 
 he would make them another captain, and that of one of 
 themselves. And that this captain should be the ruler of a
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 465 
 
 '/iousand, for the good and benefit of the now floiirisliing 
 iown of Mansoul. 
 
 So he called one to him whose name was Waiting, and bid 
 iim, "Go quickly iip to the castle gate, and inquire there 
 for one Mr Experience, that waiteth upon that noble captain, 
 the Captain Credence, and bid him come hither to me." So 
 '^he messenger that waited iij)on the good Prince Emmanuel, 
 went and said as he was commanded. ISTow the young 
 gentleman was waiting to see the captain train and muster 
 his men in the castle yard. Then said Mr Waiting to him, 
 "Sir, the Prince woidd that yoii should come down to his 
 Highness forthwith." So he brought him down to Em- 
 manuel, and he came and made obeisance before him. Now 
 the men of the town knew JMr Experience well, for he was 
 born and bred in Mansoul ; they also knew him to be a man 
 of conduct, of ■valour, and a person prudent in matters; he 
 was also a comely i)erson, well spoken, and very successful 
 in his undertakings. 
 
 Wherefore the hearts of the townsmen were transported 
 with joy, when they saw that the Prince himself was so taken 
 with ISIr Experience, that he would needs make him a cap- 
 tain over a band of men. 
 
 So with one consent they bowed the knee before Em- 
 manuel, and with a shout said, "Let Emmanuel live for 
 ever!" Then said the Prince to the young gentleman, 
 whose name was Mr Experience, " I have thought good to 
 confer upon thee a place of trust and honour in this my town 
 of Mansoul." Then the yoimg man bowed his head and 
 worshipped. "It is," said Emmanuel, "that thou shouldest 
 be a captain, a captain over a thousand men in my beloved 
 town of Mansoul." Then said the captain, "Let the King 
 live." So the Prince gave out orders forthwith to the King's 
 secretary, that he should draw up for Mr Experience a com- 
 mission to make him a captain over a thousand men; "and 
 let it be brought to me," said he, "that I may set to my 
 seal." So it was done as it was commanded. The commis- 
 sion wa? drawn up, brought to Emmanuel, and he set hig 
 
 2(.;
 
 466 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 seal thereto. Then, by the hand of Mr Waiting, be sent it 
 
 away to the captain, 
 
 Now so soon as the cajptain had received his commission, 
 
 he soundeth his trumpet for volunteers, and young men 
 
 come to him apace; yea, the greatest and chief men in the 
 
 town sent their sons to be listed under his command. Thus 
 
 Captain Experience came under command to Emmanuel, for 
 
 the good of the town of Mansoul. He had for his lieutenant 
 
 one Mr Skilful, and for his cornet one Mr Memory. His 
 
 tmder-ofiicers I need not name. His colours were the white 
 
 coloiirs for the town of Mansoul ; and his scutcheon was the 
 
 dead lion and dead bear. So the Prince 
 1 Sam. XTii. 36, 37. , , , •, . n , 
 
 returned to his royal palace agam. 
 
 Now when he was returned thither, the elders of the town 
 of Mansoul, to wit, the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and the 
 Lord Willbewill, went to congratulate him, and in, special 
 way to thank him for his love, care, and the tender compas- 
 sion which he shewed to his ever obliged town of Mansoid, 
 So after a while, and some sweet communion between them, 
 the townsmen having solemnlj'^ ended their ceremony, re- 
 turned to their place again. 
 
 Emmanuel also at this time ajipointed them a day wherein 
 
 he would renew their charter, yea, wherein he Avould renew 
 
 and enlarge it, mending several faidts therein, that Mansoul's 
 
 Heb. viii. 13. yoke might be yet more easy. And this he 
 
 Matt. XI. 28-30. jj^j without any desire of theirs, even of his 
 own frankness and noble mind. So when he had sent for 
 and seen their old one, he laid it by, and said, "Now that 
 which decayeth and waxeth old is ready to vanish away." 
 He said, moreover, ' ' The town of Mansoul shall have another, 
 a better, a new one, more steady and firm by far." An 
 epitome hereof take as follows : — 
 
 "Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, and a great lover of the 
 town of Mansoul, I do in the name of my Father, and of 
 mine own clemency, give, grant, and bequeath to my beloved 
 town of Mansoul, 
 
 "Fii-st, Free, full, and everlasting forgiveness of all 
 
 *
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 467 
 
 wrongs, injuries, and offences done by them a^irlist my 
 Father, me, their neighbour, or them- Heb.tiii. 12 
 selves. 1 John i, 9. 
 
 " Second, I do give them the holy law and my testament, 
 with all that therein is contained, for their j^^^ ^^y g j^ 
 everlasting comfort and consolation. ^ ^°^- ^"- ^■ 
 
 "Third, I do also give them a portion of the aslf-same 
 grace and goodness that dwells in my 
 Father's heart and mine. 2 Peter i. 4. 
 
 " Fourth, I do give, grant, and bestow upon them freely, 
 the world, and what is therein, for their good; and 
 they shall have that power over them, as 
 shall stand with the honour of my Father, ^ *^°''" '"" ^^' ^^^ 
 my glory, and their comfort : yea, I grant them the benefits 
 of life and death, and of things present, and things to come. 
 This privilege, no other city, town, or corporation, shall 
 have, but my Mausoul only. 
 
 "Fifth, I do give and grant them leave, and free accesa 
 to me in my palace at all seasons — to my jjg^, ^ jg go 
 palace above or below — there to make Matt. vii.'?. 
 known their wants to me; and I give them, moreover, 
 a promise that I will hear and redress all their griev- 
 ances. 
 
 "Sixth, I do give, grant to, and invest the town of Man- 
 soul with full power and authority to seek out, take, enslave, 
 and destroy all, and all manner of Diabolonians that at any 
 time, from whencesoever, shall be found straggling in or 
 about the town of MansouL 
 
 " Seventh, I do further grant to my beloved town of Man- 
 soul, that they shall have authority not to 
 
 ce £ ■ , .-, . Eph. iv. 22. 
 
 sutler any loreignei', or stranger, or their 
 
 seed, to be free in, and of the blessed town " ' " ' ' 
 
 of MansoiU, nor to share in the excellent privileges thereof. 
 
 But that all the grants, privileges, and immunities that I 
 
 bestow upon the famous town of Mansoul, shall be for those 
 
 the old natives, and trae inhabitants thereof; to them, I 
 
 say, and to their right seed after them.
 
 408 fHE HOLY WAR. 
 
 "But all Diabolonians, of -what sort, foirtli, country, or 
 kingdom soever, shall be debarred a share therein." 
 
 So when the town of Mansoul had received at the hand of 
 
 Emmanuel their gracious charter, (which in itself is infinitely 
 
 more large than by this lean epitome is set before you,) they 
 
 „ _ .... carried it to audience, that is, to the mar- 
 2 Cor. lu. 3. ' ' 
 
 Jer. xxxi. 33. ket-place, and there Mr Recorder read it in 
 Heb. viii. 10. _ -^ ' . . , . , . 
 
 the presence of all the peojile. This being 
 done, it was had back to the castle gates, and there fairly 
 engraven upon the doors thereof, and laid in letters of gold, 
 to the end that the town of Mansoul, with all the people 
 thereof, might have it always in their view, or might go 
 where they might see what a blessed freedom their Prince 
 had bestowed upon them, that their joy might be increased 
 in themselves, and theu- love renewed to their great and 
 good Emmanuel. 
 
 But what joy, what comfort, what consolation, think you, 
 did now possess the hearts of the Men of Mansoul ! The 
 bells rung, the minstrels played, the people danced, the cap- 
 tains shouted, the colours waved in the wind, and the silver 
 trumpets sounded ; and the Diabolonians now were glad to 
 hide their heads, for .they looked like them that had been 
 long dead. 
 
 A\Tien this was over, the Prince sent again for the ciders 
 of the town of Mansoul, and communed with them about a 
 ministiy that he intended to establish among them ; such a 
 ministry that might open unto them, and that might instnict 
 them in the things that did concern their present and future 
 state. 
 
 "For," said he, "you, of yourselves, unless you have 
 teachers and guides, wiU not be able to know, and, if not to 
 Jer. X. 23. know, to be sure not to do the will of my 
 1 Cor. ii. 14. Father." 
 
 At this news, when the elders of Mansoul brought it to the 
 
 The common people, the whole town came rimning toge- 
 
 good thoughts, tijgj.^ (foj, j^ pleased them well, as whatever 
 
 the Prince now did pleased the people,) and all with one 
 
 1
 
 Air Eecorder readiug the Cbaiier of Prince Kimuauuel to the people ol
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 469 
 
 consent implored his Majesty, that he would forthwith estab- 
 lish such a ministry among them as might teach them both 
 law and judgment, statute and commandment; that they 
 might be documented in all good and wholesome things. 
 So he told them that he would grant them their requests, 
 and would establish two among them; one that was of his 
 Father's court, and one that was a native of MansouL 
 
 "He that is from the court," said he, " is a person of no 
 less quality and dignity than my Father and I ; and he is the 
 Lord Chief Secretary of my Father's house : 2 Pet. i. 21. 
 for he is, and always has been, the chief \jSmV"i''' 
 dictator of aU my Father's laws, a person ^ '^'^^^^ ^- '• 
 altogether well shQled in all mysteries, and knowledge of 
 mysteries, as is my Father, or as myself is. Indeed, he is one 
 with us in nature, and also as to loving of, and being faithful 
 to, and in the eternal concerns of the town of Mansom. 
 
 " And this is he," said the Prince, "that must be your 
 chief teacher; for it is he, and he only, that can teach you 
 clearly in all high and supernatural things. He, and he 
 only, it is that knows the ways and methods of my Father 
 at court, nor can any hke him shew how the heart of my 
 Father is at all times, in all things, uj)on all occasions to- 
 wards Mansoul ; for as no man knows the things of a man 
 but that spirit of a man which is in him, so the things of my 
 Father knows no man but this his high and mighty Secre- 
 tary. Nor can any, as he, tell Mansoul how and what they 
 shall do to keep themselves in the love of my Father. He 
 also it is that can bring lost tilings to your remembrance, 
 and that can tell you things to come. This 
 
 •' ° Jolin xiv. 26, 
 
 Teacher, therefore, must of necessity have xvi. 13. 
 
 ,, . \ 4.1, • J .■ 1 John u. 27. 
 
 the pre-eminence, both in yoiu* aflections 
 
 and j iidgment, before your other teacher ; his personal dig- 
 nity, the excellency of his teaching, also the great dexterity 
 that he hath to help you to make and draw up petitions to 
 my Father for your help, and to his pleasing, must lay obh- 
 gatious upon you to love him, fear him, and to take heed 
 that you grieve him not.
 
 470 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 "This Person can put life and vigour into all he says; 
 1 Thess. i. 5, 6. yea, and can also put it into yoiir heart. 
 
 Jude 2a" ' ' This Person can make seers of you, and can 
 Kom.^^if 26. make you tell what shall be hereafter. By 
 
 Eph Vv ho^' ^^' ^'"^ *^^^ Person you must frame all your peti- 
 Isaiah liiu. 10. tions to my Father, and me; and "without 
 
 his advice and counsel first obtained, let nothing enter into 
 the town or castle of Mansoul, for that may disgust and 
 grieve this noble Person. 
 
 " Take heed, T say, that you do not grieve this Minister; 
 for if you do, he may fight against you; and should he once 
 be moved by you to set himself against you in battle array, 
 that will distress you more than if twelve legions should 
 from my Father's court be sent to make war upon you. 
 " But, as I said, if you shall hearken unto him, and shall 
 2 Cor. xiii. 14. ^0"^^ him ; if you shall devote yourselves to 
 Rom. V. 5. jjjg teaching, and shall seek to have con- 
 verse, and to maintain communion with him, you shall find 
 him ten times better than is the whole world to any ; yea, 
 he will shed abroad the love of my Father in your hearts, 
 and Mansoul will be the wisest and most blessed of all 
 people." 
 
 Then did the Prince call unto him the old gentleman, who 
 before had been the Recorder of Mansoul, Mr Conscience by 
 name, and told him. That, forasmuch as he was well skilled 
 in the law and government of the town of Mansoul, and was 
 also well spoken, and could pertinently deliver to them his 
 Master's will in all terrene and domestic matters, therefore 
 he would also make him a minister for, in, and to the goodly 
 town of Mansoul, in all the laws, statutes, and judgments of 
 the famous town of Mansoul. "And thou must," said the 
 Prince, "confine thyself to the teaching of moral virtues, to 
 civil and natural duties; but thou must not attempt to pre- 
 sume to be a revealer of those high and supernatural mys- 
 teries that are kept close in the bosom of Shaddai, my 
 Father ; for those things knows no man, nor can any reveal 
 them but my Father's Secretary only.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 471 
 
 " Tliou art a native of the town of Mansoul, but the Lord 
 Secretary is a native with my Father; wherefore, as thou 
 hast knowledge of the laws and customs of the corporation, 
 BO he of the things and will of my Father. 
 
 "Wherefore, O Mr Conscience, although I have made 
 thee a minister and a preacher to the town of Mansoul, yet 
 as to the things which the Lord Secretary knoweth, and 
 shall teach to this people, there thou must be his scholar and 
 a learner, even as the rest of Mansoul are. 
 
 ' ' Thou must therefore, in all high and supernatural things, 
 
 go to him for information and knowledge ; 
 
 ? , T , 1 1 • ■ , • J 1 • Jo'' xxxii. 8. 
 
 for though there be a spirit m man, this 
 
 Person's inspiration must give him understanding. Where- 
 fore, thou Mr Recorder, keep low and be humble, and 
 remember that the Diabolonians that kept not their first 
 charge, but left their own standing, are now made prisoners 
 in the pit. Be therefore content with thy station. 
 
 ' ' I have made thee my Father's vicegerent on earth, in 
 such things of which I have made mention before : and thou, 
 take thou power to teach them to Mansoul, yea, and to im- 
 pose them with whips and chastisements, if they shall not 
 willingly hearken to do thy commandments. 
 
 "And, Mr Recorder, because thou art old, and through 
 many abuses made feeble ; therefore I give thee leave and 
 licence to go when thou wilt to my fountain, my conduit, 
 and there to drink freely of the blood of my ^g^y 
 
 grape, for my conduit doth always run wine. ^^^- ^* ^*" 
 Thus doing, thou shalt drive from thine heart and stomach 
 all foul, gross, and hurtful humours. It will also lighten 
 thine eyes, and will strengthen thy memory for the recep- 
 tion and keeping of all that the King's most noble Secretary 
 teacheth." 
 
 When the Prince had thus put Mr Recorder (that once 
 so was) into the place and office of a minister to ^lansoul, 
 and the man had thankfully accepted thereof; then did Em- 
 manuel address himself in a particular speech to the towns- 
 men themselves.
 
 472 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 "Behold," said the Prince to Mausoul, "my love and 
 care towards you; T have added to all that is past, this 
 mercy, to appoint yon preachers ; the most noble Secretary 
 to teach you in all high and sublime mysteries ; and this 
 gentleman," pointing to Mr Conscience, "is to teach you in 
 all things human and domestic, for therein lieth his work. 
 He is not, by what I have said, debarred of telhng to Man- 
 soul anything that he hath heard and received at the mouth 
 of the lord high Secretary ; only he shall not attempt to pre- 
 sume to pretend to be a revealer of those high mysteries 
 himseK ; for the breaking of them up, and the discovery of 
 them to ]\Iansoul, lieth only in the power, authority, and 
 skill of the loi'd high Secretary himself. Talk of them he 
 may, and so may the rest of the town of Mansoul; yea, and 
 may, as occasion gives them opportunity, press them upon 
 each other for the benefit of the whole. These things, there- 
 fore, I would have you observe and do, for it is for yoiu" life, 
 aud the lengthening of yoiu- days. 
 
 ' ' And one thing more to my beloved Mr Recorder, and to 
 all the town of Mansoul — You must not dwell in, nor stay 
 upon anything of that which he hath in commission to teach 
 you, as to your trust and expectation of the next world; (of 
 the next world I say, for T purpose to give another to Man- 
 soul, when this with them is worn out;) but for that yon 
 must wholly and solely have recourse to, and make stay upon 
 his doctrine that is your Teacher after the first order. Yea, 
 ]Mr Recorder himseK must not look for life from that which 
 he himself revealeth ; his dependence for that must be founded 
 in the doctrine of the other preacher. Let Mr Recorder also 
 take heed that he receive not any doctrine, or point of 
 doctrine, that is not communicated to him by his superior 
 Teacher, nor yet within the precincts of his own formal 
 knowledge." 
 
 Now, after the Prince had thus settled things in the famous 
 town of Mansoul, he proceeded to give to the elders of the 
 corporation a necessary caution, to wit, how they should 
 carry it to the high and noble captains that he had, from hia
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 473 
 
 Fath3i:'s coUi't, sent or brouglit with him, to the famous towTi 
 of Mansoul. 
 
 " These captains," said he, " do love the town of Mansonl, 
 and they are picked men, picked oat of Graces picked from 
 abundance, as men that best suit, and that common Tirtues. 
 will most faithfully serve in the wars of Shaddai against the 
 Diabolonians, for the preservation of the town of Mansoul. 
 I charge you, therefore, " said he, " ye inhabitants of the 
 now flourishing town of Mansoul, that you carry it not rug- 
 gedly or xmtowardly to my captains, or their men ; since, as 
 I said, they are picked and choice men, — men chosen out of 
 many for the good of the town of Mansoul. I say, I charge 
 you, that you carry it not untowardly to them : for though 
 
 they have the hearts and faces of lions, when „ . 
 
 "' Satan cannot 
 
 at any time they shall be called forth to en- weaken our graces, 
 
 . as we ourselves may. 
 
 gage and fight with the King s foes, and the 
 
 enemies of the town of Mansoul ; yet a Httle discountenance 
 cast upon them from the town of Mansoul, will deject and cast 
 down their faces, wiU weaken and take away their courage. 
 Do not, therefore, my beloved, carry it 
 unkindly to my valiant captains and cour- 
 ageous men of war, but love them, nourish them, succour 
 them, and lay them in your bosoms ; and they wiU not only 
 fight for you, but cause to fly from you aU those the Dia- 
 bolonians that seek, and will, if possible, be your utter 
 destruction. 
 
 "If, therefore, any of them should at any time be sick or 
 weak, and so not able to perform that office of love, which, 
 with all their hearts, they are willing to do, (and will do also 
 when well and in health,) slight them not, nor despise them, 
 but rather strengthen them, and encourage neb. xii. 12. 
 them, though weak and ready to die, for ^'itev.^5^2; ^' 
 they are your fence, and your guard, your ^ Thess. v. 14. 
 wall, your gates, your locks, and your bars. And although, 
 when they are weak, they can do but little, but rather need 
 to be helped by you, than that you should then expect great 
 things from them, yet, when ■well, you know what exploits.
 
 474 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 what feats and warlike achievements they are able to do, 
 
 and will perform for you. 
 
 "Besides, if they be weak, the town of Mansoul cannot be 
 strong ; if they be strong, then Mansoul cannot be weak ; 
 your safety, therefore, doth lie in their health, and in your 
 countenancing them. Remember also, that if they be sick 
 they catch that disease of the town of Mansoul itseK. 
 
 "These things I have said unto you, because I love your 
 welfare and your honour : observe, therefore, my Mansoul, 
 to be punctual in all things that I have given in charge unto 
 you, and that not only as a town corporate, and so to your 
 officers and guard, and guides in chief, but to you, as yuu 
 are a people whose well-being, as single persons, depends on 
 the observation of the orders and commandments of their 
 Lord. 
 
 "Next, my ]\Iansoul, I do warn you of that, of which, 
 notwithstanding that reformation that at present is wrought 
 among you, you have need to be warned about : wherefore 
 hearken diligently unto me. I am now sure, and you will 
 know hereafter, that there are yet of the Diabolonians re- 
 maining in the town of Mansoul ; Diabolonians that are 
 sturdy and implacable, and that do already while I am with 
 you, and that will yet more when I am from you, study, 
 plot, contrive, invent, and jointly attempt to bring you to 
 desolation, and so to a state far worse than that of the Egyp- 
 tian bondage ; they are the avowed friends of Diabolus, 
 therefore look aboiit you. They used heretofore to lodge 
 
 with their prince in the castle, when Incre- 
 Mark Tii. 21. 22. \i, t i at r xi • ^ 
 
 dulity was the Lord Mayor of this town ; 
 
 but since my coming hither, they lie more in the outsides, 
 and walls, and have made themselves dens, 
 and caves, and holes, and strong holds there- 
 in. Wherefore, Mansoul ! thy work, as to this, will be 
 so much the more difficult and hard ; that is, to take, mor- 
 tify, and put them to death, according to the wiU of my 
 Father. Nor can you utterly rid yourselves of them, unless 
 you should pull down the walls of yoiu- town, the which
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 475 
 
 I am by no means willing you should. Do you ask me, 
 What shall we do then? Why, be you dili- chrisfc would not 
 gent, and quit you like men; observe their fc^'thfreb^^tJci 
 holds; find out their haunts ; assault them, destroy our sins, 
 and make no peace with them. Wherever they haunt, lurk, 
 or abide, and what terms of peace soever they offer yon, 
 abhor, and all shall be well betwixt you and me. And that 
 you may the better know them from those that are the 
 natives of Mansoul, I will give you this brief schedule of the 
 names of the chief of them; and they are these that follow : — 
 The Lord Fornication, the Lord Adultery, the Lord Murder, 
 the Lord Anger, the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord Deceit, 
 the Lord EvU-Eye, Mr Drunkenness, Mr Revelling, Mr Idol- 
 atry, Mr Witchcraft, Mr Variance, Mr Emulation, LIr 
 Wrath, !Mr Strife, Mr Sedition, and ^Ir Heresy. These are 
 some of the chief, Mansoiil! of those that wUl seek to 
 overthrow thee for ever. These, I say, are the skulkers in 
 Mansoul ; but look thou well into the law of thy King, and 
 there thou shalt find their physiognomy, and such other 
 characteristical notes of them, by which they certainly may 
 be known. 
 
 "These, my Mansoul, (and I would gladly that you 
 should certainly know it,) if they be suffered to run and range 
 about the toAvn as they would, will quickly, like vipers, eat 
 out your bowels ; yea, poison your captains, cut the sinews 
 of your soldiers, break the bars and bolts of your gates, and 
 turn your now most flourishing Mansoul into a barren and 
 desolate wilderness, and ruinous heap. Wherefore, that 
 you may take courage to yourselves to apprehend these 
 villains wherever you find them, I give to you, my Lord 
 Mayor, my Lord WillbewUl, and Mr Recorder, with all the 
 inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, full power and commis- 
 sion to seek out, to take, and to cause to be put to death by 
 the cross, all, and all manner of Diabolonians, when and 
 wherever you shall find them to lurk within, or to range 
 without the walls of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 "I told you before, that I had placed a standing ministry
 
 476 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 among you; not that you have but these with you, for my 
 first four captains who came against the 
 if need be, for Blan- master and lord of the Diabolonians that 
 was in Mansoid, they can, and if need be, 
 and if they be required, will not only privately inform, but 
 publicly preach to the corporation both good and wholesome 
 doctrine, and such as shall lead you in the way. Yea, they 
 will set up a weekly, yea, if need be, a daily lecture in thee, 
 Mansoul ! and will instruct thee in such profitable lessons, 
 that, if heeded, will do thee good at the end. And take 
 good heed that you spare not the men that you have a com- 
 mission to take and crucify. 
 
 ' ' Now, as I have set before your eyes the vagrants and 
 runagates by name, so I will tell you, that among yourselves 
 some of them shall creep in to beguile you, even such as 
 would seem, and that in appearance are, 
 very rife and hot for religion. And they, 
 if you watch not, wiE do you a mischief, such a one as at 
 present you cannot think of. 
 
 " These, as I said, will shew themselves to you in another 
 hue than those under description before. Wherefore, Man- 
 soul, watch and be sober, and suffer not thyself to be 
 betrayed." 
 
 When the Prince had thus far new modelled the town of 
 Mansoul, and had instructed them in such matters as were 
 profitable for them to know, then he appointed another day 
 in which he intended, when the to^vusfolk came together, to 
 bestow a further badge of honour uf)on the town of Mansoul, 
 Another privilege — ^ badge that shoidd distinguish them from 
 for Mansoul. g^^ jt^q people, kindreds, and tongues that 
 dwell in the kingdom of Universe. Now it was not lonsc 
 before the day appointed was come, and the Prince and his 
 people met in the king's palace, where first Emmanual made 
 a short speech unto them, and then did for them as he had 
 said, and unto them as he had promised. 
 
 " My Mansoid," said he, "that which I now am about to 
 do, is to make you known to the world to be mine, and to
 
 THE HOLY WAS. 477 
 
 • 
 
 distingiiisli you also in yoiir own eyes, from all false traitors 
 that may creep iu among you." 
 
 Then he commanded that those that waited upon him 
 should go and bring forth out of his treasury, 
 those white and glistering robes "that I," 
 said he, "have provided and laid up in store for my ]\Ian- 
 soul." So the white garments were fetched 
 
 ItGV xix 8 
 out of his treasury, and laid forth to the 
 
 eyes of the people. Moreover, it was granted to them that 
 
 they should take them and put them on, "according," said 
 
 he, "to your size and stature." So the people were put into 
 
 white, into fine linen, white and clean. 
 
 Then said the Prince unto them, ' ' This, Mansoul, is my 
 livery, and the badge by which mine are known from the 
 servants of others. Yea, it is that which I grant to all that 
 are mine, and without which no man is permitted to see my 
 face. Wear them, therefore, for my sake, who gave them 
 unto you ; and also if you would be known by the world to 
 be mine," 
 
 But now, can you think how Mansoid shone? it was fait 
 as the sun, clear as the moon, and terrible as an aiiny with 
 banners. 
 
 The Prince added further, and said, " No prince, po- 
 tentate, or mighty one of Universe, giveth this livery 
 
 but myself: behold, therefore, as I said ^, ^ ,., ,. 
 
 Tiiafc which dis- 
 
 beiore, you shall be known by it to be tinguisiietii Mansoul 
 
 from other peoulo. 
 mme. 
 
 "And now," said he, "I have given you my livery, let 
 me give you also in commandment concerning them; and be 
 sure that you take good heed to my words. 
 
 " First, Wear them daily, day by day, lest you should at 
 
 i;ome times appear to others as if you were 
 
 o ■ Ecclca. ix. 8. 
 
 none ot mme. 
 
 " Second, Keep them always white; for if they be soiled, 
 it is dishonour to me. Kev. Ui. 2. 
 
 ' ' Thii-d, Wherefore gird them up from the gi-ound, and 
 let them not lag with dust and dirt.
 
 478 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 " Foiirth, Take heed that you lose them not, lest you walk 
 naked, and they see your shame, 
 
 " Fifth, But if you should sully them, if you should defile 
 
 them, the which I am greatly unwilling you should, and the 
 
 prince Diabolus will be elad if you would, 
 
 Lukexxi. 36. , & j j 
 
 then speed you to do that which is written 
 
 in my law, that yet you may stand, and not fall before me, and 
 
 before my throne. Also, this is the way to 
 Eev. vii. 14 17. 4.1, 4. T 4. 1 r , 
 
 cause that 1 may not leave you, nor forsake 
 
 you while here, but may dwell in this toAvn of Mansoul for ever. ' ' 
 And now was Mansoul, and the inhabitants of it, as the 
 The glorious state signet upon Emmanuel's right hand. Where 
 of Mansoul. ^g^g -fchere now a town, a city, a corporation, 
 that could compare with Mansoul! a town redeemed from 
 the hand and from the power of Diabolus ! a town that the 
 King Shaddai loved, and that he sent Emmanuel to regain 
 from the prince of the infernal cave ; yea, a town that 
 Emmanuel loved to dwell in, and that he chose for his royal 
 habitation; a town that he fortified for himself, and made 
 sti'ong by the force of his army. What shall I say? Mansoul 
 has now a most excellent Prince, golden captains and men of 
 war, weapons proved, and garments as white as snow. Nor 
 are these benefits to be counted little, but great; can the 
 town of Mansoul esteem them so, and improve them to that 
 end and purpose for which they are bestowed upon them ? 
 
 When the Prince had thus completed the modelling of the 
 town, to shew that he had great delight in the work of his 
 hands, and took pleasure in the good that he had wrought 
 for the famous and flourishing Mansoul, he commanded, and 
 they set his standard upon the battlements of the castle. 
 And then. 
 
 First, He gave them frequent visits ; not a day now biit 
 
 the elders of Mansoul must come to him, or 
 
 he to them, into his palace. Now they 
 
 must walk and talk together of all the great things that he 
 
 had done, and yet further promised to do for the town of 
 
 IMansoul. Thus would he often do with the Lord Mayor,
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 479 
 
 my Lord Willbewill, and the honest subordinate preacher, 
 ]\Ir Conscience, and Mr Recorder. But oh, understanding. 
 how graciously, how lovingly, how cour- ThewUi. 
 teously, and tenderly did this blessed Prince now carry it 
 towards the town of Mansoid ! In all the streets, gardens, 
 orchards, and other places where he came, to be sure the 
 poor shoiild have his blessing and benedic- Hungry 
 
 tion; yea, he would kiss them, and if they thoughts. 
 were ill, he would lay hands on them, and make them well. 
 The captains, also, he would daily, yea, sometimes hourly, 
 encourage with his presence and goodly words. For you 
 must know that a smile from him upon them woidd put 
 more vigour, more life, and stoutness into them, than woidd 
 anything else under heaven. 
 
 The Prince would now also feast them, and be with them 
 continually : hardly a week would pass, but 
 a banquet must be had betwixt him and 
 them. You may remember that, some pages before, we 
 make mention of one feast that they had together; but now 
 to feast them was a thmg more common : every day with 
 Mansoul was a feast-day now. Nor did he, when they re- 
 turned to their places, send them empty way ; either they 
 must have a ring, a gold chain, a bracelet, ^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^._ 
 a white stone, or somethinc;, so dear was nagc A token of 
 
 lionour. A token of 
 
 Mansoid to him now ; so lovely was Mansoul beauty. A token of 
 
 pardon, 
 in his eyes. 
 
 Second, When the elders and townsmen did not come to 
 him, he would send in much plenty of provision unto them ; 
 meat that came from court, wine and bread that were pre- 
 pared for his Father's table; yea, such delicates would he 
 send unto them, and therewith would so cover their table, 
 that whoever saw it confessed that the like could not be seen 
 m any kingdom. 
 
 Third, If Mansoiil did not frequently visit him as he 
 desired they should, he would walk out to them, knock at 
 their doors, and desire entrance, that amity might be main- 
 tained betwixt them and him ; if they did hear- and open to
 
 480 THE HOLy WAK. 
 
 him, as commonly tliey would, if they were at home, then 
 
 The dapger of would he renew his former love, and con- 
 wandering thoughts, £ ,„ -i. J. -i.! .1 J • 
 
 Eev. iii. 20. Soug of "^^ " *°o With some new tokens and signs 
 ^°^- ^- ^- of continued favour. 
 
 And was it not now amazing to behold, that in that very 
 place where sometimes Diabolus had his abode, and enter- 
 tained his Diabolonians to the almost utter destruction of 
 Mansoul, the Prince of princes should sit eating and drinking- 
 with them, while all his mighty caj^tains, men of war, trum- 
 peters, with the singing-men and singing-women of his 
 Father, stood round about to wait upon them ! Now did 
 Mansoiii's Mansoul's cup rim over, now did her con- 
 glory, duits run sweet wine, now did she eat the 
 finest of the wheat, and drink milk and honey out of the 
 rock. Now she said, How great is his goodness ! for since 
 I found fav^our in his eyes, how honourable have I been ! 
 
 The blessed Prince did also ordain a new officer in the 
 
 „ , town, and a goodly person he was, his 
 
 Col. 111. 15. vj ./ i 
 
 name was Mr God's-Peace: this man was 
 
 set over my Lord WillbewiU, my Lord Mayor, Mr Eecorder, 
 
 the subordinate preacher, Mr Llind, and over all the natives 
 
 of the town of Mansoul, Himself was not a native of it, but 
 
 came with the Prince Emmanuel from the court. He was a 
 
 great acquaintance of Captain Credence and 
 Eom. XV. 13. ^ . ^ ^ 
 
 Captain Good-Hope; some say they were 
 
 kin, and I am of that opinion too. This man, as I said, was 
 made governor of the town in general, especially over the 
 castle, and Captain Credence was to help him there. And I 
 made great observation of it, that so long as all things went 
 in Mansoul as this sweet-natured gentleman would, the town 
 was in most happy condition. Xow there were no jars, no 
 chiding, no iuterferings, no unfaithful doings in aU the town 
 of Mansoul; every man in Mansoul kept close to his own 
 employment. The gentry, the officers, the soldiers, and all 
 Holy conceptions. ^^ place observed their order. And as for 
 Good thoughts.' tiig women and chUdren of the town, they 
 followed their business joyfully; they would work and sing,
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 481 
 
 work and sing, from morning till night: so that c^vate 
 through the town of Mansoul now, nothing was to be found 
 but harmony, quietness, joy, and health. And this lasted 
 all that summer. 
 
 But there was a man in the town of Mansoul, and his 
 name was Mr Carnal-Security; this man did, after all this 
 mercy bestowed on this corporation, bring the town of Man- 
 soul into great and grievous slavery and bondage. A brief 
 account of him and of his doings take as folio vveth: — 
 
 When Diabolus at first took possession of the town of 
 Mansoid, he brought thither, with himself, a great number 
 of Diabolonians, men of his own conditions. Now among 
 these, there was one whose name was Mr Self-Conceit, and a 
 notable brisk man man he was, as any that in those days 
 did possess the town of Mansoul. Diabolus, then, perceiving 
 this man to be active and bold, sent him upon desperate de- 
 signs, the which he managed better, and more to the pleasing 
 of his lord, than most that came with him from the dens 
 could do. Wherefore, finding him so fit for his purpose, he 
 preferred him, and made him next to the great Lord Willbe- 
 wiU, of whom we have written so much before. Now the 
 Lord WillbewiU being in those days very well pleased with 
 him, and with his achievements, gave him his daiighter, the 
 Lady Fear-Nothing, to vtdfe. Now, of my Lady Fear- 
 Nothing, did this Mr Self-Conceit beget this gentleman, Mr 
 Carnal-Security. Wherefore there being then in Mansoid 
 those strange kinds of mixtures, it was hard for them, in some 
 cases, to find out who were natives, who not ; for Mr Carnal- 
 Security sprang from my Lord WiUbewiU by mother's side, 
 though he had for his father a Diabolonian by nature. 
 
 Well, this Carnal-Security took much after his father and 
 mother; he was self-conceited, he feared nothing, he was 
 also a very busy man; nothing of news, nothing of doctrine, 
 nothing of alteration, or talk of alteration, coidd at any time 
 be on foot in Mansoid, but be sure Mr Carnal-Security would 
 be at the head or tail of it : but, to be sure, he would decline 
 those that he deemed the weakest, and stood always with 
 
 2u
 
 482 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 them, in his way of standing, that he supposed was the 
 strongest side. 
 
 Now, when Shaddai the mighty, and Emmamiel his Son, 
 made war upon Manson], to take it, this Mr Carnal-Security 
 was then in town, and was a great doer among the people, 
 encouraging them in their rebellion, putting them upon 
 hardening themselves in their resisting the King's forces; 
 but when he saw that the town of Mansoul was taken, and 
 converted to the use of the glorious Prince Emmanuel; aiid 
 when he also saw what was become of Diabolus, and how he 
 vras unroosted, and made to qiiit the castle in the greatest 
 contempt and scorn ; and that the town of Mansoul was well 
 lined with captains, engines of war, and men, and also pro- 
 \'ision; what doth he but slyly wheel about also; and as he 
 had served Diabolus against the good Prince, so he feigned 
 that he would serve the Prince against his foes. 
 
 And having got some little smattering of Emmanuel's 
 
 things by the end, being bold, he ventures himself into the 
 
 companj' of the townsmen, and attempts also to chat among 
 
 them. Now he knew that the power and strength of the 
 
 _ ,r „ , town of Mansoul was great, and that it 
 How Mr Carnal- *= ' 
 
 Security begins the could not but be pleasing to the people, if 
 misery of Mansoul. . , • • i /^ t .^ ■ \ 
 
 he cried up tlieir might and their glorj'. 
 
 Wherefore he beginneth his tale with the power and strength 
 of Mansoul, and affirmed that it was impregnable ; now mag- 
 nifying their captains, and their slings, and their rams ; then 
 crying up their fortifications and strongholds ; and, lastly, the 
 assurances that they had from their Prince, that jNIansoul should 
 be happy for ever. But when he saw that some of the men of 
 the town were tickled and taken with his discourse, he makes 
 it his business, and walking from street to street, house to 
 house, and man to man, he at last brought Mansoul to dance 
 after his pipe, and to grow almost as carnally secure as him- 
 self ; so from talking they went to feasting, and from feasting 
 to sporting; and so to some other matters. Now Emmanuel 
 was yet in the town of Mansoul, and he wisely observed their 
 doings. My Lord Mayor, my Lord Willbewill, and Mr Re- 
 
 I
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 483 
 
 corder, were also all taken with the words of this tattling 
 Diabolonian gentleman; forgetting that their Prince had 
 given them warning before to take heed that they were not 
 beguiled with any Diabolonian sleight ; he had further told 
 them, that the security of the now flourishing town of Man- 
 soul did not so much lie in her present for- 
 
 '■ . It IS not grace re- 
 
 tifications and force, as in her so using of ceived, but grace im- 
 
 1 proved,, that pre- 
 
 what she had, as might oblige her Emmanuel serves the soul from 
 to abide within her castle. For the right ^"'P"'^^ angers. 
 doctrine of Emmanuel was, that the town of Mansoul should 
 take heed that they forgot not his Father's love and his; 
 also, that they should so demean themselves as to continue 
 to keep themselves therein. Now this was not the way to 
 do it, namely, to fall in love with one of the Diabolonians, 
 and with such an one too as Mr Carnal-Security was, and to 
 be led up and down by the nose by him : they should have 
 heard their Prince, feared their Prince, loved their Prince, 
 and have stoned this naughty pack to death, and took care 
 to have walked in the ways of their Prince's prescribing ; for 
 then should their peace have been as a river, when theii 
 righteousness had been like the waves of the sea. 
 
 Now when Emmanuel perceived that through the policy of 
 Mr Carnal-Security, the hearts of the men of Mansoul were 
 chiUed and abated in their practical love to him, 
 
 First, He bemoans them, and condoles their state with 
 the Secretary, saying, " Oh that my people had hearkened 
 unto me, and that ]\Iansoul had walked in my ways! I 
 would have fed them with the finest of the wheat ; and with 
 honey out of the rock would I have sustained them." This 
 done, he said in his heart, " I will return to the court, and 
 ao to my place, till Mansoul shall consider and acknowledge 
 their offence." And he did so, and the cause and manner of 
 his going away from them was, that Mansoul declined him, 
 as is manifest in these particulars. 
 
 " 1. They left off their former way of Aasiting him, 
 
 they came not to his royal palace as The way of Man- 
 • soul's backsliding-, 
 
 afore.
 
 484 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 " 2. They did not regard, nor yet take notice, that he 
 came or came not to A'isit them. 
 
 " 3. The love-feasts that had wont to be between their 
 Prince and them, though he made them still, and called 
 them to them, yet they neglected to come to them, or to be 
 delighted with them. 
 
 "4. They waited not for his coimsels, but began to be 
 headstrong and confident in themselves, concluding that now 
 they were strong and invincible, and that Mansoul was secure, 
 and beyond all reach of the foe, and that her state must needs 
 be unalterable for ever." 
 
 Now, as was said, Emmanuel perceiving that, by the craft 
 
 of Mr Carnal-Security, the town of Mansoid was taken off 
 
 from their dependence upon him, and upon his Father by 
 
 liim, and set upon what by them was bestowed upon it; he 
 
 first, as I said, bemoaned their state, then he used means to 
 
 make them understand that the way that they went on in 
 
 was dangerous : for he sent my Lord High Secretary to them, 
 
 to forbid them such ways ; but twice, when he came to them, 
 
 he found them at dinner in Mr Carnal-Security's parloiu-; 
 
 and perceiving also that they were not wiUing to reason 
 
 about matters concerning their good, he took 
 They gneve the ^ T • i t 
 
 Holy Ghost and grief and went his way ; the which when he 
 
 had told to the Prince Emmanuel, he took 
 offence, and was grieved also, and so made provision to 
 return to his Father's court. 
 
 Now, the methods of his withdrawing, as I was saying 
 before, were thus : — 
 
 " 1. Even while he was yet with them in Mansoul, he 
 Christ withdraws kept himself close, and more retired than 
 not aU at once. formerly. 
 
 ' ' 2. His speecb was not now, if he came in their company, 
 so pleasant and familiar as formerly. 
 
 " 3. Nor did he, as in times past, send to Mansoul, from 
 his table, those dainty bits which he ^vas wont to do. 
 
 ' ' 4. Nor when they came to visit him, as now and then 
 they would, would he be so easily spoken with as they found
 
 THE HOLY V/AE. 485 
 
 liIiD to bo iu times past. They miglit now knock once, yea, 
 twice, but he would seem not at all to re- xhe working of 
 gard them; whereas formerly at the sound their affections. 
 of their feet he would up and run, and meet them half-way, 
 and take them too, and lay them in his bosom." 
 
 But thus Emmanuel carried it now, and by this his car- 
 riage he sought to make them bethink themselves, and return 
 to him. But, alas ! they did not consider, they did not know 
 his ways, they regarded not, they were not touched with 
 these, nor with the true remembrance of former favours. 
 Wherefore what does he but in private man- ^^^^ ^. ^j 
 
 ner withdraw himself, first from his palace, , Hosea y is 
 
 ■^ Lev. XXVI. 21-24. 
 
 then to the gate of the town, and so away 
 
 from Mansoul he goes, till they should acknowledge their 
 offence, and more earnestly seek his face. 
 Mr God's-Peace also laid down his com- 
 mission, and would for the present act no longer in the town 
 of Mansoid. 
 
 Thus they walked contrary to him, and he again, by way 
 of retaliation, walked contrary to them. But, alas ! by this 
 time they were so hardened in their way, and had so drunk 
 in the doctrine of Mr Carnal-Security, that 
 the departing of their Prince touched them 
 not, nor was he remembered by them when gone j and so, of 
 consequence, his absence not condoled by them. 
 
 Now, there was a day wherein this old gentleman, Mr 
 Carnal-Security, did again make a feast for the town of Man- 
 soid ; and there was at that time in the town . , . , 
 
 ' A triclc put upon 
 
 one Mr Godly-Fear, one now but little set Mr Godiy-Fear: ho 
 
 . , , goes to the feast. 
 
 by, though formerly one oi great request, and sits there like a 
 This man old Carnal-Security had a mind, ^ "^^ser. 
 if possible, to gull, and debauch, and abuse, as he did the 
 rest, and therefore he now bids him to the feast with his 
 neighbours. So the day being come, they prepare, and he 
 goes and appears with the rest of the guests ; and being all 
 set at the table, they did eat and drink, and were merry, 
 even all but this one man: for Mr Godly-Fear sat like a
 
 486 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 stranger, and did neither eat, nor was meriy. The which, 
 Avhen Mr Carnal-Security perceived, he presently addressed 
 himself in a speech thus to him :— 
 
 " Mr Godly -Fear, are you not well? you seem to be iU of 
 body or mind, or both. I have a cordial of JVIr Forget-Good's 
 making, the which, sir, if you will take a dram of, I hope it 
 may make you bonny and blithe, and so make yoii more lit 
 for us, feasting companions." 
 
 Unto whom the good old gentleman discreetly replied, 
 "Sir, I thank you for all things courteous and civil; but for 
 yoiir cordial I have no list thereto. But a word to the 
 natives of Mansoul : You, the elders and chief of Mansoul, 
 to me it is strange to see you so jocund and meriy, when the 
 town of Mansoid is in such woeful case." 
 
 Then said Mr Carnal-Security, "You want sleep, good 
 sii', I doubt. If you please, lie down, and take a nap, and 
 we meanwhile will be merry." 
 
 Then said the good man as follows: — "Sir, if you were 
 not destitute of an honest heart, you could not do as you 
 have done, and do," 
 
 Then said ]!klr Carnal-Security, " Why ?" 
 
 Godly. jSTay, pray interrupt me not. It is true, the town 
 of Mansoul was strong, and with a proviso, impregnable ; 
 but you, the townsmen, have weakened it, and it now lies 
 obnoxious to its foes ; nor is it a time to Hatter, or be silent ; 
 it is you, ;Mr Carnal-Security, that have wUHy stripped Man- 
 soid, and di-iven her glory from her ; you have pidled down 
 her towers, you have broken down her gates, you have 
 spoiled her locks and bars. 
 
 And now, to explain mj^self : from that time that my 
 lords of Mansoul and you, sir, grew so great, from that time 
 the Strength of Mansoul has been oflended, and now he is 
 arisen and is gone. If any shall question the truth of my 
 words, I will answer him by this, and such Hke questions, 
 "Where is the Prince Emmanuel? When did a man or 
 woman in Mansoul see him ? When did you hear from him, 
 or taste any of his dainty bits ? " - You are now a-feasting
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 487 
 
 ■ft-itli this Diabolouian monster, but he is not youi- Prince, 
 I say, therefore, though enemies from without, had you 
 taken heed, coxild not have made a prey of you, yet, since 
 you have sinned against your Prince, your enemies within 
 have been too hard for you. 
 
 Then said Mr Carnal-Security, "Fie! fie! Mr Godly- 
 Fear, fie ! will you never shake off your timorousness ? Axe 
 you afraid of being sparrow-blasted? Who hath hurt you? 
 Behold, I am on yoiu- side ; only you are for doubting, and 
 I am for being confident. Besides, is this a time to be sad 
 in. ? A feast is made for mii-th ; why, then, do you now, to 
 your shame, and our trouble, break out into such passionate 
 melancholy language, when you shoidd eat and driulc and 
 be merry ?" 
 
 Then said Mr Godly-Fear again, " I may well be sad, for 
 Emmanuel is gone from Mansoul. I say again, he is gone, 
 and you, sir, are the man that has di-iven him away ; yea, 
 he is gone without so much as acquainting the nobles of 
 Mansoul with his going : and if that is not a sign of his 
 anger, I am not acquainted with the methods of godli- 
 ness. 
 
 "And now, my lords and gentlemen, for my speech is 
 still to you, your gradual decliuiug from him did provoke 
 him gradually to depart from you, the which he did for some 
 time, if perhaps you would have been made sensible there- 
 by, and have been renewed by humbling yourselves; but 
 when he saw that none would regard, nor lay these fearful 
 beginnings of his anger and judgment to heart, he went 
 away from this place ; and this I saw with mine eyes. 
 Wherefore now, while you boast, your strength is gone; 
 you are like the man that had lost his locks that before did 
 wave about his shoulders. You may, with this lord of your 
 feast, shake yourselves, and conclude to do as at other 
 times ; but since without him you can do nothing, and he is 
 departed from you, turn your feast into a sigh, and your 
 mirth into lamentation." 
 
 Then the subordinate preacher, old Mr Conscience by
 
 488 THi: HOLY WAE. 
 
 name, he that of old was Recorder of Mausoxil, being startled 
 at what was said, began to second it thus : — 
 
 "Indeed, my brethren," quoth he, "I fear that Mr 
 Godly -Fear teUs us true : I, for my part, have not seen my 
 Prince a long season. I cannot remember the day, for my 
 part ; nor can I answer Mr Godly-Fear's qiiestion. I doubt, 
 I am afraid that all is naught with Mansoid." 
 
 Godly. Nay, I know that you shall not find him in Man- 
 soul, for he is departed and gone ; yea, and gone for the 
 faiilts of the elders, and for that they rewarded his grace 
 with unsufferable imkiadnesses. 
 
 Then did the subordinate preacher look as if he would fall 
 They are all do'wn dead at the table ; also all there pre- 
 aghast. sent, except the man of the house, began to 
 
 look pale and wan. But having a little recovered them- 
 selves, and jointly agreeing to believe Mr Godly-Fear, and 
 his sayings, they began to consult what was best to be done, 
 (now Mr Carual-Secuiity was gone into his withdrawing- 
 room, for he liked not such dumpish doings,) both to the 
 man of the house, for drawing them into evil, and also to 
 recover Emmanuel's love. 
 
 And, with that, that saying of their Prince came very hot 
 into their minds, which he had bidden them do to such as 
 were false prophets that should arise to delude the town of 
 Mansoul. So they took Mr Carnal-Security (concluding 
 that he must be he) and burned his house upon him with 
 fu-e ; for he also was a Diabolonian by nature. 
 
 So when this was past and over, they bespeed themselves 
 to look for Emmanuel their Prince; and 
 they sought him, but they found him not. 
 Then were they more confirmed in the truth of !Mr Godly- 
 Fear's sayings, and began also severely to reflect upon them- 
 selves for their so vUe and ungodly doings ; for they con- 
 cluded now that it was through them that their Prince bad 
 left them. 
 
 Then they agreed and w^ent to my Lord Secretary, (him 
 whom before they refused to hear — ^him whom they had
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 489 
 
 grieved witli their doings,) to know of liim, for lie was a seer, 
 
 and could tell wliere Emmanuel was, and ^, , ,, 
 
 They apply tnem- 
 
 liow thev might direct a ijetition to him. selves to the Holy 
 "' ° '■ . Ghost, but he is 
 
 But the Lord Secretary would not admit grieved, &c. 
 them to a conference about this matter, nor "kph. iv. 30. 
 would admit them to his royal place of 
 abode, nor come out to them to shew them his face or intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 And now was it a day gloomy and dark, a day of clouds 
 and of thick darkness with Mansoul. Now they saw that 
 they had been foolish, and began to perceive what the com- 
 pany and prattle of JVIr Carnal-Security had done, and what 
 desperate damage his swaggering words had brought poor 
 Mansoul into. But what further it was likely to cost them, 
 that they were ignorant of. Now Mr Godly-Fear began 
 again to be in repiiie with the men of the town ; yea, they 
 were ready to look upon him as a prophet. 
 
 "Well, when the Sabbath-day was come, they went to hear 
 
 their subordinate preacher; but oh, how a thundering 
 
 he did thunder and lighten this day ! His sermon. 
 
 text was that in the prophet Jonah, "They that observe 
 
 Ivins vanities forsake their own mercy." 
 •' ° , T I J Joncahii. 8. 
 
 But there was then such power and autlio- 
 
 rity in that sermon, and such a dejection seen in the coun- 
 tenances of the people that day, that the like hath seldom 
 been heard or seen. The people, when sermon was done, 
 were scarce able to go to their homes, or to 
 betake themselves to their employs the week 
 after ; they were so sermon-smitten, and also so sermon-sick 
 by being smitten, that they knew not what to do. 
 
 He did not only shew to Mansoul their sin, but did trem- 
 ble before them, under the sense of his own, stUl crymg out 
 of himself, as he preached to them, "Un- The subordinate 
 happy man that I am ! that I should do so K-i^fge ht Vit," 
 wicked a thing ! That I, a preacher, whom i^r.lJnSth »&: 
 the Prince did set up to teach to Mansoul "al-Sccurity. 
 his law, shoidd myself live senseless and sottishly here, and
 
 490 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 be one of the first found in transgression ! Tliis transgressior 
 
 also fell within my precincts : I should have cried out against 
 
 the wickness ; but I let Mansoul lie wallowing in it, until it 
 
 ^ , had driven Emmanuel from its borders ! " 
 
 Psahn Ixxxvui. ,,^-,1 n ,-, ■ ■, ■, ■, •, ,, , 
 
 With these things he also charged all the 
 
 lords and gentry of Mansoid, to the almost distracting of 
 
 them. 
 
 About this time, also, there was a great sickness in the 
 town of Mansoul, and most of the inhabitants were greatly 
 afflicted. Yea, the captains, also, and men of war were 
 brought thereby to a languishing condition, and that for a 
 long time together ; so that in case of an invasion, nothing 
 could to purpose now have been done, either 
 Re^'iii. 2. ' ^Y ^^^ townsmen, or field-officers. Oh, 
 
 Sin'doth"'av^e to ^^o^^ ^^^Y M^ ^^ces, weak hands, feeble 
 
 audsout'an°d graces^ knees, and staggering men were now seen 
 
 to walk the streets of Mansoul ! Here were 
 
 groans, there pants, and yonder lay those that were ready 
 
 to faint. 
 
 The garments, too, which Emmanuel had given them were 
 but in a sorry case ; some were rent, some were torn, and all 
 in a nasty condition ; some also did hang so loosely upon 
 them, that the next bush they came at was ready to pluck 
 them off. 
 
 After some tune spent in this sad and desolate condition, 
 the subordinate preacher called for a day of fasting, and to 
 humble themselves for being so wicked against the great 
 Shaddai and his Sou. And he desired that Captain Boaner- 
 ges would preach. So he consented to do it ; and the day 
 being come, his text was this, "Cut it down, why cumbereth 
 it the ground?" And a very smart sermon he made uj^ou 
 the place. First, he shewed what was the occasion of the 
 words, namely, because the fig-tree was barren; then he 
 shewed what was contained in the sentence, namely, repen- 
 tance, or utter desolation. He then shewed, also, by whose 
 authority this sentence was pronounced, and that was by 
 Shaddai himseK. ^nd, lastly, he shewed the reasons of tha 
 
 I
 
 THE HOLY AVAR. 491 
 
 point, and then concluded hia sermon. But lie Avas very 
 pertinent in the application, insomuch that he made poor 
 Mansoul tremble. For this sermon, as well as the former, 
 wrought much upon the hearts of the men of Mansoul ; yea, 
 it greatly helped to keep awake those that were roused by 
 the preaching that went before. So that now, throughout 
 the whole town, there was little or nothing to be heard or 
 seen but sorrow, and mourning, and woe. 
 
 Now, after sermon, they got together and consulted what 
 was best to be done. "But," said the subordinate preacher, 
 "I will do nothing of mine own head, without advising with 
 my neighbom* Mr Godly-Fear. For if he had afore, and 
 understood more of the mind of our Prince than we, I do not 
 knoAV but he also may have it now, even now we are turning 
 again to virtue." 
 
 So they called and sent for Mr Godly-Fear, and he forth- 
 with appeared. Then they desired that he would further 
 shew his opmion about what they had best to do. Then 
 said the old gentleman as foUoweth : — "It is my opinion that 
 this town of Mansoul should, in this day of her distress, 
 draw up and send an humble petition to their offended 
 Prince Emmanuel, that he in his favour and grace will timi 
 again unto you, and not keep anger for ever." 
 
 When the townsmen had heard this speech, thej^ did, with 
 one consent, agree to his advice ; so they did presently draw 
 up their request, and the next was. But who shall carry it? 
 At last they did all agree to send it by my Lord Mayor. So 
 he accepted of the service, and addi'essed himself to his 
 joiu'ney; and went and came to the court of Shaddai, whither 
 Emmanuel the Prince of Mansoul was gone. 
 But the gate was shut, and a strict watch 
 kept thereat; so that the petitioner was forced to stand 
 without for a great while together. Then he desired that 
 some would go in to the Prince and tell him who stood at 
 the gate, and what his business was. So one went and told 
 to Shaddai, and to Emmanuel his Son, that the Lord Mayor 
 of the town of Mansoul stood without at the gate of the
 
 492 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Iviug's court, desiring to be admitted into tlie presence of tlia 
 
 Pi'ince, tlae King's Son. He also told wliat was the Lord 
 
 Mayor's errand, both to the King and his Son Emmanuel. 
 
 But the Prince woidd not come down, nor admit that the 
 
 gate should be opened to him, but sent him an answer to this 
 
 effect : " They have turned their back unto 
 
 me, and not their face; but now in the time 
 
 of their trouble they say to me. Arise, and save us. But can 
 
 they not now go to Mr Carnal-Security, to whom they went 
 
 when they turned from me, and make him their leader, 
 
 A dreadful their lord, and their protection now in their 
 
 answer. trouble ; why now in their trouble do they 
 
 visit me, since in their prosperity they went astray?" 
 
 The answer made my Lord Mayor look black in the face; 
 
 it troubled, it perplexed, it rent him sore. 
 Lam. iv. 7, 8. . , u v ■ \ i, 4. -4. 
 
 And now he began agam to see what it was 
 
 to be familial- with Diabolonians, such as Mr Carnal-Security 
 
 was. When he saw that at court, as yet, there was little help 
 
 to be expected, either for himself or friends in Mansoul, he 
 
 smote upon his breast, and returned weeping, and all the way 
 
 bewailing the lamentable state of Mansoul. 
 
 Well, when he was come within sight of the town, the 
 elders and chief of the people of Mansoul went out at the 
 gate to meet him, and to salute him, and to know how he 
 sped at court. But he told them his tale in so doleful a 
 manner, that they aU cried out, and mourned, and wept. 
 Wherefore they threw ashes and dust upon their heads, and 
 put sackcloth upon their loins, and went crying out through 
 the to-wn of Mansoid ; the which, when the rest of the towns- 
 foHc saw, they all mourned and wept. This, therefore, was 
 a day of rebuke and trouble and of anguish to the town of 
 Mansoid, and also of great disti'ess. 
 
 After some time, when they had somewhat refrained them- 
 selves, they came together to consult again what by them was 
 yet to be done ; and they asked advice, as they did before, of 
 that reverend Mr Godly -Fear, who told them that there was 
 no way better than to do as they had done, nor woidd he that
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 493 
 
 they shouU be discouraged at all with that they had met 
 
 ■with at court ; yea, though several of their petitions should 
 
 be answered with naught but silence or rebuke : "For," said 
 
 he, "it is the way of the wise Shaddai to make men wait 
 
 and to exercise patience, and it should be the way of them in 
 
 want to be willing to stay his leisure." 
 
 Then they took courage, and sent again, and again, and 
 
 again, and again; for there was not now one gee now what is 
 
 day, nor an hour, that went over Mansoul's gUding^'Eat^t^a^wak- 
 
 head, wherein a man might not have met ^"®^- 
 
 upon the road one or other riding post, soimding the horn 
 
 from Mansoul to the court of the King 
 
 , . Groaning desires. 
 
 Shaddai ; and all with letters petitionary 
 
 in behalf of, and for the Prince's return to Mansoul. The 
 
 road, I say, was now full of messengers, going and returning, 
 
 and meeting one another; some from the court, and some 
 
 from Mansoul : and this was the work of the miserable town 
 
 of Mansoul, aU that long, that sharp, that cold and tedious 
 
 winter. 
 
 Now if you have nofc forgot, you may yet remember that 
 I told you before, that after Emmanuel had taken Mansoul, 
 yea, and after that he had new-modelled the town,, there 
 remained in several lurking places of the corporation many 
 of the old Diabolonians, that either came with the tyrant 
 when he invaded and took the towTi, or that had there, by 
 reason of unlawful mixtures, their bii'th, and breeding, and 
 bringing up. And their holes, dens, and lurking places were 
 in, under, or about the wall of the town. Some of their 
 names are the Lord Fornication, the Lord Adultery, the Lord 
 Murder, the Lord Anger, the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord 
 Deceit, the Lord Evil-Eye, the Lord Blasphemy, and that 
 horrible villain, the old and dangerous Lord Covetousness. 
 These, as I told you, with many more, had yet their abode 
 in the town of Mansoul, and that after Emmanuel had di'iven 
 their prince Diabolus out of the castle. 
 
 Against these the good Prince did grant a commission to 
 the Lord Willbewill and others, yea, to the whole town of
 
 494 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Mansoiil, to seek, take, secure, and destroy any or all that 
 they coiild lay hands of, for that they were Diabolonians by 
 nature, enemies to the Prince, and those that songht to ruin 
 the blessed town of Mansoul. But the town of Mansoul did 
 not pursue this warrant, but neglected to look after, to appre- 
 hend, to sectire, and to destroy these Diabolonians. Where- 
 fore what do these vUlains but by degrees take courage to 
 put forth their heads, and to shew themselves to the inhabit- 
 ants of the town. Yea, and as I was told, some of the men 
 of Mansoul grew too familiar with some of them, to the 
 sorrow of the corporation, as jou yet will hear more of in 
 time and place. 
 
 Well, when the Diabolonian lords that were left, perceived 
 that Mansoul had, through sinning, offended Emmanuel their 
 Prince, and that he had withdrawn himself and was gone, 
 what do they biit plot the ruin of the town of ]Mansoul. So 
 upon a time they met together at the hold of one Mr ISIischief, 
 who was also a Diabolonian, and there consulted how they 
 might deliver up Mansoul into the hands of Diabolus again. 
 ITow some advised one way, and some another, every man 
 according to his own liking. At last my Lord Lasciviousness 
 propounded, whether it might not be best, in the first place, 
 for some of those that were Diabolonians in Mansoul to ad- 
 ventirre to offer themselves for servants to some of the natives 
 of the town; "for," said he, "if they so do, and Mansoul 
 shall accept of them, they may for us, and for Diabolus otu* 
 lord, make the taking of the town of Mansoul more easy 
 than otherwise it will be." But then stood up the Lord 
 Murder, and said, ' ' This may not be done at this time ; for 
 ]Mansoul is now in a kind of a rage, because by our friend 
 IVIr Carnal-Security she hath been once insnared already, 
 and made to offend against her Prince ; and how shall she 
 reconcile herself unto her Lord again, but by the heads of 
 these men ? Besides, we know that they have in commission 
 to take and slay txs wherever they shall find us ; let ns thei-e- 
 fore be wise as foxes : when we are dead, we can do them 
 no hurt; but while we live, we may." Thiis, when they had
 
 THE HOLY ■WAR. 495 
 
 tossed the matter to and fro, they jointly agreed that a 
 letter should forthwith be sent away to Dia- They send to hell 
 bolus in their name, by which the state of ^""^ advice, 
 the town of Mansoul should be shewed him, and how much 
 it is under the frowns of their Prince. " We may also," said 
 some, "let him know our intentions, and ask of him his ad- 
 vice in the case." 
 
 So a letter was presently framed, the contents of which 
 were these : — ■ 
 
 "To our great lord, the Prince Diabolus, dwelling below 
 in the infernal cave : — 
 
 " gi-eat father, and mighty Prince Diabolus, w^e, the 
 true Diabolonians yet remaining in the rebellious town of 
 Mansoul, having received our beings from thee, and our 
 nourishment at thy hands, cannot with content and quiet 
 endure to behold, as we do this day, how thou art dispraised, 
 disgraced, and reproached among the inhabitants of this 
 town ; nor is thy long absence at all delightful to us, because 
 greatly to our detriment. 
 
 ' ' The reason of this our writing imto our lord is, for that 
 we are not altogether without hope that this town may be- 
 come thy habitation again ; for it is greatly declined from 
 its Prince Emmanuel ; and he is uprisen, and is departed 
 from them : yea, and though they send, and send, and send, 
 and send after him to return to them, yet can they not pre- 
 vail, nor get good words from him. 
 
 " There has been also of late, and is yet remaining, a very 
 great sickness and faintings among them ; and that not only 
 upon the poorer sort of the town, but upon the lords, cap- 
 tains, and chief gentry of the place, (we only who are of the 
 Diabolonians by nature remain well, lively, and strong,) so 
 that through their great transgression on the one hand, and 
 their dangerous sickness on the other, we judge they lie open 
 to thy hand and power. If, therefore, it shall stand with thy 
 horrible cunning, and with the cunning of the rest of the 
 princes with thee, to come and make an attempt to take 
 Mansoul again, send us word, and we shall to our utmost
 
 496 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 power be ready to deliver it into tliy hand. Or if what we 
 have said shall not by thy fatherhood be thought best and 
 most meet to be done, send us thy mind in a few words, and 
 we are all ready to follow thy counsel to the hazarding of 
 our lives, and what else we have. 
 
 ' ' Given imder our hands the day and date above-written, 
 after a close consultation at the house of Mr ^lischief, 
 who yet is alive, and hath his place in our desirable 
 town of Mansoul." 
 
 When Mr Profane (for he was the carrier) was come with 
 his letter to Hell-Gate Hill, he knocked at the brazen gates 
 for entrance. Then did Cerberus, the porter, for he is the 
 keeper of that gate, open to !Mr Profane, to whom he de- 
 livered his letter, which he had brought from the Diabolonians 
 in Mansoid. So he carried it in, and presented it to Diabolus 
 his lord, and said, "Tidings, my lord, from Mansoul, from 
 our trusty friends in ^Mansoul." 
 
 Then came together from all places of the den, Beelzebub, 
 Lucifer, Apollyon, with the rest of the rabblement there, 
 to hear what news from Mansoul. So the letter was broken 
 up and read, and Cerberus he stood by. When the letter 
 was openly read, and the contents thereof spread into aU the 
 corners of the den, command was given that, v.-ithout let or 
 stop, dead-man's bell should be rung for joy. So the beU 
 was rung, and the priaces rejoiced that MansoiJ was likely 
 to come to ruin. Now, the clapper of the bell went, ' ' The 
 town of Mansoul is coming to dwell with us ; make room 
 for the town of Mansoul. " This bell therefore they did ring, 
 because they did hope that they should have Mansoul again. 
 
 Now, when they had performed this their horrible cere- 
 mony, they got together again to consult what answer to 
 send to their friends in Mansoul ; and some advised one 
 thing, and some another : but at length, because the business 
 required haste, they left the whole business to the Prince 
 Diabolus, judging him the most proper lord of the place. So 
 he drew up a letter as he thought fit, in answer to what Mr 
 Profane had brought, and sent it to the Diabolonians that
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 497 
 
 did dwell in Mansoxil, by the same liaud that had brought 
 theirs to him ; and these were the contents thereof : — 
 " To our offspring, the high and mighty Diabolonians that 
 yet dwell in the town of Mansoid, Diabolus, the great 
 prince of Mansoul, wisheth a prosperous issue and con- 
 clusion of those many brave enterprises, conspiracies, 
 and designs that you, of your love and respect to our 
 honour, have in your hearts to attempt to do against 
 Mansovd. 
 "Beloved children and disciples, my Lord Fornication, 
 Adultery, and the rest, we have here, in our desolate den, 
 received, to our highest joy and content, your welcome 
 letter, by the hand of our trusty Mr Profane ; and to shew 
 how acceptable your tidings were, we rang out our bell for 
 gladness; for we rejoiced as much as we could, when we 
 perceived that yet we had friends in Mansoul, and such as 
 sought our honour and revenge in the ruin of the town 
 of Mansoid. We also rejoiced to hear that they are in a 
 degenerated condition, and that they have offended their 
 Prince, and that he is gone. Their sickness also pleaseth 
 us, as does also your health, might, and strength. Glad 
 also woidd we be, right horribly beloved, coul'* we get this 
 town into om* clutches again. Nor wUl we )j^ sparing of 
 spending our wit, om' cunning, our craft, and hellish inven- 
 tions to bring to a wished conclusion this your brave begin- 
 ning in order thereto. 
 
 ' ' And take this for your comfort, (our birth and oiir off- 
 spring,) that shall we again surprise it and take it, we will 
 attempt to put all your foes to the sword, and will make you 
 the great lords and captains of the place. Nor need you fear, 
 if ever we get it again, that we after that shall be cast out any 
 more ; for we wiU come with more strength, and so lay far 
 more fast hold than at the first Ave did. Besides, it is 
 the law of that Prince that now they own, that if we 
 get them a second time, they shall be ours ^^^^ ^„ ^^^ 
 for ever. 
 
 "Do you, therefore, our trusty Diabolonians, yet more 
 
 2l
 
 498 THE HOLY TVAE. 
 
 pry into, and endeavoui- to spy out the weakness of the town 
 of Mansoul. We also -would that you yourselves do attempt 
 to weaken them more and more. Send us word also by 
 what means you think we had best to attempt the regaining 
 thereof : namely, whether by persuasion to a vain and loose 
 life; or, whether by tempting them to doubt and despair; 
 or, whether by blowing up of the town by the gunjjowder 
 of pride and self-conceit. Do you, also, ye brave Diabo- 
 lonians, and true sons of the pit, be always in a readiness to 
 make a most hideous assault within, when we shall be ready 
 to storm it without. Now speed you in your project, and 
 we in our desii-es, to the utmost power of oiu* gates, which is 
 the wish of your great Diabolus, Mansoul's enemy, and him 
 that trembles when he thinks of judgment to come. All 
 the blessings of the pit be upon you, and so we close up our 
 letter. 
 
 "Given at the pit's mouth, by the joint consent of aU the 
 
 princes of darkness, to be sent, to the force and power 
 
 that we have yet remaining in Mansoul, by the hand 
 
 of Mr Profane, by me, Diabolus. " 
 
 This letter, as was said, was sent to Mansoul to the Dia- 
 
 ^ , bolonians that yet remained there, and that 
 
 Slesh. . 
 
 yet inhabited the wall, from the dark dun- 
 geon of Diabolus, by the hand of Mr Profane, by whom they 
 also in Mansoul sent theirs to the pit. Now, when this Mr 
 Profane had made his return, and was come to Mansoul 
 again, he went and came as he was wont to the house of ]\Ii' 
 Mischief, for there was the conclave, and the place where the 
 contrivers were met. Now, when they saw that their 
 messenger was returned safe and sound, they were greatly 
 gladded thereat. Then he presented them with hia letter 
 which he had brought fiom Diabolus for them; the which, 
 when they had read and considered, did much augment their 
 gladness. They asked him after the welfare of their friends, 
 as how their Lord Diabolus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub did, with 
 tho rest of those of the den. To which this Profane made 
 answer, "Well, well, my lords; they are well, even as well
 
 THE HOLY WAE, 499 
 
 as cau be in tteir place. They also," said lie, "did ring for 
 Joy at tlie reading of yoiu' letter, as you well perceived by 
 this when yon read it." 
 
 Now, as was said, when they had read their letter, and 
 perceived that it encouraged them iu their work, they fell to 
 their way of contriving again, namely, how they might com- 
 plete the Diabolonian design upon Mansoul. And the first 
 thiag that they agreed upon was to keep aU things from 
 Mansoul as close as they could. " Let it not be known, let 
 not Mansoul be acquainted with what we design against it." 
 The next thipg was, how, or by what means, they should 
 try to bring to pass the ruin and overthrow of Mansoul ; and 
 one said after this manner, and another said after that. 
 Then stood iip Mr Deceit, and said, "My right Diabolonian 
 friends, our lords, and the high ones of the deep dungeon, 
 do propound unto us these three ways : — 
 
 "1. Whether we had best to seek its ruin by making 
 Mansoul loose and vain. 
 
 "2. Or whether by driving them to doubt and despair. 
 
 "3. Or whether by endeavouring to blow them up 
 
 by the gunpowder of pride and self-con- Take heed 
 Qgj^; Mansoul ! 
 
 "Now I think, if we shall tempt them to pride, that may 
 do something; and if we tempt them to wantonness, that 
 may help. But, in my mind, if we could drive them into 
 desperation, that woidd knock the nail on the head; for 
 then we should have them, in the first place, qiiestion the 
 truth of the love of the heart of their Prince toAvards them, 
 and that will disgust him mi;ch. This, if it works weU, will 
 make them leave off quickly their way of sending petitions 
 to him; then farewell eai-nest solicitations for help and 
 supply ; for then this conclusion lies natiu-ally before them, 
 'As good do nothing, as do to no purpose.' " So to Mr 
 Deceit they unanimously did consent. 
 
 Then the next question was, But how shall we do to bring 
 this our project to pass? and it was an- Take heed 
 swered by the same gentleman, — that thia Manaoull
 
 600 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 miglit be the best way to do it : "Even let," quoth lie, " so 
 many of oiir friends as are willing to venture themselves for 
 the promoting of their prince's cause, disguise themselves 
 with ajiparel, change their names, and go into the market 
 like far country-men, and proffer to let themselves for ser- 
 vants to the famous town of Mansoul, and let them pretend 
 to do for theii' masters as beneficially as may be ; for by so 
 doing they may, if Mansoid shall hire them, in little time so 
 corrupt and defile the corporation, that her now Pi-ince shall 
 be not only fiurtlier offended with them, but in conclusion 
 shall spue them out of his mouth. And when this is done, 
 our prince Diabolus shall prey upon them with ease : yea, of 
 
 Take heed themselves they shall fall into the mouth of 
 
 Mausouil' ti^e eater." 
 
 This project was no sooner propounded, but was as highly 
 accej)ted, and forward were all Diabolonians now to engage 
 in so delicate an enterprise : but it was not thought fit that 
 all should do thus; wherefore they pitched xipon two or 
 three, namely, the Lord Covetousness, the Lord Lascivious- 
 ness, and the Lord Anger. The Lord Covetousness called 
 himself by the name of Prudent-Thrifty; the Lord Lasci\dous- 
 uess called himself by the name of Harmless-Mirth; and the 
 Take heed, Lord Anger called himself by the name of 
 Mansoul i' Good-Zeal. 
 
 So upon a market-day they came into the market-place, 
 three lusty fellows they were to look on, and they were 
 clothed in sheep's-russet, which was also now in a manner as 
 white as were the white robes of the men of Mansoul. Now 
 Take heed, *^^ va.en could speak the language of Man- 
 Mansoull gQ^j \vell. So when they were come into 
 the market-place, and had offered to let themselves to the 
 townsmen, they were presently taken up ; for they asked 
 but little wages, and promised to do their masters great 
 Eervice. 
 
 Mr Mind hired Prudent-Thrifty, and Mr Godly-Fear hired 
 Good-Zeai. True, this fellow Harmless -Mirth did hang a 
 little in hand, and could not so soon get him a master as tho
 
 THE HOLT WAE, 501 
 
 others did, because tlie town of Mansoiil was now in Lent; 
 biit after a while, because Lent was almost otit, the Lord 
 Willbewill hired Harmless-jNIirth to be both his waiting man 
 and his lacquey: and thus they got them Take heed 
 masters. ' Mansoulf 
 
 These villains now being got thus far into the houses of 
 the men of Mansoul, quickly began to do great mischief 
 therein; for being filthy, arch, and sly, they quickly cor- 
 rupted the families where they were ; yea, they tainted their 
 masters much, especially this Prudent-Thrifty, and him they 
 call Harmless-Mirth. True, he that went imder the visor of 
 Good-Zeal, was not so well liked of his master; for he 
 quickly foimd that he was but a counterfeit rascal; the 
 which when the fellow perceived, with speed he made his 
 escape from the house, or I doubt not but his master had 
 hanged him. 
 
 Well, when these vagabonds had thus far carried on their 
 design, and had corrupted the town as much as they 
 could, in the next place they considered with themselves at 
 what time their prince Diabolus without, and themselves 
 within the town, should make an attempt to seize upon Man- 
 soul ; and they aE agreed upon this, that a market-day would 
 be best for that work; for why? then wUl a day of worldly 
 the townsfolk be busy in their ways ; and cumber. 
 
 always take this for a rule, When people are most busy in 
 the world, they least fear a surprise. " We also then," said 
 they, "shall be able with less suspicion to gather ourselves 
 together for the work of our friends and lords; yea, and in 
 such a day, if we shall attempt our work, Tate heed 
 and miss it, we may, when they shall give MansoiU! 
 us the rout, the better hide ourselves in the crowd, and 
 escape." 
 
 These things being thus far agreed upon by them, they 
 wi'ote another letter to Diabolus, and sent it by the hand of 
 Mr Profane, the contents of which were these : — 
 
 "The lords of Looseness send to the great and high Dia- 
 bolus from our dens, caves, holes, and strong holds, in
 
 502 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Look to it, 
 Mansoul. 
 
 and about tlie wall of the town of Man* 
 soiU, greeting : 
 *' Onr great lord, and the noiirisher of onr lives, Dlabolus, 
 — how glad we were when we heard of your fatherhood's 
 readiness to comply with us, and help forward our design in 
 Eom. vii. 21. our attempts to ruin Mansoul, none can 
 Gal. V. 17. ^g^ iju^^ those who, as we do, set them- 
 selves against all appearance of good, when and wheresoever 
 we find it. 
 
 "Touching the encouragement that your greatness is 
 pleased to give us to continue to devise, contrive, and study 
 the utter desolation of Mansoul, that we are not solicitous 
 about ; for we know right well that it cannot but be pleas- 
 ing and profitable to us to see our enemies, and them that 
 seek oxu' lives, die at our feet, or fly before us. We there- 
 fore are stiU contriving, and that to the best of our cunning, 
 to make this work most facile and easy to your lordships, 
 and to us. 
 
 "First, we considered of that most hellishly cunning, com- 
 
 Looktoit, pacted, threefold project, that by you was 
 
 Mansoul: propounded to us in your last; and have 
 
 concluded, that though to blow them ujd with the gimpowder 
 
 of pride would do well, and to do it by temjiting them to be 
 
 loose and vain will help on, yet to contrive to bring them into 
 
 the gulf of desperation, we think will do best of all. Now we, 
 
 who are at your beck, have thought of two Avays to do this : 
 
 first, we, for our parts, will make them as vile as we can, 
 
 and then you with us, at a time appointed, shall be ready to 
 
 fall ui)on them with the utmost force. And of all the nations 
 
 that are at your whistle, we think that an army of doubters 
 
 may be the most likely to attack and overcome the town of 
 
 Take heed, Mansoul. Thus shall we overcome these ene- 
 
 Mansoull mies, else the pit shall open her mouth upon 
 
 them, and desperation shall thrust them down into it. We 
 
 have also, to effect this so much by us desired design, sent 
 
 already three of our trusty Diabolonians among them ; they 
 
 are disguised in garb, they have changed their names, and
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 503 
 
 are now accepted of tliem; namely, Covetousness, Lascivious- 
 uess, and Anger. The name of Covetousness is changed to 
 PiTident-Thrifty, and him ]Mr Mind has hired, and is almost 
 become as bad as our friend. Lasciviousness has changed his 
 name to Harmless-Mii-th, and he is got to be the Lord WiH- 
 bewUl's lacquey ; but he has made his master very wanton. 
 Anger changed his name into Good-Zeal, and was entertained 
 by Mr Godly -Fear; but the peevish old gentleman took 
 pepper in the nose, and turned our companion out of his 
 house. Nay, he has informed us since that he ran away 
 from him, or else his old master had hanged him up for his 
 labovir. 
 
 " Now these have much helped forward our work and 
 design upon Mansoul; for notwithstanding look to it, 
 the spite and quarrelsome temper of the old Mansoul I 
 gentleman last mentioned, the other two ply their busines.'J 
 well, and are likely to ripen the work apace. 
 
 " Our next project is, that it be concluded that you come 
 upon the town upon a market-day, and that Avhen they are 
 upon the heat of their business; for then, to be sure, they 
 will be most secixre, and least think that an jake heed, 
 assault will be made upon them. They wiU Mansoul i 
 also at such a time be less able to defend themselves, and to 
 offend you in the prosecution of owe design. And we yom* 
 trusty (and we are sure your beloved) ones shall, when you 
 shall make youi- furious assault without, be ready to second 
 the business within. So shall we, in all likelihood, be able 
 to put Mansoul to utter confusion, and to swallow them up 
 before they can come to themselves. If your serpentine 
 heads, most subtle dragons, and our highlj^-esteemed lords, 
 can find out a better way than this, let us quickly know your 
 minds. 
 
 " To the monsters of the internal cave, from the house of 
 
 Mr Mischief in Mansoul, by the hand of Mr Profane." 
 
 Now all the while that the raging runagates and hellish 
 
 Diaboloniaus were thus contriving the niin of the town of 
 
 Mansoul, they (namely, the poor town itseK) were in a sad
 
 504 THE HOLY WAK, 
 
 aaid woeful case; partly because they had so grievously 
 offended Shaddai and his Son, and partly because that the 
 enemies thereby got strength within them afresh ; and also 
 because, though they had by many petitions made suit to the 
 Prince Emmanuel, and to his Father Shaddai by him, for 
 their pardon and favour, yet hitherto obtained they not one 
 smile; but contrariwise, through the craft and subtlety of 
 the domestic Diabolonians, their cloud was made to grow 
 blacker and blacker, and their Emmanuel to stand at further 
 distance. 
 
 The sickness also did still greatly rage in Mansoul, both 
 among the captains and the inhabitants of the town; and 
 their enemies only were now lively and strong, and Hkely to 
 become the head, whilst Mansoul was made the tail. 
 
 By this time the letter last mentioned, that was written 
 by the Diabolonians that yet lurked in the town of Mansoul, 
 was conveyed to Diabolus in the black den, by the hand of 
 Mr Profane. He carried the letter by HeU-Gate Hill as afore, 
 and conveyed it by Cerberus to his lord. 
 
 But when Cerberus and Mr Profane did meet, they were 
 presently as great as beggars, and thus they fell into dis- 
 course about Mansoul, and about the project against her. 
 
 "Ah! old friend," quoth Cerberus, "art thou come to 
 HeU-Gate Hill again ! By St Mary, I am glad to see thee ! " 
 
 Prof. Yes, my lord, I am come again about the concerns 
 of the town of Mansoid. 
 
 Cerh. Prithee, tell me what condition is that town of Man- 
 soul in at present ? 
 
 Prof. In a brave condition, my lord, for us, and for my 
 lords, the lords of this place, I trow; for they are greatly 
 decayed as to godliness, and that is as well as our heart can 
 wish ; their Lord is greatly out with them, and that doth 
 also jJease us well. "We have already also a foot in their 
 dish, for our Diabolonian friends are laid in their bosoms, 
 and what do we lack but to be masters of the place ! Be- 
 sides, our trusty friends in Mansoul are daily plotting to 
 betray it to the lords of this town; also the sickness rages
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 505 
 
 bitterly among them ; and that which makes up all, we hope 
 at last to prevail. 
 
 Then said the dog of Hell-Gate, "No time like this to 
 assault them. I wish that the enterprise be followed close, 
 and that the success desired may be soon effected: yea, I 
 wish it for the poor Diabolonians' sakes that live in the con- 
 tinual fear of their lives in that traitorous town of Mansoul." 
 
 Prof. The contrivance is almost finished, the lords in Man- 
 soul that are Diabolonians are at it day and night, and the 
 other are like silly doves, they want heart to be concerned 
 with their state, and to consider that ruin is at hand. Be- 
 sides, you may, yea, must think, when you put all things 
 together, that there are many reasons that prevail with Dia- 
 bolus to make what haste he can. 
 
 Cerh. Thou hast said as it is ; I am glad things are at this 
 pass. Go in, my brave Profane, to my lords, they will give 
 thee for thy welcome as good a coranto,* as the whole of 
 this kingdom will afford. I have sent thy letter in already. 
 
 Then Mr Profane went into the den, and his lord Diabolus 
 met him, and saluted him with, "Welcome, my trusty ser- 
 vant : I have been made glad with thy letter." The rest of 
 the lords of the pit gave him also their salutations. Then 
 Profane, after obeisance made to them all, said, " Let Man- 
 soul be given to my lord Diabolus, and let him be her king 
 for ever." And with that, the hollow belly and yawning 
 gorge of hell gave so loud and hideous a groan, (for that is 
 the miisic of that place,) that it made the mountains about 
 it totter, as if they would fall in pieces. 
 
 Now, after they had read and considered the letter, they 
 consulted what answer to return ; and the first that did speak 
 to it was Lucifer. 
 
 Then said he, "The first project of the Diabolonians in 
 Mansoul ia lilcely to be lucky, and to take ; namely, that 
 they will, by all the ways and means they can, make !Man- 
 Boul yet more vile and filthy : no way to destroy a soul like 
 this. Our old friend Balaam went this way and prospered 
 * A lively, sprightly dance.
 
 506 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 many years ago ; let this therefore stand with us for a maxim, 
 
 Numb. ixxi. 16. ^^^ b^ to Diabolonians for a general rule 
 
 Rev. 11. 14. ^ g^u g^ggg . ^^^ nothlHg can make this to 
 
 fail but grace, in which I would hope that this town has no 
 share. But whether to fall upon them on a market-day, be- 
 
 Cumberments are cause of their cumber in business, that I 
 dangerous. .^^.^^^ should be under debate. And there 
 is more reason why this head should be debated, than why 
 some other should ; because upon this will turn the whole of 
 what we shall attempt. If we time not our business well, 
 our whole project may fail. Our friends, the Diabolonians, 
 say that a market-day is best; for then will Mansoul be 
 most busy, and have fewest thoughts of a surprise. But 
 what if also they should double their guards on those days ? 
 They had need i^^^ methinks nature and reason should 
 '^°''- teach them to do it;) and what if they 
 
 should keep such a watch on those days as the necessity of 
 their present case doth require? yea, what if their men 
 shoidd be always in arms on those days? then you may, 
 ray lords, be disappointed in your attempts, and may bring 
 our friends in the town to utter danger of unavoidable 
 ruin. " 
 
 Then said the great Beelzebub, "There is something in 
 what my lord hath said ; but his conjecture may, or may not 
 fall out. Nor hath my lord laid it down as that which must 
 not be receded from ; for I know that he said it only to pro- 
 voke to a warm debate thereabout. Therefore we must 
 understand, if we can, whether the town of Mansovd has 
 such sense and knowledge of her decayed state, and of the 
 A lesson for design that we have on foot against her, as 
 Christians. ^j^^j^ provoke her to set watch and ward at 
 her gates, and to double them on market-days. But if, 
 after inquiry made, it shall be found that they are asleep, 
 then any day will do, but a market-day is best ; and this Tj 
 my judgment in this case," 
 
 Then quoth Diabolus, "How should we know this? " and 
 it was answered, "Inquire about it at the mouth of Mr Pro-
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 507 
 
 fane." So Profane was called in, and asked the question, 
 and lie made his answer as follows : — 
 
 Prof. My lords, so far as I can gather, this is at present 
 the condition of the town of Mansoul : they are decayed in 
 their faith and love ; Emmanuel, their Prince, has given 
 them the back ; they send often by petition to fetch him 
 again, but he maketh not haste to answer their request, nor 
 is there much reformation among them. 
 
 Diah. I am glad that they are backward in a reformation, 
 but yet I am afraid of their petitioning. However, their 
 looseness of life is a sign that there is not much heart in 
 what they do, and without the heart things are little worth. 
 But go on, my masters; I will divert you, my lords, no 
 longer. 
 
 Bed. If the case be so with Mansoul, as Mr Profane has 
 described it to be, it will be no great matter what day we 
 assault it ; not their prayers, nor their power will do them 
 much service. 
 
 When Beelzebub had ended his oration, then Apollj''on did 
 begin. " My opinion, " said he, "concern- Dreadful advice 
 ingthis matter is, that we go on fair and against Mansoul. 
 softly, not doing things in a hurry. Let our friends in Man- 
 soiU go on still to pollute and defile it, by seeking to draw it 
 yet more into sin, (for there is nothing like sin to devour 
 Mansoul. ) If this be done, and it takes effect, Mansoul, of 
 itself will leave off to watch, to petition, or anjiihing else 
 that should tend to her security and safety ; for she Avill for- 
 get her Emmanuel, she will not desire his company ; and can 
 she be gotten thus to live, her Prince will not come to her in 
 haste. Our trusty friend, Mr Carnal-Security, with one of 
 his tricks did drive him out of the town ; and why may not 
 my Lord Covetousness, and my Lord Lasciviousness, by 
 M-hat they may do, keep him out of the town ? And this I 
 will tell yoTi, (not because you know it not,) that two or 
 three Diabolonians, if entertained and countenanced by the 
 town of Mansoul, will do more to the keeping of Emmanuel 
 from them, and towards making the to"wn of Mansoul your
 
 508 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 OWE, than can an army of a legion that should be sent out 
 from us to withstand him. Let, therefore, this first project 
 that our friends in Mansoul have set on foot, be strongly and 
 Dreadful advice dUigently carried on with all cunning and 
 against Mansoul. ^p^^f^; imaginable ; and let them send continu- 
 ally, under one guise or another, more and other of their 
 men to play with the people of Mansoul ; and then, perhaps, 
 we shall not need to be at the charge of making a war upon 
 them ; or if that must of necessity be done, yet the more 
 sinfid they are, the more unable, to be sure, they will be to 
 resist us, and then the more easily wc shall overcome them. 
 And besides, suppose (and that is the worst that can be sup- 
 posed) that Emmanuel should come to them again, why may 
 not the same means, or the like, drive him from them once 
 more? Yea, why may he not, by their lapse into that sin 
 again, be driven from them for ever, for the sake of which 
 he was at the first driven from them for a season ? And if 
 this should happen, then away go with him his rams, his 
 slings, his captains, his soldiers, and he leaveth Mansoul 
 naked and bare. Yea, will not this town, when she sees 
 herself utterly forsaken of her Prince, of her own accord 
 Dreadful advice open her gates again unto you, and make of 
 against Mansoul. y^^ ^s in the days of old ? But this must be 
 done by time, a few days will not effect so great a work as this." 
 So soon as ApoUyon had made an end of speaking, Diabolus 
 began to blow out his own malice, and to plead his own cause ; 
 and he said, "My lords, and powers of the cave, my true 
 and trusty friends, I have with much impatience, as becomes 
 me, given ear to your long and tedious orations. But my 
 furioiis gorge, and empty paunch, so lusteth after a reposses- 
 sion of my famous town of Mansoid, that whatever comes 
 out, I can wait no longer to see the events of lingering pro:^ 
 jects. I must, and that without further delay, seek, by all 
 Look to it, means I can, to fiU my insatiable gulf with 
 Mansoul r ^^le soid and body of the town of ]\Iansoid. 
 Therefore lend me your heads, your hearts, and your help, 
 now I am going to recover my town of Mansoul, "
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 509 
 
 When tlie lords and princes of the pit saw the flaming 
 desire that was in Diabolus to devour the miserable town of 
 Mansoul, they left off to raise any more objections, but con- 
 sented to lend him what strength they could : though had 
 Apollyon's advice been taken, they had far more fearfully 
 distressed the town of Mansoul. But, I say, they were willing 
 to lend him what strength they could, not knowing what need 
 they might have of him, when they should engage for them- 
 selves, as he. Wherefore they fell to advising about the next 
 thing propounded, namely, what soldiers they were, and also 
 how many, with whom Diabolus should go against the town 
 of Mansoul to take it; and after some debate, it was con- 
 cluded, according as in the letter the Diabolonians had sug- 
 gested, that none were more fit for that expedition than an 
 army of terrible doubters. They therefore concluded to send 
 against Mansoul an army of sturdy doubters. The number 
 thought fit to be employed iu that service was between 
 twenty and thirty thousand. So then the residt of that great 
 council of those high and mighty lords was — That Diabolus 
 should even now, out of hand, beat uj} his drum for men in 
 the land of Doubting, which land lieth upon the confines of 
 the place called HeU-Gate Hdl, for men that might be 
 employed by him against the miserable town of Mansoiil. 
 It was also concluded, that these lords themselves shoidd 
 help him in the war, and that they would to that end head 
 and manage his men. So they di'ew up a letter, and sent 
 back to the Diabolonians that lurked in Mansoul, and that 
 waited for the backcoming of Mr Profane, to signify to thom 
 into what method and forwardness they at present had put 
 their design. The contents whereof noAV follow : — 
 
 ' ' From the dark and horrible dungeon of heU, Diabolus, 
 with aU the society of the princes of darkness, sends 
 to oui- trusty ones, in and about the walls of the town 
 of Mansoul, now impatiently waiting for o^ir most 
 devilish answer to their venomous and most poisonous 
 design against the town of Mansoul, 
 " Our native ones, in whom from day to day we boaat,
 
 510 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 and in whose actions all the year long we do greatly delight 
 ourselves, — we received your welcome, because highly 
 esteemed letter, at the hand of our trusty and greatly 
 beloved, the old gentleman, Mr Profane. And do give you 
 to understand, that when we had broken it up, and had read 
 the contents thereof, to yom- amazing memory be it spoken, 
 our yawning hollow-bellied place, where we are, made so 
 hideous and yelling a noise for joy, that the moimtains that 
 stand round about Hell-Gate Hill, had like to have been 
 shaken to pieces at the sound thereof. 
 
 "We could also do no less than admire your faithfulness 
 to us, with the greatness of that subtilty that now hath 
 shewed itself to be in your heads to serve us against the 
 town of Mansoiil. For you have invented for us so excellent 
 a method for our proceeding against that rebellious people, 
 a more effectual cannot be thought of by all the wits of hell. 
 The proposals, therefore, which now, at last, you have sent 
 us, since we saw them, we have done little else but highly 
 approved and admired them. 
 
 "Nay, we shall, to encourage you in the profundity of 
 your craft, let you know, that, at a full assembly and con- 
 clave of our princes and principalities of this place, your 
 project was discoursed and tossed from one side of our cave 
 to the other by their mightinesses ; but a better, and as was 
 by themselves judged, a more fit and proper way by all their 
 wits could not be invented to surprise, take, and make our 
 own, the rebellious town of Mansoul. 
 
 " Wherefore, in fine, all that was said that varied from 
 what you had in your letter propoimded, fell of itself to the 
 groimd, and yours only was stuck to by Diabolus, the prince ; 
 yea, his gaping gorge and yawning paunch was on fire to put 
 yoiu" invention into execution. 
 
 ' ' We therefore give you to understand that our stout, 
 furious, and unmerciful Diabolus, is raising, for your relief, 
 and the Jriiin of the rebellious town of Mansoul, more than 
 twenty thousand doubters to come against that people. They 
 are all stout and sturdy men, and men that of old have been
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 61 1 
 
 acciiatomed to war, and that cau therefore well eudiire the 
 drum. I say, he is doing this work of his with all the pos- 
 sible speed he can ; for his heart and spirit is engaged in it. 
 We desire, therefore, that, as you have hitherto stuck to us, 
 and given us both advice and encouragement thus far, you 
 still will prosecute our design; nor shall you lose, but be 
 gainers thereby; yea, we intend to make yoii the lords of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 ' ' One thing may not by any means be omitted, that in, 
 those with us do desire that every one of you that are in 
 Mansoid would still use all your power, cunning, and skill, 
 with delusive persuasions, yet to draw the town of Mansoul 
 into more sin and wickedness, even that sin may be finished 
 and bring forth death. 
 
 "For thus it is concluded with us, that the more vile, 
 sinful, and debauched the town of Mansoul is, the more 
 backward will be their Emmanuel to come to their help, 
 either by presence, or other relief ; yea, the more sinful, the 
 more weak, and so the more unable will they be to make 
 resistance when we shall make our assault upon them to 
 swallow them up. Yea, that may cause that their mighty 
 Shaddai himself may cast them out of his j^^q i^eed, 
 protection; yea, and send for his captains Mansoul I 
 and soldiers home, with his slings and rams, and leave them 
 naked and bare; and then the town of Mansoul will, of 
 itself, open to us, and fall as the fig into the mouth of the 
 eater. Yea, to be sure that we then with a great deal of 
 ease shall come upon her and overcome her. 
 
 "As to the time of our coming upon Mansoul, we, as yet, 
 
 have not fully resolved upon that, though at present some of 
 
 us think as you, that a market-day, or a market-day at night, 
 
 will certainly be the best. However, do you be ready, and 
 
 when you shall hear our roaring drum with- 
 
 2 Peter v 8 
 out, do you be as busy to make the most 
 
 horrible confusion within. So shall Mansoul certainly be 
 
 distressed before and behind, and shall not know which way 
 
 ♦■•o betake herself for help. My Lord Lucifer, my Lord Beel-
 
 512 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 zebub, my Lord ApoUyon, my Lord Legion, with tbe rest 
 salute you, as does also my Lord Diabolus ; and we wish 
 both you, with all that you do, or shall possess, the very 
 self-same fruit and success for their doing, as we ourselves at 
 present enjoy for ours. 
 
 "From OUT droadful confines in the most fearful pit, we 
 salute you, and so do those many, legions here with us, 
 wishing yoii may be as hellishly prosperous as we desire 
 to be ourselves. By the letter-carrier, Mr Profane." 
 
 Then Mr Profane addressed himself for his retirrn to Man- 
 soul, with his errand from the horrible pit to the Diabolonians 
 that dwelt in that town. So he came up the stairs from the 
 deep to the mouth of the cave where Cerberus was. Now 
 when Cerberus saw him, he asked how matters did go below, 
 about and against the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Prof. Things go as well as we can expect. The letter that 
 I carried thither was highly approved, and well liked by all 
 my lords, and I am returning to tell our Diabolonians so. I 
 have an answer to it here in my bosom, that I am sure wUl 
 make our masters that sent me glad ; for the contents thereof 
 are to encourage them to pursue their design to the iitmost, 
 and to be ready also to fall on within, when they shall see 
 my Lord Diabolus beleaguering the town of Mansoid. 
 
 Ccrh. But does he intend to go agaiast them himself ? 
 
 Prof. Does he! Ay! and he mU take along with him 
 more than twenty thousand, all sturdy doubters, and men of 
 war, picked men, from the land of Doubting, to serve him in 
 the expedition. 
 
 Then was Cerberus glad, and said, "And is there such 
 brave preparations a-makiug to go against the miserable 
 town of Mansoul? And would I might be put at the head 
 of a thousand of them, that I might also shew my valour 
 against the famous town of Mansoul." 
 
 Prof. Your wish may come to pass ; you look Hke one that 
 has mettle enough, and my lord wUl have with him those 
 that are valiant and stout. But my business requires haste. 
 
 Cerh. Ay, so it does. Speed thee to the town of Mansoul,
 
 THE HOLY WAIL 513 
 
 w-itli all the deepest mischiefs that this place can afford thee. 
 And when thou shalt come to the house of Mr Mischief, the 
 pLace -where the Diabolonians meet to plot, tell them that 
 Cerberus doth wish them his ser\dce, and that, if he may, 
 he will with the army come up against the famoua town of 
 Mansoid. 
 
 Prof. That I will. And I know that my lords that are 
 there Mall be glad to hear it, and to see you also. 
 
 So after a few more such kind of compliments, Mr Profane 
 took his leave of his friend Cerberus ; and Cerberus again, 
 with a thousand of their pit-wishes, bid him haste, with all 
 speed, to his masters. The which when he had heard, he 
 made obeisance, and began to gather up his heels to run- 
 Thus, therefore, he returned, and went and came to Man- 
 soul ; and going, as afore, to the house of Mr Mischief, there 
 he found the Diabolonians assembled, and waiting for his 
 returiL Now when he was come, and had presented him- 
 self, he also delivered to them his letter, and adjoined thia 
 compliment to them therewith : — "My lords, from the con- 
 fines of the pit, the high and mighty principalities and powers 
 of the den salute you here, the true Diabolonians of the town 
 of MansouL Wishing you always the most proper of their 
 benedictions, for the great service, high attemjvts, and brave 
 achievements that you have put yourselves upon, for the re- 
 storing to our prince Diabolus the'famous town of Mansoul." 
 This was therefore the present state of the miserable town 
 of Mansoiil : she had offended her Prince, and he was gone ; 
 she had encouraged the powers of hell, by her fooliahneas, to 
 come against her to seek her utter dcBtriiction. 
 
 True, the town of Manaoul was somewhat made sensible 
 of her sin, but the Diabolonians were gotten into her bowels ; 
 she cried, but Emmanuel was gone, and her cries did not 
 fetch him as yet again. Besides, she knew not now whether 
 ever or never he would return and come to his Manaoul 
 again ; nor did they know the power and industry of the 
 enemy, nor how forward they were to put in execution that 
 plot of hell tliat they had devised against her*
 
 514 I'HE HOLY "WAR. 
 
 They did, indeed, still send petition after petition to the 
 Prince, but he answered all with silence. They did neglect 
 reformation, and that was as Diabolus would have it ; for he 
 knew, if they regarded iniquity in their heart, their King 
 woidd not hear their prayer; they therefore did stUl grow 
 weaker and weaker, and were as a roUiag thing before the 
 whirlwind. They cried to their Kmg for help, and laid 
 Diabolonians in their bosoms : what therefore shoidd a Kiac 
 
 O 
 
 do to them? Yea, there seemed now to be a mixtivre La 
 Mausoul : the Diabolonians and the Mansoulians would walk 
 the streets together. Yea, they began to seek their peace ; 
 for they thought that, since the sickness had been so mortal 
 in Mansoul, it was in vain to go to handygripes with them. 
 Besides, the weakness of Mansoul was the strength of their 
 enemies; and the sins of Mansoul, the advantage of the 
 Diabolonians. The foes of Mansoul did also now begin to 
 promise themselves the town for a possession : there was no 
 gTcat difiference now betwixt Mansoulians and Diabolonians : 
 both seemed to be masters of Mansoul. Yea, the Diabolon- 
 ians increased and grew, but the town of Mansoul diminished 
 Good thoughts, greatly- There were more than eleven 
 f^d*^ ooTdes&es"^' ^^o^^^and men, women, and children, that 
 died by the sickness in Mansoul. 
 But now, as Shaddai would have it, there was one 
 whose name was Mr PryweU, a great lover of the people 
 of Mansoul. And he, as his manner was, did go listen- 
 ing up and do-mi in Mansoul to see, and to hear, if 
 at any time he might, whether there was any design 
 against it or no. For he was always a jealous man, and 
 feared some mischief sometime would befaU it, either 
 from the Diabolonians within, or from some power with- 
 out. Now upon a time it so happened, as J^Ir Prywell 
 went listening here and there, that he lighted upon a place 
 called Vile-hiU, in Mansoul, where Diabolonians used to 
 meet ; so hearing a muttering, (you must know that it was 
 in the night,) he softly drew near to hear; nor had he stood 
 long under the house-end, (for there stood a house there ,)
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 515 
 
 but he heard one confidently affirm, that it was not, or 
 would not be long before Diabolus should possess himself 
 again of Mansoul ; and that then the Diabolonians did intend 
 to put all Mansoulians to the sword, and would kill and 
 destroy the King's captains, and drive all his soldiers out of 
 the town. He said, moreover, that he knew there were 
 above twenty thousand fighting men prepared by Diabolus 
 for the accomplishing of this design, and that it would not 
 be months before they all should see it. 
 
 When Mr PryweU had heard this story, he did quickly 
 believe it was true : wherefore he went forthwith to my 
 Lord Mayor's house, and acquainted him trnderstanding. 
 therewith; who, sending for the subordi- Conscience. 
 nate pjreacher, bi'ake the business to him; and he as soon 
 gave the alarm to the town; for he was now the chief 
 preacher in Mansoul, because, as yet, my Lord Secretary 
 was ill at ease. And this was the way that the subordinate 
 preacher did take to alarm the town therewith. The same 
 hour he caused the lecture bell to be rimg ; so the people came 
 together : he gave them then a short exhortation to watch- 
 fulness, and made Mj" Prywell's news the argument thereof. 
 "For," said he, "au horrible plot is contrived against Man- 
 soid, even to massacre us all in a day ; nor is this story to be 
 slighted, for Mr PryweU is the author thereof. Mr Prj'weU 
 was always a lover of Mansoul, a sober and judicious man, 
 a man that is no tattler, nor raiser of false reports, but one 
 that loves to look into the very bottom of matters, and talks 
 nothing of news, but by very solid arguments." 
 
 I will call him, and you shall hear him your own selves : 
 60 he called him, and he came and told his tale so punctually, 
 and affirmed its truth with such ample grounds, that Mansoul 
 fell presently under a conviction of the truth of what he said. 
 The preacher did also back him, saying, "Sirs, it is not iri'a- 
 tional for us to believe it, for we have provoked Shaddai to 
 anger, and have sinned Emmanuel out of the town ; we have 
 bad too much correspondence with Diabolonians, and have 
 forsakan our former mercies • no mar\'el then, if the enemy
 
 616 THE HOLY T\'AR. 
 
 both witliin and without should design ana plot our ruin; 
 
 and what time hke this to do it ? The sickness is now in 
 
 the town, and we have been made weak thereby. Many a 
 
 good-meaning man is dead, and the Diabo- 
 Good desires. , . ? i j i i i 
 
 lonians oi late grow stronger and stronger. 
 
 " Besides, " quoth the subordinate preacher, "I have re- 
 ceived from this good truth-teller this one inkling further. 
 
 They take the that he understood by those that he over- 
 alarm, beard, that several letters have lately passed 
 between the furies and the Diabolonians in order to our de- 
 struction." When !Mansoul heard all this, and not being 
 able to gainsay it, they lift up their voice and wept. Mr 
 Prj' well did also, in the presence of the townsmen, confirm 
 all that their subordinate preacher had said. Wherefore 
 they now set afresh to bewail their folly, and to a doubling 
 of petitions to Shaddai and his Son. They also brake the 
 business to the captains, high commanders, and men of war 
 in the town of Mansoid, entreating them to use the means 
 to be strong, and to take good courage ; and that they woidd 
 look after their harness, and make themselves ready to give 
 Diabolus battle by night and by day, shall he come, as 
 they are informed he wiU, to beleaguer the town of Man- 
 soul. 
 
 When the captains heard this, they being always true lovers 
 of the town of Mansoul, what do they but hke so many Sam- 
 sons they shake themselves, and come together to consult 
 and contrive how to defeat those bold and hellish contriv- 
 ances that were upon the wheel by the means of Diabolus 
 and his friends against the now sickly, weakly, and much- 
 impoverished town of Mansoid;- and they agreed upon these 
 following particulars : — 
 
 1. That the gates of Mansoul should be kept shut, and 
 
 made fast with bars and locks, and that all 
 
 persons that went out, or came in, should 
 
 be very strictly examined by the captains of the guards, "to 
 
 the end," said they, "that those that are managers of the 
 
 plot amongst us, may, either coming or going, be taken •
 
 TUE HOIY WAE. 517 
 
 aiid tliat we may also fiud out who are the great contrivers, 
 amongst us, of our rain." Lam. m. 40. 
 
 2. The next thing was, that a strict search should be made 
 for all kind of Diabolonians throughout the -^vhole town of 
 JMansoul; and that every man's house from top to bottom 
 should be looked into, and that, too, house ^^ ^ ^^ ^g 
 by house, that if possible a further discovery 
 
 mio-ht be made of all such among them as had a hand in these 
 designs. 
 
 3. It -was further concluded upon, that wheresoever or 
 with whomsoever any of the Diabolonians j^^. .. ^ 
 were found, that even those of the town of JPl't''- 1- ^th 
 Mansoul that had given them house and 
 
 harbour, should to their shame, and the warning of others, 
 take penance in the open iilace. 
 
 4. It was, moreover, resolved by the famous town of Man- 
 soul, that a pubhc fast, and a day of humiliation, should be 
 kept throughout the whole corporation, to the justifying of 
 their Prince, the abasing of themselves before him for their 
 transgressions against him and against Shad- - ,- ,c 
 dai his Father. It was further resolved, that 
 
 all such in Mansoul as did not on that day endeavour to keep 
 that fast, and to humble themselves for their faults, but that 
 should mind their worldly employs, or be found wandei-iiig 
 up and down the streets, should be taken for Diabolonians, 
 and should suffer as Diabolonians for such theii- wicked 
 doings. 
 
 5. It was further concluded then, that with what speed, 
 
 and with what warmth of mind they could, 
 
 .,. . . . Jcr. iiSTil. 4. 
 
 they would renew their humiliation for sm, 
 
 and their petitions to Shaddai for help ; they also resolved 
 
 to send tidings to the coui-t of all that Mr Prywell had told 
 
 them. 
 
 6. It was also determined, that thanks should be given by 
 the town of Mansoul to ;Mr Prywell, for his diligent seeking 
 of the welfare of their town : and f lu-ther, that forasmuch as 
 he was so naturally inclined to seek their good, and also to
 
 518 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 undermme their foes, they gave him a commission of scout 
 master-general, for the good of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 When the corporation, with their captains, had thns con- 
 chided, they did as they had said ; they shut up their gates, 
 they made for Diabolonians strict search, they made those 
 with whom any were found to take penance in the open 
 place ; they kept their fast, and renewed their petitions to 
 their Prince : and Mr Prywell managed his charge and the 
 trust that Mansoul had put in his hands, with great con- 
 science and good fidelity ; for he gave himseK wholly up to 
 his employ, and that not only within the town, but he went 
 out to pry, to see, and to hear. 
 
 And not many days after he provided for his journey, and 
 went towards Hell-Gate Hill, into the coimtry where thf 
 doubters were, where he heard of all that had been talked of 
 in IklansoiU, and he perceived also that Diabolus was almost 
 ready for his march, &c. So he came back with speed, and, 
 calling the captains and elders of Mansoul together, he told 
 them where he had been, what he had heard, and what he 
 had seen. Particularly, he told them that Diabolus was 
 almost ready for his march, and that he had made old ISIr 
 Incredulity, that once brake prison in Mansoul, the general 
 of his army; that his army consisted all of doubters, and 
 that their number was above twenty thousand. He told, 
 moreover, that Diabolus did intend to bring with him the 
 chief princes of the infernal pit, and that he woidd make 
 them chief captains over his doubters. He told them, more- 
 over, that it was certainly true that several of the black den 
 would, with Diabolus, ride reformades to reduce the town of 
 Mansoul to the obedience of Diabolus, their prince. 
 
 He said, moreover, that he understood by the doubters, 
 among whom he had been, that the reason why old Incre- 
 dulity was made general of the whole army, was because 
 none truer than he to the tyrant ; and because he had an 
 implacable spite against the welfare of the town of Mansoid. 
 Besides, said he, he remembers the affronts that Mansoul haa 
 given him, and he is resolved to be revenged of them.
 
 THE HOLY WaE. 519 
 
 But the black princes shall be made high commauclers, 
 only Incredulity shall be over them aU ; be- 
 cause, which I had almost forgot, he can 
 more easily, and more dexterously, beleaguer the town of 
 Mansoul, than can any of the princes besides. 
 
 Now, when the captains of Mansoul, with the elders of 
 the town, had heard the tidings that j\Ir Prywell did bring, 
 they thoixght it expedient, without further delay, to put into 
 execution the laws that against the Diabolonians their 
 Prince had made for them, and given them in commandment 
 to manage against thenu Wherefore, forthwith a dihgent 
 and impartial search was made in all houses in Mansoul, for 
 all and all manner of Diabolonians. Now, in the house of 
 Mr ^Mind, aud in the house of the great Lord Willbewill, 
 were two Diabolonians foimd. In !Mr Mind's house was one 
 Lord Covetousness found ; but he had changed his name to 
 Prudent-Thrifty. In my Loi'd WillbewUl's L'^use one Las- 
 ciA^iousness was found ; but he had changed his name to 
 Harmless-Mirth. These two the captains and elders of the 
 town of Mansoul took, and committed them to custody 
 under the hand of Mr Trueman, the gaoler ; and this man 
 handled them so severely, and loaded them so well with 
 ii'ons, that in time they both fell into a very deep consump- 
 tion, and died in the prison-house ; their masters also, ac- 
 cording to the agreement of the captains and elders, were 
 brought to take penance in the open place to their shame, 
 and for a warning to the rest of the town of Llansoul. 
 
 Now, this was the manner of penance in those daj's : the 
 persons offending being made sensible of the evU of their 
 doings, were enjoined open confession of their faults, and a 
 strict amendment of their lives. 
 
 After this, the captains and elders of Mansoul sought yet 
 to find out more Diabolonians, wherever they hu-ked, 
 whether in dens, caves, holes, vaults, or where else they 
 could, in or about the wall or town of Mansoul. But 
 though they could plainly see their footing, and so follow 
 them by their track and smell to their holds, even to the
 
 520 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 moutli of their caves and deng, yet take them, hold them, 
 and do justice ii])on them, they could not ; their ways were 
 80 crooked, their holds so strong, and they so quick to take 
 sanctuary there. 
 
 But Mansoul did now with so stiff an hand rule over the 
 Diabolonians that were left, that they were glad to shrink 
 into corners : time was when they durst walk openly, and in 
 the day ; but now they were forced to embrace privacy and 
 the night : time was when a Mansoulian was their com- 
 panion ; b-"t now they coiinted them deadly enemies. This 
 good change did ilr Prywell's intelligence make in the 
 famous town of JlansouL 
 
 By this time, Diabolus had finished his army which he in- 
 tended to bring with him for tlie ruin of Mansoul ; and had 
 set over them captf.in3, and other field-olBcers, such as liked 
 his furious stomach best : himself was lord paramount. In- 
 credulity was general of his army, their highest cai^tains 
 shall be named afterwards; but now for their officers, 
 coloiirs, and scutcheons. 
 
 1. Their first cajjtain was Captain Eage : he was captain 
 Eey. xii. 3, 4, 13, over the election doubteis, his were the red 
 
 ^^^^- colours ; his standard-bearer was Mr De- 
 
 structive, and the great red dragon he had for his scutcheon. 
 
 2. The second captain was Captain Fury : he was captain 
 over the vocation doubters ; his standard- 
 bearer was Mr Darkness, his colours were 
 
 those that were pale, and he had for his scutcheon the fiery 
 llj'ing sei-pent. 
 
 3. The third captain was Captain Damnation : he was 
 Matt. xxii. 13. captain over the grace doubters ; his were 
 
 Rev. ix. 1. ii^Q j.g(j colours, Mr No-Life bare them, and 
 he had for his scutcheon the black den. 
 
 4. The fourth captain was the Captain Insatiable : he was 
 captain over the faith doubters ; his were 
 the red colours, Mr Devourer bare them, 
 
 Bnd he had for a scutcheon the yawning jaws. 
 
 6. The llfth captain was Cajitain Brimstone : he was cap- 
 
 Nirm. k1. 6. 
 
 Prov. xxrii. 20.
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 521 
 
 tain over tLe peraeverance doubters ; his also were tlie red 
 colours, Mr Burning bare them, and Lis psalm xi e. 
 scutcheon was the Wue and sinking flame. ^^^^- ^^- ^^• 
 
 6. The sixth captain was Captain Torment : he was cap- 
 tain over the resurrection doubters ; his ^^,1; jx. 44 
 colours were those that were jjale ; Mr Gnaw ^'^' ^^^ 
 
 was his standard-bearer, and he had the black worm for his 
 scutcheon. 
 
 7. The seventh captain was Captain No-Ease : he was 
 captain over the salvation doubters ; his jjey. xiv. 11 
 were the red colours, Mr E.estless bare them, ^''- ^• 
 
 and his scutcheon was the ghastly picture of death. 
 
 8. The eighth captain was the Captain Sepidchre : he was 
 
 captain over the glory doubters ; his also 
 
 x-u 1 1 TIT /-, X- • Jer.v. 16. 
 
 were the pale colours, Mr Corruption was 
 
 his standard-bearer, and he had for his scutcheon a skull, 
 
 and dead men's bones. 
 
 9. The ninth captain was Captain Past-IIoj)e : he ^vas 
 captain of those that are called the felicity ^ Tim. iv. 2. 
 doubters ; his standard-bearer was Mr De- lium. ji. 5. 
 spair; his also were the red coloui-s, and his scutcheon was 
 a hot iron and the hard lieart. 
 
 These were his captains, and these were their forces, these 
 were their standards, these were their colours, and these 
 were their scutcheons. Now, over these did the great Dia- 
 bolus make superior captains, and they were in number seven : 
 as, namely, the Lord Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord 
 Legion, the Lord Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cer- 
 berus, and the Lord Belial; these seven he set over the cap- 
 tains, and Licredulity was lord-general, and Diabolus was 
 king. The reformades also, such as were like themselves, 
 were made some of them captains of hundreds, and some of 
 them captains of more. And thus was the army of Incre- 
 dulity completed. 
 
 So they set out at HeU-Gate Hill, for there they had their 
 rendezvous, from whence they came with a straight course 
 upon their march toward the town of Mansoul. Now, as
 
 522 THK HOLY WAR. 
 
 was hinted before, the town had, as Shaddai would have it, 
 
 received from the mouth of Mr Prywell the alarm of their 
 
 coming before. Wherefore they set a strong watch at the 
 
 gates, and had also doubled their giiards : they also mounted 
 
 their shngs in good places, where they might conveniently 
 
 cast out their great stones to the annoyance of the furious 
 
 enemy. 
 
 Nor could those Diaboloniana that were in the town do 
 
 that Jiiirt as was designed they should; for Mansoul was now 
 
 awake. But alas ! poor people, they were sorely affrighted 
 
 at the first ajipearauce of their foes, and at their sitting down 
 
 before the town, especially when thev heard 
 1 Peter V. 8. . r It, • j rr, • . i 
 
 the roarmg oi their drum. This, to speak 
 
 truth, was amazingly hideous to hear; it frighted all men 
 seven miles round, if they were but awake and heard it. 
 The streaming of their colours was also terrible and deject- 
 ing to behold. 
 
 When Diabolus was come up against the town, first he 
 made his approach to Ear-gate, and gave it a f luious assault, 
 supposing, as it seems, that his friends in Mansoul had been 
 ready to do the work within; but care was taken of that 
 before, by the vigUance of the captains. Wherefore missing 
 of the help that he expected from them, and finding his army 
 warmly attended with the stones that the shngers did sluig, 
 (for that I will say for the captains, that considering the 
 weakness that yet was upon them by reason of the long 
 sickness that had annoyed the town of Mansoul, they did 
 gallantly behave themselves,) he was forced to make some 
 retreat from Mansoul, and to intrench him- 
 seK and his men in the field without the 
 reach of the slings of the town. 
 
 Now having intrenched himself, he did cast up four mounts 
 against the town : the first he called Moimt Diabolus, put- 
 ting his own name thereon, the more to affright the town of 
 jNIansoul; the other three he called thus. Mount Alecto, 
 l^Iount Megara, and Mount Tisiphone ; for these are the 
 names of the dreadful f uiies of helL Thus he began to play
 
 TEE BOlY WAR. 523 
 
 his game with Mansoul, and to serve it as doth the lion his 
 prey, even to make it fall before his terror. But, as I said, 
 the captains and soldiers resisted so stoutly, and did do such 
 execution with their stones, that they made him, though 
 against stomach, to retreat ; wherefore Mansoul began to 
 take coxirage. 
 
 Now upon Mount Diabolus, which was raised on the north 
 side of the town, there did the tyrant set up his standard, 
 and a fearful thing it was to behold ; for he had wrought in 
 it by devilish art, after the manner of a scutcheon, a flaming 
 flame fearful to behold, and the pictui-e of Mansoul burning 
 in it. 
 
 When Diabolus had thus done, he commanded that his 
 drummer shoidd every night approach the walls of the town 
 of Mansoul, and so to beat a parley ; the command wa£ to do 
 it at nights, for in the daytime they annoyed him wdth their 
 slings ; for the tyrant said, that he had a mind to parley wath 
 the now trembling town of Mansoul, and he commanded that 
 the drums should beat every night, that through weariness 
 they might at last, if possible, (at the first they were un- 
 wilhng yet,) be forced to do it. 
 
 So this drummer did as commanded: he arose, and did 
 beat his drum. But when his drum did go, if one looked 
 toward the town of Mansotd, ' ' Behold dark- 
 ness and sorrow, and the light waa darkened 
 in the heaven thereof." No noise was ever heard upon earth 
 more terrible, except the voice of Shaddai when he speaketh. 
 But how did Mansoiil tremble ! it now looked for nothinsj 
 but forthwith to be swallowed up. 
 
 When this drummer had beaten for a parley, he made this 
 speech to Mansoul: "My master has bid me teU you, that 
 if you will willingly submit, you shall have the good of the 
 earth ; but if you shall be stubborn, he is resolved to take 
 you by force." But by that the fugitive had done beating 
 his drum, the people of Mansoul had betaken themselves to 
 the captains that were in the castle, so that there was none 
 to regard, nor to give this ca-v.!r.ir.er an answer; so he pro-
 
 524 
 
 THE HOLY WAB. 
 
 ceeded no iiu-tlier that niglit, but retiirRc-d again to L is master 
 to tiie cajip. 
 
 Wlien Diabolus saw tliat by drumming lie could not work 
 out Llansoul to bis Avill, tlie next night he sendeth his drum- 
 mer "without his drum, still to let the townsmen know that 
 he had a mind to jjarley with them. But when all came to 
 all, his parley was turned into a summons to the town to 
 deliver up themselves : but they gave him neither heed nor 
 hearing; for they remembered what at first it cost them to 
 hear him a few words. 
 
 The next night he sends again, and then who shoidd be his 
 messenger to Mansoid but the terrible Captain Sepidchre; 
 so Captain Sepulchre came np to the walls of Mansoul, and 
 n* ade this oration to the town : — 
 
 "0 ye inhabitants of the rebellious town of Mansoul! 1 
 summon you in the name of the prince Diabolus, that, with- 
 out any more ado, you set open the gates of your town, and 
 admit the great lord to come in. But if yoii shall still rebel, 
 when we have taken to us the towa by force, we will swal- 
 low you up as the grave ; wherefore if you will hearken to 
 my summons, say so, and if not then let me know. 
 
 "The reason of this my summons," quoth he, "is, for 
 that my lord is your undoubted prince and lord, as you your- 
 selves have formerly owned. Nor shall that assault that 
 was given to my lord, when Emmanuel dealt so dishonourably 
 by him, prevail with him to lose his right, and to forbear to 
 attempt to recover his own. Consider, then, JNIansoul, 
 with thyself, wilt thou shew thyself peaceable, or no ? If 
 thou shalt quietly yield up thyself, then our old friendship 
 shall be renewed; but if thou shalt yet refuse aud rebel, 
 then expect nothing but fire and sword." 
 
 "When the languishincr town of Mansoul had heard this 
 siTUimoner and his siunmons, they were j^et more put to their 
 dumps, but made to the captain no answer at all; so away 
 he went as he came. 
 
 But, after some considtation among themselves, as also 
 with some of their csiptains, they applied themselves afresh
 
 THE dOlY WA.K. 625 
 
 to tlie Lord Secretary for counsel and advice from liim ; far 
 this Lord Secretary was their chief preacher, (as also is men- 
 tioned some pages before,) only now lie was ill at ease; and 
 of him they begged favour in these two or three things. 
 
 1. That lie would look comfortably upon them, and not 
 keep liimself so mucli retired from them as formerly. Also, 
 that he would be prevailed with to give them a hearing, while 
 they sbould make known their miserable condition to him. 
 But to this be toldtliem as before, " that as yet he was but ill 
 at ease, and therefore could not do as he had formerly done." 
 
 2. The second thing that they desired was, that he would 
 be pleased to give them his advice about their now so im- 
 portant affairs, for that Diabolus was come and set down 
 before the town with no less than twenty thousand doubters. 
 They said, moreover, that both he and his cai)tain8 were 
 cruel men, and that they were afraid of them. But to this 
 he said, " You must look to the law of the Prince, and there 
 see what is laid upon jow to do. " 
 
 3. Then they desired that his Highness would help them 
 to frame a petition to Shaddai, and unto Emmanuel his Son, 
 and that he would set his own hand thereto as a token that 
 he was one with them in it : "For," said they, "my Lord, 
 many a one have we sent, but can get no answer of peace ; 
 but now, surely, one with thy hand imto it may obtain good 
 for Mansoul." 
 
 But all the answer that he gave to this was, "that they 
 had offended their Emmanuel, and had also grieved himself, and 
 that therefore they must as yet partake of their own devices." 
 
 This answer of the Lord Secretary fell like a. millstone 
 upon them ; yea, it crushed them so that they could not tell 
 what to do; yet they durst not comply with the demands of 
 Diabolus, nor with the demands of his cap- 
 tain. So then here were the straits that 
 the town of Mansoul was betwixt, when the enemy came 
 upon her: her foes were ready to swallow her up, and her 
 friends did forbear to help her. 
 
 Then stood up my Lord Mayor, whose name waa my I^nl
 
 526 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 Understanding, and he began to pick and pick, until he had 
 picked comfort out of that seemingly bitter saying of the Lord 
 Secretary; for thus he discanted uj)on it; "First," said he, 
 "this unavoidably foUows upon the saying of my Lord, 
 'that we must yet suffer for our sins.' Secondly, But," 
 quoth he, "the words yet sound as if at last we should be 
 saved from our enemies ; and that after a few more sorrows, 
 Emmanuel wiU come and be our help." Kow the Lord 
 Mayor was the more critical in his dealing with the Secre- 
 tary's words, because my lord was more than a prophet, 
 and because none of his words were such, but that at all 
 times they were most exactly significant; and the townsmen 
 were allowed to pry into them, and to expound them to their 
 best advantage. 
 
 So they took their leaves of my lord, and returned, and 
 went, and came to the captains, to whom they did teU what 
 my Lord High Secretary had said ; who, when they had heard 
 it, were all of the same opinion as was my Lord Mayor him- 
 self. The captains, therefore, began to take some coiu-age 
 unto them, and to prepare to make some brave attempt 
 upon the camp of the enemy, and to destroy aU that were 
 Diabolonians, with the roving doubters that the tyrant had 
 brought with him to destroy the poor town of Mansoul. 
 
 So aU betook themselves forthwith to their places — ^the 
 captains to theirs, the Lord !Mayor to his, the subordinate 
 preacher to his, and my Lord WiUbewill to his. The cap- 
 tains longed to be at some work for their Prince ; for they 
 delighted in warlike achievements. The next day, there- 
 fore, they came together and consulted ; and after consulta- 
 tion had, they resolved to give an answer to the captain of 
 Diabolus with slings ; and so they did at the rising of the 
 sun on the morrow; for Diaboliis had ventured to come 
 nearer again, but the sling-stones were to him and his like 
 hornets. For as there is nothing to the town of Mansoul so 
 terrible as the roaring of Diabolus's drum, 
 so there is nothing to Diabolus so terrible as 
 the well playing of Emmanuel's sUugs. Wherefore Diabolus
 
 THE HOLY WAB. 527 
 
 was forced to make another retreat, yet furtlier off from the 
 famous town of Mansoul. Then did the Lord Mayor of ilan- 
 soul cause the bells to be rung, " and that thanks shoiUd be 
 sent to the Lord High Secretary by the mouth of the 
 subordinate preacher; for that by his words the captains 
 and elders of Mansoul had been strengthened against Dia- 
 bolus." 
 
 When Diabolus saw that his captains and soldiers, high 
 lords and renowned, were frightened, and beaten down by 
 the stones that came from the golden slings of the Prince of 
 the town of Mansoul, he bethought himself, and said, "I 
 will try to catch them by fawning, I will try to flatter them 
 into my net." 
 
 Wherefore, after a while, he came down again to the wall, 
 not now with his drum, nor with Captain Sepulchre; but 
 having all besugared his lips, he seemed to be a very sweet- 
 mouthed, peaceable prince, designing nothing for humour's 
 sake, nor to be revenged on Mansoid for injuries by them 
 done to him; but the welfare, and good, and advantage of 
 the town and people therein was now, as he said, his only 
 design. Wherefore, after he had called for audience, and 
 desired that the to%\Tisfolk would give it to him, he proceeded 
 in his oration, and said : — 
 
 " Oh, the desire of my heart, the famous town of Mansoiil'. 
 how many nights have I watched, and how i peter r. 8. 
 many weary steps have I taken, if perhaps ^^- ^- ^*^- 
 I mic'ht do thee good ! Far be it, far be it from me to desire 
 to make a war upon you; if ye will but willingly and quietly 
 deliver up yourselves unto me. You know Matt. iv. 8, 9. 
 that you were mine of old. Kemember also, ^^^^ ^^- ^' ^• 
 that ?o long as you enjoyed me for your lord, and that I 
 enjoyed you for my subjects, you wanted satan reads aU 
 nothing of all the delights of the earth, that backwards. 
 I, your lord and prince, could get for you, or that I could 
 invent to make you bonny and blithe withal. Consider, you 
 never had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart-afflict- 
 inf hours, while you were mine, as you have had since you
 
 528 tilE HOLY AV^AR. 
 
 revolted from me; nor stall yon ever have peace again, until 
 you and I become one as before. But, be but prevailed witli 
 Take heed, *° embrace me again, and I ■will grant, yea, 
 MauBouil enlarge your old charter with abundance of 
 privileges ; so that your licence and liberty shall be to take, 
 hold, enjoy, and make your own all that is pleasant from the 
 east to the west. Nor shall any of those incivilities, where- 
 with you have ofTended me, be ever charged upon you by 
 me, so long as the sun and moon endure. Nor shall any of 
 
 those dear friends of mine that now, for the 
 Sjas. 
 
 fear of you, lie lurking in dens, and holes, 
 
 and caves in Mansoiil, be hurtful to you any more ; yea, they 
 
 The pleasure shall be your servants, and shall minister 
 
 of sin. ^jj^g y.Q^ pf their substance, and of whatever 
 
 shall come to hand. I need speak no more; you know them, 
 
 and have some time since been much dehghted in their com- 
 
 Nol no! no! not P^^^^* ^^^^y' *^®^' should we abide at such 
 upon pain of eternal odds? Let US renew our old acquaintance 
 ciauiuatiou. .... 
 
 and friendship again. 
 
 "Bear with your friend; I take the liberty at this time 
 to speak thus freely unto you. The love that I have to you 
 jiresses me to do it, as also does the zeal of my heart for my 
 friends with you : put me not therefore to further trouble, 
 nor yourselves to further fears and frights. Have you I wUl, 
 in a way of peace or war ; nor do you iiatter yourselves with 
 the power and force of your captains, or that your Emmanuel 
 wUl shortly come in to your help ; for such strength wQl do 
 you no pleasure. 
 
 " T am come against you with a stout and valiant army, 
 and all the chief princes of the den are even at the head of 
 it. Besides, my captains are swifter than eagles, stronger 
 flian lions, and more greedy of prey than are the evening 
 wolves. What is Og of Bashan! what is Goliath of Gath! 
 i>nd what are an himdred more of them to one of the least of 
 my captains ! How, then, ehall Mansoul think to escape my 
 hand and force?" 
 
 Diabolus having thus ended Ids flattering, fawning, deceit-
 
 THE nOLY WAR. 629 
 
 fill, aud lying speech to the famous town of Mansoul, the 
 Lord Mayor replied to hiiu as follows : — 
 
 " Diabohis, prince of darkness, aud master of all deceit; 
 thy lying flatteries we have had and made sufiicieut probation 
 of, and have tasted too deeply of that destructive ciip already. 
 Should we therefore again hearken unto thee, and to break 
 the commandments of oiir great Shaddai, to join in affinity 
 with thee, woidd not our Prince rejpct us, and cast us off for 
 ever? And, being cast off by him, can the place that he has 
 prepared for thee be a place of rest for us? Besides, thou 
 that art empty and void of all truth, we are rather ready to 
 die by thy hand, than to fall in with thy flattering and lying 
 deceits. " 
 
 When the tyrant saw that there was little to be got by 
 parleying with my Lord !Mayor, he fell into an hellish rage, 
 and resolved that again, with his army of doubters, he would 
 another time assault the town of Mansoul. 
 
 So he called for his drummer, who beat up for his men 
 (and while he did beat, Mansoul did shake) to be in a readi- 
 ness to give battle to the corporation : then Diabolus drew 
 near with his army, and thiis disposed of his men. Cajitain 
 Cruel and Captain Torment, these he drew uj) and placed 
 against Feel-gate, and commanded them to sit down there 
 for the war. And he also appointed that, if need were, 
 Captain No-Ease should come in to their relief. At Nose- 
 gate he placed the Captain Brimstone and Captain Scjnilchre, 
 and bid them look well to their ward, on that side of the 
 town of MansouL But at Eye-gate he placed that grimfaced 
 one, the Captain Past- Hope, and there also now he did set 
 up his terrible standard. 
 
 Now Captain Insatiable, he was to look to the carriages of 
 Diabolus, and was also appointed to take into custody that, 
 or those persons and things, that should at any time as prey 
 be taken from the enemy. 
 
 Now Mouth-gate the inhabitants of Mansoul kept for a 
 sally-port ; wherefore that they kept strong ; for that was it 
 by and out at which the townsfolk did send their petitions 
 
 2 L
 
 530 THE HOLy WAR. 
 
 to Emmamiel their Prince. That also was tue gate from the 
 top of which the captains did play their slings at the ene- 
 mies ; for that gate stood somewhat ascending, so that the 
 placing of them there, and the letting of them fly from that 
 place, did much execution against the tyrant's army. Where- 
 fore, for these causes, with others, Diabolus sought, if pos- 
 sible, to land up Mouth-gate with dirt. 
 
 Now, as Diabolus was busy and industrious in preparing 
 to make his assault upon the town of Manso^ll without, so 
 the captains and soldiers in the corporation were as busy 
 in preparing within ; they mounted their slings, they set up 
 their banners, they sounded their trumpets, and put them- 
 selves in such order as was judged most for the annoyance of 
 the enemy, and for the advantage of Mansoul, and gave to 
 their soldiers orders to be ready at the sound of the trumpet 
 for war. The Lord WiUbewUl also, he took the charge of 
 watching against the rebels within, and to do what he could 
 to take them while without, or to stifle them within their 
 caves, dens, and holes in the town-wall of Mansoul. And, 
 to speak the truth of him, ever since he took penance for his 
 faidt, he has shewed as much honesty and bravery of spu'it 
 as any he in Mansoul ; for he took one Jolly, and his brother 
 Griggish, the two sons of his servant Harmless-Mirth, (for to 
 that day, though the father was committed to ward, the sons 
 had a dwelling in the house of my lord,) — I say, he took 
 them, and with his own hands put them to the cross. And 
 this was the reason why he hanged them up : after their 
 father was put into the hands of Mr True-Man the gaoler, 
 they, his sons, began to play his pranks, and to be ticking 
 and toying with the daughters of their lord ; nay, it was 
 jealoused that they were too familiar with them, the which 
 was brought to his lordship's ear. Now his lordship being 
 unwilling unadvisedly to put any man to death, did not sud- 
 denly fall upon them, but set watch and spies to see if the 
 thing was true ; of the which he was soon informed, for his 
 two servants, whose names were Find-Out and Tell- A 11, 
 catched them together in uncivil manner more than once or
 
 THE HOLY VfAR. 531 
 
 twice, and went and told their lord. So when ny Lord 
 Willbewill had sufficient ground to believe the thing was tnie, 
 he takes the two young Diabolonians, (for such they were, 
 for their father was a Diabolonian bom,) and has them to 
 Eye-gate, where he raised a very high cross, just in the face 
 of Diabolus, and of his army, and there he hanged tiie young 
 villains, in defiance to Captain Past-Hope, and of the horrible 
 standard of the tyrant. 
 
 Now this Christian act of the brave Lord WiUbewill did 
 greatly abash Captain Past-Hope, discour- fortification of 
 ao-ed the army of Diabolus, put fear into sin is a sigu of hope 
 
 - • -nT 1 ^ of life, 
 
 the Diaboloman runagates m Mansoul, and 
 
 put strength and courage into the captains that belonged to 
 Emmanuel the Prince ; for they without did gather, and 
 that by this very act of my lord, that Mansoul was resolved 
 to fight, and that the Diabolonians within the town could 
 not do such things as Diabolus had hopes they would. Nor 
 was this the only proof of the brave Lord WillbewiU's honesty 
 to the town, nor of his loyalty to his Prince, as wiU after- 
 wards appear. 
 
 Now, when the children of Prudent-Thrifty, who dwelt 
 with Mr Mind, (for Thrift left children with Mr Mind, when 
 he was also committed to prison, and their names were Gripe 
 and Rake-All ; these he begat of Mr ^Mind's bastard daugh- 
 ter, whose name was Mrs Hold-fast-Bad ;) — I say, when his 
 children perceived how the Lord Willbewill had served them 
 that dwelt with him, what do they but, lest they should 
 drink of the same ciip, endeavour to make their escape. But 
 Mr Mind, being wary of it, took them and put them in hold 
 in his house till morning, (for this was done over night;) 
 and remembering that by the law of Mansoid all Diabolonians 
 were to die, (and to be sure they were at least by father's 
 side such, and some say by mother's side too,) what d(jcs he 
 but takes them and puts them in chains, and carries them to 
 the seK-same place where my lord hanged his two before, 
 and there he hanged them. 
 
 The townsmen also took great encouragement at this act
 
 532 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of Mr Mind, and did what they could to have taken some 
 more of these Diabolonian troublers of Mansoul ; but at that 
 time the rest lay so squat and close, that they could not be 
 apprehended ; so they set against them a diligent watch, and 
 went every man to his place. 
 
 I told you a little before, that Diabolus and his army were 
 somewhat abashed and discouraged at the sight of what my 
 Lord WillbewiU did, when he hanged up those two yoirng 
 Diabolonians ; but his discouragement quickly turned itself 
 into furious madness and rage against the town of Mansoul, 
 and fight it he would. Also the townsmen and captains 
 within, they had their hopes and their expectations height- 
 ened, believing at last the day would be theirs; so they 
 feared them the less. Their subordinate preacher, too, made 
 a sermon about it; and he took that theme for his text, 
 "Gad, a troop shall overcome him : but he 
 shall overcome at the last." Whence he 
 shewed, that though Mansoul should be sorely put to it at 
 the first, yet the victory should most certainly be Mansoul's 
 at the last. 
 
 So Diabolus commanded thflt his drummer should beat a 
 charge against the town; and the captaias also that were in 
 the town sounded a charge against them, but they had no 
 drum : they were trumpets of silver with which they sounded 
 against them. Then they which were of the camp of Dia- 
 bolus came down to the town to take it, and the captains in 
 
 With heart and *^^ castle, with the slingers at Mouth-gate, 
 mouth. played upon them amain. And now there 
 
 was nothing heard in the camp of Diabolus but horrible rage 
 and blasphemy; but in the town good words, prayer, and 
 singing of psalms. The enemy rejilied with horrible objec- 
 tions, and the terribleness of their drum ; but the town made 
 answer with the slapping of their slings, and the melodious 
 noise of their trumpets. And thus the fight lasted for 
 several days together, only now and then they had soma 
 small intermission, in the which the townsmen refreshed 
 themselves, and the captains made ready for another assault.
 
 TBS EOLY VTAE. 533 
 
 The captains of Emmanuel were clad in silver armour, and 
 
 the soldiers in that which was of proof ; the soldiers of Dia- 
 
 bolus were clad in iron, which was made to give place to 
 
 Emmanuel's engine-shot. In the town, some were hurt, and 
 
 some were greatly wounded. Now, the worst of 'it was, a 
 
 ehirurgeon was scarce in Mansoul, for that Emmanuel at 
 
 present was absent. Howbeit, with the ^g^ j^jj^ g. 
 
 leaves of a tree the wounded were kept ^salm ixxvui. 5. 
 
 from dying ; yet their wounds did greatly putrefy, and some 
 
 did grievously stink. Of the townsmen, these were wounded, 
 
 namely, my Lord Eeason; he was wounded in the head. 
 
 Another that was wounded was the brave Lord Mayor; he 
 
 was wounded in the eye. Another that was wounded was 
 
 Mr Mind; he received his wound about the stomach. The 
 
 honest subordinate preacher also, he received a shot not far 
 
 off the heart; but none of these were mortaL 
 
 Many also of the inferior soi't were not 
 
 J , . • 1 . Hopeful thoughts, 
 
 only wounded, but slain outright. 
 
 Now, in the camp of Diabolus, were wounded and slain a 
 considerable number; for instance, Captaiu Rage, he was 
 wounded, and so was Captain ChieL Captain Damnation 
 was made to retreat, and to iatrench himself further off of 
 Mansoul. The standard also of Diabolus was beaten down, 
 and his standard-bearer, Captain Much-Hurt, had his brains 
 beat out with a sling-stone, to the no little gi'ief and shame 
 of his prince Diabolus. 
 
 Many also of the doubters were slain outright, thotigh 
 enough of them were left alive to make Mansoid ehake and 
 totter. Now the victory that day being turned to Mansoul, 
 did put great valour into the townsmen and captains, and 
 did cover Diabolus's camp with a cloud, but withal it made 
 them far more furious. So the next day Mansoiil rested, 
 and commanded that the bells should be rung; the trumpets 
 also joyfully sounded, and the captains shouted round the 
 town. 
 
 My Lord Willbewdl also was not idle, but did notablo 
 service within against the domestics, or the Diaboloiiians that
 
 53i 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 were in the to^yn, not only by keeping them in awe, for he 
 lighted on one at last whose name was ]VIr Anything, a 
 fellow of whom mention was made before; for it was he, if 
 you remember, that brought the three fellows to Diabolus, 
 whom the Diabolonians took out of Cajitain Boanerges's 
 companies, and that persuaded them to list themselves under 
 the tyrant, to fight against the army of ShaddaL My Lord 
 Willbewill did also take a notable Diabolonian, whose name 
 was Loose-Foot : this Loose-Foot was a scout to the vaga- 
 bonds in Mansoul, and that did use to carry tidings out of 
 ]\Iansoul to the camp, and out of the camp to those of the 
 enemies in Mansoul. Both these my lord sent away safe to 
 Mr True-Man, the gaoler, with a commandment to keep 
 them in irons ; for he intended then to have them out to be 
 crucified, when it would be for the best to the corporation, 
 most for the discouragement of the camp of the enemies. 
 
 My Lord Mayor also, though he could not stir about so 
 much as formerly, because of the wound that he lately re- 
 ceived, yet gave he out orders to all that were the natives of 
 Mansoid, to look to their watch, and stand upon their guard, 
 and, as occasion should offer, to prove themselves men- 
 Mr Conscience, the preacher, he also did his utmost to 
 keep all his good documents alive upon the hearts of the 
 people of MansouL 
 
 Well, awhile after, the captains and stout ones of the town 
 of Mansoul agreed and resolved upon a time to make a sally 
 out upon the camp of Diabolus, and this must be done in the 
 night ; and there was the folly of Mansoid, (for the night is 
 always the best for the enemy, but the worst for Mansoul to 
 fight in,) but yet they would do it, their courage was so 
 high; their last victory also still stuck in their memories. 
 
 So the night appointed being come, the Prince's brave 
 captains cast lots who should lead the van in this new and 
 desperate expedition against Diabolus, and against his Diabo- 
 lonian array; and the lot fell to Captain Credence, to Captain 
 Experience, and to Captain Good-Hope to lead the forlorn 
 hope. (This Captain Experience the Prince created snob
 
 TUB HOLY WAB. 533 
 
 when Limself did reside in the town of MansoiiL) So, as 1 
 said, they made their sally out upon the army that lay iu 
 the siege agaiast them; and their hap was to fall in with 
 the main body of their enemies. Now Diabolus and his 
 men being expertly accustomed to night-work, took the 
 alarm presently, and were as ready to give them battle, as if 
 they had sent them word of their coming. Wherefore to it 
 they went amain, and blows were hard on every side ; the 
 hell drum also was beat most furiously, while the trumj^ets 
 of the Prince most sweetly soimded. And thus the battle 
 was joined; and Captain Insatiable looked to the enemy's 
 carriages, and waited when he should receive some prey. 
 
 The Prince's captains fought it stoutly, beyond what in- 
 deed could be expected they should ; they wounded many ; 
 they made the whole army of Diabolus to make a retreat. 
 But I cannot tell how, but the brave Captain Credence, Cap- 
 tain Good-Hope, and Captain Experience, as they were upon 
 the piirsuit, cutting down, and following hard after the enemy 
 in the rear. Captain Credence stumbled and fell, by which 
 fall he caught so great a hurt, that he could not rise till C'ap< 
 tain Experience did help him up, at which their men were 
 put in disorder. The captaia also was so full of pain, that he 
 could not forbear but aloud to cry out : at this, the other 
 two captains fainted, supposing that Captain Credence had 
 received his mortal wound ; their men also were more dis- 
 ordered, and had no list to fight. Now Diabolus being very 
 observing, though at this time as yet he was put to the worst, 
 percei\Tng that a halt was made among the men that were 
 the pursuers, what does he but, taking it for granted that 
 the captains were either woimdcd or dead, he therefore makes 
 at first a stand, then faces about, aud so comes up upon the 
 Prince's army with as much of his fury as hell could help 
 him to ; and his hap was to fall in just among the three 
 captains. Captain Credence, Captain Good-Hojie, and Captaia 
 Experience, aud did cut, wound, and pierce them so dread- 
 fully, that what thi-ough discouragement, what through dis- 
 order, and what tlurough the wounds that now they ha^l
 
 536 
 
 'THE HOLY WAB 
 
 received, and also the loss of much blood, they scarce were 
 
 able, though they had for their power the three best hands 
 
 in Mansoul, to get safe into the hold again. 
 
 _ . ,. Now, when the body of the Prince's army 
 
 Satan sometimes •' •' 
 
 makes saints eat saw how these tlvree captains were put to 
 their words. 
 
 the worst, they thought it their wisdom to 
 
 make as safe and good a retreat as they could, and so re- 
 tiu-ned by the sally-jjort again ; and so there was an end of 
 this present action. But Diabolus was so flushed with this 
 night's work, that he promised himself, in few days, an easy 
 and complete conquest over the town of Mansoul ; where- 
 fore, on the day follo^ving, he comes up to the sides thereof 
 with great boldness, and demands entrance, and that forth- 
 with they deliver themselves up to his government. The 
 Diabolonians, too, that were within, they began to be some- 
 what brisk, as we shall shew afterwai-d. 
 
 But the valiant Lord Mayor replied, that what he got he 
 must get by force ; for as long as Emmanuel, their Prince, 
 was alive, (though he at present was not so with them as 
 they M'ished,) they should never consent to yield Mansoul up 
 to another. 
 
 And -v^-ith that the Lord Willbewill stood up, and said, 
 •' Diabolus, thou master of the den, and enemy to aU that is 
 good, we poor inhabitants of the town of Mansoul are too 
 well acquainted with- thy rule and government, and with the 
 end of those things that for certain wiU follow submitting to 
 thee, to do it. "Wherefore though while we were without 
 knowledge we suffered thee to take us, (as the bird that saw 
 not the snare, fell into the hands of the fowler,) yet since 
 we have been turned from darkness to light, we have also 
 been turned from the power of Satan to God. And though 
 throTigh thy subtlety, and also the subtlety of the Diabo- 
 lonians within, we have sustained much loss, and also plimged 
 ourselves into much perplexity, yet give up ourselves, lay 
 down our arms, and yield to so horrid a tyrant as thou, we 
 shall not ; die upon the place we choose rather to do. Be- 
 Bides, we have hopes that in time deliverance will come from
 
 THE HOLY '^AK. 537 
 
 court uiito lis, and tlierefore we yet will maintain a war 
 against thee." 
 
 This brave speech of the Lord Willbe%vill, with that also 
 of the Lord Mayor, did somewhat abate the boldness of Dia- 
 bolus, though it kindled the fuiy of his rage. It also suc- 
 coured the townsmen and captains ; yea, it was as a plaster 
 to the brave Captain Credence's wound ; for you must know 
 tliat a brave speech now (when the captains of the town with 
 theii' men of war came home routed, and when the enemy 
 took courage and boldness at the success that he had obtained 
 to draw up to the walls, and demand entrance, as he did) was 
 in season, and also advantageous. 
 
 The Lord Willbewill also did jtlay the man within ; for 
 while the captains and soldiers were in the field, he was in 
 arms in the town, and wherever by him there was a Diabo- 
 lonian found, they were forced to feel the weight of his hca\-y 
 hand, and also the edge of his penetrating sword : many 
 therefore of the Diabolonians he wounded, as the Lord Cavil, 
 the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, and the Lord Murmur ; 
 several also of the meaner sort he did sorely maim ; though 
 there cannot at this time an account be given you of any 
 that he slew outright. The cause, or rather the advantage 
 that my Lord Willbewill had at this time to do thus, was 
 for that tlie captains were gone out to fight the enemy in the 
 field. "For now," thought the Diabolonians within, "is 
 our time to stir and make an uproar in the town. " What 
 do they therefore but quickly get themselves into a b<idy, 
 and fall forthwith to hurricauing in Mansoul, as if now no- 
 thing but whirlwind and tempest should be there. Where- 
 fore, as I said, he takes this opportunity to fall in among 
 them with his men, cutting and slashing with courage that 
 was undaunted ; at which the Diabolonians with all haste 
 dispersed themselves to their holds, and my lord to his place 
 as before. 
 
 This brave act of my lord did somewhat revenge the wrong 
 done by Diabohw to the captains, and also Nothing like faith 
 did let then know that Mansoid was not to to cru^li Diabol.is. •
 
 538 TH3 HOLY WAE. 
 
 be parted with for the loss of a %-ictory or two ; where- 
 fore the wing of the tyrant was clipped again, as to 
 boasting, — I mean in comparison of what he would have 
 done, if the Diabolonians had put the town to the same 
 plight to which he had put the captains. 
 
 Well, Diabolus yet resolves to have the other bout with 
 Mansoul; "For," thought he, "since I beat them once, I 
 may beat them twice." Wherefore he commanded hia men 
 He tries what he to be ready at such an hour of the night, to 
 sense tndTeXgo? ^ake a fresh assault upon the town; and 
 the Christian. j^g gave it out in special that they should 
 
 bend all their force against Feel-gate, and attempt to break 
 into the town through that. The word that then he did 
 give to his officers and soldiers was Hell-fire. " And," said 
 he, '* if we break in upon them, as I wish we do, either with 
 some, or with all our force, let them that break in look to it, 
 that they forget not the word. And let nothing be heard in 
 the town of Mansoul but, ' Hell-fire ! Hell-fire I Hell-fire ! ' " 
 The drummer was also to beat without ceasing, and the 
 standard-bearers were to display their colours; the soldiers, 
 too, were to put on what courage they could, and to see that 
 they played manfully their parts against the town. 
 
 So when night was come, and all things by the tyrant 
 made ready for the work, he suddenly makes his assault 
 upon Feel-gate, and after he had awhile struggled there, he 
 throws the gate wide open : for the truth is, those gates were 
 but weak, and so most easily made to yield. When Dia- 
 bolus had thus far made his attempt, he placed his captains 
 (namely, Torment and No-Ease) there; so he attempted to 
 press forward, but the Prince's captains came down upou 
 him, and made his entrance more difficult than he desired- 
 And, to speak truth, they made what resistance they could; 
 
 ,„ , but the three of their best and most valiant 
 
 When these three . . ,,,,,. 
 
 captains are dis- caiJtains being wounded, andby theu-woimds 
 
 ableil, what can tlie , . . i t j- n • j_i j. j.i. i. 
 
 rest do for the town made much incapable of doing the towntbat 
 
 service they woidd, (and all the rest having 
 
 more than their hands full of the doubters, and their captains
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 539 
 
 that did foUow Diabolus,) they were overpowered with force, 
 
 nor could they keep them out of the town. Wherefore the 
 
 Prince's men and their captains betook themselves to the 
 
 castle, as to the strong hold of the town : and this they did 
 
 partly for their own security, partly for the security of the 
 
 town, and partly, or rather chiefly, to preserve to Emmanuel 
 
 the prerogative-royal of Mansoul; for so was the castle of 
 
 Mansoul, 
 
 The captains therefore being fled into the castle, the enemy, 
 
 without much resistance, possess themselves of the rest of 
 
 the town, and spreading themselves as they went into every 
 
 comer, they cried oiit as they marched, according to the 
 
 command of the tyrant, "Hell-fire! Hell-fire! Hell-fire!" 
 
 so that nothing for awhile throughout the town of Mansoul 
 
 could be heard but the dire fid noise of "Hell-fire ! " together 
 
 with the roaring of Diabolus's drimi. And ij^^ ga.ri fruits of 
 
 now did the clouds hang black over Man- apostasy. 
 
 soul, nor to reason did anything but ruin seem to attend it. 
 
 Diabolus also quartered his soldiers in the houses of the 
 
 inhabitants of the town of Mansoul. Yea, the subordinate 
 
 preacher's house was as full of these outlandish doubters as 
 
 ever it could hold, and so was my Lord Mayor's and my 
 
 Lord Willbewill's also. Yea, where was there a corner, a 
 
 cottage, a bam, or a hogstye, that now was not fidl of these 
 
 vermin ? Yea, they turned the men of the town out of their 
 
 houses, and would lie in their beds, and sit at their tables 
 
 themselves. Ah, poor Mansoid ! now thou fcelest the fruits 
 
 of sin, and what venom was in the flattering words of Mr 
 
 Carnal-Security ! They made great havoc of whatever they 
 
 laid their hands on ; yea, they fired the town _ 
 
 in several places; many young children also Gond ana tender 
 
 . . thoughts. 
 
 were by them dashed in pieces ; yea, those 
 
 that were yet unborn they destroyed in their mother's wombs : 
 
 for you mTist needs think that it could not now be otherwise ; 
 
 for what conscience, what pity, what bowels or compassion 
 
 can any expect at the hands of outlandish doubters ? Many 
 
 in Mansoul that were women, both young and old, they
 
 540 THB HOZY WAR. 
 
 forced, ravished, and beast-like abused, so tbat they swooned. 
 
 Holy conceptions miscarried, and many of them died, and so 
 
 ofgooo. i^y ^t ^jjQ ^pp ^,£ g^gj,y gtreet, and in all 
 
 by-places of the town. 
 
 And now did Mansoul seem to be nothing but a den of 
 dragons, an emblem of hell, and a place of total darkness. 
 ISTow did Mansoul lie almost like the barren wilderness ; no- 
 thing but nettles, briers, thorns, weeds, and stinking things 
 seemed now to cover the face of MansouL I told you before, 
 how that these Diabolonian doubters turned the men of 
 
 _ ^ Mansoul out of their beds, and now I will 
 
 Rest. 
 
 add, they wounded them, they maided them, 
 yea, and almost brained many of them. Many, did I say, yea 
 most, if not aU of them. Mr Conscience they so woimded, 
 yea, and his wounds so festered, that he could have no ease 
 day nor night, but lay as if continually upon a rack ; but 
 that Shaddai rules all, certainly they had slain him outright. 
 Mr Lord Mayor they so abused that they almost put out his 
 eyes; and had not my Lord WillbewiU got into the castle, 
 they intended to have chopped him all to pieces; for they 
 
 Satan has a parti- ^^^^ ^""^^ "P^^ 1"™' ^^ ^'^ ^^^'^^ ^"^ ^^Ood, 
 cular spite against a to be one of the very worst that was in 
 Banctified will. ■' 
 
 Mansoid against Diabolus and his crew. 
 
 And indeed he hath shewed himself a man, and more of his 
 exploits you will hear of afterwards. 
 
 Now, a man might have walked for days together in Man- 
 soul, and scarcely have seen one in the town 
 Tiiougnt. 
 
 that looked like a religious man. Oh, the 
 
 fearful state of Mansoul now ! now every corner swarmed 
 
 with outlandish doubters ; red-coats and black-coats walked 
 
 the town by clusters, and filled up all the houses with 
 
 The soul fuU of lii*ieou3 noises, vain songs, lying stories, 
 
 jille thoughts and and blasphemous lansruarre aa;ainst Shaddai 
 blasphemies. , , . . -^ f , 
 
 and his Son. Now also those Diaboloniana 
 
 that lurked in the walls and dens and holes that were in the 
 
 town of Mansoul, came forth and shewed themselves; yea, 
 
 walked with open face in company with the doubters that
 
 THE HOLY WAH. 541 
 
 were in ilansoiil. Yea, they had more boldness now to walk 
 the streets, to haunt the houses, and to shew themselves 
 abroad, than had any of the honest inhabitants of the now 
 woeful town of Mansoul. 
 
 But Diabolus and his outlandish men were not at peace in 
 Mansoul ; for they were not there entertained as were the 
 captains and forces of Emmanuel : the townsmen did brow- 
 beat them what they could ; nor did they partake or make 
 stroy of any of the necessaries of Mansoul, but that which 
 they seized on against the townsmen's wdl : what they 
 could, they hid from them, and what they could not, they 
 had with an ill-will. They, poor hearts ! had rather have 
 had their room than their company ; but they were at pre- 
 sent their captives, and their captives for 
 
 1 . 1.1 T.ix Kom. Tii. 
 
 the present they were forced to be. But, i 
 
 say, they discountenanced them as much as they were able, 
 and shewed them aU the dislike that they could. 
 
 The captains also from the castle did hold them in con- 
 tinual i^lay with their slings, to the chafing and fretting of 
 the minds of the enemies. True, Diabolus made a great 
 many attempts to have broken open the gates of the castle, 
 but Mr Godly-Fear was made the keeper of that ; and he 
 was a man of that courage, conduct, and valour, that it 
 was in vain, as long as Hfe lasted within him, to think to 
 do that work, though mostly desired ; wherefore all the at- 
 tempts that Diabolus made against him were fruitless. I 
 have wished sometimes that that man had had the wholo 
 rule of the town of Mansoul 
 
 Well, this was the condition of the town of Mansoul for 
 about two years and a half : the body of the town was tlie 
 seat of war, the people of the town were driven into holes, 
 and the glory of Mansoul was laid in the dust. What rest, 
 then, could be to the inhabitants, what peace coidd Mansoul 
 have, and what sun could shine upon It? Had the enemy 
 lain so long without in the plain against the town, it had 
 been enough to have famished them : but now, when they 
 shall be within, when the town shall be their tent, their
 
 542 THE EOLY WAS. 
 
 trencli and fort against tlie castle tliat was in tte town ; 
 when tlie town sliall be against the town, and shall serve to 
 be a defence to the enemies of her strength and life : T say, 
 when they shall make use of the forts, and town holds to 
 secure themselves in, even till they shall 
 take, spoil, and demolish the castle, — this 
 was terrible ! and yet this was now the state of the town of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 After the town of Mansoul had been in this sad and 
 lamentable condition for so long a time, as I have told you, 
 and no petitions that they presented their Prince with, all 
 this while, could prevail, the inhabitants of the town, 
 namely, the elders and chief of Mansoul, gathered together, 
 and, after some time spent in condoling their miserable state 
 and this miserable judgment coming upon them, they agreed 
 together to draw up yet another petition, and to send it 
 away to Emmanuel for relief. But Mr Godly-Fear stood up 
 and answered, that he knew that his Lord the Prince never 
 did, nor ever would receive a petition for these matters, 
 from the hand of any whoever, unless the Lord Secretary's 
 hand was to it ; " and this," quoth he, "is the reason that 
 you prevailed not all this while." Then they said they 
 woidd draw up one, and get the Lord Secretary's hand unto 
 it. But Mr Godly- Fear answered again, that he knew also 
 that the Lord Secretary woidd not set his hand to any peti- 
 tion that himself had not an hand in composing and drawing 
 up. "And besides," said he, "the Prince doth know my 
 Lord Secretary's hand from aU the hands in the world; 
 wherefore he cannot be deceived by any pretence whatever. 
 Wherefore my advice is, that you go to my Lord, and im- 
 plore him to lend you his aid," (I^ow he did yet abide in 
 the castle, where all the captains and men-at-arms were.) 
 
 So they heartily thanked Mr Godly-Fear, took his coun- 
 sel, and did as he had bidden them. So they went and came 
 to my Lord, and made known the cause of their coming to 
 him ; namely, that since ^lansoul was in so deplorable a 
 condition, his Highness would be pleased to undertake to
 
 TTTE HOLY WAR. 543 
 
 draw up a petition for them to Emmanuel, the Son of the 
 mighty Shaddai, and to their King and his Father by him. 
 
 Then said the Secretary to them, " What petition is it 
 that you would have me draw up for you ? " But they said, 
 " Our Lord knows best the state and condition of the town 
 of Mansoul ; and how we are backslidden and degenerated 
 from the Prince : thou also knowest who is come up to 
 war against us, and how Mansoul is now the seat of war. 
 My Lord knows, moreover, what barbarous usages our men, 
 women, and children have siiffered at their hands ; and how 
 our homebred Diabolonians do walk now with more boldness 
 than dare the townsmen in the streets of Mansoul. Let our 
 Lord, therefore, according to the wisdom of God that is in 
 him, draw up a petition for his poor servants to our Prince 
 Emmanuel." "Well," said the Lord Secretary, "I will 
 draw up a petition for you, and will also set my hand 
 thereto." Then said they, "But when shall we call for it 
 at the hands of our Lord?" But he answered, "Your- 
 selves must be present at the doing of it ; yea, you must put 
 your desires to it. True, the hand and pen shall be mine, 
 but the ink and paper must be yours ; else how can you say 
 it is your petition ? Nor have I need to petition for myself, 
 because I have not offended." 
 
 He also added as foUoweth: "No petition goes from me 
 in my name to the Prince, and so to his Father by him, but 
 when the people that are chiefly concerned therein do join 
 in heart and soul in the matter, for that must be inserted 
 therein." 
 
 So they did heartily agree with the sentence of the Lord, 
 and a petition was forthwith drawn up for them. But now, 
 who shoidd carry it? that was next. But the Secretary ad- 
 vised that Captain Credence should carry it; for he was a 
 well-spoken man. Thoy therefore called for him, and pro- 
 pounded to him the business. " Well," said the captain, " I 
 gladly accept of the motion; and though I am lame, I will 
 do this business for you, with as much speed, and as weD as 
 I can."
 
 544 THE HOL'v: WAK. 
 
 The contents of the petition were to thifj purpose : — 
 
 " our Lord, and Sovereign Prince Emmanuel, the potent, 
 the long-suftering Prince ! grace is poui-ed into thy lips, and 
 to thee belong mercy and forgiveness, though we have re- 
 belled against thee. We, who are no more worthy to be 
 called thy Mansoul, nor yet fit to partake of common bene- 
 fits, do beseech thee, and thy Father by thee, to do away our 
 transgressions. We confess that thou mightest cast us away 
 for them ; but do it not for thy name's sake : let the Lord 
 i-ather take an opportunity, at our miserable condition, to 
 let out his bowels and compassions to lis. We are compassed 
 on every side, Lord ; our own liackslidings reprove us ; oiir 
 Diabolonians within our town fright us; and the army of the 
 angel of the bottomless pit distresses us. Thy grace can be 
 our salvation, and whither to go but to thee we know not. 
 
 " Furtherusore, gracious Prince, we have weakened our 
 captaing, and they are discouraged, sick, and, of late, some 
 of them grievously worsted and beaten out of the field by 
 the power and force of the tyrant. Yea, even those of our 
 captains, in. whose valour we did formerly use to put most of 
 our confidence, they are as wounded men. Besides, Lord, 
 our enemies are lively, and they are strong; they vaunt and 
 ■fooast themselves, and do threaten to part us among them- 
 selves for a booty. They are fallen also upon us, Lord, with 
 many thousand doubters, such as with whom we cannot tell 
 what to do ; they are all grim-looked and \mmerciful ones, 
 and they bid defiance to us and thee. 
 
 " Our wisdom is gone, our power is gone, because thou art 
 departed from us ; nor have we what we may call ours but 
 sin, shame, and confusion of face for sin. Taks pity upon 
 us, Lord, take pity upon lis, thy miserable town of Man- 
 ijoul, and save us c^:^ of the hands of our enemies. Amen." 
 
 This petition, as wao touched afore, was handed by the 
 Lord Secretary, and carried to the court by the brave and 
 most stout Captain Credence. Now he carried it out at 
 Mouth-gate, (for that, aa I said, was the sally-port of the 
 town,) and he went and came to Emmanuel with it. Kow
 
 THE HOLY WXA. 
 
 545 
 
 now it came out I do not know; but for ceitain it did, and 
 that so far as to reach the eai'S of Diabolus. Thus I con- 
 clude, because that the tyrant had it presently by the end, 
 and charged the town of Mansoid with it, saying, " Thou 
 rebellious and stubborn-hearted Mansoul, I satan cannot 
 wUl make thee to leave off petitionuag. Art *^"^^ prayer, 
 thou yet for petitioning ? I wiU make thee to leave." Yea, 
 he also knew who the messenger was that carried the petition 
 to the Prince, and it made him both to fear and rage. 
 
 Wherefore he commanded that his drum should be beat 
 again, a thing that Mansoul coidd not abide to hear; but 
 when Diabolus will have his drum beat, Mansoid must abide 
 the noise. Well, the drum was beat, and the Diaboloniaus 
 were gathered together. 
 
 Then said Diabolus, " ye stout Diabolonians, be it 
 known unto you that there is treachery hatched against us 
 in the rebellious town of Mansoid; for albeit the town is in 
 our possession, as you see, yet these miserable Mansoulians 
 have attempted to dare, and have been so hardy as yet to 
 send to the court to Emmanuel for help. This I give you to 
 imderstand, that ye may yet know how to carry it to the 
 wretched town of Mansoul. Wherefore, 
 my trusty Diabolonians, I command that 
 yet more and more ye distress this town of jNIansoul, and vex 
 it with your wiles, ravish their women, deflower their vir- 
 gins, slay thsir children, brain their ancients, fire their town, 
 and what other mischief you can; and let this be the reward 
 of the Mansoulians from me, for their desperate rebellions 
 against me." 
 
 This you see was the cliarge ; but something stepped in 
 betwixt that and execution, for as yet there was but little 
 more done than to rage. 
 
 Moreover, when Diabolus had done thus, he went the 
 next way up to the castle gates, and demanded that, upon 
 pain of death, the gates shoidd be opened to him, and that 
 entrance should be given him and his men that followed 
 after. To whom Mr Godly-Fear ro]>licd, (for ho it was tliat 
 
 Poor Mansoul 1 
 
 2 m
 
 516 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 had the charge of that gate, ) that the gate should not be 
 opened unto him, nor to the men that followed after him. 
 He said, moreover, that Mansoul, when she had suffered 
 a while, should be made perfect, strengthened, settled. 
 
 Then said Diabolus, "Deliver me, then, the men that 
 Satan cannot ^i^ve petitioned against me, especially Cap- 
 abide faith. ^jj^jj^ Credence, that carried it to your Prince ; 
 deliver that varlet into my hands, and I will depai't from the 
 town." 
 
 Then up starts a Diabolonian, whose name was Mr Fooling, 
 and said, "My lord offereth you fair: it is better for you 
 that one man perish, than that your whole 
 Mansoul should be undone." 
 
 But ilr Godly-Fear made him this replication, "How long 
 will Mausoid be kept out of the dungeon, when she hath 
 given up her faith to Diabolus ? As good lose the town as 
 lose Captain Credence; for if one be gone, the other miist 
 follow." But to that Mr Foohng said nothing. 
 
 Then did my Lord Mayor I'eply, and said, "0 thou 
 devouring tyrant, be it known unto thee, we shall hearken 
 to none of thy words ; we are resolved to resist thee as long 
 as a captain, a man, a sling, and a stone to throw at thee, 
 shall be found in the town of Mansoul." 
 
 But Diabolvis answered, "Do you hape, do you wait, do 
 you look for helj) and deliverance ? You 
 have sent to Emmanuel, but your wicked- 
 ness sticks too close in your skirts, to let innocent prayers 
 come out of your lips. Think you, that you shall be pre- 
 vailers and prosper in this design? You will fail in your 
 wish, you will fad, in your attempts ; •for it is not only I, but 
 your Emmanuel is against you : yea, it is he that hath sent 
 me against you to subdue you. For what, then, do you 
 hope? or by what means will you escape?" 
 
 Then said the Lord Mayor, "We have sinned indeed; but 
 that shall be no help to thee, for our Emmanuel hath said it, 
 and that in great faithfidness, ' And him that cometh to me 
 I will in no wise caat out.' He hath also told us, oiir
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 5J7 
 
 eneray, tuat *all mauner of sin and blasphemy shall be 
 forgiven ' to the sons of men. Therefore we dare not 
 despair, but will look for, wait for, and hope for deliverance 
 etiU." 
 
 Now, by this time, Captain Credence was returned and 
 come from the court from Emmanuel to the castle of Man- 
 soul, and he returned to them with a i)acket. So my Lord 
 Mayor, hearing that Captain Credence was come, withdrew 
 himseK from the noise of the roaring of the tyrant, and left 
 him to yeU at the wall cf the town, or against the gates of 
 the castle. So he came up to the cajjtain's lodgings, and, 
 saluting him, he asked him of his welfare, and what waa tlio 
 best news at court. But when he asked Captain Credence 
 that, the water stood in his eyes. Then said the caiitaiu, 
 " Cheer up, my lord, for all will be well in time." And with 
 that he first produced his packet, and laid it by; bnt Ihai 
 the Lord Mayor, and the rest of the cap- Asi^n 
 
 tains, took for sign of good tidiugs. Now, of goojneea. 
 a season of grace being come, he sent for all the captains and 
 elders of the town, that were here and there in their lodgixiLS 
 in the castle and upon their guard, to let them know that 
 Captain Credence was returned from the court, and that ho 
 had something in general, and something in special, to co;m- 
 municate to them. So they all came up to him, and saluted 
 him, and asked him concerning his journey, and what waa 
 the best news at the court. And he answered them as ho 
 had done the Lord Mayor before, that all woidd be well ;i4 
 last. Now, Avhen the captain had thus saluted them, ]\.s> 
 opened his packet, and theuce did draw out his several notca 
 for those that he had sent for. 
 
 And the first note was for my Lord Mayor, wherein was 
 signified : — That the Prince Emmauuel had taken it well that 
 my Ixsrd Mayor had been so true and trusty in his office, 
 and the great concerns that lay upon him for the town and 
 people of MansouL Also, he bid him to know, that he took 
 it well that he had been so bold for liia Prince Enimanue-^ 
 and had engaged so faithfully in Lis cues© against Dialjclim.
 
 548 THE HOLY WAE. 
 
 He also signified, at the close of his letter, that he should 
 shoiily receive his reward. 
 
 The second note that came out, was for the noble Lord 
 WillbewLll, wherein there was signified: — That his Priuce 
 Emmanuel did well understand how valiant and courageous 
 he had been for the honour of his Lord, now in his absence, 
 and when his name was under contempt by Diabolus. There 
 was signified also, that his Prince had taken it well that he 
 had been so faithful to the town of Mansoul, in his keepino 
 of so strict a hand and eye over, and so strict a rein upon the 
 neck of the Diabolonians, that did still he lurking in their 
 several holes in the famous town of MansouL He signified, 
 moreover, how that he understood that my Lord had, with 
 his own hand, done great execution upon some of the chief 
 of the rebels there, to the great discouragement of the adverse 
 I)arty, and to the good example of the whole town of Man- 
 soul ; and that shortly his lordship should have his reward- 
 
 The third note came out for the subordinate preacher 
 wherein was signified: — That his Prince took it weU froni 
 him, that he had so honestly and so faithfully performed his 
 office, and executed the trust committed to him by his Lord, 
 while he exhorted, rebuked, and forewarned Mansoul accord- 
 ing to the laws of the town. He signified, moreover, that 
 he took it well at hia hand that he called to fasting, to sack- 
 cloth, and ashes, when Mansoul was under her revolt. Also, 
 that he called for the aid of the Captain Boanerges to help 
 in 80 weighty a work ; and that shortly he also should receive 
 his reward. 
 
 The fourth note came out for Mr Godly-Fear, wherein his 
 Lord thus signified : — That his Lordship observed, that he was 
 first of all the men in Mansoul that detected Mr Carnal-Se- 
 curity as the only one that, through his subtlety and cunning, 
 had obtained for Diabolus a defection and decay of goodness 
 in the blessed town of Mansoul. Moreover, his Lord gave 
 him to understand, that he still remembered his tears and 
 mourning for the state of Mansoul. It was also observed, 
 by the same note, that his Lord took notice of his detecting
 
 THE HOLY Vvl\». 540 
 
 of this Mr Carnal-Security, at his owu table among his guests, 
 in his own house, and that iu the midst of his jolliness, even 
 while he was seeking to perfect his vUlanies against the town 
 of MansouL Emmanuel also took notice, that this reverend 
 person, Mr Godly-Fear, stood stoutly to it, at the gates of 
 the castle, against all the threats and attempts of the tyrant ; 
 and that he had put the townsmen in a way to make their 
 petition to their Prince, so as that he might accept thereof, 
 and as they might obtain an answer of peace ; and that there- 
 fore shortly he shoidd receive his reward. 
 
 After all this, there was yet produced a note which Avas 
 written to the whole town of Mansoul, whereby they per- 
 ceived — That their Lord took notice of their so often rejjcat- 
 inw of petitions to him; and that they should see more of 
 the friiits of such their doings in time to come. Their Prince 
 did also therein tell them, that he took it well, that tlit-ir 
 heart and mind, now at last, abode fixed upon him and his 
 ways, though Diabolus had made such inroads upon them ; 
 and that neither flatteries on the one hand, nor hardships on 
 the other, coiild make them yield to serve his cruel designs. 
 There was also inserted at the bottom of this note — That his 
 Lordship had left the town of Mansoul in the hands of the 
 Lord Secretary, and under the conduct of Captain Credence, 
 saying, "Beware that you yet yield yom-selves unto their 
 governance ; and in due time you shall receive your reward." 
 
 So, after the brave Captain Credence had delivered hia 
 notes to those to whom they belonged, he retired himself to 
 my Lord Secretary's lodgings, and there spends time in con- 
 versing with him ; for they two were very great one with 
 another, and did indeed know more how things would go 
 with Mansoul than did all the townsmen besides. The Lord 
 Secretary also loved the Captain Credence dearly ; yea, many 
 a good bit was sent him from my Lord's table ; also, he 
 might have a show of countenance, when the rest of Mansoul 
 lay under the clouds : so, after some time for converse waa 
 spent, the captain betook himself to his chambers to rest. 
 But it was not long after when ray Lord did Bend for the cap
 
 550 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 tain again ; so tlie captain came to him, and they greeted one 
 another with usual salutations. Then said the captain to the 
 Lord Secretary, "What hath my Lord to say to his servant?" 
 So the Lord Secretary took him and had him aside, and after 
 a sign or two of more favour, he said, "I have made thee 
 the Lord's lieutenant over all the forces in Mansoul ; so that, 
 from this day forward, all men in Mansoul shall be at thy 
 word ; and thou shalt be he that shall lead in, and that shall 
 lead out, Mansoul. Thou shalt therefore manage, according 
 tt) thy place, the war for thy prince, and for the town of 
 Mansoul, against the force and power of Diabolus ; and at thy 
 command shall the rest of the captains be." 
 
 Now the townsmen began to perceive what interest the 
 captain had, both with the court, and also with the Lord 
 Secretary in Mansoul ; for no man before coidd speed when 
 sent, nor bring such good news from Emmanuel as he. 
 Wherefore what do they, after some lamentation that they 
 made no more use of him in their distresses, but send by 
 their subordinate preacher to the Lord Secretary, to desire 
 liim that all that ever they were and had might be put imder 
 the government, care, custody, and conduct of Captain 
 Credence. 
 
 So their preacher went and did his errand, and received 
 this answer from the mouth of his Lord : that Captain 
 Credence should be the great doer in all the King's army, 
 against the King's enemies, and also for the weKare of Man- 
 soul. So he bowed to the groirnd, and thanked his Lordship, 
 and returned and told his news to the toAvnsfolk. But all 
 tliis was done with all imaginable secrecy, because the foes 
 had yet great strength in the town. But to return to our 
 story again. 
 
 When Diabolus saw himself thus boldly confronted by the 
 Lord Mayor, and perceived the stoutness of Mr Godly -Fear, 
 he fell into a rage, and forthwith called a council of war, 
 that he might be revenged on MansouL So all the princes 
 of the pit came together, and old Incredidity at the head of 
 them, with all the captains of his army. So they consult
 
 THE HCL? WAB. 551 
 
 what to do. Now the effect aud conclusion of the council 
 that day vas how they might take the castle, because they 
 could not conclude themselves masters of the town so long 
 as that was in the possession of their enemies. 
 
 So one advised this way, and another advised that; but 
 when they could not agree in their verdict, ApoUyon, that 
 president of the council, stood up, and thus he began : — 
 "My brotherhood," quoth he, "I have two things to pro- 
 pound unto you ; and my first is this. Let us withdraw our- 
 selves from the town into the plain again, for our presence 
 here will do us no good, because the castle is yet in our 
 enemies' hands; nor is it possible that we should take that, 
 so long as so many brave captains are in it, and that this 
 bold fellow, Godly- Fear, is made the keeper of the gates of 
 it. Now, when we have withdrawn ourselves into the plain, 
 they, of their own accord, will be glad of some little ease ; 
 and it may be, of their own accord, they again may begin to 
 be remiss, and even their so being wiU give j^ook to it. 
 them a bi^rger blow than we can possibly Mausoull 
 give them ourselves. But if that should fail, our going 
 forth of the town may draw the captains out after us ; and 
 you know what it cost them when we fought them in the 
 field before. Besides, can we but di-aw them out into the 
 field, we may lay an ambush behind the town, which shall, 
 when they are come forth abroad, rush in and take posses- 
 sion of the castle." 
 
 But Beelzebub stood up, and replied, saying, "It is im- 
 possible to di-aw them all ofT from the castle; some, you 
 may be sure, wiU lie there to keep that; wherefore it will be 
 but in vain thus to attempt, unless we were sure that they 
 will all come out." He therefore concluded that what was 
 done must be done by some other means. And the most 
 likely means that the greatest of their heads could invent, 
 was that which Apollyon had advised to before, namely, to 
 get the townsmen again to sin. "For," said he, "it is not 
 our being in the town, nor in the field, nor our fighting, nor 
 our killing of their men, that can make ua the masters of
 
 552 THB HOLY "VFAB. 
 
 Mansoul; for so long as oue iu the tow-n is able to lift up his 
 
 Xook to it, finger against us, Emmanuel wUl take their 
 
 Mansouil p^rts ; and if he shall take their parts, we 
 
 inow what time of day it wUl be with us. Wherefore, for 
 
 my part," quoth he, "there is, in my judgment, no way to 
 
 bring them into bondage to us, like invent- 
 2 Peter ii. 18-21. . * i xi, • tt i » 
 
 ing a way to make them sm. Had we, 
 
 said he, " left all our douljters at home, we had done as well 
 
 as we have done now, unless we could have made them 
 
 the masters and governors of the castle; for doubters at a 
 
 distance are but like objections refelled with arguments. 
 
 Look to it, Indeed, can we but get them into the hold, 
 MausouU j^^(j make them possessors of that, the day 
 will be our own. Let us, therefore, withdraw ourselves 
 into the plain, (not expecting that the captains in Mansou] 
 shoiJd follow us,) but yet, I say, let us do this, and beforp 
 we so do, let us advise again with our trusty Diabolonians 
 that are yet in their holds of Mansoul, and set them to work 
 to betray the town to us; for they indeed must do it, or it 
 will be left undone for ever." By these sayings of Beelzebub, 
 (for I think it was he that gave this counsel,) the whole con- 
 clave was forced to be of his opinion, namely, that the way 
 to get the castle was to get the town to sin. Then they fell 
 
 Look to it, *o inventing by what means they might do 
 
 Then Lucifer stood up, and said, "The counsel of Beel- 
 zebub is pertinent. Now, the way to bring this to pass, in 
 mine opinion, is this : let us withdraw our force from the 
 town of Mansoul ; let us do this, and let us terrify them no 
 more, either with summons, or threats, or with the noise of 
 our drum, or any other awakening means. Only let us lia 
 in the field at a distance, and be as if we regarded them not; 
 for frights, I see, do but awaken them, and make them more 
 stand to their arms. I have also another stratagem in my 
 head : you know Mansoul is a market-town, and a town 
 that delights in commerce; what therefore, if some of our 
 Diabolonians shall feign themselves far-countrymen, and
 
 THE HOLY WjiB. 553 
 
 Bhall go out and bring to tlie market of Mansoul some ot 
 our waies to sell ; and what matter at what rates they sell 
 their wares, though it be but for half the worth ? Now let 
 those that thus shall trade in their market, be those that are 
 witty and true to lis, and I will lay my crown to pawn, 
 it wUl do. There are tAvo that are come to my thoughts 
 already, that I think will be arch at this work, and they are 
 Mr Penny-wise-i)oimd-foolish, and Mr Get-i'-the-hundred-and- 
 lose-i'-the-shire ; nor is this man with the long name at all 
 inferior to the other. What also if you join with them ^Ii 
 Sweet- world and Mr Present-good; they are men that aro 
 civil and cunning, but our true friends, and 
 helpers. Let these, with as many more, 
 engage in this business for us, and let Mansoul be taken up 
 in much business, and let them grow f idl and rich, and this 
 is the way to get ground of them. Keniember ye not that 
 thus we prevailed upon Laodicea, and how Heart, 
 
 many at present do we hold in this snare ? ^^" '''• ^^* 
 Now, when they begin to grow fidl, they will forget their 
 misery; and if we shall not affright them, they may happen 
 to fall asleej), and so be got to neglect their town watch, 
 their castle watch, as well as their watch at the gates. 
 
 "Yea, may we not, by this means, so ciunber ^Mansoul 
 with abundance, that they shall be forced to make of their 
 castle a warehouse, instead of a garrison fortified against us, 
 and a receptacle for men of war. Thus, if wo got ovir goods 
 and commodities thither, I reckon that the castle is more 
 than half ours. Besides, could we so order it that it shall 
 be filled with such kind of wares, then if we made a sudden 
 assault upon them, it would be hard for the captains to take 
 shelter there. Do you not know that of the parable, ' The 
 deceitfulness of riches choke the word?' Lukeviii. 14; 
 and again, ' When the heart is ovei-charged "'• ^ ^''• 
 with surfeiting and di-unkenness, and the caros of this life,' 
 all mischief comes upon them at unawares ? 
 
 "Furthermore, my lords," quoth he, "you very well 
 know that it is not easy for a people to be lilled with our
 
 654 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 things, and not to have some of oiir Diabolonians as re- 
 tainers to their houses and services. Where is a Mansoulian 
 that is full of this world, that has not for his servants 
 and waiting-men, Mr Profuse, or Mr Prodigahty, or some 
 other of our Diabolonian gang, as Mr Voluptuous, Mr Prag- 
 matical, ]\Ir Ostentation, or the like ? Now these can take 
 the castle of Mansoul, or blow it up, or make it unfit for a 
 Look to it, garrison for Emmanuel, and any of these 
 Mausouii ^ii2 ,Jq_ Yea, these for aught I know, may 
 do it for us sooner than an army of twenty thousand men. 
 Wherefore, to end as I began, my advice is, that we quietly 
 withdraw ourselves, not offering any further force, or forcible 
 attempts upon the castle, at least at this time ; and let us 
 set on foot our new project, and let us see if that wiU not 
 make them destroy themselves." 
 
 This advice was highly applauded by them all, and was 
 accoimted the very masterpiece of hell, namely, to choke 
 Ivlansoul with a fulness of this world, and to surfeit her 
 heart with the good things thereof. But see how things 
 meet together ! Just as this Diabolonian council was broken 
 up, Captain Credence received a letter from Emmanuel, the 
 contents of which were these : That upon the third day he 
 would meet him in the iield in the plains about Mansoul. 
 "Meet me in the field!" quoth the cai)tain ; "what 
 meaneth my Lord by this ? 1 know not what he meaneth by 
 meeting me in the field." So he took the note in his hand, 
 and did carry it to my Lord Secretary, to ask his thoughts 
 thereupon ; for my Lord was a seer in all matters concern- 
 ing the King, and also for the good and comfort of the town 
 of Llansoul. So he shewed my Lord the note, and desired 
 his opinion thereof, " For my part," quoth Captain Cre- 
 dence, " I know not the meaning thereof." So my Lord did 
 take and read it; and, after a little pause, he said, "The 
 Diabolonians have had against Mansoul a great consultation 
 to-day ; they have, I say, this day been contriving the utter 
 ruin of the town j and the result of their counsel is, to set 
 Mansoul into such a way which, if taken, will surely make
 
 THK nCLY WAR. 555 
 
 her destroy herself. And, to this end, they are making 
 ready for their own departure out of the town, intending to 
 betake themselves to the field again, and there to lie till they 
 shall see whether this their project will take or no. But he 
 thou ready with the men of thy Lord, (for on the third day 
 they wiU be in the plain,) there to fall upon the Diabolo- 
 nians ; for the Prince will by that time be in the field ; yea, 
 by that it is break of day, sun-rising, or before, and that 
 with a mighty force against them. So he shall be before 
 them, and thou shalt be behind them, and betwixt you both 
 their army shall be destroyed. 
 
 When Captain Credence heard this, away goes he to the 
 rest of the captains, and tells them what a note he had a 
 while since received from the hand of Emmanuel "And," 
 said he, " that which was dark therein has my Lord the 
 Lord Secretary expounded imto me." He told them, more- 
 over, what by himself and by them must be done to answer 
 the mind of their Lord. Then were the captains glad ; and 
 Captain Credence commanded that all the King's trumpeters 
 should ascend to the battlements of the castle, and there, in 
 the audience of Diabolus and of the whole town of Mansoul, 
 make the best music that heart could invent. The trumpeters 
 then did as they were commanded. They got themselves up 
 to the top of the castle, and thus they began to sound. 
 Then did Diabolus start, and said, "What can be the mean- 
 ing of this ? they neither sound Boot-and-sadtUe, nor Horsc- 
 aod-away, nor a charge. What do these madmen mean, that 
 yet they shoidd be so merry and glad ? " Then answered 
 him one of themselves and said, "This is for joy that their 
 Prince Emmanuel is coming to relieve the town of Mansoid ; 
 that to this end he is at the head of an army, and that thi^ 
 relief is near." 
 
 The men of Mansoul also were greatly concerned at tliis 
 melodious charm of the trumpets : they said, yea, they 
 answered one another, saying, "This can be no harm to us; 
 surely, this can be no harm to us. " Then said the Diabolo- 
 nians, "What had we best to do ? " and it was answered, " It 
 
 i 
 
 J
 
 556 
 
 THE nOLY TVAR. 
 
 was hest to quit the town;" and "tliat," said one, "ye 
 may do in piirsiiance of your last counsel, and by so doing 
 also be better able to give the enemy battle, should an array 
 from without come upon us." So, on the second day, they 
 withdrew themselves from Mansoul, and abode in the plains 
 without ; but they encamped themselves before Eye-gate, in 
 what terrene and terrible manner they could. The reason 
 why they would not abide in the town (besides the reasons 
 that were debated in their late conclave) was, for that they 
 were not possessed of the strong hold, and "because," said 
 they, "we shall have more convenience to fight, and also to 
 fly, if need be, when we are encamped in the open plains. " 
 Besides, the town would have been a pit for them rather 
 than a place of defence, had the Prince come up and en- 
 closed them fast therein. Therefore they betook themselves 
 to the field, that they might also be oixt of the reach of the 
 slings, by which they were much annoyed all the while that 
 they were in the town. 
 
 Well, the time that the captains were to fall upon the 
 Diabolonians being come, they eagerly prepared themselves 
 for action ; for Captain Ci-edence had told the captains over- 
 night, that they should meet their Prince in the field to- 
 Diorrow. This, therefore, made them yet far more desirous 
 to be engaging the enemy; for, " You shall see the Prince 
 in the field to-morrow" was like oil to a flaming fire; for of 
 a long time they had been at a distance : they therefore were 
 for this the more earnest and desirous of the work. So, as 
 I said, the hour being come. Captain Credence, with the rest 
 of the men of war, drew out their forces before it was day 
 by the sally-port of the town. And, being aU ready. Cap- 
 tain Credence went up to the head of the army, and gave to 
 the rest of the captains the word, and so they to their imder- 
 olJicers and soldiers: the word was, "The 
 
 Til 6 woirda 
 
 sword of the I'rince Emmanuel, and the 
 shield of Captain Credence ;" which is, in the Mansoulian tongue, 
 " The Word of God and faith. " Then the captains fell on, and 
 began roimdly to front, and flank, and rear Diabolus's carap. 
 
 I
 
 XHE HOIiY WAii. 557 
 
 Now, they left Captain Experience in the town, because 
 he was yet ill of his wounds, which the Diabolonians had 
 given him in the last fight. But when he perceived that the 
 captains wer«^ at it, what does he but, calling for his crutches 
 with haste, gets up, and away he goes to the battle, saying, 
 " Shall I lie here, when my brethren are in the fight, aud 
 when Emmanuel, the Prince, will shew himself in the field 
 to his servants?" But when the enemy saw the man come 
 with his crutches, they were daunted yet the more; ♦' for," 
 thought they, " what spirit has possessed these Mansoulians, 
 that they fight us upon their crutches ! " Well, the captains, 
 as I said, fell on, and did bravely handle their weapons, still 
 crying out and shouting, as they laid on blows, " The sword 
 of the Prince Emmanuel, and the shield of Captain Ci-e- 
 dence !" 
 
 Now, when Diabolus saw that the captains were come out, 
 and that so valiantly they surrounded his Tiien, he concluded 
 that, for the present, nothing from them was to be looked 
 for but blows, and the dints of their " two-edged sword." 
 
 Wherefore he also falls on upon the Prince's army with all 
 his deadly force : so the battle was joined. Now who was 
 it that at first Diabolus met with in the fight, but Captain 
 Credence on the one hand, and the Lord Willbewill on the 
 other : now Willbewill's blows were like the blows of a giant, 
 for that man had a strong arm, and he fell in upon the elec- 
 tion doubters, for they were the Hfe-giiard of Diabolus, and 
 he kept them in play a good while, cutting and battering 
 shrewdly. Now when Captain Credence saw my lord en- 
 gaged, he did stoutly fall on, on the other hand, ujjon the 
 same company also; so they put them to great disorder. 
 Now Captain Good-IIope had engaged the vocation doubters, 
 and they were sturdy men; but the captain was a valiant 
 man: Captahi Experience did also send him some aid; so he 
 made the vocation doubters to retreat. The rest of the 
 armies were hotly engaged, and that on every side, and the 
 Diabolonians did fight stoutly. Then did my Lord Secretary 
 command that the slings from the castle should be played ;
 
 558 TUB EOLY yy^H 
 
 and liis men could throw stones at an liair'a breadth. But, 
 after a while, those that were made to fly before the captains 
 of the Prince, did begin to rally again, and they came up 
 stoutly upon the rear of the Prince's army : wherefore the 
 Prince's army began to faint; but, remembering that they 
 should see the face of their Prince by and by, they took 
 courage, and a very fierce battle was fought. Then shouted 
 the captains, sajdng, " The sword of the Prince Emmanuel, 
 and the shield of Captain Credence ! " and with that Diabolus 
 gave back, thinking that more aid had been come. But no 
 Emmanael as yet appeared. Moreover, the battle did hang 
 in doubt; and they made a little retreat on both sides. 
 Now, in the time of respite. Captain Credence bravely en- 
 couraged his men to stand to it ; and Diabolus did the like, 
 as well as he could. But Captain Credence made a brave 
 sjieech to his soldiers, the contents whereof here follow: — 
 
 *' Gentlemen soldiers, and my brethren in this design, it 
 rejoiceth me much to see in the field for our Prince, this 
 day, so stout and so valiant an army, and such faithful lovers 
 of Mansoul. You have hitherto, as hath become you, shewn 
 yourselves men of truth and courage against the Diabolonian 
 forces ; so that, for all their boast, they have not yet much 
 cause to boast of their gettings. Now take to yourselves 
 your wonted courage, and shew yourselves men even this 
 once only ; for in a few minutes after the next engagement, 
 this time, you shall see your Prince shew himself in the 
 field ; for we must make this second assault upon this tyrant 
 Diabolus, and then Emmanuel comes." 
 
 No sooner had the captain made this speech to his soldiers, 
 but one Mr Speedy came post to the captain from the Prince, 
 to tell him that Emmanuel was at hand. This news when 
 the captain had received, he communicated to the other field- 
 ofScei's, and they again to their soldiers and men of war. 
 Wherefore, like men raised from the dead, so the captains 
 and their men arose, made up to the enemy, and cried as 
 before, " The sword of the Prince Emmanuel, and the shield 
 of Captain Credence I "
 
 TJTE HOLY WAlt. 559 
 
 The Diaboloniana also bestirred themselves, and made re- 
 sistance as well as they could; but in this last engagement 
 the Diabolonians lost their courage, and many of the doubters 
 fell down dead to the ground. Now, when they had been 
 in the heat of battle about an hour or more. Captain Cre- 
 dence hft up his eyes and saw, and, behold, Emmanuel feame; 
 and he came with colours flying, trumpets sounding, and the 
 feet of his men scarce touched the ground, they hasted with 
 that celerity towards the captains that were engaged. Then 
 did Credence wind with his men to the townward, and gave 
 to Diabolus the field : so Emmanual came upon him on the 
 one side, and the enemies' place was be- "vviien the enemy 
 twixt them both. Then again they fell to [aut'^^tL^ti'^Uowu 
 it afresh; and now it was but a little whde ^^''y'eo. to be sure. 
 more but Emmanuel and Cajjtain Credence met, still tram- 
 pling down the slain as they came. 
 
 But when the captains saw chat the Prince was come, and 
 that he fell upon the Diabolonians on the other side, and 
 that Captain Credence and his Highness had got them up 
 betwixt them, they shouted, (they so shouted that the ground 
 rent again,) saying, " The sword of Emmanuel, and the shield 
 of Captain Credence ! " Now, when Diabolus saw that he 
 and his forces were so hard beset by the Prince and his 
 princely army, what does he, and the lords of the pit that 
 were with him, but make their escape, and forsake their 
 army, and leave them to faU by the hand of Emmanuel, and 
 of his noble Captain Credence : so tlicy fell all down slain 
 before them, before the Prince, and before his royal army ; 
 there was not left so much as one doubter alive ; they lay 
 spread upon the ground dead men, as one would spread dung 
 upon the land. 
 
 When the battle was over, aU things came into order in 
 the camp. Then the captains and elders of MansoiU came 
 together to salute Emmanuel, while withoiit the corporation : 
 so they saluted him, and welcomed him, and that with a 
 thousand welcomes, for that he was to come to the borders 
 of Mansoul again. S*) lie smiled upon them, and said, " Peace
 
 560 THE HOLY WAH. 
 
 be to you," Then they addressed themselves tc go to tha 
 town : they went then to go up to Mansoul, they, the Prince, 
 with all the new forces that now he had brought with him 
 to the war. Also all the gates of the town were set open 
 for his reception, so glad were they of his blessed return. 
 And this was the manner and order of this going of his into 
 Mansoul : — 
 
 First, As I said, all the gates of the town were set open, 
 yea, the gates of the castle also ; the elders, too, of the towj. 
 of Mansciul placed themselves at the gates of the town, to 
 salute him at his entrance thither : and so they did ; for, as 
 he drew near, and approached towards the gates, they said, 
 '* Lift up your heads, ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye 
 everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in." 
 And they answered again, "Who is the King of glory?" 
 and they made return to themselves, " The Lord, strong and 
 mighty ; the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, 
 ye gates ; even lift them up, j'^e everlasting doors," &c. 
 
 Secondly, It was ordered also, by those of Mansoul, that 
 all the way from the town gates to those of the castle, his 
 blessed Majesty should be entertained with the song, by 
 them that had the best skill in music in all the town of Man- 
 Boul : then did the elders, and the rest of the men of Mansoul, 
 answer one another as Emmanuel entered the town, till he 
 came at the castle gates, with songs and sound of trumpets, 
 saj-ing, " They have seen thy goings, God ; even the goings 
 of my God, my King, in the sanctury. So the singers went 
 before, the players on instruments followed after, and among 
 them were the damsels playing on timbrels." 
 
 Thirdlj', Then the captains, (for I would speak a word of 
 them, ) they in their order waited on the Prince, as he entered 
 into the gates of Mansoul. Captain Credence went before, 
 and Cajitain Good-Hope with him ; Captain Charity came 
 behind with other of his companions, and Captain Patience 
 followed after all ; and the rest of the captains, some on the 
 right hand, and some on the left, accompanied Emmanuel 
 into Mansoul. And all the while the colours were display<^«l.
 
 THE HOLT YfAH. 661 
 
 the trumpets sounded, and continual slioutings were among 
 the soldiers. The Prince himself rode into the town iu his 
 armour, which was all of beaten gold, and in his chariot — 
 the pillars of it were of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, 
 the covering of it was of purple, the midst thereof being 
 paved with love for the daughters of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Fourthly, When the Prince was come to the entrance of 
 Mansoul, he found all the streets strewed with lilies and 
 flowers, curiously decked with boughs and branches from the 
 green trees that stood round about the town. Q^y^ ^nd joyful 
 Every door also was filled with persons who thoughts. 
 had adorned every one their fore-part against their house 
 with something of variety and singular excellency, to enter- 
 tain him withal as he passed in the streets ; they also them- 
 selves, as Emmanuel passed by, did welcome him with shouts 
 and acclamations of joy, saying, " Blessed be the Prince that 
 cometh in the name of his Father Shaddai." 
 
 Fifthly, At the castle gates the elders of Mansoul, name- 
 ly, the Lord Mayor, the Lord Willbewill, the subordinate 
 preacher, Mr Knowledge, and Mr Mind, with other of the 
 gentry of the place, saluted Emmanuel again. They bowed 
 before him, they kissed the dust of his feet, they thanked, 
 they blessed, and praised his Highness, for not taking ad- 
 vantage against them for their sins, but rather had pity on 
 them in their misery, and returned to them with mercies, 
 and to build up their Mansoul for ever. Thus was he had 
 up straightway to the castle ; for that was the royal palace, 
 and the place where his honour was to dwell ; the which 
 was ready prepared for his Highness by the presence of the 
 Lord Secretary, and the work of Captain Credence. So ha 
 entered in. 
 
 Sixthly, Then the people and commonalty of the town of 
 Mansoul came to him into the castle to mourn, and to weep, 
 and to lament for their wickedness, by which they had 
 forced him out of the town. So they, when they were 
 come, bowed themselves to the ground seven times; they 
 also wept, they wept aloud, and asked forgiveness of tlie 
 
 •J, ^
 
 663 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Prince, and prayed tliat he would again, as of old, coni3rm 
 his love to Mansonl. 
 
 To the which the great Prince replied, "Weep not, but 
 go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send 
 portions to them for whom nought is prepared ; for the joy 
 of your Lord is your strength. I am returned to Mansoul 
 with mercies, and my name shall be set up, exalted, and 
 magnified by it." He also took these inhabitants, and kissed 
 them, and laid them in his bosom. 
 
 Moreover, he gave to the elders of Mansoul, and to each 
 
 The holy concep- town- officer, a chain of gold and a signet. 
 
 tions of Mansoul. jjg g^jso sent to their wives ear-rings and 
 
 jewels, and bracelets, and other things. He also bestowed 
 
 Young and tender upon the true- born children of Mansoul 
 
 hoi/thoughts. jjja,ny precious things. 
 
 When Emmanuel, the Prince, had done aU these things 
 
 for the famous town of Mansoul, then he said unto them, 
 
 first, "Wash your yarmeuts, then put on 
 Eccles. Ix. 8. .JO 1 
 
 your ornaments, and then come to me into 
 
 the castle of Mansoul." So they went to the fountain that 
 
 Zech. xiii. 1. '^^^ Set open for Judah and Jerusalem to 
 
 Rev. vii. 14, 15. -^.vash in ; and there they washed, and there 
 they made their "garments white," and came again to the 
 Prince into the castle, and thiis they stood before him. 
 
 And now there was music and dancing throughout the 
 whole town of Mansoul, and that because their Prince had 
 again granted to them his presence and the light of his coun- 
 tenance ; the bells also did ring, and the sun shone comfort- 
 ably upon them for a great while together. 
 
 The town of Mansoul did also now more thoroughly seek 
 the destruction and ruin of all remaining Diaboloniaus that 
 abode in the walls, and the dens that they had in the town 
 of Mansoul ; for there was of them that had, to this day, 
 escaped with life and limb from the hand of their suppressors 
 in the famous town of JSIansouL 
 
 But my Lord WUlbewill was a greater terror to them now 
 than ever he had been before ; foi'asmuch as his heait was
 
 THE HOLY WAE. 603 
 
 yet more fuLy bent to seek, contrive, and pursue them to the 
 death ; he jnirsued them night and day, and did put them 
 now to sore distress, as will afterwards appear. 
 
 After things were thus far put into order in the famous 
 town of Mansoul, care was taken, and order given by the 
 blessed Prince Emmanuel, that the to^vnsmen should, with- 
 out further delay, appoint some to go forth into the plain to 
 bury the dead that were there, — the dead that fell by the 
 sword of Emmanuel, and by the shield of the Captain Cre- 
 dence, — lest the fumes and ill savours that woidd arise from 
 them might infect the air, and so annoy the famous town of 
 MansouL This also was a reason of this order, namely, 
 that, as much as in Mansoid lay, they might cut off the 
 name, and being, and remembrance of those enemies from 
 the thought of the famous town of Mansoul and its inha- 
 bitants. 
 
 So order was given out by che Lord ^Mayor, that wise and 
 trusty friend of the town of Mansoid, that persons should be 
 employed about this necessary business : and Mr Godly-Fear, 
 and one Mr Upright, were to be overseers about this matter : 
 so persons were put under them to work in the fields, and 
 to bury the slain that lay dead in the plains. And these 
 were their places of emjiloyment : some were to make the 
 graves, some to bury the dead, and some were to go to and 
 fro in the plains, and also round about the borders of Man- 
 soid, to see if a skull, or a bone, or a piece of a bone of a 
 doubter, was yet to be found above groimd anywhere near 
 the corporation ; and if any were found, it was ordered that 
 the searchers that searched, should set up a mark therel)y, 
 and a sign, that those that were appointed to bury them 
 might find it, and bury it out of sight, that the name and 
 remembrance of a Diabolonian doubter might be blotted out 
 from imder heaven ; and that the children, and they that 
 were to be born in Mansoul, might not know, if possible, 
 what a skull, what a bone, or a piece of a bone of a doubter 
 wa.s. So the buriers, and those that were api)ointed for that 
 purpose, did as they Avere commanded : they buried th^
 
 5G4 THE nOLY WAR. 
 
 doubters, and all the skuUs and bones, and pieces of bones of 
 doubters, wherever tliey found tbem ; and so tbey cleansed 
 the jjlaiiis. Now also Mr God's-Peace took up his commis- 
 sion, and acted again as in former days. 
 
 Thus they buried in the plains about Mansoul the election 
 doubters, the vocation doubters, the grace doubters, the per- 
 severance doubters, the resurrection doubters, the salvation 
 doubters, and the glory doubters ; whose captains were Cap- 
 tain Eage, Captain Cruel, Captain Damnation, Captain In- 
 satiable, Captain Brimstone, Captain Torment, Captain No- 
 Ease, Captain Sepulchre, and Captain Past- Hope ; and old 
 Incredulity was, under Diabolu^, their general. There were 
 also the seven heads of their army ; and they were the Lord 
 Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord 
 Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord 
 Belial. But the princes and the captains, with old Incre- 
 dulity, their general, did all of them make their escape : so 
 their men fell down slain by the power of the Prince's forces, 
 and by the hands of the men of the town of Mansoid. They 
 also were buried as is afore related, to the exceeding great 
 joy of the now famous town of Mansoul. They that buried 
 them buried also with them their arms, which were cruel 
 instruments of death : (their weapons were arrows, darts, 
 maids, firebrands, and the like.) They buried also their 
 armour, their colours, banners, with the standard of Dia- 
 bolus, and what else soever they could find that did but 
 smell of a Diabolonian doubter. 
 
 Now when the tyrant had arrived at Hell-Gate Hill, with 
 his old friend Incredidity, they immediately descended the 
 den, and having there with their fellows for a while condoled 
 their misfortune and great loss that they sustained against 
 the town of Mansoul, they fell at length into a passion, and 
 revenged they would be for the loss that they sustained 
 before the town of Mansoul. Wherefore they presently call 
 a council to contrive yet further what was to be done against 
 the famous town of Mansoul ; for their yawning paunches 
 could not wait to see the result of their Lord Lucifer's and 
 
 I
 
 TUE HOLY WAR. 565 
 
 their Lord Apollyon's counsel that they had given before ; 
 for their raging gorge thought every day, even as long as a 
 short for ever, until they were filled with the body and soul, 
 with the flesh and bones, and with all the delicates of Man- 
 soul. They therefore resolve to make another attempt upon 
 the town of Mansoul, and that by an army mixed and made 
 up partly of doubters, and partly of blood-men, A more 
 particular account now take of both. 
 
 The doubters are such as have their name from their nature, 
 as well as from the land and kingdom where they are born : 
 their nature is to put a question upon every one of the truths 
 of Emmanuel ; and their country is called the land of Doubt- 
 ing, and that land lieth off, and furthest remote to the north, 
 between the land of Darkness and that called "the valley of 
 the shadow of death." For though the land of Darkness, 
 and that called " the valley of the shadow of death," be 
 sometimes called as if they were one and the self-same place, 
 yet indeed they are two, lying but a little way asunder, and 
 the land of Doubting points in, and lieth between them. 
 This is the land of Doubting ; and these that came with 
 Diabolus to ruia the town of Mansoul are the natives of that 
 country. 
 
 The blood-men are a people that have their name derived 
 from the malignity of their nature, and from the fury that is 
 in them to execute it iipon the town of Mansoul : their land 
 lieth under the dog-star, and by that they are governed as to 
 their intellectuals. The name of their country is the province 
 of Loath-good : the remote parts of it are far distant from 
 the land of Doubting, yet they do both butt and bound upon 
 the hill called Hell-Gate Hill. These people are always in 
 league with the doubters, for they jointly do make question 
 of the faith and fidelity of the men of the town of ISIausoul, 
 and so are both alike qualified for the service of their prince. 
 
 Now of these two countries did Diabolus, by the beating 
 of his drum, raise another army against the toAvn of Mansoul, 
 of five-and-twenty thousand strong. There were ten thousand 
 doubters, and fifteen thousand blood-men, and they were put
 
 666 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 iinder several captains for the war; and old Incredulity was 
 again made general of tlie army. 
 
 As for tlie doubters, their captains were five of the seven 
 that were heads of the last Diabolonian army, and these are 
 theii' names : Captain Beelzebub, Captain Lucifer, Captain 
 Apollyon, Captain Legion, and Captain Cerberus; and the 
 captains that they had before were some of them made lieu- 
 tenants, and some ensigns of the army. 
 
 But Diabolus did not count that, in this expedition of his, 
 these doubters would prove his principal men, for their man- 
 hood had been tried before; also the Mansoulians had put 
 them to the worst : only he did bring them to multiply a 
 number, and to help, if need was, at a pinch. But his trust 
 he put in his blood-men, for that they were all rugged villains, 
 and he knew that they had done feats heretofore. 
 
 As for the blood-men, they also were under command; 
 and the names of their captains were, Cajjtain Cain, Captain 
 Nimrod, Captain Ishmael, Captain Esau, Captain Said, Cap- 
 tain Absalom, Captain Judas, and Captain Pope. 
 
 1. Captain Cain was over two bands, namely, the zealous 
 
 and the angr}' blood-men : his standard-bearer bare the red 
 
 colours, and his scutcheon was the mur- 
 Gen. iv. 3. , . . . 
 
 dering club. 
 
 2. Caj>tain Nimrod was captain over two bands, namely, 
 
 the tyrannical and encroaching blood-men : 
 his standard-bearer bare the red colours, 
 and his scutcheon was the great blood-hound. 
 
 3. Captain Ishmael was captain over two bands, namely, 
 
 the mocking and scorning blood-men: his 
 standard-bearer bare the red colours, and 
 his scutcheon was one mocking at Abraham's Isaac. 
 
 4. Captain Esau was captain over two bands, namely, the 
 
 blood-men that grudged that another shoidd 
 
 have the blessing; also over the blood-men 
 
 that are for executing their private revenge upon others : his 
 
 standard-bearer bare the red colom-s, and his scutcheon was 
 
 one privately lurking to murder Jacob.
 
 THJC HOLY WAK. 5G1 
 
 5. Captain Saul was captain over two bands, namely, 
 tlie groundlessly jealous and the devilishly i gam. xTiii. lo 
 furious blood-men : his standard-bearer bare ^'^" ^^' ^^- ^^• 
 the red colours, and his scutcheon was three bloody darta 
 cast at harmless David. 
 
 6. Caj)tain Absalom was captain over two bands, namely, 
 over the blood-men that will kill a father or 2 Sam. xv. xvi. 
 
 a friend for the glory of this world ; also ^^"• 
 
 over those blood-men that wiD hold one fair in hand with 
 words, tQl they shall have pierced him with their eworda : 
 his standard-bearer did bear the red colours, and his scut- 
 cheon was the son pursuing the father's blood. 
 
 7. Captain Judas was over two bands, namely, the blood- 
 men that will sell a man's life for money, natt. xxvi. 14-I6, 
 and those also that wiU betray their friend *^- 
 
 with a kiss : his standard-bearer Lare the red colours, and 
 his scutcheon was thirty pieces of sQver and the halter. 
 
 8. Captain Pope was captain over one baud, for all these 
 spirits are joined in one under him: his Rev. riii. 7. 8. 
 standard-bearer bare the red colours, and Dau- "-33. 
 his scutcheon was the stake, the flame, and the good man in it. 
 
 Now, the reason why Diabolus did so soon rally another 
 force, after he had been beaten out of the field, was, for that 
 he put mighty confidence Ln this army of blood-men; for he 
 put a great deal of more trust in them than he did before in 
 his army of doubters ; though they had also often done great 
 service for him in the strengthening of him in his kingdom. 
 But these blood-men, he had proved them often, and their 
 sword did seldom return empty. Besides, he knew that 
 these, like mastiffs, would fasten upon any ; upon father, 
 mother, brother, sister, prince, or governor, yea, upon the 
 Prince of princes. And that which encouraged him the more 
 was, for that they once did force Emmanuel out of the king- 
 dom of Universe; "And why," thought he, " may they not 
 also drive him from the town of Mansoul ?" 
 
 So this army of fiveand-twenty thousand strong was, by 
 their general, the great Lord Incrcdidity, led up against the
 
 668 
 
 THE HOLY WAB, 
 
 town of MansouL Now Mr Prywel], the scoutmaster-general, 
 did himself go out to spy, and lie did bring Mansoul tidinga 
 of their coming. Wherefore they shut up their gates, and 
 put themselves in a posture of defence against these new 
 Diabolonians that came up against the town. 
 
 So Diabolus brought up his army, and beleaguered the 
 town of Mansoul ; the doubters were placed about Feel-gate, 
 and the blood-men set down before Eye-gate and Ear-gate. 
 
 Now when this army had thus encamped themselves. 
 Incredulity did, in the name of Diabolus, his own name, 
 and in the name of the blood-men and the rest that were 
 with him, send a summons as hot as a red-hot iron to Man- 
 soid, to yield to their demands ; threatening, that if they still 
 stood it out against them, they would presently burn down 
 Mansoul with fire. For you must know that, as for the 
 blood-men, they were not so much that Mansoiil should be 
 surrendered, as that Mansoul should be destroyed, and cut 
 olT out of the land of the living. True, they send to them to 
 aurrender; but shoidd they so do, that would not stanch or 
 quench the thirsts of these men. They must have blood, the 
 blood of Mansoul, else they die; and it is from hence that 
 Isaiah 111. T. they have their name. Wherefore these 
 Jer. nil. 17. blood-men he rese^^'ed while now that they 
 might, when all his engines proved ineffectual, as his last and 
 sure card be played against the town of MansouL 
 
 Now, when the townsmen had received this red-hot sum- 
 mons, it begat in them at present some changing and inter- 
 changing thoughts ; but they jointly agreed, in less than 
 half an hour, to carry the summons to the 
 Prince, the which they did when they had 
 writ at the bottom of it, "Lord, save Mansoul from bloody 
 men I" 
 
 So he took it, and looked upon it, and considered it, and 
 took notice also of that short petition that the men of Man- 
 BoiU had written at the bottom of it, and called to him the 
 noble Captain Credence, and bid him go and take Captain 
 Patience with him, and go and take care of that side of Man- 
 
 Fsalm llx. 3.
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 569 
 
 9oul that was beleaguered by the blood-men. So they went 
 
 and did as they were commanded : the 
 
 , . Heb. Ti. 12, 15. 
 
 Captain Credence went and took Captam 
 
 Patience, and they both secured that side of Manfsoul that 
 
 was besieged by the blood-men. 
 
 Theu he commanded that Captain Good-Hope and Cap- 
 tain Charity, and my Lord Willbewill, should take charge 
 of the other side of the town. *'And I," said the Prince, 
 "will set my standard upon the battlements of your castle, 
 and do you three watch against the doubters." This done, 
 he again commanded that the brave captain, the Captain 
 Experience, should draw up his men in the market-place, 
 and that there he should exercise them day by day before 
 the people of the town of Mansoul. Now this siege was 
 long, and many a fierce attempt did the enemy, especially 
 those called the blood-men, make upon the town of Mansoul ; 
 and many a shrewd brush did some of the townsmen meet 
 with from them, especially Captain Self-Denial, who, I 
 should have told you before, was commanded to take the 
 care of Ear-gate and Eye-gate now against the blood-men. 
 Tliis Captain Solf-Denial was a young man, but stout, and a 
 townsman in Mansoul, as Captain Experience also was. 
 And Emmanuel, at his second return to Mansoul, made him 
 a captain over a thousand of the Mansoidians, for the good 
 of the corporation. This captain, therefore, being a hardy 
 man, and a man of great courage, and willing to venture 
 himself for the good of the town of Mansoul, would now and 
 then sally out upon the blood-men, and give them many 
 notable alarms, and entered several brisk skirmishes with 
 them, and also did some execution upon them ; but you must 
 think that this could not easily be done, but he must meet 
 with brushes himself, for he carried several of their marks 
 in his face ; yea, and some in other parts of his body. 
 
 So, after some time sjient for the trial of the faith, and 
 hope, and love of the town of Mansoul, the Prince Em' 
 manuel upon a day calls his captains and men of war to- 
 gether, and divides them into two companies ; this done, b^
 
 570 
 
 Tflt HOLf WAR. 
 
 commands them at a time appointed, and tLat in the morn- 
 ing very early, to sally out upon the enemy, saying, "Let 
 haK of you fall upon the doubters, and half of you fall upon 
 the blood-men. Those of you that go out against the 
 doubters, kill and slay, and cause to perish so many of them 
 as by any means you can lay hands on ; but for you that go 
 out against the blood-men, slay them not, but take them 
 alive." 
 
 So, at the time appointed, betimes in the morning, the 
 captains went out as they were commanded against the 
 enemies. Captain Good-Hope, Captain Charity, and those 
 that were joined with them, as Captain Innocent and Cap- 
 tain Experience, went out against the doubters ; and Cap- 
 tain Credence, and Captain Patience, with Captain SeK- 
 Denial, and the rest that were to join with them, went out 
 against the blood-men. 
 
 Now, those that went out against the doxibters drew up 
 
 into a body before the plain, and marched on to bid them 
 
 battle. But the doubters, remembering their last success, 
 
 made a retreat, not daring to stand the shock, but fled from 
 
 the Prince's men; wherefore they pursued them, and in 
 
 their pursuit slew many, but they could not catch them aU. 
 
 Now those that escaped went some of them home ; and the 
 
 rest by fives, nines, and seventeens, like wanderers, went 
 
 straggling up and down the country, where they upon the 
 
 barbarous people shewed and exercised many of their Diabolo- 
 
 nian actions : nor did these people rise up in arms against 
 
 _, . ,. them, but suffered themselves to be enslaved 
 
 The nnoeliever 
 
 never fighta the by them. They would also after this shew 
 doubter. . "^ . , . 
 
 themselves in companies before the town of 
 
 Llansoul, but never to abide in it ; for if Captain Credence, 
 
 Captain Good-Hope, or Captain Experience did but shew 
 
 themselves, they fled. 
 
 Those that went out against the blood-men did as they 
 
 were commanded : they forbore to slay any, but sought to 
 
 compass them about. But the blood-men, when they saw 
 
 that no Emmanuel was in the field, concluded also that no
 
 THE EOLY WAR. 571 
 
 Emmanuel was in Mansoul : wherefore they, lookhig upon 
 •what the captains did to be, as they called it, a fruit of the 
 extravagancy of their wild and foolish fancies, rather de- 
 spised them than feared them. But the captains, minding 
 their business, at last did compass them round; they also 
 that had routed the doubters came in amain to their aid ; 
 so, in fine, after some little struggling, (for the blood-men 
 also wordd have run for it, only now it was too late ; for 
 though they are mischievous and cruel, where they can over- 
 come, yet aU blood-men are chicken-hearted men, when they 
 once come to see themselves matched and equalled,) — so the 
 captains took them, and brought them to the Prince. 
 
 Now when they were taken, had before the Prince, and 
 examined, he found them to be of three several counties, 
 though they all came out of one land. 
 
 1. One sort of them came out of Bliud-man-shire, and they 
 were such as did ignorantly what they did. 
 
 2. Another sort of them came out of Blind-zeal-shire, and 
 they did superstitiously what they did. 
 
 3. The third sort of them came out of the town of Malice, 
 in the county of Envy, and they did what i Tim. i. 1315; 
 they did out of spite and implacableness. vi.''22/joiiii' xvi" i. 
 
 For the first of these, namely, they that f'.'^Sl^Vl^tohu^vtu: 
 came out of Blind-man-shire, when they *"■ ^"*3, &c. 
 saw where they were, and against whom they had fought, 
 they trembled and cried, as they stood before him ; and as 
 many of these as asked him mercy, he touched their lips 
 with his golden sceptre. 
 
 They that came out of Blind-zealshire, they did not as 
 their fellows did ; for they pleaded that they liad a right to 
 do what they did, because Mansoid was a town whose laws 
 and customs were diverse from aU that dwelt thereabouts. 
 Very few of these could be brought to see tlicir cWl; but 
 those that did, and asked mercy, tliey also obtained favour. 
 
 Now, they that came out of the town of Malice, that is in 
 the county of Envy, they neither wept, nor disputed, nor 
 repented, but stood gnawing their tongues before him for
 
 572 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 anguish and madness, because they could not have their will 
 upon MansoiiL Now these last, with aU those of the other 
 two sorts that did not unfeignedly ask pardon for their 
 faults, — those he made to enter into sufficient bond to an- 
 swer for what they had done against Mansoul, and against 
 The (Jay of ^^^ King, at the great and general assizes 
 judgmeut. t(j be holden for our Lord the King, where 
 he himself should appoint for the country and kingdom of 
 Universe. So they became bound each man for himself, to 
 come in, when called upon, to answer before our Lord the 
 King for what they had done as before. 
 
 And thus much concerning this second army that was sent 
 by Diabolus to overthrow Mansoul. 
 
 But there were three of those that came from the land of 
 Doubting, who, after they had wandered and ranged the 
 country a while, and perceived that they had escaped, were 
 BO hardy as to thrust themselves, knowing that yet there 
 were in the town Diabolonians, — I say, they were so hardy 
 as to thrust themselves into Mansoul among them. (Three, 
 did I say ? I think there were four. ) Now, to whose house 
 should these Diabolonian doubters go, but to the house of an 
 old Diabolonian in Mansoul, whose name was Evil-Question- 
 ing, a very great enemy he was to Mansoul, and a great 
 doer among the Diabolonians there. Well, to this Evil- 
 Questioning's hoiise, as was said, did these Diabolonians 
 come; (you may be sure that they had directions how to 
 find the way thither;) so he made them welcome, pitied 
 their misfortune, and succoured them with the best that he 
 had in his house. Now, after a little acquaintance, (and it 
 was not long before they had that,) this old Evil-Questioning 
 asked the doubters if they were all of a town ; (he knew that 
 they were aU of one kingdom;) and they answered, "No, 
 nor not of one shire neither ; for I," said one, " am an election 
 doubter:" "I," said another, "am a vocation doubter:" 
 then said the third> "I ^■m a salvation doubter : " and the 
 fourth said he was a grace doubter. " Well," quoth the old 
 gentleman, " be of wliat ahire you will, I am persuaded that
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 573 
 
 ymi are down boys : you have the very length of my foot, 
 are one with my heart, and shall be welcome to me." So 
 they thanked him, and were glad that they had found them- 
 selves an harbour in Mansoul. 
 
 Then said Evil-Questiouing to them, * ' How many of your 
 company might there be that came with you to the siege of 
 Mansoul ? " And they answered, "There were but ten thou- 
 sand doubters in all, for the rest of the army consisted of 
 fifteen thousand blood-men. These blood-men," quoth they, 
 "border upon our country; but, poor men ! as we hear, they 
 were every one taken by Emmanuel's forces." "Ten thou- 
 sand ! " quoth the old gentleman : "I will promise you, that 
 is a round company. But how came it to pass, since you 
 were so mighty a number, that you fainted, and durst not 
 fight your foes ? " "Our general," said they, " was the first 
 man that did run for it." " Pray," quoth their landlord, 
 "who was that, your cowardly general?" "He was once 
 the Lord Mayor of Mansoul," said they : " but pray call him 
 not a cowardly general ; for whether any from the east to 
 the west has done more service for our prince Diabolus, than 
 has my Lord Incredulity, will be a hard question for you to 
 answer. But had they catched him, they would for certain 
 have hanged him; and we promise you, hanging is but a bad 
 business." Then said the old gentleman, "I would that aU 
 the ten thousand doubters were now well armed in Mansoul, 
 and myself at the head of them ; I would see what I could 
 do." "Ay," said they, " that would be well if we could see 
 that; but wishes, alas! what are they!" and these words 
 were spoken aloud. "Well," said old Evil-Questioning, 
 "take heed that you talk not too loud; you must be quat 
 and close, and must take care of yourselves while you are 
 here, or, I will assure you, you will be snapped." " WTiy?" 
 quoth the doubters, "Why!" quoth the old gentleman; 
 "why! because both the Prince and Lord Secretary, and 
 their captains and soldiers, are all at present in town; 
 yea, the town is as full of them as ever it can hold. And 
 besidea there is one whose name is WiUl^ewill, a mowt cruel
 
 <>74 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 enemy of ours, and him the Prince has made keeper of the 
 gates, and has commanded him that, with all the diligence 
 he can, he should look for, search out, and destroy all, and 
 all manner of Diabolonians. And if he lighteth upon you, 
 down you go, though your heads were made of gold." 
 
 And now, to see how it happened, one of the Lord Will- 
 bewill's faithful soldiers, whose name was Mr Ddigence, 
 stood all this while listening under old EvU-Questioning's 
 eaves, and heard aU the talk that had been betwixt him and 
 the doubters that he entertained imder his roof. 
 
 The soldier was a man that my Lord had much confidence 
 in, and that he loved dearly ; and that both because he was 
 a man of courage, and also a man that was unwearied in 
 seeking after Diabolonians to apprehend them. 
 
 Now this man, as I told you, heard all the talk that was 
 between old Evil- Questionmg and these Diabolonians ; where- 
 fore what does he but goes to his lord, and tells him what 
 he had heard. "And sayest thou so, my trusty ?" quoth my 
 lord. "Ay," quoth Diligence, "that I do; and if your 
 lordship will be pleased to go with me, you shall find it as I 
 have said." "And are they there?" quoth my lord. "I 
 know Evil-Questioning well, for he and I were great in the 
 time of our apostacy : but I know not now where he dwells." 
 " But I do," said his man, " and if your lordship will go, I 
 will lead you the way to his den." "Go!" quoth my lord, 
 " that I will. Come, my Diligence, let us go find them out." 
 
 So my lord and his man went together the direct way to 
 his house. Now his man went before to shew him his way, 
 and they went till they came even under old Mr Evil-Ques- 
 tioning's Avail. Then said Diligence, "Hark! my lord, do 
 you know the old gentleman's tongue w^en you hear it?" 
 •' Yes," said my lord, "I know it well, but I have not seen 
 him many a day. This I know, he is cunning ; I wish he 
 doth not give us the slip." "Let me alone for that," said 
 his servant Dilifcence, "But how shall we find the doorT' 
 qnoth my lord. " Let me alone for that, too," said his man. 
 So he had my Loid Willbewill about, and shewed him the
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 575 
 
 way to the door. Then my lord, without more ado, broke 
 oxien the door, rushed into the house, and caught them all 
 five together, even as Diligence his man had told him. So 
 my lord ajiprehended them, and led them away, and com- 
 mitted them to the hand of Mr Trueman, the gaoler, and 
 commanded, and he did put them in ward. This done, my 
 Lord Mayor was acquainted in the morning with what my 
 Lord Willbewill had done over-niglit, and his lordship re- 
 joiced much at the news, aot only because there were 
 doubters apjjrehended, but because that old Evil-Question- 
 ing was taken; for he had been a very great trouble to 
 Mansoul, and much affliction to my Lord Mayor himself. 
 He had also been sought for often, but no hand could ever 
 be laid upon him till now. 
 
 Well, the next thing was to make preparation to try 
 these live that by my Lord had been ajiiirehended, and that 
 were in the hands of Mr Trueman, the gaoler. So the 
 day was set, and the court called and come together, and 
 the prisoners brought to the bar. My Lord Willbewill had 
 power to have slain them when at first he took them, and 
 that without any more ado; but he thought it at this time 
 more for the honour of the Prince, the comfort of Mansoul, 
 and the discouragement of the enemy, to bring them forth 
 to public judgment. 
 
 But, I say, Mr Trueman brought them in chains to the 
 bar, to the town-hall, for that was the place of judgment. 
 So, to be short, the jury was panelled, the witnesses sworn, 
 and the i>risouers tried for their fives: the jury was the 
 same that tried Mr No-Truth, Pitiless, Haughty, and the 
 rest of their companions. 
 
 And, first, old Questioning himself was set to the bar; 
 tor he was the receiver, the entertainer, and comforter of 
 these doubters, that by nation were outlandish men : then 
 he was bid to hearken to his charge, and was told that he 
 had hberty to object, if he had aught to say for himself. 
 So his indictment was read: the manner and form here
 
 576 "raE UOLY TTAR. 
 
 " Mr Questioning — Thou art here indicted by the name of 
 Evil- Questioning, an intruder upon the town of MansouJ, 
 for that thou art a Diabolonian by nature, and also a hater 
 of the Prince Emmanuel, and one that has studied the ruin 
 of the town of Mansoul. Thou art also here indicted for 
 countenancing the King's enemies, after wholesome laws 
 made to the contrary : for, 1 . Thou hast questioned the 
 truth of her doctrine and state : 2. In wishing that ten 
 thousand doubters were in her: 3. In receiving, in enter- 
 taining, and encouraging of her enemies, that came from 
 their army unto thee. What sayest thou to this indict- 
 ment — art thou guilty or not guilty ? " 
 
 " My lord," quoth he, "I know not the meaning of this 
 indictment, forasmuch as I am not the man concerned in it; 
 the man that standeth by this charge accused before this 
 bench is called by the name of Evil-Questioning, which 
 name I deny to be mine, mine being Honest-Inquiry. The 
 one indeed sounds like the other; but, I trow, your lord- 
 ships know that between these two there is a wide differ- 
 ence ; for I hope that a man even in the worst of times, and 
 that, too, amongst the worst of men, may make an honest 
 inquiry after things, without running the danger of death." 
 
 Then spake my Lord Willbewill, for he was one of the 
 witnesses: " My Lord, and you the honourable bench and 
 magistrates of the town of Mansoul, you all have heard with 
 your ears that the prisoner at the bar has denied his name, 
 amd so thinks to shift from the charge of the indictment. 
 But I know him to be the man concerned, and that his 
 proper name is E\dl-Questioning. I have known him, my 
 lord, above these thirty years, for he and I (a shame it is 
 for me to speak it) were great acquaintance, when Diabolus, 
 that tyrant, had the government of Mansoul; and I testify 
 that he is a Diabolonian by nature, an enemy to our Prince, 
 and a hater of the blessed town of MansouL He has, in 
 times of rebellion, been at and lain in my house, my lord. 
 not so little as twenty nights together, and we did use to 
 talk then, for the sabsrtance of talk, as he and his doubten
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 577 
 
 have talked of late : true, I have not seen him many a day. 
 1 suppose tliat the coming of Emmanuel to Mansoul has 
 made him change his lodgings, as this indictment has driven 
 him to change his name; but this is the man, my lord." 
 
 Then said the court v;nto him, ' ' Hast tliou any more to say ? " 
 
 "Yes," quoth the old gentleman, "that I have; for all 
 that as yet has been said tgainst me, is but by the mouth of 
 one witness 5 and it is not 'awful for the famous town of Man- 
 soul, at the mouth of one \ ritness, to put any man to death." 
 
 Then stood forth Mr Di'igence, and said, "My lord, as I 
 was upon my watch such a night at the head of Bad Street, 
 in this town, I chanced to hear a muttering within this gen- 
 tleman's hoiise. Then, thought I, what is to do here? So 
 I went up close, but very softly, to the side of the house to 
 listen, thinking, as indeed it fell out, that there I might 
 light upon some Diabolonian conventicle. So, as I said, I 
 drew nearer and nearer ; and when I was got up close to the 
 wall, it was but a while before I perceived that there were 
 outlandish men in the house ; but I did well understand 
 their speech, for I have been a traveller myself. Now, hear- 
 ing such language in such a tottering cottage as this old 
 gentleman dwelt in, I clapped mine ear to a hole in the 
 window, and there heard them talk as followeth. This old 
 Mr Questioning asked these doubters what they were, whence 
 they came, and what was their business in these p.-irts ; and 
 they told him to all these questions, yet he did entertain 
 them. He also asked what numbers there were of them ; 
 and they told him ten thousand men. He then asked them 
 why they made no more manly assault njion Mansoul ; and 
 they told him : so he called their general coward, for march- 
 ing off when he should have fought for his prince. Further, 
 this old Evil-Questioning wished, and I heard him wish, 
 would all the ten thousand doubters were now in Mansotil, 
 and himself at the head of them. He bid them also to take 
 heed and he quat ; for if they were taken, they must die, 
 although they had heads of gold." 
 
 Then said the court :— " Mr E\'il Questioning, here is now 
 
 2 u
 
 578 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 another witness against yoii, and his testimony is full : — 1. 
 He swears that you did receive these men into your house, 
 and that you did nourish them there, though you knew that 
 they were Diabolonians, and the King's enemies. 2, He 
 swears that you did wish ten thousand of them in Mausoul. 
 3. He swears that you did give them advice to be quat and 
 close, lest they were taken by the King's servants. All 
 which manifesteth that thou art a Diabolonian ; but hadst 
 thou been a friend to the King, thou wouldst have appre- 
 hended them." 
 
 Then said Evil-Questioning: — "To the first of these I 
 answer. The men that came into mine house were strangers, 
 and I took them in ; and is it now become a crime in Man- 
 soul for a man to entertain strangers? That I did also 
 nourish them is true ; and why should my charity be blamed ? 
 As for the reason why I wished ten thousand of them in 
 Mansoul, I never told it to the witnesses, nor to themselves. 
 I might wish them to be taken, and so my vrish might mean 
 well to Mansoul, for aught that any yet knows. I did also 
 bid them take heed that they fell not into the captain's 
 hands ; but that might be because I am unwilling that any 
 man should be slain, and not because I would have the 
 King's enemies as such escape." 
 
 My Lord Mayor then replied: — "That though it was a 
 virtue to entertain strangers, yet it was treason to entertain 
 the King's enemies. And for what else thou hast said, thou 
 dost by words but labour to evade and defer the execution 
 of judgment. But could there be no more proved against 
 thee but that thou art a Diabolonian, thou must for that die 
 the death by the law ; but to be a receiver, a nourisher, a 
 countenancer, and a harbourer of others of them, yea, of out- 
 landish Dial)oloniaus, yea, of them that came from far on 
 purpose to cut oflf and destroy our Mansoul — this muat not 
 be borne." 
 
 Then said Evil-Questioning: — "I see how the game will 
 go ; I must die for my name, and for my charity." And *o 
 he held liis peace.
 
 TBE HOLY WAR. 
 
 579 
 
 Then they called the outlandish doubters to the bar, and 
 the first of them that was arraigned was the election doubter. 
 So his indictment was read ; and becaiise he was an outland- 
 ish man, the substance of it was told him by an interpreter ; 
 namely, "That he was there charged with being an enemy 
 of Emmanuel the Prince, a hater of the town of Mausoid, 
 and an opposer of her most wholesome doctrine." 
 
 Then the judge asked him if he would plead? but he said 
 only this — That he confessed that he was an election doubter, 
 and that that was the religion that he had ever been brout^ht 
 up in. And said, moreover, "If I must die for my rehgiun, 
 I trow I shall die a martyr, and so I care the less." 
 
 Judrje. Then it was replied : — "To question election, is to 
 overthrow a great doctrine of the gospel, namely, the omni- 
 sciency, and power, and wiU of God ; to take away tlie 
 Hberty of God with his creature, to stumble the faith of the 
 to'vn of Mausoul, and to make salvation to depend upon 
 works, and not upon grace. It also belied the word, and 
 disquieted the minds of the men of Mansoul ; therefore by 
 the best of laws he must die." 
 
 Then was the vocation doubter called, and set to the bar ; 
 and his indictment for substance was the same with the 
 other, only he was particularly charged with denying the 
 calling of Mansoul. 
 
 The judge asked him also what he had to say for himself ? 
 
 So he replied : — " That he never believed that there was 
 any such thing as a distinct and powerfid call of God to 
 Mansoul; otherwise than by the general voice of the word, 
 nor by that neither, otherwise than as it exhorted them to 
 forbear evU, and to do that which is good, and in so doing a 
 promise of happiness is annexed." 
 
 Then said the judge : — " Thou art a Diabolonian, and hast 
 denied a great part of one of the most experimental truths of 
 the Prince of the town of Mansoid; for he has called, an<l 
 she has heard a most distinct and jiowcrful call of her Em- 
 manuel, by which she has been quickened, a^^-akene(l, and 
 possessed with heavenly grace to desire to have communion
 
 580 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 with her Prince, to serve him, and do his ■will, and to look 
 for her happiness merely of his good pleasure. And for thine 
 abhorrence of this good doctrine, thou must die the death." 
 
 Then the grace doubter was called, and his indictment was 
 read, and he replied thereto : — " That though he was of the 
 land of doubting, his father was the offspring of a Pharisee, 
 and lived in good fashion among his neighbours, and that he 
 taught him to beheve, and beUeve it I do, and wiU, that 
 Mansoul shall never be saved freely by grace." 
 
 Then said the judge: — "Why, the law of the Prince is 
 Kom. iii. plain: 1. Negatively, 'not of works:' 2. 
 
 Eph. u. Positively, 'by grace you are saved.' And 
 
 thy religion settleth in and upon the works of the flesh; for 
 the works of the law are the works of the flesh. Besides, in 
 saying as thou hast done, thou hast robbed God of his glory, 
 and given it to a sinfid man ; thou hast robbed Christ of the 
 necessity of his undertaking, and the sufficiency thereof, and 
 hast given both these to the works of the flesh. Thou hast 
 despised the work of the Holy Ghost, and hast magnified the 
 will of the flesh, and of the legal mind. Thou art a Diabo- 
 Ionian, the son of a Diabolonian; and for thy Diabolonian 
 principles thou must die." 
 
 The coiirt then, having proceeded thus far with them, 
 sent out the jiiry, who forth^vith brought them in guilty of 
 death. Then stood up the Piecorder, and addressed himself 
 to the prisoners : "You, the prisoners at the bar, you have 
 been here indicted, and proved guilty of high crimes against 
 Emmanuel our Prince, and against the welfare of the famous 
 town of Mansoul, crimes for which you must be put to death, 
 and die ye accordingly." 
 
 So they were sentenced to the death of the cross. The 
 place assigned them for execution, was that where Diabolus 
 drew up his last army against Mansoul; save only that old 
 Evil-Questioning was hanged at the top of Bad Street, just 
 over against his own door. 
 
 When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid themselves of 
 their enemies, and of the troublers of their peace, in the next
 
 THE HOLY WAU. 581 
 
 place a strict commandment was given out, that yet my Lord 
 Willbewill should, with Diligence his man, search for, and 
 do his best to apprehend what town Diabolonians were yet 
 left alive in Mansoul. The names of several of them were, 
 Mr Fooling, Mr Let-Good-Slip, Mr Slavish-Fear, Mr No- 
 Love, Mr Mistrust, Mr Flesh, and Mr Sloth. It was also 
 commanded, that he should apprehend Mr Evil-Questioning's 
 children, that he left behind him, and that they should 
 demolish his house. The children that he left behind him 
 were these : — Mr Doubt, and he was his eldest son ; the next 
 to him was Legal-Life, Unbelief, Wrong-Thoughts-of-Clirist, 
 Clip-Promise, Carnal-Sense, Live-by-Feeling, Self-Love. All 
 these he had by one wife, and her name was No-Hope ; she 
 was the kinswoman of old Incredulity, for he was her luicle ; 
 and when her father, old Dark, was dead, he took her and 
 brought her up, and when she was marriageable, he gave her 
 to this old Evil- Questioning to wife. 
 
 Now the Lord Wdlbewill did put into execution his com- 
 mission, with great Diligence his man. He took Fooling 
 in the streets, and hanged him up in Want -Wit AUcy, over 
 against his own house. This Fooling was he that would have 
 had the town of Mansoul deliver up Captain Credence into 
 the hands of Diabolus, provided that then he woidd have 
 withdrawn his force out of the town. He also took .Mr Lot- 
 Good-Slip one day as he was busy in the market, and exe- 
 cuted him according to law. Now there was an honest poor 
 man in Mansoul, and his name was Mr Meditation, one of no 
 great account in the days of apostacy, but now of repute 
 with the best of the town. This man, therefore, they were 
 willing to prefer. Now Mr Let-Good-Slip had a great deal 
 of wealth heretofore in Mansoul, and, at Emmanuel's coming, 
 it was sequestered to the use of the Prince : this, therefore, 
 was now given to Mr Meditation, to improve for the common 
 good, and after him to his son, Mr Think -Well: this Think- 
 well he had by Mrs Piety his wife, and she was the daughter 
 of Mr Recorder. 
 
 After this, my lord apprehended Clip -Promise : now be-
 
 582 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 cause he was a notorious villain, for by his doings much of 
 the King's coin was abused, therefore he was made a public 
 example. He was arraigned and judged to be first set in 
 the pillory, then to be whipped by aU the children and 
 servants in Mansoid, and then to be hanged till he was dead. 
 Some may wonder at the severity of this man's punishment ; 
 but those that are honest traders in Mansoul, are sensible of 
 the great abuse that one clipper of promises in little time may 
 do to the town of Mansoul. And truly my judgment is, 
 that all those of his name and life should be served even 
 as he. 
 
 He also apprehended Carnal-Sense, and put him in hold ; 
 but how it came about, I cannot tell, but he brake prison, 
 and made his escape : yea, and the bold villain will not yet 
 quit the town, but lurks in the Diabolonian dens a days, and 
 haunts like a ghost honest men's houses a nights. Where- 
 fore, there was a proclamation set up in the market-place in 
 Mansoul, signifying that whosoever could discover Carnal- 
 Sense, and apprehend him and slay him, shoidd be admitted 
 daily to the Prince's table, and should be made keeper of the 
 treasure of Mansoul. Many, therefore, did bend themselves 
 to this thing, but take him and slay him they could not, 
 though often he was discovered. 
 
 But my lord took Mr Wrong-Thoughts-of-Christ, and put 
 him in prison, and he died there ; though it was long first, 
 for he died of a lingering consumption. 
 
 SeK-Love was also taken and committed to custody; but 
 there were many that were allied to him in Mansoul, so his 
 judgment was deferred. But at last Mr Self -Denial stood 
 up, and said : — " If such villains as these may be winked at 
 in Mansoid, I will lay down my commission." He also took 
 him from the crowd, and had him among his soldiers, and 
 there he was brained. But some in Mansoul muttered at it, 
 though none durst speak plainly, because Emmanuel was in 
 town. But this brave act of Captain Self -Denial came to the 
 Prince's ears; so he sent for him, and made him a lord in 
 Mansoid. My Lord WiUbewiU also obtained great commen-
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 583 
 
 dations of Emmanuel, for what he had done for the to-vvn of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 Then my Lord SeK-Denial took coiuage, and set to the 
 pursuing of the Diabolouians, with my Lord Willbewill ; and 
 they took Live-by-Feehng, and they took Legal-Life, and 
 put them in hold till they died. But Mr Unbelief was a 
 nimble Jack : him they could never lay hold of, though they 
 attempted to do it often. He therefore, and some few more 
 of the subtlest of the Diabolonian tribe, did yet remain in 
 Mansoul, to the time that Mansoid left off to dwell any 
 longer in the kingdom of Universe. But they kept them 
 to their dens and holes : if one of them did appear, or hap- 
 pen to be seen in any of the streets of the town of Mansoul, 
 the whole town would be up in arms after them ; yea, the 
 very children in Mansoul would cry out after them as after a 
 thief, and would wish that they might stone them to death 
 with stones. And now did Mansoid arrive to some good de- 
 gree of peace and quiet ; her Prince also did abide within her 
 borders; her captains, also, and her soldiers did their duties; 
 and Mansoid minded her trade that she had j^^.^j^ xxxlii. 17. 
 with the country that was afar off; also she P'"'- "i- 20. 
 was busy in her manufacture. 
 
 When the town of Mansoid had thus far rid themselves of 
 so many of their enemies, and the troublers of their peace, 
 the Prince sent to them, and appointed a day wherein he 
 would, at the market-place, meet the whole people, and there 
 give them in charge concerning some further matters, that, 
 if observed, would tend to their further safety and comfort, 
 and to the condemnation and destruction of then- home-bred 
 Diabolouians. So the day appointed was come, and the 
 townsmen met together; Emmanuel also came down in his 
 chariot, and aU his captains in their state attending him, on 
 the right hand and on the left. Then was an oyes made for 
 sdence, and, after some mutual carriages of love, the Prince 
 began, and thus proceeded : — 
 
 " You, my Mansoul, and the beloved of mine heart, many 
 and great are the privileges that 1 have bestowed upon you ;
 
 58i 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 I tave singled you out from others, and have chosen you to 
 myself, not for your worthiness, but for mine own sake. I 
 have also redeemed you, not only from the dread of my 
 Father's law, but from the hand of Diabolus. This I have 
 done because 1 loved you, and because I have set my heart 
 upon you to do you good. I have also, that all things that 
 might hinder thy way to the pleasures of paradise might be 
 taken out of the way, laid down for thee for thy soul a 
 plenary satisfaction, and have bought thee to myself ; a price 
 not of corruptible things, as of silver and gold, but a price of 
 blood, mine own blood, which I have freely spilled upon the 
 ground to make thee mine. So I have reconciled thee, 
 my Mansoul, to my Father, and intrusted thee in the man- 
 sion houses that are with my Father in the royal city, where 
 things are, my Mansoul, that eye hath not seen, nor hath 
 entered into the heart of man to conceive. 
 
 " Besides, my Mansoul, thou seest what I have done, and 
 how I have taken thee out of the hands of thine enemies ; unto 
 whom thou hadst deeply revolted from my Father, and by 
 whom thou wast content to be possessed, and also to be de- 
 stroyed. I came to thee first by my law, then by my gospel, 
 to awaken thee, and shew thee my glory. And thou know- 
 est what thou wast, what thou saidst, what thou didst, and 
 how many times thou rebelledst against my Father and me; 
 yet I left thee not, as thou seest this day, but came to thee, 
 have borne thy manners, have waited upon thee, and, after 
 all, accepted of thee, even of my mere grace and favour; 
 and would not suffer thee to be lost, as thou most willingly 
 wouldst have been. T also compassed thee about, and 
 afflicted thee on every side, that I might make thee weary of 
 thy ways, and bring down thy heart with molestation to a 
 willingness to close with thy good and happiness. And 
 when i had gotten a comidete conquest over thee, I turned 
 it to thy advantage. 
 
 " Thou seest, also, what a company of my Father's host I 
 have lodged within thy borders ; captains and rulers, soldiers 
 and men of war, engines and excellent devices to subdue and
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 585 
 
 bring down thy foes : thou knowest my meaning, O Man- 
 soul. And they are my servants, and thine, too, Mansoul. 
 Yea, my design of possessing of thee with them, and the 
 natural tendency of each of them is to defend, purge, 
 strengthen, and sweeten thee for myself, Mansoul, and to 
 make thee meet for my Father's presence, blessing, and 
 glory; for thou, my Mansoul, art created to be prepared 
 unto these. 
 
 " Thou seest, moreover, my Mansoul, how I have passed 
 by thy backslidings, and have healed thee. Indeed I was 
 angry with thee, but T have tiu-ned mine anger away from 
 thee, because I loved thee still, and mine anger and mine 
 indignation is ceased in the destruction of thine enemies, 
 MansouL Nor did thy goodness fetch me again unto thee, 
 after that I for thy transgressions have hid my face, and 
 withdrawn my presence from thee. The way of backsliding 
 was thine, but the way and means of thy recovery was mine. 
 I invented the means of thy retiirn ; it was I that made a 
 hedge and a wall, when thou wast beginning to turn to 
 things in which I delighted not. It was I that made thy 
 sweet bitter, thy day night, thy smooth way thorny, and 
 that also confounded aU that sought thy destruction. It 
 was I that set Mr Godly-Fear to work in Mansoul. It was 
 I that stirred up thy conscience and understanding, thy wiU 
 and thy affections, after thy great and woeful decay. It 
 was I that put life into thee, Mansoul, to seek me, that 
 thou mightest find me, and in thy finding find thine own 
 health, happiness, and salvation. It was I that fetched the 
 second time the Diabolonians out of Mansoul; and it was I 
 that overcame them, and that destroyed them before thy 
 
 face. 
 
 "And now, my Mansoul, I am returned to thee in peace, 
 and thy transgressions against me are as if they had not 
 been. Nor shall it be with thee as in former days, but I 
 will do better for thee than at thy beginning. For yet a 
 little while, my Mansoul, even after a few more times are 
 gone over thy head, I will (but be not thou troubled at what
 
 586 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 I say) take down this famous town of Mansoul, stick and 
 stone, to the ground. And I will carry the stones thereof, 
 and the timber thereof, and the walls thereof, and the dust 
 thereof, and the inhabitants thereof, into mine own country, 
 even into a kingdom of my Father ; and will there set it up 
 in such strength and glory, as it never did see in the king- 
 dom where now it is placed. I will even there set it up 
 for my Father's habitation ; for, for that purpose it was at 
 first erected in the kingdom of Universe; and there will I 
 make it a spectacle of wonder, a monument of mercy, and 
 the admirer of its own mercy. There shall the natives of 
 Mansoul see all that, of which they have seen nothing here : 
 there shall they be equal to those unto whom they have been 
 inferior here. And there shalt thou, my Mansoul, have 
 such commimion with me, with my Father, and with your 
 Lord Secretary, as is not possible here to be enjoyed, nor 
 ever could be, shoiddest thou live in Universe the space of a 
 thousand years. 
 
 "And there, my Mansoul, thou shalt be afraid of mur- 
 derers no more ; of Diabolonians, and their threats, no more. 
 There, there shall be no more plots, nor contrivances, nor 
 designs against thee, my Mansoul. There thou shalt no 
 more hear the evU-tidings, or the noise of the Diabolonian 
 drum. There thou shalt not see the Diabolonian standard- 
 bearers, nor yet behold Diaboliis's standard. No Diabolo- 
 nian mount shall be cast up against thee there ; nor shall 
 there the Diabolonian standard be set up to make thee 
 afraid. There thou shalt not need captains, engines, sol- 
 diers, and men of war. There thou shalt meet with no 
 sorrow, nor grief ; nor shall it be possible that any Diabolo- 
 nian should again, for ever, be able to creep into thy skirts, 
 burrow in thy walls, or be seen again within thy borders all 
 the days of eternity. Life shall there last longer than here 
 you are able to desire it should ; and yet it shall always be 
 sweet and new, nor shall any impediment attend it for ever. 
 
 " There, Mansoul, thou shalt meet with many of those 
 that have been like thee, and that have been partakers of
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 587 
 
 thy sorrows ; even such as I have chosen, and redeemed, 
 and set apart, as thou, for my Father's court and city-royaL 
 All they will be glad in thee, and thou, when thou seest 
 them, shalt be glad in thine heart. 
 
 " There are things, O Mansoul, even things of my 
 Father's providing, and mine, that never were seen since the 
 beginning of the world ; and they are laid up with my 
 Father, and sealed up among his treasures for thee, till thou 
 shalt come thitherto enjoy them. I told you before, that I 
 would remove my Mansoul, and set it up elsewhere ; and 
 where I will set it, there are those that love thee, and those 
 that rejoice in thee now; but how much more, when they 
 shall see thee exalted to honour ! My Father will then send 
 them for you to fetch you,; and their bosoms are chariots to 
 put you in. And yoii, my Mansoul, shall ride upon the 
 wings of the wind. They will come to convey, conduct, and 
 bring you to that, when your eyes see more, that will be 
 your desired haven. 
 
 "And thus, my Mansoul, I have shewed unto thee 
 what shall be done to thee hereafter, if thou canst hear, if 
 thou canst understand; and now I will tell thee what at 
 present must be thy duty and practice, until I come and 
 fetch thee to myself, according as is related in the Scriptures 
 of truth. 
 
 " First, I charge thee that thou dost hereafter keep more 
 white and clean the liveries which I gave thee before my 
 last withdrawing from thee. Do it, I say, for this will be 
 thy wisdom. They are in themselves fine linen, but thou 
 must keep them white and clean. This will be your wisdom, 
 your honour, and will be greatly for my glory. When your 
 garments are white, the world will count you mine. Also, 
 when your garments are white, then I am delighted in your 
 ways ; for then your goings to and fro will be like a flash of 
 lightning, that those that are present must take notice of; 
 also their eyes wUl be made to dazzle thereat. Deck thy- 
 self, therefore, according to my bidding, and make thyself 
 bv my law straight steps for thy feet; so shall thy King
 
 688 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 greatly desire thy beauty, for he is thy Lord, aud worship 
 thou him. 
 
 " Now, that thou mayest keep them as I bid thee, I have, 
 as I before did tell thee, provided for thee an open fountain 
 to wash thy garments in. Look, therefore, that thou wash 
 often m my fountain, and go not in defiled garments ; for as 
 it is to my dishonour and my disgrace, so it wLU be to thy dis- 
 comfort, when you shall walk in filthy garments. Let not, 
 therefore, my garments, your garments, the garments that I 
 gave thee, be defiled or spotted by the flesh. Keep thy 
 garments always white, and let thy head lack no oint- 
 ment. 
 
 " My Mansoul, I have ofttimea delivered thee from the 
 designs, plots, attempts, and conspiracies of Diabolus; and 
 for all this I ask thee nothing, but that thou render not to 
 me evil for my good ; but that thou bear in mind my love, 
 and the continuation of my kindness to my beloved Mansoul, 
 80 as to jirovoke thee to walk in thy measure according to 
 the benefit bestowed on thee. Of old, the sacrifices were 
 bound with cords to the horns of the altar. Consider what 
 is said to thee, my blessed Mansoiil. 
 
 •' O my Mansoul, I have lived, I have died. I live, and 
 will die no more for thee. I live, that thou mayest not die. 
 Because I live, thou shalt live also. I reconciled thee to my 
 Father by the blood of my cross ; and being reconciled, thou 
 shalt live through me. I will pray for thee ; I will fight for 
 thee ; I will yet do thee good. 
 
 '•Nothing can hurt thee but sin; nothing can grieve me 
 but sin; nothing can make thee base before thy foes but sin: 
 take heed of sin, my MansouL 
 
 " And dost thou know why I at first, and do stUl suffer 
 Diabolonians to dwell in thy walls, Mansoid? It is to keep 
 thee wakening, to try thy love, to make thee watchful, and 
 to cause thee yet to prize my noble captains, their soldiers, 
 and my mercy. 
 
 " It is also, that yet thou mayest be made to remember 
 what a deplorable condition thou once wast in, I mean
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 589 
 
 when, not some, but all did dwell, not in thy walls, but in 
 thy castle, and in thy strong hold, Mansoiil. 
 
 " my Mansoul, should I slay all them within, many 
 there be without that would bring thee into bondage; for 
 were all these within cut off, those without wovdd find thee 
 sleeping ; and then, as in a moment, they would swallow up 
 my MansouL I therefore left them in thee, not to do thee 
 hurt, (the which they yet will, if thou hearken to them, and 
 serve them,) but to do thee good, the which they must, if 
 thou watch and fight against them. Kjiow, therefore, that 
 whatever they shall tempt thee to, my design is, that they 
 should drive thee, not further off, but nearer to my Father, 
 to learn thee war, to make petitioning desirable to thee., and 
 to make thee little in thine own eyes. Hearken diligently 
 to this, my Mansoul. 
 
 " Shew me, then, thy love, my Mansoul, and let not those 
 that are within thy walls take thy affections off from him 
 that hath redeemed thy soul. Yea, let the sight of a Diabo- 
 lonian heighten thy love to me. I came once, and twice, 
 and thrice, to save thee from the poison of those arrows that 
 would have wrought thy death : stand for me, thy Friend, 
 my Mansovil, against the Diabolonians, and I will stand for 
 thee before my Father, and all his court. Love me against 
 temptation, and I will love tiiee notwithstanding thine infir- 
 mities. 
 
 ' ' O my Mansoul, remember what my captains, my soldiers, 
 and mine engines have done for thee. They have fought for 
 thee, they have suffered by thee, they have borne much at 
 thy hands to do thee good, Mansoul. Hadst thou not had 
 them to help thee, Diabolus had certainly made a hand of 
 thee. Nourish them, therefore, my Mansoul. When thou 
 dost well, they will be well ; when thou dost iU, they will 
 be ill, and sick, and weak. Make not my captains sick, 
 Mansoul; for if they be sick, thou canst not be well; if they 
 bd weak, thou canst not be strong ; if they be faint, thou 
 canst not be stout and valiant for thy King, MansouL 
 Nor must thou think always to live by sense : tliou must
 
 590 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 live upon iny word. Tlioii must believe, my Mansoiil, 
 when T am from thee, that yet I love thee, and bear thee 
 upon mine heart for ever. 
 
 ' ' Remember, therefore, my Mansoul, that thou art 
 beloved of me : as I have, therefore, taught thee to watch, 
 to fight, to pray, and to make war against my foes ; so now 
 I command thee to believe that my love is constant to thee. 
 my Mansoul, how have I set my heart, my love upon thee ! 
 Watch. Behold, T lay none other burden upon thee, than 
 'jvhat thou hast already. Hold fast, till T coma." 
 
 Crawford & M'Cabe, Printers, 1^ Queen Street, Edinburgh.
 
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 F.E.S.E., Author of ' The History of Scotlaud,' etc, 
 
 2. Seeing the World : A Young Sailor's own Story. By 
 
 Charles Nobdhoff, Author of 'The Young Man-of-War's- 
 Man.' 
 
 3. The Martyr Missionary : Pive Tears in China. By 
 
 Eev. Chaklks P. Bush, M.A. 
 
 4. My New Home : A Woman's Diary. 
 
 5. Home Heroines : Tales for Girls. By T. S. Arthur, 
 
 Author of 'Life's Crosses,' etc. 
 
 6. Lessons from Women's Lives. By Sarah J. Hale. 
 
 7. The Koseville Pamily. A Historical Tale of the 
 
 Eighteenth Century. By Mrs. A. S. Orb, Author of ' Mountain 
 Patriots,' etc. 
 
 8. Leah. A Tale of Ancient Palestine. Illustrative of 
 
 the Story of Naaman the Syrian. By Mrs. A. S. Orr. 
 
 9. Champions of the Keformation: The Stories of their 
 
 Lives. By Janet Gordon. 
 
 I o. The History of Two Wanderers ; or, Oast Adrift. 
 
 1 1. Beattie's Poetical Works. 
 
 12. The Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 13. Edgar Allan Poe's Poetical Works. 
 
 14. The Miner's Son, and Margaret Vernon. By M. M. 
 
 Pollard, Author of ' The Minister's Daughter,' etc. etc. 
 
 1 5. How Prank began to OUmb the Ladder, and the Priends 
 
 who lent him a hand. By Cilvrles Bruce, Author of ' Lame 
 Felix,' etc. 
 
 16. Conrad and Columbine. A Fairy Tale. By James 
 
 Mason. 
 
 17. Aunt Ann's Stories. Edited by Louisa Loughborough. 
 
 18. The Snow- Sweepers' Party, and the Tale of Old Tubbins. 
 
 By E. St. John Corbet, Author of 'Mince Pie Island,' etc. etc. 
 
 19. The Story of Elise Marcel. A Tale for Giris.
 
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 2. Great Men of European History. From the Beginning of 
 
 the Chri.stian Era till the Present Time. By David Prvde, JI.A. 
 
 3. The Young Men of the Bible. A Series of Papers, Bio- 
 
 graphiciil and SuRcestive. By Rev. Joseph A. Collier. 
 
 4. The Blade and the Ear : A Book for Young Men. 
 
 5. Monarchs of Ocean : Columbus and Cook. 
 
 6. Life's Crosses, and How to Meet them. By T. S. Arthur. 
 
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 8. Mountain Patriots. A Tale of the Reformation in Savoy. 
 
 By Mrs. A. S. Orr. 
 
 9. Labours of Love. By Winifred Taylor. 
 
 10. Mossdale. By Anna M. De longh. 
 
 11. The Standard-Bearer. A Tale of the Times of Constantine 
 
 the Great. By Ellen Palmer. 
 
 12. Jacqueline. A Story of the Reformation in Holland, By 
 
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 1. Lame Felix. A Book for Boys. By Charles Bruce. 
 
 2. Picture Lessons by the Divine Teacher ; or, Illustrations of 
 
 the Parables of our Lord. By Peter Grant, D.I). 
 
 3. Nonna : A Story of the Days of Julian the Apostate. By Ellen 
 
 Palmer. 
 
 4. Philip Walton ; or. Light at Last. By the Author of ' Meta 
 
 Frantz,' etc. 
 
 5. The Minister's Daughter, and Old Anthony's Will Tales for 
 
 the Younff. Bv JI. JI. Pollard, Autlior of ' The Miner's Son,' etc. etc. 
 
 6. The Two Sisters. By M. M. PoUard. 
 
 7. A Needle and Thread : A Tale for Girls. By Emma J. Barnes, 
 
 Author of 'Faitliful and True, or the Jlother's Legacy.' 
 
 8. Taken Up : A Tale for Boys and Girls. By A." Whymper. 
 
 9. An Earl's Daughter. By M. M. Pollard. 
 
 10. Life at Hartwell; or, Frank and his Friends. By Katharine 
 
 E. May, Author of ' Alfred and his Mother,' etc. etc. 
 
 11. Stories Told in a Fisherman's Cottage. By Ellen Palmer, 
 
 Author of ' Nonna.' etc. etc. 
 
 12. Max Wild, the Merchant's Son; and other Stories for the 
 
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 1. Bible Blessings. By Rev. Richard Newton. 
 
 2. One Hour a Week : Fifty-two Bible Lessons for the Young. 
 
 3. The Best Things. By Rev. Richard Newton. 
 
 4. The Story of John Heywood : An Historical Tale of the Time 
 
 of Hany viii. By Charles Becce, Author of ' How Frank began to 
 Climb,' etc. 
 
 5. Lessons from Rose Hill ; and Little Nannette. 
 
 6. Great and Good Women : Biographies for Girls. By 
 
 Ltdia H. Sigournet. 
 
 7. At Home and Abroad ; or, Uncle William's Adventures. 
 
 8. Alfred and his Mother ; or, Seeking the Kingdom. By 
 
 Katharine E. Mat. 
 
 9. Asriel ; or. The Crystal Cup. A Tale for the Young. 
 
 By Mrs. Henderson. 
 I o. The Kind Governess ; or, How to make Home Happy. 
 
 1 1 . Percy and Ida. By Katharine E. May. 
 
 12. Three Wet Sundays with the Book of Joshua. By EUen 
 
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 Foolscap 8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, Illustrated, price Is. 6c7. each. 
 
 1. The Sculptor of Bruges. By Mrs. W. G. Hall. 
 
 2. From Cottage to Castle ; or, Faithful in Little. A Tale 
 
 founded on Fact. By .M. II., Autlior of 'The Red Velvet Bible,' etc. 
 
 3. Christmas at the Beacon : A Tale for the Young. By 
 
 Ellen Palmer. 
 
 4. The Sea and the Savages: A Story of Adventure. By 
 
 Harold Lincoln. 
 
 5. The Swedish Singer ; or, The Story of Vanda Rosendahl. 
 
 By Mrs. W. G. Hall. 
 
 6. My Beautiful Home ; or, Lily's Search. By Chas. Bruce. 
 
 7. The Story of a Moss Rose ; or, Ruth and the Orphan 
 
 Family. By Charles Bruce. 
 
 8. Summer Holidays at Silversea. By E. Rosalie Salmon. 
 
 9. Fred Graham's Resolve. By the Author of ' Mat and Sofie,' 
 
 etc. etc. 
 
 10. WUton School; or, Harry Campbell's Revenge. A Tale. 
 
 By F. E. Weatheult. 
 
 1 1 . Grace Harvey and her Cousins. 
 
 1 2. Blind Mercy ; and other Tales for the Young. By Gertrude 
 
 Crockford. 
 
 13. Evan Lindsay. By Margaret Fraser Tytler, Author of ' Tales 
 
 of Good and Great Kings,' 'Tales of the Great and Brave,' etc.
 
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 Nimmo's Eighteenpenny Favourite Reward Books. 
 
 Demy 18mo, Illustrated, cloth extra, gilt edges, price Is. 6d. each. 
 
 1. The Vicar of Wakefield. Poems and Essays. By Oliver 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2. .ffisop's Fables, with Instructive Applications. By Dr. 
 
 Croxall. 
 
 3. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. 
 
 4. The Young Man-of-War's-Man : A Boy's Voyage round the 
 
 World. By Charles Nordhoff, Author of 'Seeing the World.' 
 
 5. The Treasury of Anecdote: Moral and Religious. 
 
 6. The Boy's Own Workshop ; or, The Young Carpenters. 
 
 By Jacob Abbott. 
 
 7. The Life and Adventures of Eobinson Crusoe. 
 
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 tive Lesson for Young Persons. 
 
 9. Evenings at Home ; or, The Juvenile Budget Opened. Con- 
 
 sisting of a variety of Miscellaneous Pieces for the Instruction and Amuse- 
 ment of Young Persons. By Dr. Aikin and Mrs. Barbauld. 
 
 10. Unexpected Pleasures ; or. Left alone in the Holidays. By 
 
 Mrs. George Cutples, Author of 'Norrie Seton,' etc. 
 
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 entertainment and instruction of young persons. 
 
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 1. Across the River: Twelve Views of Heaven. By Norman 
 
 MACLEOD, D.D. ; R. W. Hamilton, D.D.; Robert S. Candlish, D.D.; 
 James Hamilton, D.D. ; etc. etc. 
 
 2. Emblems of Jesus ; or, Illustrations of Emmanuel's Character 
 
 and Work. 
 
 3. Life Thoughts of Eminent Christians. 
 
 4. Comfort for the Desponding ; or, Words to Soothe and Cheer 
 
 Troubled Hearts. 
 
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 Christian Mourner. By Joseph Parker, P.D.. Manchester. 
 
 6. The Cedar Christian, and other Practical Papers. By the Rev. 
 
 Theodore L. Cuyler. 
 
 7. Consolation for Christian Mothers Bereaved of Little Children. 
 
 By A Friend of Mourners. 
 
 8. The Orphan; or, Words of Comfort for the Fatherless and 
 
 Motherless. 
 
 9. Gladdening Streams ; or, The Waters of the Sanctuary, A 
 
 Book for Fragments of Time on each Lord's Day of the Year. 
 
 10. Spirit of the Old Divines. 
 
 11. Choice Gleanings from Sacred Writers. 
 
 12. Direction in Prayer; or, The Lord's Prayer Illustrated in a 
 
 Series of Expositions. By Peter Grant, D.D., Author of 'Emblems of 
 Jesus,* etc. 
 
 13. Scripture Imagery. By Peter Grant, D.D., Author of 'Emblems 
 
 of Jesus,' etc.
 
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 Foolscap 8vo, Coloured Frontispieces, handsomely bound in cloth. 
 Illuminated, price Is. each. 
 
 1. Pour Little People and their Friends. 
 
 2. Elizabeth; or, The Exiles of Siberia. A Tale 
 
 from the French of Madame Cottin, 
 
 3. Paul and Virginia. From the French of 
 
 BERNARDm SAtNT-PlERRE. 
 
 4. Little Threads : Tangle Thread, Golden 
 
 Thread, and Silver Thread. 
 
 5- Benjamin Franklin, the Printer Boy. 
 
 6. Barton Todd, and The Young Lawyer. 
 
 7. The Perils of Greatness : The Story of Alex- 
 
 ander Menzikoflf. 
 
 8. Little Crowns, and How to Win them. By 
 
 Eev. Joseph A. Collier. 
 
 9. Great Riches : Nelly Rivers' Story. By Aunt 
 
 Fanny. 
 
 10. The Right Way, and The Contrast. 
 
 11. The Daisy's First Winter. And other Stories. 
 
 By Harriet Beecher Stowk. 
 
 12. The Man of the Mountain. And other 
 
 stories. 
 
 13- Better than Rubies. Stories for the Young, 
 
 Illustrative of Familiar Proverbs. With 62 Illustrationg, 
 
 [ Condmied on next pa^e.
 
 12 
 
 l^ookf pnblts^tb kg William ^. llmmur. 
 
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 JUVENILE BOOKS, 
 
 CONTINUED. 
 
 14' Experience Teaches. And other Stories for 
 
 the Young, Illustrative of Familiar Proverbs. With 39 Ulns- 
 trations. 
 
 IS- The Happy Recovery. And other Stories for 
 
 the Young. With 26 Illustrations. 
 
 1 6. Gratitude and Probity. And other Stories 
 
 for the Young. With 21 Illustrations. 
 
 17- The Two Brothers. And other Stories for 
 
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 the Yotmg. With 9 Illustrations. 
 
 19- Simple Stories to Amuse and Instruct Young 
 
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 20. The Three Friends. And other Stories for 
 
 the Young. With Illustrations. 
 
 21. Sybil's Sacrifice. And other Stories for the 
 
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 22. The Old Shepherd. And other Stories for the 
 
 Young. With Illustrations. 
 
 23. The Young Officer. And other Stories for the 
 
 Young. With lUustrations. 
 
 24. The False Heir. And other Stories for the 
 
 Young. With Illustrations. 
 
 25. The Old Farmhouse; or, Alice Morton's 
 
 Home. And other Stories. By M. M. Pollakd. 
 
 26. Twyford Hall; or, Rosa's Christmas Dinner, 
 
 and what she did with it. By Charles Bruce. 
 
 27. The Discontented Weathercock. And other 
 
 Stories for Children. By M. Jones. 
 
 28. Out at Sea, and other Stories. By Two 
 
 Authors. 
 
 29. The Story of Waterloo; or, The Fall of 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 30- Sister Jane's Little Stories. Edited by Louisa 
 
 L O U GHBORO UGH.
 
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 In demy ISmo, with Illustrations, elegantly hound in cloth. 
 
 This Series of Books will be found unequalled for genuine interest and 
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 children of both sexes. Parents may rest assured that each Volume 
 teaches some noble lesson, or enforces some valuable truth. 
 
 1. In the Brave Days of Old ; or, The Story of the Spanish 
 
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 19. Kate's New Home. By Oecil Scott, Author of ' Ohryssie 
 
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 14 Sooki pabUs^tb bg ffiliUiam ^. ^amma. 
 
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 1. Pearls for Little People. 
 
 2. Great Lessons for Little People. 
 
 3. Reason in Ehyme: A Poetry Book for the Young. 
 
 4. -Esop's Little Fable Book. 
 
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 8. The Tables of Stone : Illustrations of the Command- 
 
 ments. 
 
 9. Ways of Doing Good. 
 
 10. Stories about our Dogs. By Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
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 12. The Hermit of the Hills. 
 
 13. Effie's Christmas, and other Stories. By Adelaide 
 
 Austen. 
 
 14. A Visit to Grandmother, and other Stories for the 
 
 Young. 
 
 15. Bible Stories for Young People. By Adelaide Austen. 
 
 16. The Little Woodman and his Dog Csesar. By Mrs. 
 
 Sherwood. 
 
 17. Among the Mountains: Tales for the Young. By 
 
 Adelaide Austen. 
 
 18. Little Gems for Little Eeaders. 
 
 19. Do your Duty, come what will, and other Stories for 
 
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 20. Noble Joe : A Tale for Children. By Adelaide Austen. 
 
 21. Lucy Vernon, and other Stories for the Young. 
 
 22. Anecdotes of Favourite Animals told for Children. By 
 
 Adelaide Austen. 
 
 23. Little Henry and his Bearer. By Mrs. Sherwood. 
 
 [Continued on next page.
 
 gfloks publb^eb bg ^Slillrnm ^. |limmo. 15 
 
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 CONTINUED. 
 
 24. The Holidays at "Wilton, and other Stories. By 
 
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 25. Ohryssie Lyle : A Tale for the Young. By Cecil Scott. 
 
 26. Little Elsie among the Quarrymen. By Ellen Palmer. 
 
 NEW VOLUMES JUST ADDED TO THIS SERIES. 
 
 27. The Lesson of Obedience. By the Eev. Kichard 
 
 NE^^^:oN, D.D. 
 
 28. The Lesson of Diligence, By the Eev. Eichard 
 
 Newton, D.D. 
 
 2 9. Pergns : A Tale by Jacob Abbott. 
 
 30. Gilbert and his Mother. By Jacob Abbott. 
 
 31. The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain. By Hannah More. 
 
 32. Emily Barton, and other Stories. By Charles and 
 
 Mary Lajiu. 
 
 33. Elizabeth Villiers, and other Stories. By Charles and 
 
 Maky Lamb. 
 
 34. The Grateful Negro. By Maria Edgeworth. 
 
 35. Porgive and Porget. By Maria Edgeworth, 
 
 36. Waste Not, Want Not. By Maria Edgeworth. 
 
 37. The Palse Key. By Maria Edgeworth. 
 
 38. The Bracelets. By Maria Edgeworth. 
 
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 The above Series of Books is also kept in embossed and illuminated 
 
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 *»• The distinctive features of the Sixpenny, Ninepenny, and One Shilling 
 Juvenile Books are: The Subjects of each Volume have been selected with a due 
 regard to Instruction and Entertainment; they are well printed on fine paper; 
 they are Illustrated with Coloured Frontispieces and beautiful Engravings ; and 
 they are elegantly bound.
 
 HEy\l WORKS JUST READY, 
 CHEAP EDITION OF THE EDINA BURNS. 
 
 In crown 4to, price 12s. 6d., elegantly bound in cloth, extra gilt 
 and gilt edges, the popular Drawing-room Edition of the 
 
 Poems and Songs by Robert Bums. With Illus- 
 trations by Heedman, "Waller H. Paton, Sam. Bough, 
 GouRLAY Steell, D. 0. HiLL, J. M'Whirter, and other 
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 Just ready, in crown 8vo, with Steel Frontispiece and Vignette, 
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 The English Circumnavigators : The most re- 
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 (Drake, Dampier, Anson, and Cook's Voyages.) AVith a 
 Preliminary Sketch of their Lives and Discoveries. Edited, 
 with Notes, Maps, etc., by David Laing Purves. 
 
 Uniform in size and price with the above, with Steel Frontispiece 
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 The Book of Adventure and Peril. A Record of 
 
 Heroism and Endurance on Sea and Land. Compiled and 
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 Other Standard Worhs in preparation. 
 
 This Series is also kept bound in cloth extra, full gilt side, back, 
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 Tldrd Edition. 
 In demy 8vo, cloth elegant, richly gilt, price 7s. 6d. , 
 
 Things a Lady would Like to Know, concerning 
 
 Domestic Management and Expenditure, arranged for Daily 
 Eeference, with Hints regarding the Intellectual as well as the 
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 In crown 8vo, beautifully bound in cloth extra, full of Engravings 
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 Three Hundred Bible Stories and Three Hundred 
 
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 kJ
 
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