UC-NRLF 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BEQUEST OF 
 
 Alice R. Hilgard 
 
THE MODERN STUDENT'S LIBRARY 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILL D, HOWE 
 
 PBOFE880B OF ENGLISH AT INDIANA UNIVERSITY 
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
THE MODERN STUDENT'S LIBRARY 
 
 PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL 
 
 By George Meredith. 
 THE HISTORY OF PENDENNIS. 
 
 By William Makepeace Thackeray. 
 THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE. 
 
 By^Thomas Hardy. 
 BOSWELL'.S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 ADAM BEDE. 
 
 By George Eliot. 
 
 ENGLISH POETS OF THE EIGHTEENTH 
 . CENTURY. 
 THE RING AND THE BOOK. 
 
 By Robert Browning. 
 PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 By Thomas Carlyle. 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 
 By Jane Austen. 
 THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN. 
 
 By Sir Walter Scott. 
 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 THE ESSAYS OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVEN- 
 
 SON. 
 
 NINETEENTH CENTURY LETTERS. 
 THE ESSAYS OF ADDISON AND STEELE. 
 Each small 12mo. 75 cents net. 
 
 Other volumes in preparation. 
 
THE MODERN STUDENT'S LIBRARY 
 
 THE 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH 
 IS TO COME 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN BTJNYAN 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL McCHORD CROTHERS 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 Add'] 
 
 GIFT 
 

 INTRODUCTION 
 
 William Blake's question in regard to the tiger, 
 "Did He who made the lamb make thee?" 
 
 occurs to one who attempts to read all the works of John 
 Bunyan. Did he who wrote "Solomon's Temple Spiritual- 
 ized," "The Life and Death of Mr. Badman," and "Sighs 
 from Hell, or the Groans of a Damned Soul," or even "The 
 Holy War," write also "The Pilgrim's Progress"? 
 
 Truth to tell, most of Bunyan's works have the usual char- 
 acteristic of allegorical writing. They are dull. The writer 
 seizes upon an obvious analogy and then draws it out into an 
 endless homily. In his introduction to "Solomon's Temple 
 Spiritualized" the author frankly tells the Christian Reader 
 what he is to expect. He intends to make a thorough job 
 of the spiritualization, and to leave no part of the sacred 
 edifice or the surrounding country without its appropriate 
 moral. "I may say that God did in a manner tie up the 
 church of the Jews to types, figures, and similitudes, I mean 
 to be butted and bounded by them in all external parts of 
 worship. Yea, not only the levitical law and temple, but as 
 it seems to me the whole land of Canaan, the place of their 
 lot to dwell in, was to them a ceremonial or a figure." 
 
 When a conscientious allegorist takes his business so seri- 
 ously, we may expect him to go far. Bunyan goes to the 
 bitter end. Every nook and cranny of the temple is exam- 
 ined by this spiritual detective whose eyes are keen for hid- 
 den meanings. The doors of the temple are folding doors, 
 so that even a "tun-bellied sinner" may pass through them. 
 "The hinges on which these doors do hang were, as I told 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 you, gold to signify that they turn upon motives and mo- 
 tions of love." The door-posts were "of the olive-tree, that 
 fat and oily tree, to show that they never open with loathness 
 or sluggishness." The doors were made of fir. Now, fir is 
 the type of five different things, each of which is set down 
 with the appropriate scriptural proof -texts. 
 
 How did this painful allegorist come to write one of the 
 most vivid and entertaining books in our language? Bun- 
 yan did not know. It was an accident that happened when, 
 as a passive resister, he lay in Bedford Jail. He didn't in- 
 tend to write anything very serious; he only wanted to do 
 something to pass away the time. 
 
 "I only thought to make 
 I know not what, nor did I undertake 
 To please my neighbor, no not I. 
 I did it my own self to gratify, 
 Neither did I but vacant seasons spend, 
 In this my scribble, nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself in doing this 
 From worser thoughts which make me do amiss." 
 
 We are pleasantly surprised at this exhibition of bohemian- 
 ism. The Puritan conscience is evidently taking a vacation, 
 and native imagination has its fling. The serious reader is 
 flouted with gay unconcern. 
 
 "Some there be who say, 'He laughs too loud,' 
 And some do say his head is in a cloud." 
 
 What of it! When a man is in jail for "devilishly and 
 perniciously abstaining from coming to church," he must be 
 allowed some amusement. There are some incongruities 
 connected with the religious life that cause a smile even to 
 the most earnest. 
 
 "Some things are of such nature as to make 
 The fancy chuckle while his heart doth break." 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 The fact of the matter was that John Bunyan, besides 
 being a devoted, evangelical preacher belonging to the strait- 
 est sect of his day, was also a man of genius. For the most 
 part he did what was expected of him. But once upon a 
 time his genius ran away with him. Starting out to expound 
 the Calvinistic doctrine of salvation, he found himself carried 
 away into new regions of experience. Occasionally we see 
 the Puritan preacher tugging at the reins, but in the end his 
 genius gets the better of him. 
 
 The student of literature may find it interesting to trace 
 "The Pilgrim's Progress" to its sources in previous allegories 
 based on the analogy of life to a journey. But Bunyan 
 needed no further suggestion than that which he found in 
 the Bible, where men of faith were spoken of as pilgrims and 
 strangers who "desire a better country, that is an heavenly." 
 That is the argument of "The Pilgrim's Progress from this 
 world to that which is to come, in the similitude of a dream, 
 wherein is discovered his manner of setting out, his dan- 
 gerous journey and safe arrival at the desired country." 
 
 His manner of setting out is what we should expect. We 
 see the English Calvinist of the seventeenth century. He 
 is "standing in a certain place with his face from his own 
 house, a book in his hand and a great burden on his back. 
 As he reads he weeps and cries, 'What shall I do?"' 
 
 But who could have supposed that his dangerous journey 
 could be made so humanly interesting and that men of every 
 creed could find it intimately true to their own experiences ? 
 Bunyan, in attempting to illustrate a definite plan of salva- 
 tion, became the interpreter of all idealistic endeavor. 
 
 The fortunate reader of "The Pilgrim's Progress" is one 
 who read it as a child, before he was interested in theology 
 or philosophy. Then he received a multitude of vivid pic- 
 tures which afterwards he may recall and use for his soul's 
 health. If he be an American and years after has the good 
 fortune to wander over the highways and byways of rural 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 England, he will have a rare pleasure. Where has he seen 
 this country before ? Why does this English landscape have 
 such a spiritual meaning? 
 
 It is because he has lived in it when it was a land of dreams. 
 Just as Cervantes makes one see the Spain of the sixteenth 
 century, so Bunyan makes real the rural England of the 
 seventeenth century. It is a pleasant country. The high- 
 way is not broad and bare. It runs between hedges, and 
 now and then between garden-walls. One recognizes the fa- 
 miliar wicket gates. There are old villages that lie a little 
 off the main highway, and one is always tempted to take a 
 footpath or a green lane. Now and then one sees a castle. 
 It is a populous land. There are always wayfarers on the 
 road, ready to ask or answer questions. At the end of the 
 day's journey one can almost always find an inn, or, if one 
 is fortunate enough to have friends, there is a gentleman's 
 house, where after supper they are "very merry and sit at 
 table a long time talking of many things." It is not a 
 densely wooded country, though there are many noble trees. 
 There are some steep hills and now and then a dark valley 
 into which one descends, not without fear. But nature 
 never shows primeval fierceness. Even in the valley of hu- 
 miliation there is a small boy who sings a cheerful little song 
 and wears the herb heartsease in his bosom. On the moors 
 the shepherds lean upon their staves and talk. Their names 
 are Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere. But, for 
 all their allegorical names, they are real shepherds. 
 
 When first I looked from the summit of the Malvern Hills 
 across the smiling country of Hereford, with the Welsh 
 mountains beyond, I asked myself, Where had I seen it be- 
 fore ? Then I remembered that long ago "I saw in my dream 
 that on the morrow he got up to go fonvard and they desired 
 him to stay till the next day also, and then said they, 'We 
 will (if the day be clear) shew you the delectable mountains,' 
 so he consented and staid. When the morning was up, they 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 had him go to the top of the house and bid him look south: 
 so he did, and behold at a great distance he saw a most 
 pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vine- 
 yards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and foun- 
 tains delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the 
 country. They said, 'It is Emanuel's land/" 
 
 The critics of Bunyan have often been misled by the open- 
 ing scene into treating his allegory as if it illustrated merely 
 the frantic flight of an individual from the city of destruction. 
 Did not Christian leave wife and children to their fate while 
 he sought to save his own soul ? We with our modern 
 ideals of social service and community welfare are inclined 
 to look scornfully on such self-centred piety. But if that 
 were Bunyan's original intent he makes noble amends by 
 giving us the second part. Here the hero is not Christian, 
 fleeing from the wrath to come, but Mr. Great-heart, who 
 goes back to save others and help them on their way, and 
 the counsellor is not Mr. Evangelist but Mr. Sagacity. The 
 whole atmosphere is social and friendly. In the band are 
 Mr. Honest and Mr. Valiant-for-the-truth, good fighting 
 men. Mr. Honest came, as he frankly acknowledged, from 
 the town of Stupidity, but he has no mind to return to his 
 birthplace. When he tells his story, Mr. Great-heart claps 
 him on the back and cries, "Well said, Father Honest, for 
 by this I know that thou art a cock of the right kind." No 
 one can trudge along more sturdily than Mr. Honest, but 
 when evening comes on and the more quick-witted pilgrims 
 make a circle and begin to tell riddles, the old gentleman 
 nods. "Then said Great-heart, 'What, Sir, you begin to 
 be drowsy, come, rub up!'" But Mr. Honest is no great 
 hand for riddles. Give him something to do and he is as 
 brisk as the youngest of them. 
 
 With the Pilgrim band are many who, if left to themselves, 
 would have fallen by the way. Here was Mr. Fearing, of 
 whom Mr. Honest says, "He was one of the most trouble- 
 
x INTRODUCTION 
 
 some pilgrims that ever I met with in all my days." And 
 Mr. Great-heart tells how he lay in the slough of Despond 
 for a whole month, and when he got over he would not be- 
 lieve it. "And yet when he came to the Hill of Difficulty he 
 made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions." 
 
 A company can go no faster than its slowest members. 
 The Pilgrim band was held back by Mr. Ready-to-halt and 
 Mr. Feeble-mind. Often it was sorry going, but at the end 
 of the day Mr. Great-heart could get the sober satisfaction 
 that belongs to a social reformer who feels that, after all, 
 "they made a pretty good shift to wag along." 
 
 Fielding himself never pictured rollicking wayside merry- 
 making with more sympathy than Bunyan did in the scene 
 where the pilgrims celebrate their victory over Giant Despair. 
 
 "Now when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it 
 was the head of Giant Despair indeed they were very jocund 
 and merry. Now, Christiana, if need was, could play on the 
 viol and her daughter Mercy upon the lute. So since they 
 were so merry disposed she played them a lesson and Ready- 
 to-halt would dance. So he took Despondency's daughter, 
 Much-afraid, by the hand and to dancing they went in the 
 road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his 
 hand, but I promise you he footed it well, also the girl was 
 to be commended, for she answered the music handsomely. 
 As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not much for 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 something 
 to eat, and in a little time the old gentleman was finely 
 revived." 
 
 Running through "The Pilgrim's Progress" there is a vein 
 of irony which the modern reader may miss if he does not 
 remember that Bunyan was a rebel against the established 
 order both in church and state. The parson and the squire 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 were his bitter enemies. In jail he saw the seamy side of 
 Respectability. Mr. Hold-the- world, Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. 
 Facing-both-ways, Mr. Anything, and Parson Two-tongues of 
 Vanity Fair were real people to him, and he had suffered 
 many things from them. His fancy chuckled as he thought 
 of Mr. By-ends of Fair-speech, who inherited from his great- 
 grandfather the waterman his ability to look one way while 
 rowing another. These fair-weather Christians had all gone 
 to school "in Love-gain in the County of Coveting in the 
 north." 
 
 Who can forget the satire in the conversation in regard to 
 true religion between Mr. Money-love and Mr. Hold-the- 
 world? "For my part," says Mr. Hold-the- world, "I like 
 the religion best that will stand with the security of God's 
 good blessing unto us, for who can imagine, that is ruled by 
 his, reason, since God hath bestowed on us the good things 
 of this life, but that he would have us keep them for his 
 sake ? Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion." 
 
 How admirably they dispose of the case of a minister "a 
 worthy man possessed of a small benefice, and has in eye a 
 greater and more fat withal"! Can he as an honest man 
 give up or alter some of his principles in order to obtain the 
 fat benefice ? Yes, says the sage counsellor. 
 
 "His desire after that benefice makes him a more studious 
 man, a more zealous preacher and so makes him a better 
 man, yea makes him better improve his parts, which is ac- 
 cording to the mind of God." As for his giving up his own 
 principles and accepting those of his wealthy congregation, 
 ' % that proves that he is of a self-denying disposition." 
 
 Nothing could be more delicate than Bunyan's treatment 
 of these profitable self-denials. 
 
 If I have spoken disparagingly of Bunyan's other works, 
 I would make an exception of "Grace Abounding to the 
 Chief of Sinners." This should be read by any one who 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 would learn why Bunyan became the prince of allegorists. 
 The writer of this autobiography had lived the life of alle- 
 gory. His soul was a battle-field across which contending 
 armies fought. Bunyan visualized and personified all the 
 virtues and vices which he found in himself. He writes as a 
 man possessed. His mind was possessed alternately by devils 
 and angels. 
 
 We see also what a part single sentences played in this 
 mental conflict. He not only saw them but he heard them. 
 Of one such text, which he found at last, not in the canonical 
 Scriptures but in the Apocrypha, he says: "It had such 
 strength and comfort on my spirit that it was as if it talked 
 to me." 
 
 Sometimes two contradictory texts would trouble him, and 
 their conflict would almost drive him to despair. It was as 
 if they were hostile warriors contending for his soul. "Lord, 
 thought I, if both these scriptures would meet at once in my 
 heart I wonder which of them would get the better of me." 
 
 Bunyan's own words have this kind of magical power. 
 They are alive. We may be reading a bit of moralizing that 
 promises to be dull. Suddenly out of the old book appears 
 a sentence addressed to our personal experience. It talks 
 to us. 
 
 And we not only hear but see. Our imagination is a pic- 
 ture-gallery. There upon the walls we see the House Beau- 
 tiful, the Hill Difficulty, Doubting Castle, the street scenes 
 in Vanity Fair, the Interpreter's House, the Delectable 
 Mountains, the Land of Beulah, the Dark River, and beyond 
 it the gleaming towers of the Celestial City. There also we 
 see portraits that do not fade the eager pilgrim, the muck- 
 raker, the brisk young lad named Ignorance, My Lady 
 Feigning, and that highly respectable gentleman Mr. 
 Worldly- Wiseman . 
 
 Here is a book that does not cease to charm. It is pleas- 
 ant to think that "The Pilgrim's Progress" is still among 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 the "best-sellers." Bunyan's incantation over his readers 
 has not yet lost its power. 
 
 "Would'st thou see 
 
 A man in the clouds and hear him speak to thee? 
 Would'st thou be in a dream and yet not sleep ? 
 Or would'st thou in a moment laugh and weep ? 
 Or would'st thou lose thyself and catch no harm? 
 And find thyself again without a charm? 
 
 Would'st thou read thyself, and read thou knowest not what, 
 And yet know whether thou art blest or not 
 By reading the same lines? O then come hither 
 And lay my book, thy head and heart together." 
 
 \ 
 SAMUEL McCnoRD CROTHERS. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, MASS., May 1st, 1918. 
 
ANNOTATIONS 
 
 "BY MEN OF VARIOUS PROFESSIONS" 
 
 So far as the immediate didactic purpose is concerned, the 
 Pilgrim's Progress needs little explanation. A few obsolete 
 words and phrases there are, but the theological teaching is 
 made clear by the author. Bunyan acted as his own inter- 
 preter and explained what he meant by his allegory, giving 
 chapter and verse for his doctrines. 
 
 But we continue to read the book not for what Bunyan de- 
 liberately put into it, but for what we get out of it. We read 
 the text in the light of our own experience and not of his. 
 Lord Brougham sarcastically remarked of a certain writer, 
 "Although he did not always understand his own meaning, 
 he always contrived to make it intelligible to us." Bunyan 
 undoubtedly understood his own meaning, but there are other 
 meanings, or at least other applications that occur to each 
 reader. He was quite content that it should be so. He 
 would allow us to get what good we may from his parables. 
 
 "Let Truth be free 
 
 To make her sallies upon Thee and Me 
 Which way it pleases God." 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress is a book for practical idealists who 
 have learned to say with Mr. Honest, "It happeneth to us 
 as it happeneth to wayfaring men, sometimes our way is clean, 
 sometimes foul, sometimes, up-hill sometimes down-hill, we 
 are seldom at a certainty. The wind is not always at our 
 backs nor is every one a friend whom we meet within the way. 
 We have met with some notable rubs already, and what are 
 
xvi ANNOTATIONS 
 
 behind we know not, but for the most part we find it true that 
 has been talked of old; a good man must suffer trouble." 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress might be annotated by men of vari- 
 ous professions, each reminded by some "notable rub" in his 
 own experience, of some scene already familiar to his imagi- 
 nation. One may be allowed to suggest some of these com- 
 ments. 
 
 The Slough of Despond. The Conscientious Teacher's Note. 
 
 "In my classroom I have been watching two boys wallow- 
 ing in the slough of despond. They are in the state of mind 
 described by Milton, 'in those grammatic flats and shallows 
 where they stuck unreasonably to learn a few words w r ith 
 lamentable construction.' As for their lessons, I cannot tell 
 which is worse; but in their characters I see a difference. 
 Poor Pliable gives a desperate effort or two and gets out the 
 easiest way, which is the side nearest his own house. But 
 for the other I have good hope. He is still in the mire, but 
 he never turns his back on a difficulty. I trust I may yet be 
 for him the man called Help. That is what a teacher is for." 
 
 The Town of Morality. Note by a Social Reformer. 
 
 "I have just come from a committee meeting. Some of 
 our best citizens were there, and there was much talk, but 
 nothing came of it. Mr. Worldly-wise-man was in the chair, 
 and there were reports from Mr. Legality and his son Mr. 
 Civility. They 'pointed with pride, and viewed with alarm' 
 after the manner of their kind. They are proud of what they 
 are and alarmed at any unusual righteousness. From what 
 they said I was led to suspect that, as in Bunyan's time, there 
 are in the town of Morality many houses to let. * But why 
 call it morality? When will men learn that morality is not 
 a town but a road, and the truly moral thing is to keep mov- 
 ing ? Mr. Evangelist was right. ' Do you see yonder wicket 
 gate?' The man said 'No.' 'Do you see yonder shining 
 
ANNOTATIONS xvii 
 
 light?' He said, 'I think I do.' Then said Evangelist, 
 'Keep that light in your eye and go directly thereto, so thou 
 shalt see the Gate, at which when thou knockest it shall be 
 told thee what thou shalt do.' 
 
 "How like a breath of fresh air that is! We are out of the 
 dull little town. We are on the open road." 
 
 The Interpreter s House. The Humanist's Note. 
 
 "My great enemy is the man of the literal mind. He is a 
 devotee of facts. He never tires of talking about * things as 
 they are.' But what does it profit a man to know how things 
 are if he does not know what they mean ? All great literature 
 is interpretative. It is the House of the Interpreter. 'So 
 they drew towards the House (The House of the Interpreter), 
 and when they came to the door they heard great talk.' 
 
 "The dry-as-dust pedant what is he but the man with 
 the muck-rake who never looks up at the golden crown, but 
 diligently rakes up the bits of straw upon the floor? Every 
 true humanist joins with Christiana in her impulsive prayer, 
 'O deliver us from this muck-rake.'" 
 
 The Hill Difficulty. Note by a Genial Puritan. 
 
 "People have a false idea of the work of the Puritan. He 
 is looked upon as an ungenial fellow who delights in putting 
 difficulties in the way of people who are intent on having a 
 good time. The fact is that his one desire is to remove diffi- 
 culties in the path of decent people who want to do their duty. 
 Do you remember the conversation of the pilgrims when they 
 rested in the arbor half-way up the Hill Difficulty ? The little 
 boy said, 'My mother told me that the way to Heaven is up 
 a ladder and the way to Hell is down a hill.' The boy was 
 willing to face the difficulties that were inevitable, but he saw 
 no reason why the situation should not be reversed. 'The 
 day is coming when in my opinion going down-hill will be the 
 hardest of all.' 
 
xviii ANNOTATIONS 
 
 "There you have the whole matter in a nutshell. We must 
 establish conditions under which it will be easier to do right 
 and harder to do wrong." 
 
 Vanity Fair. The Satirist. 
 
 "Humor and satire both deal with incongruities observed 
 in human conduct and character. The field of the humorist 
 is as wide as humanity, but there is only one sin that demands 
 the lash of the satirist, and that is hypocrisy. The smug 
 traders of Vanity Fair cannot be caricatured. The cruellest 
 punishment is to allow them to speak for themselves. Satire 
 is only realism ruthlessly applied to people who are not real." 
 
 Doubting Castle. The Thinker. 
 
 "I have been following some lines of thought which have 
 brought me to a strange depression of spirits. Nothing seems 
 worth while. How exactly Bunyan described my case. I 
 left the main travelled highway, and crossed By-Path 
 meadow, till I found myself in the power of Giant Despair. 
 
 "I have just read again the passage where Christian re- 
 members that he has a key in his own bosom which he is per- 
 suaded can open any lock in Doubting Castle. 'Then said 
 Hopeful, "That's good news, brother, pluck it out of thy 
 bosom and try."' 
 
 "That was what William James meant by 'the will to be- 
 lieve.' What if it should prove true that every man carries 
 about in his own bosom a key which, if properly used, will 
 unlock his particular dungeon. The word of a wholesome 
 philosophy is, 'Pluck it out and try.' 
 
 "I like that touch of Bunyan's about the Iron Gate 
 'That lock went damnable hard, yet the key did open it.' 
 And I like that allusion to Giant Despair's occasional weak- 
 ness ' Sometimes in sunshine weather he fell into fits.' Even 
 the most consistent pessimist is subject to fits of cheerful- 
 ness." 
 
ANNOTATIONS xix 
 
 At the River. The Soldier. 
 
 "One who faces death as a soldier does learns that courage 
 is a much more common quality than most people think. It 
 is the distant and imagined peril that men fear. Among the 
 pilgrims were many timid people. But at the river's brink, 
 Mr. Feeble- mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Despon- 
 dency go forward with cheerful confidence. Not much is 
 said, everything is simple and manly. The tremulous ques- 
 tions about salvation have no place in the last hour. Why 
 should Mr. Honest be afraid of dying? Mr. Honest in his 
 lifetime had spoken to one Good Conscience to meet him 
 there, which he also did, and lent him his hand and so helped 
 him over. As for Mr. Valiant-f or- truth, all that needs to be 
 said is, 'So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for 
 him on the other side.'" 
 
 SAMUEL McCnoRD CROTHERS. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK 
 
 WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand 
 Thus for to write, I did not understand 
 That I at all should make a little book 
 In such a mode; nay, I had undertook 
 To make another; which when almost done, 
 Before I was aware I this begun. 
 
 And thus it was: I, writing of the way 
 And race of saints, in this our gospel day, 
 Fell suddenly into an allegory 
 About their journey, and the way to glory, 
 In more than twenty things which I set down; 
 This done, I twenty more had in my crown, 
 And they again began to multiply, 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
 Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out 
 The book that I already am about. 
 
 Well, so I did; but yet I did not think 
 To show to all the world my pen and ink 
 In such a mode; I only thought to make 
 I knew not what: nor did I undertake 
 Thereby to please my neighbor: no, not I; 
 I did it mine own self to gratify. 
 
 Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
 In this my scribble; nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself in doing this 
 From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. 
 
 Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
 And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 
 For having now my method by the end, 
 Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penn'd 
 It down, until at last it came to be 
 For length and breadth the bigness which you see. 
 
 Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, 
 I show'd them others, that I might see whether 
 I 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 They would condemn them, or them justify: 
 And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die; 
 Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so; 
 Some said, It might do good; others said, No. 
 
 Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
 Which was the best thing to be done by me: 
 ' At last I thought, Since you are thus divided, 
 I print it will, and so the case decided. 
 
 For, thought I, Some, I see, would have it done, 
 Though others in that channel do not run. 
 To prove, then, who advised for the best, 
 Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. 
 
 I further thought, if now I did deny 
 Those that would have it thus, to gratify; 
 I did not know but hinder them I might 
 Of that which would to them be great delight. 
 
 For those that were not for its coming forth, 
 I said to them, Offend you I am loth, 
 Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, 
 Forbear to judge, till you do further see. 
 
 If that thou wilt not read, let it alone; 
 Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone: 
 Yea, that I might them better palliate, 
 I did too with them thus expostulate: 
 
 May I not write in such a style as this? 
 In such a method too, and yet not miss 
 My end, thy good ? Why may it not be done ? 
 Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none. 
 Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops 
 Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, 
 Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either, 
 But treasures up the fruit they yield together; 
 Yea, so commixes both, that in her fruit 
 None can distinguish this from that: they suit 
 Her well, when hungry; but if she be full, 
 She spues out both, and makes their blessings null. 
 
 You see the ways the fisherman doth take 
 To catch the fish ; what engines doth he make ! 
 Behold how he engageth all his wits; 
 Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets: 
 Yet fish there be, that neither hook, nor line, 
 Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine; 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 They must be groped for, and be tickled too, 
 Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do. 
 
 How doth the fowler seek to catch his game 
 By divers means, all which one cannot name? 
 His gun, his nets, his lime- twigs, light, and bell; 
 He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell 
 Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these 
 Will make him master of what fowls he please. 
 Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this ; 
 Yet, if he does so, that bird he will miss. 
 
 If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, 
 And may be found too in an oyster shell; 
 If things that promise nothing do contain 
 What better is than gold; who will disdain, 
 That have an inkling of it, there to look, 
 That they may find it? Now my little book 
 (Though void of all those paintings that may make 
 It with this or the other man to take) 
 Is not without those things that do excel 
 What do in brave, but empty notions dwell. 
 
 Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, 
 That this your book will stand, when soundly tried. 
 
 Why, what's the matter? It is dark. What tho'? 
 But it is feigned: What of that, I trow? 
 Some men, by feigning words as dark as mine, 
 Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine. 
 
 But they w r ant solidness. Speak man thy mind. 
 They drown' d the weak; metaphors make us blind. 
 
 Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen 
 Of him that writeth things divine to men; 
 But must I needs want solidness, because 
 By metaphors I speak? Were not God's laws, 
 His gospel laws, in olden time held forth 
 By types, shadows, and metaphors? Yet loth 
 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 Gnd out what by pins and loops, 
 By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams, 
 By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, 
 God speaketh to him. And happy is he 
 That finds the light and grace that in them be. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude 
 That I want solidness, that I am rude: 
 All things solid in show, not solid be; 
 All things in parables despise not we, 
 Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, 
 And things that good are of our souls bereave. 
 
 My dark and cloudy words they do but hold 
 The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. 
 
 The prophets used much by metaphors 
 To set forth truth; yea, whoso considers 
 Christ, His apostles too, shall plainly see 
 That truths to this day in such mantles be. 
 
 Am I afraid to say that holy writ, 
 Which for its style and phrase puts dow r n all wit, 
 Is everywhere so full of all these things 
 Dark figures, allegories ? Yet there springs 
 From that same book that lustre, and those rays 
 Of light, that turns our darkest nights to days. 
 
 Come, let my carper to his life now look, 
 And find there darker lines than in my book 
 He findeth any; yea, and let him know, 
 That in his best things there are worse lines too. 
 
 May we but stand before impartial men, 
 To his poor one I dare adventure ten, 
 That they will take my meaning in these lines 
 Far better than his lies in silver shrines. 
 Come, truth, although in swaddling-clouts, I find, 
 Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind, 
 Pleases the understanding, makes the will 
 Submit; the memory too it doth fill 
 With what doth our imagination please; 
 Likewise it tends our troubles to appease. 
 
 Sound words I know Timothy is to use, 
 And old wives' fables he is to refuse; 
 But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid 
 The use of parables; in which lay hid 
 That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were 
 Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. 
 
 Let me add one word more, O Man of God ! 
 Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had 
 Put forth my matter in another dress, 
 Or that I had in things been more express? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 5 
 
 Three things let me propound, then I submit 
 To those that are my betters, as is fit. 
 
 1. I find not that I am denied the use 
 Of this my method, so I no abuse 
 
 Put on the words, things, readers; or be rude 
 In handling figure or similitude, 
 In application; but, all that I may, 
 Seek the advance of truth this or that way. 
 Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave 
 (Example too, and that from them that have 
 God better pleased by their words or ways, 
 Than any man that breatheth nowadays) 
 Thus to express my mind, thus to declare 
 Things unto thee, that excellentest are. 
 
 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write 
 Dialogue- wise; yet no man doth them slight 
 For writing so: indeed if they abuse 
 
 Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use 
 
 To that intent; but yet let Truth be free 
 
 To make her sallies upon thee and me, 
 
 Which way it pleases God. For who knows how, 
 
 Better than He that taught us first to plough, 
 
 To guide our mind and pens for His design? 
 
 And He makes base things usher in divine. 
 
 3. I find that holy writ, in many places, 
 
 Hath semblance with this method, where the cases 
 Do call for one thing, to set forth another: 
 Use it I may, then, and yet nothing smother 
 Truth's golden beams; nay, by this method may 
 Make it cast forth its rays as light as day. 
 
 And now, before I do put up my pen, 
 I'll show the profit of my book, and then 
 Commit both thee and it unto that Hand 
 That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand. 
 
 This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes 
 The man that seeks the everlasting prize: 
 It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes, 
 What he leaves undone, also what he does: 
 It also shows you how he runs, and runs 
 Till he unto the gate of glory comes. 
 
 It shows, too, who set out for life amain, 
 As if the lasting crown they would attain; 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Here also you may see the reason why 
 They lose their labor, and like fools do die. 
 
 This book will make a traveller of thee 
 If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be; 
 It will direct thee to the Holy Land, 
 If thou wilt its directions understand: 
 Yea, it will make the slothful active be; 
 The blind also delightful things to see. 
 
 Art thou for something rare and profitable? 
 Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable? 
 Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember 
 From New-year's day to the last of December? 
 Then read my fancies, they will stick like burrs, 
 And may be, to the helpless, comforters. 
 
 This book is writ in such a dialect 
 As may the minds of listless men affect: 
 It seems a novelty, and yet contains 
 Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. 
 
 Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy? 
 Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? 
 Wouldst thou read riddles, and their explanation? 
 Or else be drowned, in thy contemplation ? 
 Dost thou love picking meat? Or wouldst thou see 
 A man i' th' 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 know'st not what, 
 And yet know whether thou art blest or not, 
 By reading the same lines? O then come hither, 
 And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM 
 
 THE FIRST PART 
 
 As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted 
 on a certain place where was a den, and laid me down in that 
 The Jail place to sleep; and, as I slept, I dreamed a 
 
 dream. I dreamed, and, behold, I saw a man 
 iizir. 33. clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, 
 jy^iTT 4 with his face from his own house, a book in his 
 Acts xm. si. hand, and a great burden upon his back. I 
 His outcry, looked, and saw him open the book, and read 
 
 therein; and, as he read, he wept and trem- 
 bled; and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with 
 a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I do?'* 
 
 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 
 
 This world. . . 
 
 silent long, because that his trouble increased. 
 Wherefore at length he brake his mind to his wife and chil- 
 dren; and thus he began to talk to them: O my dear 
 wife, said he, and you the children of my bowels, I, your 
 dear friend, am in myself undone, by reason of a burden 
 that lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am for certain in- 
 formed that this our city will be burnt with fire from heaven; 
 in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my 
 wife, and you my sweet babes, shall miserably come to 
 ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way of escape 
 
 can be found, whereby we may be delivered. 
 $ e %%y v At this his relations were sore amazed; not 
 
 for that they believed that what he had said 
 to them was true, but because they thought that some 
 
 7 
 
8 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore, it draw- 
 ing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle 
 his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. But the 
 night was as troublesome to him as the day; wherefore, 
 instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So, when 
 the morning was come, they would know how he did; he told 
 them, Worse and worse. He also set to talking to them 
 again; but they began to be hardened, They 
 a]so thought to drive away his distemper by 
 harsh and surly carriages to him; sometimes 
 they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and some- 
 times they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to 
 retire himself to his chamber to pray for and pity them, and 
 also to condole his own misery; he would also walk solitarily 
 in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying : and 
 thus for some days he spent his time. 
 
 Now I saw, upon a time, when he was walking in the fields, 
 
 that he was, as he was wont, reading in his book, and greatly 
 
 distressed in his mind; and as he read, he 
 
 Acts xvi. 30, 31. 
 
 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 
 could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a 
 man named Evangelist coming to him, 1 and asked, Where- 
 fore dost thou cry? He answered, Sir, I 
 
 Heb. ix. 27. _ % . 
 
 Job xvi. 21, 22. perceive by the book in my hand that I am 
 condemned to die, and after that to come to 
 judgment; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, 
 nor able to do the second. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this 
 life is attended with so many evils? The man answered, 
 
 1 Christian no sooner leaves the world but meets 
 Evangelist, who lovingly him greets 
 With tidings of another; and doth show 
 Him how to m uut to that from this below. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 9 
 
 Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back will 
 sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall 
 into Tophet. And, sir, if I be not fit to go to 
 
 prison, I am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from 
 
 thence to execution; and the thoughts of these things make 
 
 me cry. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why stand- 
 est thou still ? He answered, Because I know 
 
 Conviction of the . 
 
 necessity of flying, not whither to go. 1 hen he gave him a parch- 
 ment roll, and there was written within, "Fly 
 
 from the wrath to come." 
 
 The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist 
 
 very carefully, said, Whither must I fly? Then said Evan- 
 gelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide 
 
 PS. cxix.ws. field, Do you see yonder Wicket-gate ? The 
 man said, No. Then said the other, Do you 
 see y n( ^ er shining light? He said, I think 
 
 cannot be found I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light 
 
 without the Word. , 
 
 in your eye, and go up directly thereto: so 
 shalt thou see the gate; at which, when thou knockest, it 
 shall be told thee what thou shalt do. 
 
 So I saw in my dream 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 
 
 Luke xiv. 26. 
 
 him to return; but the man put his fingers in 
 
 his ears, and ran on, crying, Life ! life ! eternal 
 life ! So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the 
 middle of the plain. 
 
 The neighbors also came out to see him run; and as he ran, 
 
 some mocked, others threatened, and some 
 >om the i wratii to cried after him to return; and among those 
 
 that did so there were two that resolved to 
 
 the world. fetch him back bv force. The name of the one 
 
 Jer. xx. 10. 
 
 was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pli- 
 able. Now, by this time, the man was got a good distance 
 
10 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 from them; but, however, they were resolved to pursue him,. 
 
 which they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then 
 
 said the man, Neighbors, wherefore are you 
 
 Obstinate and . 
 
 Pliable follow come ? They said, To persuade you to go back 
 with us. But he said, That can by no means 
 be; you dwell, said he, in the City of Destruction, the place 
 also where I was born: I see it to be so; and, dying there, 
 sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a 
 place that burns with fire and brimstone: be content, good 
 neighbors, and go along with me. 
 
 OBST. What ! said Obstinate, and leave our 
 
 Obstinate. 
 
 friends and our comforts behind us ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, said Christian (for that was his name), be- 
 rit . .. cause that all which you shall forsake is not 
 
 Lfinstian. " 
 
 2 Cor. iv. is. worthy to be compared with a little of that 
 that I am seeking to enjoy; and if you will 
 go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare 
 
 as I myself; for there, where I go, is enough and to spare. 
 
 Come away, and prove my words. 
 
 OBST. What are the things you seek, since you leave all 
 
 the world to find thein? 
 
 . CHR. ' I seek an inheritance incorruptible, 
 
 undefined, and that fadeth not away; and it is 
 laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be be- 
 
 Heb. xi. 16. , . . , 
 
 stowed, at the time appointed, on them that 
 diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my book. 
 
 OBST. Tush! said Obstinate, away with your book; will 
 you go back with us, or no ? 
 
 CHR. No, not I, said the other; because I 
 
 Luke ix. 62. i.iii 
 
 have laid my hand to the plough. 
 
 OBST. Come, then, Neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, 
 and go home without him; there is a company of these 
 crazed-headed coxcombs that, when they take a fancy by 
 the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can 
 render a reason. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 11 
 
 Pu. Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good 
 Christian says is true, the things he looks after are better 
 than ours: my heart inclines to go with my neighbor. 
 
 OBST. What ! more fools still ? Be ruled by me, and go 
 back; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead 
 you ? Go back, go back, and be wise. 
 
 CHR. Nay, but do thou come with me, 
 
 Christian ana 
 
 Obstinate pull for Neighbor Pliable; there are such things to be 
 
 Pliable s soul. , & . 
 
 had which 1 spoke of, and many more glories 
 
 besides. If you believe not me, read here in 
 Heb. ix, J7-21. this book; and for the truth of what is expressed 
 
 therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of 
 Him that made it. 
 
 PLI. Well, Neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to 
 
 come to a point; I intend to go along with this 
 
 Pliable contented 
 
 to go with good man, and to cast in my lot with him: but, 
 
 Christian. . . " -. ., 
 
 my good companion, do you know the way to 
 this desired place ? 
 
 CHR. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, 
 to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall 
 receive instruction about the way. 
 
 PLI. Come, then, good neighbor, let us be going. 
 Then they went both together. 
 
 OBST. And I will go back to my place, said 
 Obstinate; I will be no companion of such mis- 
 led, fantastical fellows. 
 
 Now I saw in mv dream, that when Ob- 
 
 1 OIK between 
 
 Christian and stinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable 
 
 Pliable. 
 
 went talking over the plain; and thus they 
 began their discourse: 
 
 CHR. Come, Neighbor 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. 
 
12 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 PLI. Come, Neighbor Christian, since there is none but 
 us two here, tell me now further, what the things are, and 
 how to be enjoyed, whither we are going? 
 
 CHR. I can better conceive of them with my mind than 
 
 speak of them with my tongue: but yet, since 
 
 uwpeafable vou are desirous to know, I will read of them 
 
 in my book. 
 
 PLI. And do you think that the words of your book are 
 certainly true? 
 
 . CHR. Yes, verily; for it was made by Him 
 
 that cannot lie. 
 
 PLI. Well said : what things are they ? 
 
 isa xlv 17 CHR. There is an endless kingdom to be 
 
 inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us, 
 
 John x. 27, 28, 29. i i i i i 
 
 that we may inhabit that kingdom forever. 
 PLI. Well said; and what else? 
 
 CHR. There are crowns of glorv to be given 
 
 2 Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 Rev. Hi. 4. us, and garments that will make us shine like 
 
 Matt. xiii. 43. fl .^ n PI 
 
 the sun in the firmament of heaven. 
 PLI. This is excellent; and what else? 
 
 CHR. There shall be no more crying, nor 
 Rev. viL 16, 17. sorrow ; for He that is owner of the place will 
 
 Chap. xxi. 4. . ,, , 
 
 wipe all tears from our eyes. 
 Pu. And what company shall we have there? 
 
 CHR. There we shall be with seraphims and 
 
 cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes 
 to look on them. There also you shall meet with thousands 
 
 and ten thousands that have gone before usi 
 17. to that place; none of them are hurtful, but; 
 
 loving and holy; every one walking in the sight 
 of God, and standing in His presence with acceptance for- 
 . . ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders 
 
 liev. iv. 4. 
 
 with their golden crowns; there we shall see' 
 
 Chap. xiv. 1-5. . . .11- 
 
 the holy virgins with their golden harps; then 
 
 we shall see men that by the world were cut ii 
 
 pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 13 
 
 for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, 
 and clothed with immortality as with a gar- 
 
 Cor. v. 2, 3, 5. 
 
 merit. 
 
 PLI. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart. 
 But are these things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to 
 be sharers thereof? 
 
 CHR. The Lord, the Governor of that coun- 
 
 i$a. Iv. 1, z. 
 
 John vii. 37. try, hath recorded that in this book; the sub- 
 Rev. xxi. 6. stance of which is,Jf we be truly willing to have 
 
 Chap. xxii. 17. ., . , .. p i > 
 
 it, he will bestow it upon us freely.j 
 
 PLI. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these 
 things. Come on, let us mend our pace. 
 
 CHR. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this 
 burden that is upon my back. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this 
 talk, they drew near to a very miry slough, that was in the 
 midst of the plain; and they being heedless, 
 1 J did both fal1 suddenly into the bog. The name 
 of the slough was Despond. Here therefore 
 they wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with 
 the dirt; and Christian, because of the burden that was on 
 his back, began to sink in the mire. 
 
 PLI. Then said Pliable, Ah, Neighbor Christian, where 
 are you now ? 
 
 CHR. Truly, said Christian, I do not know. 
 PLI. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily 
 said to his fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me 
 all this while of? If we have such ill speed at 
 to bl liabh!* h our first setting out, what may we expect be- 
 twixt this and our journey's end ? May I get 
 out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country 
 alone for me. And with that he gave a desperate struggle 
 or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough 
 which was next to his own house. So away he went, and 
 Christian saw him no more. 
 
 Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of 
 
14 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Despond alone: but still he endeavored to struggle to that 
 side of the slough that was still further from 
 k^eeks still his own house, and next to the Wicket-gate; 
 
 cause of the burden that was upon his back. 
 But I beheld in my dream that a man came to him, whose 
 name was Help, and asked him what he did there. 
 
 CHR. Sir, said Christian, I was 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 you not look for the 
 
 The promises. 
 
 steps ? 
 
 CHR. Fear followed me so hard that I fled the next way, 
 and fell in. 
 
 Help lifts him HELP. Then, said he, give me thy hand ! 
 
 out - So he gave him his hand, and he drew him out, 
 
 and set him upon sound ground, and bid him 
 
 Ps. xl. 2. 
 
 go on his way. 
 
 Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, 
 
 Sir, wherefore (since over this place is the way from the 
 
 City of Destruction to yonder gate) is it that 
 
 What makes the 
 
 Slough of this plat is not mended, that poor travellers 
 
 might go thither with more security ? And he 
 said unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be 
 mended; it is the descent whither the scum and filth that 
 attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore 
 it is called the Slough of Despond; for still as the sinner is 
 awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul 
 many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, 
 which all of them get together, and settle in this place. 
 And this is the reason of the badness of this ground. 
 
 It is not the pleasure of the King that this 
 
 place should remain so bad. His laborers also 
 
 have, by the direction of His Majesty's surveyors, been for 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 15 
 
 above this sixteen hundred years employed about this patch 
 of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended: yea, and to 
 my knowledge, said he, here hath been swallowed up at least 
 twenty thousand cart-loads, yea, millions of wholesome in- 
 structions, that have at all seasons been brought from all 
 places of the King's dominions (and they that can tell say 
 they are the best materials to make good ground of the place), 
 if so be it might have been mended; but it is the Slough of 
 Despond still, and so will be, when they have done what 
 they can. 
 
 True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain 
 good and substantial steps, placed even through the very 
 The romises of m ^ s ^ f this slough; but at such time as this 
 forgiveness and place doth much spue out its filth, as it doth 
 
 acceptance to life 
 
 by faith in against change of weather, these steps are 
 
 hardly seen; or if they be, men, through the 
 
 dizziness of their heads, step besides; and then they are 
 bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps 
 
 1 5am. xn. 23. . & 
 
 be there; but the ground is good, when they 
 are once got in at the gate. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got 
 home to his house again. So his neighbors came to visit 
 
 him; and some of them called him wise man 
 
 Pliable got home . . 
 
 and is visited of for coming back, and some called him fool for 
 
 hazarding himself with Christian: others, again, 
 
 did mock at his cowardliness; saying, Surely, since you began 
 
 to venture, I would not have been so base as to have given 
 
 out for a few difficulties. So Pliable sat sneak- 
 
 II is entertain- . 
 
 ment by them at mg among them. But at last he got more con- 
 fidence, and then they all turned their tails, 
 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 
 
16 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 way of each other. The gentleman's name that met him 
 was Mr. Worldly- Wiseman : he dwelt in the town of Car- 
 
 nal-Policy, a very great town, and also hard 
 Wiseman * by from whence Christian came. This man 
 SkSfiS? then meeting with Christian, and having 
 
 some inkling of him, for Christian's setting 
 forth from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, 
 not only in the town where he dwelt, but also it began to be 
 the town -talk in some other places, Mr. Worldly- Wiseman 
 therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his labori- 
 ous going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, 
 began thus to enter into some talk with Christian. 
 
 WORLD. How now, good fellow, whither 
 Mr. Worldly- away after this burdened manner? 
 
 CHR - A burdened manner indeed, as ever 
 I think poor creature had. And whereas you 
 ask me, Whither away ? I tell you, sir, I am going to yon- 
 der 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 
 
 1 Cor. vii. 29. 
 
 burden that I cannot take that pleasure in them 
 as formerly: methinks I am as if I had none. 
 
 WORLD. Wilt thou hearken to me if I give thee coun- 
 sel? 
 
 CHR. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need of good 
 counsel. 
 
 WORLD. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all 
 speed get thyself rid of thy burden; for thou 
 wilt never be settled in thy mind till then; nor 
 
 cJi. canst thou en iy the benefits f the blessing 
 
 which God hath bestowed upon thee till then. 
 
 CHR. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this 
 
 heavy burden; but get it off myself I cannot, nor is there a 
 
 man in our country that can take it off my shoulders; there- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 17 
 
 fore 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 bur- 
 den? 
 
 CHR. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and 
 honorable person; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. 
 
 WORLD. I beshrew him for his counsel: there is not a 
 more dangerous and troublesome way in the world than is 
 Mr Worldl ^at * nto w ^ich ne hath directed thee; and that 
 Wiseman thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his 
 
 condemned *->.* 
 
 Evangelist's counsel. Thou has met with something (as I 
 perceive) already; for I see the dirt of the 
 Slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is the be- 
 ginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in 
 that way. Hear me, I am older than thou ! thou art like to 
 meet with, in the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, 
 painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, 
 darkness, and, in . a word, death, and what not ? These 
 things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many 
 testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast 
 away himself, by giving heed to a stranger ? 
 
 CHR. Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible 
 to me than are all these things which you have 
 
 The frame of the 
 
 heart of young mentioned; nay, methmks I care not what I 
 
 Christians. . , , IT i 
 
 meet with in the way, so be 1 can also meet 
 with deliverance from my burden. 
 
 WORLD. How earnest thou by thy burden at first? 
 CHR. By reading this book in my hand. 
 WORLD. I thought so; and it is happened unto thee as 
 to other weak men, who, meddling with things 
 Wiseman does too high for them, do suddenly fall into thy 
 ^hould^e Serious distractions ; which distractions do not only 
 tius'sttb unman men (as thine I perceive has done thee), 
 
 but they run them upon desperate ventures, to 
 obtain they know not what. 
 
18 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 
 gj many dangers attend it? Especially since (hadst thou 
 
 but patience to hear me) I could direct thee to 
 
 Worldly prefers the obtaining of what thou desirest, without 
 
 tne dangers that thou in this way wilt run thy- 
 
 self into; yea, and the remedy is at hand. 
 Besides, I will add, that instead of these dangers, thou shalt 
 meet with much safety, friendship, and content. 
 CHR. Pray, sir, open this secret to me. 
 WORLD. Why, in yonder village (the village is named 
 Morality) there dwells a gentleman, whose name is Legality, 
 a very judicious man, and a man of a very good name, that 
 has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are, from 
 their shoulders: yea, to my knowledge he hath done a great 
 deal of good this way; ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure 
 those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their 
 burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped 
 presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and 
 if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young 
 man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to 
 speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say, 
 thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not 
 minded to go back to thy former habitation, as indeed I 
 would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and 
 children to thee to this village, where there are houses now 
 stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable 
 rates; provision is there also cheap and good; and that which 
 will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure there thou 
 shalt live by honest neighbors, in credit and good fashion. 
 
 Now was Christian somewhat at a stand, but 
 
 presently he concluded: If this be true which 
 Wuxmans ^ n j g g en tl e man hath said, my wisest course 
 
 is to take his advice: and with that he thus 
 further spoke. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 19 
 
 CHR. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's 
 house ? 
 
 Mount Sinai. 
 
 WORLD. Do you see yonder high hill ? 
 CHR. Yes, very well. 
 
 WORLD. By that hill you must go, and the first house 
 you come at is his. 
 
 So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality's 
 
 house for help; but behold, when he was got now hard by 
 
 the hill, it seemed so high, and also that side 
 
 Christian afraid * . .1 . ii i v i i 
 
 that Mount Oi it that was next the wayside did hang so 
 
 an n hL W head/ alL much over > that Christian was afraid to ven- 
 ture further, lest the hill should fall on his 
 head; wherefore there he stood still, and he wot not what 
 to do. Also his burden, now, seemed heavier to him than 
 while he was in his way. There came also 
 V^xvi' 18 ' flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian 
 afraid that he should be burned. Here there- 
 fore he sweat, and did quake for fear. And now he began 
 . to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly- 
 
 Wiseman's counsel. And with that he saw 
 Evangelist coming to meet him; at the sight also of whom he 
 began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew 
 
 Evangelist nndeth i i i i 
 
 Christian under nearer and nearer; and coming up to him, he 
 ^looke*' looked upon him with a severe and dreadful 
 %fa ely vpon countenance, and thus began to reason with 
 
 Christian : 
 
 EVAN. What doest thou here, Christian? said he: at 
 which words Christian knew not what to answer: wherefore 
 
 at present he stood speechless before him. 
 
 Evangelist . 
 
 reasons afresh Then said Evangelist further, Art not thou the 
 man that I found crying without the walls of 
 the City of Destruction ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, dear sir, I am the man. 
 
 EVAN. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicket- 
 gate? 
 
 CHR. Yes, dear sir, said Christian. 
 
20 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 EVAN. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned 
 aside? for thou art now out of the way. 
 
 CHR. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had, got over 
 the Slough of Despond, who persuaded me that I might, in 
 the village before me, find a man that could take off my 
 burden. 
 
 EVAN. What was he? 
 
 CHR. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much to 
 me, and got me at last to yield; so I came hither: but when 
 I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over the way, I suddenly 
 made a stand, lest it should fall on my head. 
 
 EVAN. What said that gentleman to you ? 
 
 CHR. W T hy, he asked me whither I was going; and I told 
 him. 
 
 EVAN. And what said he then? 
 
 CHR. He asked me if I had a family; and I told him. 
 But, said I, I am so loaden with the burden that is on my 
 back that I cannot take pleasure in them as formerly. 
 
 EVAN. And what said he then? 
 
 CHR. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden ; and I 
 told him 'twas ease that I sought. And said I, I am there- 
 fore going to yonder gate, to receive further direction how 
 I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said that he 
 would show me a better way, and short, not so attended 
 with difficulties as the way, sir, that you set me; which way, 
 said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house that hath 
 skill to take off these burdens. So I believed him, and 
 turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon 
 eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, and 
 beheld things as they are, I stopped for fear (as I said) of 
 danger: but I now know not what to do. 
 
 EVAN. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I 
 
 may show thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. 
 
 25 Then said Evangelist, "See that ye refuse not 
 
 him that speaketh; for if they escaped not who 
 
 refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 21 
 
 escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven." 
 Evangelist ^ e sa ^ moreover, "Now the just shall live by 
 
 convinces faith; but if anv man draws back, my soul shall 
 
 Christian of 
 
 his error. have no pleasure in him." He also did thus 
 
 apply them : Thou art the man that art running 
 into this misery, thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the 
 Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace, 
 even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition. 
 
 Then Christian fell down at his 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 man- 
 Mwiciii'.S.' ner f sm an d blasphemies shall be forgiven 
 unto men. Be not faithless, but believing. 
 Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up trem- 
 bling, as at first, before Evangelist. 
 
 Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earnest 
 heed to the things that I shall tell thee of. I will now show 
 Mr Worldly- * nee wno ^ was that deluded thee, and who it 
 Wiseman was a ] so j- o wnom ne sen t thee. The man that 
 
 described by 
 
 Evangelist. me t thee is one Worldly- Wiseman, and rightly 
 
 is he so called: partly, because he favoreth 
 
 only the doctrine of this world (therefore he 
 
 always goes to the town of Morality to church) ; and partly, 
 
 Gal. vi 12 because he loveth that doctrine best, for it 
 
 saveth him from the Cross. And because he 
 
 Lvangelist 
 
 discovers the is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh 
 Mr. Worldly- to pervert my ways, though right. Now there 
 are three things in this man's counsel that thou 
 must utterly abhor: 
 
 1. His turning thee out of the way. 
 
 2. His laboring to render the Cross odious to thee. 
 
 3. And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto 
 he administration of death. 1 
 
 1 When Christians unto carnal men give ear, 
 Out of their way they go, and pay for't dear; 
 For Master Worldly- Wiseman can but show 
 A saint the way to bondage and to woe. 
 
22 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; 
 
 yea, and thine own consenting thereto: because this is to 
 
 reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a 
 
 Lukexiii 24 Worldly- Wiseman. The Lord says, "Strive to 
 
 enter in at the strait gate," the gate to which 
 
 Matt. vii. 13, 14. j gent thee . for? gtrait ig the gate that leadeth 
 
 unto life, and few there be that find it." From this little 
 Wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath this wicked 
 man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruc- 
 tion; hate therefore his turning thee out of the way, and 
 abhor thyself for hearkening to him. 
 
 Secondly, Thou must abhor his laboring to render the 
 Cross odious unto thee: for thou art to prefer it "before the 
 Heb xi 25 26 treasures in Egypt." Besides, the King of 
 Mark viii. 35. Glory hath told thee, that "he that will save 
 Matt. x. 39. his life shall lose it": and "he that comes after 
 him, and hates not his father, and mother, and 
 wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his 
 own life also, he cannot be my disciple." I say therefore, 
 for a man to labor to persuade thee, that that shall be thy 
 death, without which the truth hath said thou canst not have 
 eternal life; This doctrine thou must abhor. 
 
 Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way 
 that leadeth to the ministration of death. And for this thou 
 must consider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable 
 that person was to deliver thee from thy burden. 
 
 He to whom thou wast sent for ease being by name Le- 
 gality, is the son of the bondwoman which now is, and is in 
 bondage with her children; and is, in a mvs- 
 
 T he bond- 
 woman, tery, 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 23 
 
 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 a cheat; and 
 for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he 
 is but a hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there 
 is nothing in all this noise, that thou hast heard of these 
 sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, 
 by turning thee from the w r ay 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 
 
 Gal. in. 10. 11 
 
 the law are under the curse; for it is written, 
 Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which 
 are written in the book of the law to do them." 
 
 Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began 
 to cry out lamentably, even cursing the time in which he 
 met with Mr. Worldly- Wiseman, still calling himself a thou- 
 sand fools for hearkening to his counsel: he also was greatly 
 ashamed to think that this gentleman's arguments, flowing 
 only from the flesh, should have that prevalency with him, 
 to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself 
 again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows: 
 
 CHR. Sir, what think you? is there hopes? may I now 
 go back and go up to the Wicket-gate ? Shall 
 ian if he I not be abandoned for this, and sent back 
 from thence ashamed? I am sorry I have 
 hearkened to this man's counsel: but may my 
 be forgiven? 
 
 EVAN. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very 
 great, for by it thou hast committed two evils: 
 thou hast forsaken the way that is good, to 
 tread in forbidden paths; yet will the man 
 at the gate receive thee, for he has good-will for men; 
 
24 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, 
 
 "lest thou perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled 
 
 but a little." Then did Christian address 
 
 Ps. it. last. 
 
 himself to go back; and Evangelist, after he 
 had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God- 
 speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake he to 
 any man by the way; nor if any asked him, would he 
 vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all 
 the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no 
 means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way 
 which he left to follow Mr. Worldly- Wiseman's counsel. So 
 in process of time Christian got up to the gate. Now 
 over the gate there was written, "Knock and 
 it shall be opened unto you/' He knocked 
 therefore, more than once or twice, 1 saying : 
 
 May I now enter here? Will he within 
 Open to sorry me, though I have been 
 An undeserving rebel? Then shall I 
 Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high. 
 
 At last there came a grave person to the gate named Good- 
 will, who asked who was there? and whence he came? and 
 what he would have? 
 
 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-WILL. I am willing with all my heart, 
 
 The gate will be 
 
 opened to broken- said he; and with that he opened the gate. 
 
 hearted sinners. ~ , ~, . . .1 , i 
 
 So when Christian was stepping in, the other 
 gave him a pull. Then said Christian, What means that? 
 
 1 He that will enter in must first, without 
 Stand knocking at the gate, nor need he doubt 
 That is a knocker but to enter In; 
 For God can love him, and forgive his sin. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 25 
 
 The other told him, A little distance from this gate, there is 
 
 erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is 
 
 those \hat l enter the captain; from thence both he and them that 
 
 the Strait Gate. ^ w ^ h | m sho()t am)WS at t h ose t h at come 
 
 up to this gate, if haply they may die before 
 they can enter in. Then said Christian, I re- 
 am* trembling. j oice ^ trem bj e So when he was got in, the 
 
 man of the gate asked him who directed him thither. 
 
 CHR. Evangelist bid me come hither and 
 
 Talk between _ ., T T i\ 11 i ,1 , 
 
 Good-will and knock (as I did) ; and he said that you, sir, 
 would tell me what I must do. 
 
 GOOD-WILL. An open door is set before thee, and no man 
 can shut it. 
 
 CHR. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards. 
 
 GOOD- WILL. But how is it that you came alone? 
 
 CHR. Because none of my neighbors saw their danger, 
 as I saw mine. 
 
 GOOD- WILL. Did any of them know of your coming? 
 
 CHR. Yes, my wife and children saw me at the first, and 
 called after me to turn again; also some of my neighbors 
 stood crying, and calling after me to return; but I put my 
 fingers in my ears, and so came on my way. 
 
 GOOD-WILL. But did none of them follow you, to per- 
 suade you to go back? 
 
 CHR. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they 
 saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate went railing 
 back, but Pliable came with me a little way. 
 
 GOOD-WILL. But why did he not come through? 
 
 C|HR. We indeed came both together, until we came at 
 the Slough of Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell. 
 
 A man ma have tnen was my ne ighbor Pliable discouraged, 
 
 company when anc [ would not adventure further. Wherefore 
 
 he sets out for . . 
 
 heaven, and yet getting out again on that side next to his own 
 house, he told me I should possess the brave 
 country alone for him; so he went his way, and I came mine: 
 he after Obstinate, and I to this gate. 
 
26 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 GOOD-WILL. Then said Good-will, Alas ! poor man, is the 
 celestial glory of so small esteem with him that he counteth 
 it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to 
 obtain it? 
 
 CHR. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of 
 Pliable; and if I should also say all the truth of myself, it 
 will appear there is no betterment 'twixt him 
 kimtelf and myself. 'Tis true, he went back to his 
 n own hou se, but I also turned aside to go in 
 the way of death, being persuaded thereto by 
 the carnal arguments of one Mr. Worldly- Wiseman. 
 
 GOOD- WILL. Oh, did he light upon you ? What ! he 
 would have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. 
 Legality. They are both of them a very cheat; but did you 
 take his counsel? 
 
 CHR. Yes, as far as I durst: I went to find out Mr. 
 Legality, until I thought that the mountain that stands by 
 his house would have fallen upon my head ; wherefore there 
 I was forced to stop. 
 
 GOOD-WILL. That mountain has been the death of many, 
 and will be the death of many more; 'tis well you escaped 
 being by it dashed in pieces. 
 
 CHR. Why, truly I do not know what had become of me 
 there, had not Evangelist happily met me again, as I was 
 musing in the midst of my dumps: but 'twas 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 favor is this to me, that yet I am 
 admitted entrance here ! 
 
 Christian GOOD-WILL. We make no objections against 
 
 comforted again. any> notwithstanding all that they have done 
 before they come hither, they in no wise are 
 cast out; and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with 
 me, and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 27 
 
 before thee; dost thou see this narrow way? THAT is the 
 way thou must go; it was cast up by the pa- 
 
 Chnstian . . . 
 
 directed yet on tnarchs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles; 
 and it is as straight as a rule can make it: This 
 is the way thou must go. 
 
 CHR. But, said Christian, are there no 
 
 Christian afraid 
 
 of losing his turnings nor windings by which a stranger may 
 
 way. , - 
 
 lose the way? 
 
 GOOD-WILL. Yes, there are many ways BUTT down upon 
 
 this, and they are crooked, and wide; but thus thou mayest 
 
 distinguish the right from the wrong, the right 
 
 Matt. vti. 14. . 
 
 only being straight and narrow. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream that Christian asked him further 
 if he could not help him off with his burden 
 
 that was u p n nis back ; for as vet ne had not 
 
 got rid thereof, nor could he by any means get 
 it off without help. 
 
 There is no ^ e ^^ hi m > As to thy burden, be content to 
 
 deliverance from ^ ear ft until thou comest to the place of de- 
 
 the guilt and * 
 
 burden of sin liverance; for there it will fall from thy back 
 
 but by the death , 
 
 and blood of itself. 
 
 Then Christian began to gird up his loins, 
 and to address himself to his journey. So the other told 
 him that by that he was gone some distance from the gate, 
 he would come at the house of the Interpreter, at whose 
 door he should knock, and he would show him excellent 
 things. Then Christian took his leave of his friend, and he 
 again bid him Godspeed. 
 , . .. Then he went on till he came at the house 
 
 Christian comes 
 
 to the house of of the Interpreter, where he knocked over and 
 
 the Interpreter. .11 j i j 
 
 over; at last one came to the door, and asked 
 Who was there? 
 
 CHR. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaint- 
 ance of the goodman of this house to call here for my profit; 
 I would therefore speak with the master of the house. So 
 
28 THE xILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 he called for the master of the house, who after a little time 
 came to Christian, and asked him what he would have. 
 
 CHR. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from 
 the City of Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion; 
 
 and I was told by the man, that stands at the 
 entertained gate, at the head of this way, that if I called 
 
 here, you would show me excellent things, such 
 as would be a help to me in my journey. 
 
 INTER. Then said the Interpreter, Come in, I will show 
 thee that which will be profitable to thee. So he commanded 
 
 his man to light the candle, and bid Christian 
 
 Illumination. iiii- 
 
 follow him: so he had him into a private room, 
 and bid his man open a door; the which when he had done, 
 
 Christian saw the picture of a very grave per- 
 a son hung up against the wall; and this was the 
 f fashion of it: It had eyes lifted up to heaven, 
 
 the best of books in his hand, the law of truth 
 was written upon his lips, the world was behind his back; it 
 stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang 
 over its head. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 INTER. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thou- 
 sand; he can beget children, travail in birth 
 Gal. iv. 19. with children, and nurse them himself when 
 
 they are born. And whereas thou seest him 
 with his eyes lift up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, 
 and the law of truth writ on his lips, it is to show thee that 
 his work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners; even 
 as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men; And 
 
 whereas thou seest the world as cast behind 
 e pu ng f nim and that a crown hangs over his head, 
 
 that is to show thee that slighting and despis- 
 ing 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 29 
 
 have showed thee this picture first, because the man whose 
 
 picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord of the place 
 
 whither thou art going hath authorized to be 
 
 Why he showed . 
 
 him me picture thy guide in all difficult places thou mayest 
 meet with in the way; wherefore take good 
 heed to what I have showed thee, and bear well in thy mind 
 what thou hast seen, lest in thy journey thou meet with 
 some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes 
 down to death. 
 
 .Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very 
 large parlor that was full of dust, because never swept; the 
 which, after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter 
 called for a man to sweep. Now when he began to sweep, 
 the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian 
 had almost therewith been choked. Then said the 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? 
 
 INTER. The Interpreter answered, This parlor 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 corrup- 
 tions that have defiled the whole man. He that began to 
 sweep at first, is the Law; but she that brought water, and 
 did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. Now, whereas thou sawest 
 that so soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly 
 about that the room by him could not be cleansed, but that 
 thou wast almost choked therewith; this is to show thee, that . 
 the Law, instead of cleansing the heart (by its 
 
 horn. im. 6. 
 
 i for. xv. 56. working) from sin, doth revive, put strength 
 
 Rom. v. 20. . , . . . , . . , , 
 
 into, and increase it in the soul, even as it doth 
 discover and forbid it, but doth not give power to subdue. 
 
 Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with 
 water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure; that is to 
 show thee that when the gospel comes in the sweet and 
 
30 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 precious influences thereof to the heart, then I say, even 
 John xv 3 as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by 
 
 Epk. v. 26. sprinkling the floor with water, so is sin van- 
 
 Acts xv, 9. 
 
 Rom. xvi. 25, 26. quished and subdued, and the soul made clean, 
 through the faith of it, and consequently fit 
 
 for the King of Glory to inhabit. 
 
 I saw moreover in my dream, that the Interpreter took 
 
 him by the hand, and had him into a little room, where sat 
 two little children, each one in his chair. The 
 
 He snowed him 
 
 Passion and name of the eldest was Passion, and the name 
 of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be 
 much discontent; but Patience was very quiet. Then Chris- 
 tian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion ? 
 The interpreter answered, The governor of 
 hav^aUnow. them would have him stay for his best things 
 til1 the beginning of the next year; but he will 
 have all now, .but Patience is willing to wait. 
 Then I saw that one came to Passion, and 
 brought him a bag of treasure, and poured it 
 down at his feet, the which he took up and re- 
 joiced therein; and withal, laughed Patience 
 
 to SCOrn * But l beheld but a while > and he 
 
 had lavished all away, and had nothing left 
 him but rags. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound 
 this matter more fully to me. 
 
 INTER. So he said, These two lads are figures: Passion, 
 
 of the men of this world; and Patience, of the men of that 
 
 which is to come; for as here thou seest, Pas- 
 
 Jxponded. s * n W ^l bave a ^ n W ' tn * S vear tnat i s to sav 
 
 in this world; so are the men of this world: 
 they must have all their good things now, they cannot stay 
 till next year, that is, until the next world, for their portion 
 of good. That proverb, "A bird in the hand is worth two 
 in the bush," is of more authority with them than are all 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 31 
 
 the divine testimonies of the good of the world to come. 
 But as thou sawest that he had quickly lav- 
 
 The worldly man . " 
 
 /or a bird in the ished all away, and had presently lett aim 
 nothing but rags, so will it be with all such 
 
 men at the end of this world. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has 
 
 the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts. (1) Be- 
 cause he stays for the best things; (2) and also 
 
 b^isdom. the because he will have the glory of his, when the 
 
 other hath nothing but rags. 
 INTER. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of 
 
 the next world will never wear out; but these are suddenly 
 gone. Therefore Passion had not so much 
 
 Things that are 
 
 first must give reason to laugh at Patience, because he had his 
 
 place; but things . 
 
 that are last are good things first, as Patience will have to laugh 
 at Passion, because he had his best things last; 
 for first must give place to last, because last must have his 
 time to come: but last gives place to nothing, for there is not 
 another to succeed. He therefore that hath his portion first, 
 must needs have a time to spend it; but he that has his por- 
 tion last, must have it lastingly. Therefore it 
 
 LiUke xin. 
 
 Dives had his is said of Dives, "In thy lifetime thou receivedst 
 
 thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil 
 
 things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." 
 
 CHR. Then I perceive 'tis not best to covet things that 
 
 are now, but to wait for things to come. 
 
 INTER. You say truth: "For the things that are seen are 
 
 temporal; but the things that are not seen are eternal." But 
 
 though this be so, yet since things present, and 
 
 The first things our fleshly appetite, are such near neighbors 
 
 are but temporal. . , . , , , . 
 
 one to another; and again, because things to 
 
 come, and carnal sense, are such strangers one to another: 
 
 therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fall into 
 
 amity, and that distance is so continued between the second. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that the Interpreter took Chris- 
 
32 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 if that thou seest 
 the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt 
 also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the 
 back side of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil 
 in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast, but 
 secretly, into the fire. 
 
 Then said Christian, What means this? The Interpreter 
 
 answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of 
 
 His grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart: 
 
 by the means of which, notwithstanding what the devil can 
 
 do, the souls of His people prove gracious still. 
 
 And in that thou sawest that the man stood 
 
 behind the wall to maintain the fire, this is to teach thee that 
 
 it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is 
 
 maintained in the soul. 
 
 I saw also that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, 
 and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately 
 palace, beautiful to behold; at the sight of which Christian 
 was greatly delighted. He saw also upon the top thereof 
 certain persons 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 de- 
 sirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man, at a 
 little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book, 
 and his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that 
 should enter therein. He saw also, that in the doorway 
 stood many men in armor to keep it, being resolved to do to 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 33 
 
 the men that enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now 
 was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, when every 
 man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a 
 
 man of a very stout countenance come up to 
 ^ n vdiani the man that sat there to write, saying, Set 
 
 down my name, sir: the which when he had 
 done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put a helmet upon 
 his head, and rush toward the door upon the armed men, 
 who laid upon him with deadly force; but the man, not at 
 all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. 
 So, after he had received and given many wounds to those 
 
 that attempted to keep him out, he cut his 
 
 Acts xiv. 22. 
 
 way through them all, and pressed forward 
 into the palace; at which there was a pleasant voice heard 
 from those that were within, even of those that walked upon 
 the top of the palace, saying 
 
 Come in, come in; 
 
 Eternal glory thou shalt win. 
 
 So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as they. 
 Then Christian smiled, and said, I think verily I know the 
 meaning of this. 
 
 Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said 
 
 the Interpreter, till I have showed thee a little 
 
 {Jjf'JjJ!* 1 an more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way. 
 
 So he took him by the hand again, and led 
 
 him into a very dark room, where there sat a man in an 
 
 iron cage. 
 
 Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad. He sat with 
 his eyes looking down to the ground, his hands folded to- 
 gether; and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then 
 said Christian, What means this ? At which the Interpreter 
 bid him talk with the man. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou? 
 The man answered, I am what I was not once. 
 
34 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. What wast thou once? 
 
 MAN. The man said, I was once a fair and 
 
 Luke mn. 13. 
 
 flourishing professor, both in mine own eyes, 
 and also in the eyes of others : I once was, as I thought, fair 
 for the Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts 
 that I should get thither. 
 
 CHR. Well, but what art thou now? 
 
 MAN. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it, 
 as in this iron cage. I cannot get out; Oh, now I cannot. 
 
 CHR. But how earnest thou in this condition ? 
 
 MAN. I left off to watch and be sober; I laid the reins 
 upon the neck of my lusts; I sinned against the light of the 
 Word, and the goodness of God; I have grieved the Spirit, 
 and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me; 
 I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me; I have so 
 hardened my heart, that I cannot repent. 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no 
 hopes for such a man as this? Ask him, said the Inter- 
 preter. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, Is there no hope but you 
 must be kept in this iron cage of despair? 
 
 MAN. No, none at all. 
 
 CHR. Why ? the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. 
 Heb. vi. 6. MAN. I have crucified him to myself afresh, 
 
 I have despised his person, I have despised his 
 
 Luke xix. 14. , . , , 
 
 righteousness, 1 have counted his blood an 
 unholy thing; I have done despite to the Spirit 
 of Grace: therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, 
 and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, 
 dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings of certain judg- 
 ment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an 
 adversary. 
 
 CHR. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? 
 
 MAN. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; 
 in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 35 
 
 delight; but now every one of those things also bite me, and 
 gnaw me like a burning worm. 
 
 CHR. But canst thou not now repent and turn ? 
 
 MAN. God hath denied 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. O eternity ! eternity ! how shall I grapple with the 
 misery that I must meet with in eternity ! 
 
 INTER. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this 
 man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting 
 caution to thee. 
 
 CHR. Well, said Christian, this is fearful; God help me to 
 watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause 
 of this man's misery. Sir, is it not time for me to go on my 
 way now? 
 
 INTER. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing more, and 
 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 Inter- 
 preter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so 
 doing. So he began and said, This night, as I was in my 
 sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew exceeding 
 black; also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, 
 that it put me into an agony. So I looked up in my dream, 
 and saw the clouds racked 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 
 i Tke'ss. iv. heaven : they were all in flaming fire ; also the 
 2 ? rLsl {. 8. heavens were on a burning flame. I heard 
 'Rev 1 xx Ti-u then a voice saying, "Arise, ye dead, and come 
 Ific ^l; 1 16* 17 ^ 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 
 
36 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 looked upward; and some sought to hide themselves under 
 
 the mountains. Then I saw the Man that sat 
 Dan. C x.7~ S ' upon the cloud open the book, and bid the 
 
 world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of 
 a fierce flame that issued out and came from before him, a 
 
 convenient distance betwixt him and them, as 
 Dan. l vii. l\ to. betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar. 
 
 I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended 
 on the Man that sat on the cloud, " Gather together the tares, 
 
 the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the 
 
 Matt. iii. 12. . 
 
 Chap. xiii. so. burning lake. And with that, the bottomless 
 pit opened, just whereabout I stood; out of the 
 
 mouth of which there came in an abundant manner smoke, 
 
 and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to 
 the same persons, "Gather my wheat into the 
 garner." And with that I saw many catched 
 
 i Tkess. iv. 16, U p and carried away into the clouds, but I was 
 left behind. I also sought to hide myself, but 
 
 I could not, for the Man that sat upon the cloud still kept 
 his eye upon me: my sins also came into my 
 
 Rom. it. 14, 15. . . 
 
 mind; and my conscience did accuse me on 
 every side. Upon this I awaked from my sleep. 
 
 CHR. But what was it that made you so afraid of this 
 sight ? 
 
 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 be- 
 hind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I 
 stood: my conscience, too, afflicted me; and as I thought, the 
 Judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in 
 his countenance. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 37 
 
 may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the 
 way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his 
 loins, and to address himself to his journey. Then said the 
 Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Chris- 
 tian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the city. So 
 Christian went on his way, saying 
 
 Here I have seen things rare, and profitable; 
 Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable 
 In what I have begun to take in hand; 
 Then let me think on them, and understand 
 Wherefore they showed me was, and let me be 
 Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream that the highway up which Chris- 
 tian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that 
 wall is called Salvation. Up this way there- 
 fore did burdened Christian run, but not with- 
 out great difficulty, because of the load on his back. 
 
 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, 
 and upon that place stood a Cross, and a little below in the 
 bottom, a Sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as 
 Christian came up with the Cross his burden loosed from off 
 his shoulders, and fell from off his back; and began to tum- 
 ble, and so continued to do, till it came to the mouth of the 
 Sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw r it no more. 1 
 
 Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and 
 
 W hen (jod 
 
 releases us of said with a merry heart, He hath given me rest 
 
 our guilt and i i i i i_ ' i j i mi 
 
 burden, we are by his sorrow, and lite by his death. Ihen he 
 ol. stood still a while, to look and wonder; for it 
 
 was very surprising to him, that the sight of 
 the Cross should thus ease him of his bur- 
 den. He looked therefore, and looked again, even till the 
 
 1 Who's this? the Pilgrim. How! 'tis very true, 
 Old things are pass'd away, all's become new. 
 Strange! he's another man, upon my word, 
 They be fine feathers that make a fine bird. 
 
38. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 springs that were in his head sent the waters down his 
 
 cheeks. Now as he stood looking and \veeping, behold three 
 
 Shining Ones came to him and saluted him with 
 
 "Peace be to thee." So the first said to him, 
 
 Zech Hi 4 "Thy sins be forgiven": the second stripped 
 
 E k { 13 him of his rags, and clothed him with change 
 
 of raiment; the third also set a mark in his 
 
 forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he 
 
 bid him look on as he ran, and that he should give it in 
 
 at the Celestial Gate. So they went their way. Then 
 
 Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing 
 
 A Christian can Thus far did I come loaden with my sin; 
 
 Tnt k Z h n God Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in, 
 
 doth give him the Till I came hither: What a place is this ! 
 
 joy of his heart. Mugt here ^ ^ beginning of my bliss ? 
 
 Must here the burden fall from off my back? 
 Must here the strings that bound it to me, crack? 
 Blest Cross ! blest Sepulchre ! blest rather be 
 The Man that there was put to shame for me. 
 
 I saw then in my dream that he went on thus, even until 
 
 he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, 
 
 three men fast asleep, with fetters upon their 
 
 Sloth, and heels. The name of the one was Simple, an- 
 
 other Sloth, and the third Presumption. 
 Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, 
 if peradventure he might awake them, and cried, You are 
 like them that sleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea 
 is under you, a gulf that hath no bottom. Awake therefore 
 and come away; be willing also, and I will 
 help you off with your irons. He also told 
 There is no them, If he that goeth about like a roaring lion 
 
 wUl comes b y> y u wil1 certainly become a prey to 
 
 openeth not the ^ teeth. With that they looked upon him, 
 and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, I 
 see no danger; Sloth said, Yet a little more sleep; and Prr 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 39 
 
 sumption said, Every vat must stand upon his own bottom. 
 And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on 
 his way. 
 
 Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger 
 should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely 
 offered to help them, both by awakening of them, counselling 
 of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons. 
 And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men come 
 tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of the narrow way; 
 and they made up apace to him. The name of the one 
 was Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, 
 as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with 
 him into discourse: 
 
 CHR. Gentlemen, whence came you, and 
 ^hither do you go ? 
 
 FORM, and HYP. We were born in the land 
 of Vainglory, and are going for praise to Mount Zion. 
 
 CHR. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth 
 
 at the beginning of the way ? Know you not that it is writ- 
 
 ten, that "He that cometh not in by the door, 
 
 John z.l. 11.11 i 
 
 but climbeth up some other way, the same is 
 a thief and a robber"? 
 
 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 
 They that come revealed will ? 
 
 . and HYP. They told him, that as 
 
 think that they' f or that, he needed not to trouble his head 
 something in thereabout; for what they did they had cus- 
 
 vindication of i i i i < 
 
 their own torn for; and could produce, if need were, tes- 
 
 timony that would witness it for more than a 
 thousand years. 
 
40 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHH. Bui, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial 
 at law ? 
 
 FORM, and HYP. They told him, that custom, it being of 
 so long a standing as above a thousand years, would doubt- 
 less now be admitted as a thing legal, by an impartial judge; 
 and besides, said they, if we get into the way, what's matter 
 which way we get in ? if we are in, we are in; thou art but in 
 the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate; and we 
 are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall; wherein 
 now is thy condition better than ours? 
 
 CHR. I walk by the rule of my Master; you walk by the 
 rude working of your fancies. You are counted thieves al- 
 ready, by the Lord of the way; therefore I doubt you will 
 not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in 
 by yourselves, without his direction; and shall go out by 
 yourselves, without his mercy. 
 
 To this they made him but little answer; only they bid 
 him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every 
 man in his way, without much conference one with another; 
 save that these two men told Christian, that as to laws and 
 ordinances, they doubted not but they should as conscien- 
 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 
 neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. 
 
 CHR. By laws and ordinances you will not 
 
 ual. n. 16. . -iii 
 
 be saved, since you came not in by the door. 
 And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by 
 the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you say, to 
 r , . .. , . cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a 
 
 Lnnstian has got * 
 
 his Lord's coat token of his kindness to me, for I had nothing 
 
 on his back, and 
 
 is comforteth but rags before. And besides, thus I comfort 
 
 myself as I go: Surely, think I, when I come 
 
 to the gate of the City, the Lord thereof will know me for 
 
 good, since I have his coat on my back; a coat that he gave 
 
THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS 41 
 
 me freely in the day that he stripped me of my rags. I 
 have, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of 
 ahowlth^his which perhaps you have taken no notice, which 
 mark and his one Q f mv L or( j' s mO st intimate associates fixed 
 there in the day that my burden fell off my 
 shoulders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given 
 me a roll sealed to comfort me by reading, as I go on in the 
 way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in 
 token of my certain going in after it: all which things I doubt 
 you want, and want them because you came not in at the 
 gate. 
 
 To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked 
 
 upon each other and laughed. Then I saw that they went 
 
 on all, save that Christian kept before, who 
 
 Christian haft 
 
 talk with had no more talk but with himself, and that 
 
 sometimes sighingly, and sometimes comfort- 
 ably; also he would be often reading in the roll that one of 
 the Shining Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed. 
 
 I beheld then that they all went on till they came to the 
 foot of the Hill Difficulty, at the bottom of which was a 
 spring. There was also in the same place two 
 other wa y s besides that which came straight 
 from the gate; one turned to the left hand, 
 and the other to the right, at the bottom of the hill; but the 
 narrow way lay right up the hill (and the name of the going 
 up the side of the hill is called Difficulty). 
 
 /6-a. xhx. 10. . 
 
 Christian now went to the spring, and drank 
 thereof to refresh himself, and then began to go up the hill, 
 saying 
 
 The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, 
 
 The difficulty will not me offend; 
 
 For I perceive the way to life lies here: 
 
 Come, pluck up, heart; let's neither faint nor fear: 
 
 Better, though difficult, the right way to go, 
 
 Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe. 
 
42 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 
 turning out of also that these two ways might meet again 
 
 with that up which Christian went, on the 
 other side of the hill; therefore they were resolved to go in 
 those ways. (Now the name of one of those ways was Dan- 
 ger, and the name of the other Destruction.) So the one 
 took the way which is called Danger, which led him into a 
 great wood; and the other took directly up the way to De- 
 struction, which led him into a wide field full of dark moun- 
 tains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. 1 
 
 I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, 
 where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from 
 
 going to clambering upon his hands and his 
 frace^^ knees, because of the steepness of the place. 
 
 Now about the midway to the top of the hill 
 was a pleasant arbor, made by the Lord of the hill for the 
 refreshing of weary travellers. Thither therefore Christian 
 got, where also he sat down to rest him. Then he pulled his 
 roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he also 
 now began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment 
 that was given him as he stood by the Cross. Thus pleasing 
 himself a while, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into 
 a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was 
 He that sleeps is almost night; and in his sleep his roll fell out 
 a loser. o f n j s hand. Now as he was sleeping, there 
 
 came one to him, and awaked him, saying "Go 
 
 to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise." 
 
 And with that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him 
 
 on his way, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill. 
 
 Now when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came 
 
 1 Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end? 
 Shall they at all have safety for their friend? 
 No, no; in headstrong manner they set out, 
 And headlong will they fall at last no doubt. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 43 
 
 two men running against him amain; the name of the one 
 was Timorous, and the other Mistrust; to 
 
 Christian meets . 
 
 with Mistrust whom Christian said, Sirs, what s the matter 
 
 and Timorous. , m . _ 
 
 you run the wrong way? Timorous answered 
 that they were going to the City of Zion, and had got up 
 that difficult place; but, said he, the farther we go, the more 
 danger we meet with; wherefore we turned, and are going 
 back again. 
 
 Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions 
 in the way, whether sleeping or waking we know not; and we 
 could not think, if we came within reach, but they would 
 presently pull us in pieces. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but 
 whither shall I fly to be safe? If I go back to mine own 
 
 country, that is prepared for fire and brirn- 
 o/fear an '*"*" stone > and J sha11 certainly perish there. If I 
 
 can get to the Celestial City, I am sure to be 
 in safety there. I must venture: to go back is nothing but 
 death; to go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting be- 
 yond 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 heard from the men, he felt in 
 his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein and be 
 
 comforted; but he felt and found it not. Then 
 
 Christian missed /~n . . i. . i i 
 
 A/.V mil wherein was Christian in great distress, and knew not 
 effort.. 10 take what to d ; for he wanted that which used to 
 
 relieve him, and that which should have been 
 his pass into the Celestial City. Here therefore he began to 
 
 be much perplexed, and knew not what to do. 
 jir h-Jrdl Xed At last he bethought himself that he had slept 
 
 in the arbor that is on the side of the hill: and 
 falling down upon his knees, he asked God forgiveness for 
 that his foolish fact, and then went back to look for his roll. 
 But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth 
 the sorrow of Christian's heart ? Sometimes he sighed, some- 
 
44 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 times he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so 
 foolish to fall asleep in that place which was erected only for 
 a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus therefore he 
 went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all the 
 way as he went, if haply he might find his roll, that had been 
 his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus till 
 he came again within sight of the arbor where he sat and 
 slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bring- 
 
 Christian bewails m a ^ am ' 6Ve11 afresll > his 6vil f Bleeping into 
 
 his foolish his mind. Thus therefore he now went on 
 
 Rev. iL 5. bewailing his sinful sleep, saying O wretched 
 
 1 Then. v. 7, 8. ,. T T ,1 . T i , i , . ., , 
 
 man that I am, that I should sleep in the day- 
 time ! that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty ! that I 
 should so indulge the flesh as to use that rest for ease to my 
 flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the 
 relief of the spirits of pilgrims ! How many steps have I 
 took in vain ! (Thus it happened to Israel for their sin, they 
 were sent back again by the way of the Red Sea), and I am 
 made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have 
 trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How 
 far might I have been on my way by this time ! I am made 
 to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have 
 trod but once; yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for 
 the day is almost spent. O that I had not slept ! 
 
 Now by this time he was come to the arbor again, where 
 for a while he sat down and wept; but at last (as Christian 
 
 would have it), looking sorrowfully down under 
 
 Christian findetk . . " 
 
 his roll where he the settle, there he espied his roll ; the which 
 he with trembling and haste catched up, and 
 put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man 
 was, when he had gotten his roll again ! for this roll was the 
 assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired haven, i 
 Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for 
 directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and 
 tears betook himself again to his journey. But oh, how 
 nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! Yet before he 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 45 
 
 got up, the sun went down upon Christian; and this made 
 him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remem- 
 brance, and thus he again began to condole with himself: 
 O thou sinful sleep; how for thy sake am I like to be be- 
 nighted in my journey ! I must walk without the sun, dark- 
 ness must cover the path of my feet, and I must hear the 
 noise of doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep. Now 
 also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous 
 told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of the 
 lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts 
 range in the night for their prey; and if they should meet 
 with me in the dark, how should I shift them ? how should I 
 escape being by them torn in pieces? Thus he went on his 
 way, but while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscar- 
 riage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately 
 palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful; and it 
 stood just by the highway-side. 
 
 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 passage, which 
 was about a furlong off of the porter's lodge; and looking very 
 narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the 
 way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust 
 and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, 
 but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought 
 also himself to go back after them, for he thought nothing 
 ... but death was before him: but the porter at 
 
 the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving 
 that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto 
 him, saying, Is thy strength so small? Fear not the lions, 
 for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith 
 v where it is, and for discovery of those that have none: keep 
 in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee. 1 
 
 
 1 Difficulty's behind, fear is before, 
 Though he's got on the hill, the lions roar; 
 A Christian man is never long at ease, 
 When one fright's gone, another doth him seize. 
 
46 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the 
 lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter; 
 he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he 
 clapt his hands, and went on till he came and stood before 
 the gate where the porter was. Then said Christian to the 
 porter, Sir, what house is this? and may I lodge here to- 
 night? The porter answered, This house was built by the 
 Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief and security of 
 pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was, and whither 
 he was going? 
 
 CHR. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am 
 going to Mount Zion; but because the sun is now set, I de- 
 sire, 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. 
 
 POR. But how doth it happen 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 arbor that stands on the hillside; 
 nay, I had notwithstanding that been here much sooner, but 
 that in my sleep I lost my evidence, and came without it to 
 the brow of the hill; and then feeling for it, and finding it 
 not, I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to the 
 place where I slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I 
 am come. 
 
 POR. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, 
 who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of 
 the family, according to the rules of the house. So Watch- 
 ful the porter rang a bell, at the sound of which came out 
 at the door of the house a grave and beautiful damsel, named 
 Discretion, and asked why she was called. 
 
 The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 47 
 
 City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being weary and 
 benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to-night; so I 
 told him I would call for thee, who, after discourse had with 
 him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even according to the 
 law of the house. 
 
 Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he was 
 going; and he told her. She asked him also, how he got 
 into the way; and he told her. Then she asked him what 
 he had seen and met with in the way; and he told her. And 
 last she asked his name; so he said. It is Christian, and I 
 have so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, be- 
 cause, by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord 
 of the hill, for the relief and security of pilgrims. So she 
 smiled, but the water stood in her eyes; and after a little 
 pause, she said, I will call forth two or three more of the 
 family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, 
 Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with 
 him, had him in to the family; and many of them, meeting 
 him at the threshold of the house, said, Come in, thou blessed 
 of the Lord; this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on 
 purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. Then he bowed his 
 head, and followed them into the house. So when he was 
 come in and set down, they gave him something to drink, 
 and consented together that, until supper was ready, some 
 of them should have some particular discourse with Christian, 
 for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, 
 and Prudence, and Charity to discourse with him: and thus 
 they began: 
 
 PIETY. Come, good Christian, since we have been so 
 loving to you, to receive you into our house this 
 Pwty discourse. n jght, let us, if perhaps we may better ourselves 
 thereby, talk with you of all things that have 
 
 ,ppened to you in your pilgrimage. 
 
 CHR. With a very good will, and I am glad that you are 
 so well disposed. 
 
48 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 PIETY. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a 
 pilgrim's life? 
 
 CHR. I was driven out of my native country 
 
 How Chnsian . 
 
 was driven out of by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears : to 
 wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend 
 me, if I abode in that place where I was. 
 
 PIETY. But how did it happen that you came out of your 
 country this way? 
 
 CHR. It was as God would have it; for when I was under 
 the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go; but 
 by chance there came a man, even to me (as I 
 n was trembling and weeping), whose name is 
 Evangelist, and he directed me to the Wicket- 
 gate, which else I should never have found, and so set me 
 into the way that hath led me directly to this house. 
 
 PIETY. But did you not come by the house of the Inter- 
 preter ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance 
 
 of which will stick by me as long as I live; specially three 
 
 things: to wit, How Christ, in despite of Satan, 
 
 A rehearsal of ..,., . 
 
 what he saw in maintains his work oi grace in the heart; how 
 the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes 
 of God's mercy; and also the dream of him that thought in 
 his sleep the day of judgment was come. 
 
 PIETY. Why, did you hear him tell his dream? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made 
 my heart ache as he was telling of it; but yet I am glad I 
 heard it. 
 
 PIETY. Was that all you saw at the house of the Inter- 
 preter ? 
 
 CHR. No; he took me and had me where he showed me 
 a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that 
 were in it; and how there came a venturous man and cut his 
 way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep 
 him out, and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 49 
 
 glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart; I would 
 have stayed at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but 
 that I knew I had further to go. 
 
 PIETY. And what saw you else in the way? 
 
 CHR. Saw ! Why, I went but a little further, and I saw 
 One, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the tree; 
 and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back 
 (for I groaned under a very heavy burden), but then, it fell 
 down from off me. 'Twas a strange thing to me, for I never 
 saw such a thing before ; yea, and while I stood looking up 
 (for then I could not forbear looking), three Shining Ones 
 came to me. One of them testified that my sins were for- 
 given me; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this 
 broidered coat which you see; and the third set the mark 
 which you see, in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll 
 (and with that he plucked it out of his bosom). 
 
 PIETY. But you saw more than this, did you not? 
 
 CHR. The things that I have told you were the best; yet 
 some other matters I saw, as, namely, I saw three men, Sim- 
 ple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a little out of the 
 way as I came, with irons upon their heels; but do you think 
 I could awake them ! I also saw Formality and Hypocrisy 
 come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to 
 Zion, but they were quickly lost; even as I myself did tell 
 them, but they would not believe: but, above all, I found it 
 hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the 
 lions' mouth; and truly if it had not been for the good man, 
 the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know but that 
 after all I might have gone back again; but now I thank 
 God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me. 
 
 Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, 
 and desired his answer to them. 
 
 Prudence PRUD. Do you not think sometimes of the 
 
 discourses him. country f rom wne nce you came ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, but with much shame and detestation: Truly, 
 
50 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 if I had been mindful of that country from whence I came 
 Christians ou ^> ^ m ight have had opportunity to have re- 
 
 turned; but now I desire a better country, that 
 
 is, a 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 my 
 distasted with countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted; 
 Cogitations. but now all those things are my grief: and 
 
 Christians might I but choose mine own things, I would 
 
 ckowe. choose never to think of those things more; 
 
 liOTIl. VU. xl. 
 
 but when I would be doing of that which is 
 best, that which is worst is with me. 
 
 PRUD. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were 
 vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they 
 are to me golden hours in which such things 
 happen to me. 
 
 PRUD. Can you remember by what means you find your 
 annoyances at times, as if they were vanquished? 
 
 CHR. Yes, when I think what I saw at the Cross, that 
 
 will do it; and when I look upon my broidered 
 
 get* power "* coat, that will do it ; also when I look into the 
 
 2^. roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do 
 
 it; and when my thoughts wax warm about 
 
 whither I am going, that will do it. 
 
 PRUD. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go 
 to Mount Zion? 
 
 CHR. Why, there I hope to see him alive, that did hang 
 dead on the Cross; and there I hope to be 
 
 Why Christian 
 
 would be at rid of all those things that to this day are in 
 
 Mount Zion. , , , 
 
 me an annoyance to me; there they say there is 
 no death, and there I shall dwell with such company as I 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 51 
 
 like best. For to tell you truth, I love him, because I was 
 
 by him eased of my burden, and I am weary 
 
 Ifcp.zS'. 4'. f mv 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 
 s, him. family ? Are you a married man ? 
 
 CHR. I have a wife and four small children. 
 CHAR. And why did you not bring them along with you ? 
 
 Christian we Pt> and said, 
 
 CM&'.k~ 
 
 to his wife and Oh how willingly would I have done it, 
 
 children. . 
 
 but they were all or them utterly averse 
 to my going on pilgrimage. 
 
 CHAR. But you should have talked to them, and have 
 endeavored to have shown them the danger of being behind. 
 Gen xix 14 CHR. So I did, and told them also what 
 
 God had showed to me of the destruction of 
 our city; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and they 
 believed me not. 
 
 CHAR. And did you pray to God that he would bless your 
 counsel to them? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and that with much affection; for you must 
 think that my wife and poor children were very dear 
 unto me. 
 
 CHAR. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and 
 fear of destruction ? for I suppose that destruction was visible 
 enough to you? 
 
 CHR. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also 
 Christian's fear* see m y fears in m y countenance, in my tears, 
 mi P M i be i read &U( ^ a ^ so m mv trem bling under the apprehen- 
 in his very sion of the judgment that did hang over our 
 
 countenance. . . 
 
 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? 
 
52 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and 
 
 my children were given to the foolish delights 
 
 hiswije S and V of youth: so what by one thing, and what 
 
 C ^thh^ n0t by another, they left me to wander in this 
 
 manner alone. 
 
 CHAR. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all 
 that you by words used by way of persuasion to bring them 
 away with you ? 
 
 CHR. Indeed I cannot commend my life; for I am con- 
 scious to myself of many failings therein: I know r also that 
 a man by his conversation may soon overthrow 
 
 Christian's good i . i -11,111 
 
 conversation what by argument or persuasion he doth labor 
 b aiTchMr W en. e to fasten upon others for their good. Yet this 
 I can say, I was very wary of giving them oc- 
 casion, by any unseemly action, to make them averse to 
 going on pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing they would 
 tell me I was too precise, and that I denied myself of things 
 (for their sakes) in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think I 
 may say, that, if what they saw in me did hinder them, it 
 was my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing 
 any wrong to my neighbor. 
 
 i John Hi. 12. CHAR. Indeed, Cain hated his brother, be- 
 
 cause his own works were evil, and his brother's 
 
 Christian clear 
 
 of their blood if righteous; and if thy wife and children have 
 been offended with thee for this, they thereby 
 show themselves to be implacable to good, and 
 thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking to- 
 gether until supper was ready. So when they had made 
 ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table 
 
 What Christian 
 
 had to his was furnished with fat things, and with wine 
 
 that was well refined; and all their talk at the 
 
 Their talk at table was about the Lord of the hill; as, namely, 
 about what he had done, and wherefore he did 
 
 what he did, and why he had builded that house: and, by 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 53 
 
 what they said, I perceived that he had been a great warrior, 
 and had fought with and slain him that had 
 
 neb. u. 14, 15. 
 
 the power or death, but not without great 
 danger to himself, which made me love him the more. 
 
 For, as they said, and as I believe (said Christian), he did 
 it with the loss of much blood; but that which put glory of 
 grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to 
 his country. And besides, there were some of them of the 
 household that said, they had seen and spoke with him since 
 he did die on the Cross; and they have attested, that they 
 had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor pil- 
 grims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the 
 west. 
 
 They moreover gave an instance of what they affirmed, 
 and that was, He had stripped himself of his glory that he 
 Christ makes might do this for the poor; and that they heard 
 vrines of him say and affirm, That he would not dwell 
 
 oeggars. t 
 
 i Sam.ti. 8 in the Mountain of Zion alone. They said 
 moreover, That he had made many pilgrims 
 
 princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their 
 
 original had been the dunghill. 
 
 Thus they discoursed together till late at night, and after 
 
 they had committed themselves to their Lord for protection, 
 they betook themselves to rest. The pilgrim 
 
 bMamber. tne y laid in a large upper chamber, whose win- 
 dow opened towards the sun rising: the name 
 
 of the chamber was Peace; where he slept till break of day, 
 
 and then he awqke and sang 
 
 Where am I now ! Is this the love and care 
 Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are ! 
 Thus to provide ! That I should be forgiven ! 
 And dwell already the next door to heaven ! 
 
 So in the morning they all got up, and after some more 
 discourse, they told him that he should not depart till they 
 
54 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 had showed him the rarities of that place. And first they 
 had him into the study, where they showed 
 
 Christian had -i iiji i , i i 
 
 into the study, him records ot the greatest antiquity; m which. 
 a^what he saw ag j rememDer m y dream, they showed him 
 first the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that 
 he was the son of the Ancient of Days, and came by an 
 eternal generation. Here also was more fully recorded the 
 acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that 
 he had taken into his service; and how he had placed them 
 in such habitations that could neither by length of days nor 
 decays of nature be dissolved. 
 
 Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some 
 of his servants had done: as, how they had subdued king- 
 . doms, wrought righteousness, obtained prom- 
 
 ises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the 
 violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword; out of weak- 
 ness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned 
 to flight the armies of the aliens. 
 
 Then they read again in another part of the records of the 
 house, where it was showed how willing their Lord was to 
 receive into his favor any, even any, though they in time 
 past had offered great affronts to his person and proceedings. 
 Here also were several other histories of many other famous 
 things, of all which Christian had a view. As of things both 
 ancient and modern: together with prophecies and predic- 
 tions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both 
 to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort 
 and solace of pilgrims. 
 
 The next day they took him and had him into the armory, 
 where they showed him all manner of furniture, which their 
 Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, 
 shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and 
 shoes that would not wear out. And there was 
 here enough of this to harness out as many men for the 
 service of their Lord as there be stars in the heaven for mul- 
 titude. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 55 
 
 They also showed him some of the engines with which 
 
 some of his servants had done wonderful things. They 
 
 showed him Moses' rod, the hammer and nail 
 
 Christian is . . 
 
 made to see with which Jael slew Sisera, the pitchers, trum- 
 
 pets, and lamps too, with which Gideon put to 
 flight the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the 
 ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They 
 showed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such 
 mighty feats: they showed him moreover the sling and stone 
 with which David slew Goliath of Gath; and the sword also 
 with which their Lord will kill the man of sin, in the day 
 that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed him besides 
 many excellent things, with which Christian was much de- 
 lighted. This done, they went to their rest again. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up 
 
 to go forwards, but they desired him to stay till the next day 
 
 . also; and then, said they, we will, if the day be 
 
 tnnstian showed 
 
 the Delectable clear, show you the Delectable Mountains, 
 
 which, they said, would yet further add to his 
 
 comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than 
 
 the place where at present he was: so he consented and 
 
 stayed. When the morning was up, they had him to the 
 
 top of the house, and bid him look south; so 
 
 7*a. xxxm. 16, 17. r 
 
 he did; and behold, at a great distance he saw 
 a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, 
 vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and 
 fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the 
 name of the country: they said it was Immanuel's Land; and 
 it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the 
 pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence thou 
 mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, as the shepherds 
 that live there will make appear. 
 
 Now he bethought himself of setting forward, 
 f^!rd nsets and the y were willing he should. But first, 
 
 said they, let us go into the armory. So they 
 did; and when he came there, they harnessed him from 
 
56 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 head to foot, with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should 
 meet with assaults in the way. He being 
 C awlfmed ni therefore thus accoutred walketh out with his 
 friends to the gate, and there he asked the 
 porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by, 1 Then the porter an- 
 swered, Yes. 
 
 CHR. Pray did you know hirn? said he. 
 POR. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful. 
 CHR. Oh, said Christian, I know him; he is my townsman, 
 my near neighbor, he comes from the place where I was 
 born: how far do you think he may be before? 
 POR. He is got by this time below the hill. 
 
 CHR. Well, said Christian, good porter, 
 
 How Christian 
 
 and the porter the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy 
 
 greet at parting. , , , . e . 
 
 blessings much increase, for the kindness 
 that thou hast showed to me. 
 
 Then he began to go forward, but Discretion, Piety, Char- 
 ity, and Prudence would accompany him down to the foot 
 
 of the hill. So they went on together, reiterat- 
 HumiUatwn! in their f rmer discourses till they came to 
 
 go down the hill. Then said Christian, As it 
 was difficult coming up, so (so far as I can see) it is dangerous 
 going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is; for it is a hard 
 matter for a man to go down into the Valley of Humiliation, 
 as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way; therefore, 
 said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill. 
 So he began to go down, but very warily, yet he caught a 
 slip or two. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, 
 when Christian was gone down to the bottom of the hill, 
 gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of 
 raisins; and then he went on his way. 
 
 1 Whilst Christian is among his godly friends, 
 Their golden mouths, make him sufficient 'mends 
 For all his griefs; and when they let him go, 
 He's clad with northern steel from top to toe. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 57 
 
 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 
 
 Christian no . . 
 
 armor for meet him; his name is Apollyon. Then did 
 
 Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his 
 
 mind whether to go back, or to stand his ground. But 
 
 he considered again, that he had no armor for his back, 
 and therefore thought that to turn the back to 
 
 Resolution an the him, might give him greater advantage with 
 
 ease to pierce him with his darts; therefore 
 he resolved to venture, and stand his ground. 
 For, thought he, had I no more in mine eye than the saving 
 of my life, 'twould be the best way to stand. 
 
 So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster 
 was hideous to behold: he was clothed with scales like a fish 
 (and they are his pride); he had wings like a dragon, feet 
 like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke; and 
 his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come 
 up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful counte- 
 nance, and thus began to question with him: 
 
 APOL. Whence come you? and whither are you bound? 
 CHR. I am come from the City of Destruc- 
 6 tion, which is the place of all evil, and am 
 
 and going to the City of Zion. 
 
 APOL. By this I perceive thou art one of my 
 
 subjects, for all that country is mine; and I am the prince and 
 
 god of it. How is it then that thou hast run away from thy 
 
 king? Were it not that I hope thou mayest do me more 
 
 service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the ground. 
 
 CHR. I was born indeed in your dominions, but your 
 
 service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not 
 
 live on, "for the wages of sin is death"; there- 
 
 Rom. vi. 23. 
 
 fore when I was come to years, I did as other 
 considerate persons do, look out, if perhaps I might mend 
 mvself. 
 
58 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 APOL. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his 
 subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee: but 
 since thou complainest of thy service and 
 wages, be content to go back; what our country 
 will afford, I do here promise to give thee. 
 
 CHR. But I have let myself to another, even to the 
 King of princes, and how can I with fairness go back with 
 thee ? 
 
 APOL. Thou hast done in this, according to the proverb, 
 
 changed a bad for a worse; but it is ordinary 
 
 undervalues for those who have professed themselves his 
 
 servants, after a while to give him the slip, and 
 
 return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well. 
 
 CHR. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance 
 to him; how then can I go back from this, and not be hanged 
 as a traitor? 
 
 , APOL. Thou didst the same to me, and yet 
 
 pretends to be I am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt 
 
 merciful. . ^ J 
 
 yet turn again and go back. 
 
 CHR. What I promised thee was in my nonage; and be- 
 sides, I count that the Prince under whose banner now I 
 stand, is able to absolve me; yea, and to pardon also what I 
 did as to my compliance with thee: and besides (O thou de- 
 stroying Apollyon), to speak truth, I like his service, his 
 wages, his servants, his government, his company, and 
 country better than thine; and therefore leave off to per- 
 suade me further, I am his servant, and I will follow him. 
 
 APOL. Consider again when thou art in cold blood, what 
 thou art like to meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou 
 A olh on leads knowest that for the most part, his servants 
 the grievous ends come to an ill end, because they are transgres- 
 
 of Christians, to J 
 
 dissuade sors against me and my ways. How many of 
 
 persisting in them have been put to shameful deaths ! and be- 
 sides, thou countest his service better than 
 mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where 
 he is, to deliver any that served him out of our hands; but 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 59 
 
 as for me, how many times, as all the world very well knows, 
 have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have 
 faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by 
 them, and so I will deliver thee. 
 
 CHR. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on pur- 
 pose to try their love, whether they will cleave to him to 
 the end: and as for the ill end thou sayest they come to, 
 that is most glorious in their account: For for present deliv- 
 erance, they do not much expect it; for they stay for their 
 glory, and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes 
 in his, and the glory of the angels. 
 
 APOL. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy ser- 
 vice to him, and how dost thou think to receive wages of 
 him? 
 
 CHR. Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to 
 him ? 
 
 APOL. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou 
 wast almost choked in the Gulf of Despond; thou didst at- 
 tempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, 
 Christian^ ea whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy 
 SStL. 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 vainglory in 
 all that thou sayest or doest. 
 
 CHR. All this is true, and much more, which thou hast 
 left out; but the Prince whom I serve and honor is merciful, 
 and ready to forgive; but besides, these infirmities possessed 
 me in thy country, for there I sucked them in, and I have 
 groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained 
 pardon of my Prince. 
 
 APOL. Then Apollyon broke out into a 
 
 Apollyon in a . 
 
 ragefa.ll* upon grievous rage, saying, I am an enemy to this 
 Prince; I hate his person, his laws, and people; 
 I am corne out on purpose to withstand thee. 
 
60 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Apollyon, beware what you dc\ for I am in the 
 King's highway, the way of holiness, therefore take heed to 
 yourself. 
 
 APOL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole 
 breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear hi this mat- 
 ter, prepare thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal den 
 thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul. 
 
 And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast, but 
 Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, 
 and so prevented the danger of that. 
 
 Then did Christian draw, tor he saw 'twas time to bestir 
 him; and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as 
 Christian thick as hail; by the which, notwithstanding 
 
 wounded in kis a ll th a t Christian could do to avoid it, Apollvon 
 
 understanding, 
 
 faith, and wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot. 
 
 Conversation, rnl . i /TI i t t i 
 
 I his made Christian give a little back; Apol- 
 lyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian again 
 took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This 
 sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian 
 was almost quite spent. For you must know that Christian, 
 by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. 
 Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather 
 up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a 
 dreadful fall; and with that Christian's sword 
 
 Apollyon casteth 
 
 down to the flew out of his hand. Then said Apollvon, I 
 
 ground Christian. , . , . , , " . . 
 
 am sure 01 thee now ! and w T ith that, he had 
 almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to 
 despair of life. But as God would have it, while Apollyon 
 was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end 
 of this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand 
 Micah vii. 8. ^ or ms sword, and caught it, saying, "Rejoice 
 
 not against me, O mine enemy ! when I fall, I 
 victory over shall arise"; and with that gave him a deadly 
 
 thrust, which made him give back, as one that 
 had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 61 
 
 made at him again, saying, "Nay, in all these things we are 
 more than conquerors." And with that Apol- 
 
 Kom. viu. 37. 
 
 Ivon spread forth his dragon's wings, and sped 
 
 James i. 7. ' . . 
 
 him away, that Christian saw him no more. 
 In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen 
 and heard as I did, what yelling, and hideous roaring Apol- 
 lyon made all the time of the fight, he spake 
 
 A brief relation J \ 
 
 of the combat by like a dragon; and on the other side, what sighs 
 and groans burst from Christian's heart. I 
 never saw him all the while give him so much as one pleas- 
 ant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with 
 his two-edged sword; then indeed he did smile, and look 
 upward; but 'twas the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw. 
 
 So when the battle was over, Christian said, 
 
 Christian gives . 
 
 God thanks for I will here give thanks to him that hath deliv- 
 ered me out of the mouth of the lion; to him 
 that did help me against Apollyon: and so he did, saying 
 
 Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend, 
 Design' d my ruin; therefore to this end 
 He sent him harness'd out, and he with rage 
 That hellish was, did fiercely me engage: 
 But blessed Michael helped me, and I, 
 By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly; 
 Therefore to him let me give lasting praise, 
 And thank and bless his holy name always. 
 
 Then there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves 
 of the tree of life, the which Christian took, and applied to 
 the wounds that he had received in the battle, 
 and was healed immediately. He also sat 
 d wn in that place to eat bread, and to drink 
 of the bottle that was given him a little before; 
 so being refreshed, he addressed himself to his journey, with 
 
 
 1 A more unequal match can hardly be: 
 Christian must fight an angel; but you see 
 The valiant man by handling sword and shield, 
 Doth make him, tho' a dragon, quit the field. 
 
62 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 his sword drawn in his hand, for he said, I know not but 
 some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no 
 other affront from Apollyon, quite through this valley. 
 
 Now at the end of this valley was another, called the Val- 
 ley of the Shadow of Death, and Christian must needs go 
 . through it, because the way to the Celestial 
 
 The I alley of . 
 
 the Shadow of City lay through the midst of it. Now this 
 
 Death. ,. ,. , .. 
 
 valley is a very solitary place. The prophet 
 
 Jeremiah thus describes it: "A wilderness, a land of deserts 
 
 and of pits, a land of drought, and of the 
 
 Jer. n. 6. 
 
 shadow of death; a land that no man" (but a 
 Christian) "passeth through, and where no man dwelt." 
 
 Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight 
 with Apollyon, as by the sequel you shall see. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that when Christian 
 
 fh?sef g f was got to the borders of the Shadow of Death, 
 
 b Numb xiii there met him two men, children of them that 
 
 brought up an evil report of the good land, 
 
 making haste to go back; to whom Christian spake as follows: 
 
 CHR. Whither are you going ? 
 
 MEN. They said, Back, back; and we would have you to 
 do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. 
 
 CHR. Why, what's the matter? said Christian. 
 
 MEN. Matter! said they; we were going that way as 
 you are going, and went as far as we durst; and indeed we 
 were almost past coming back, for had we gone a little fur- 
 ther, we had not been here to bring the news to thee. 
 
 CHR. But what have you met with ? said Christian. 
 
 MEN. Why, we were almost in the Valley 
 Si^io. of the Shadow of Death, but that by good 
 hap we looked before us, and saw the dan- 
 ger before we came to it. 
 
 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 63 
 
 of the pit: we heard also in that valley a continual howling 
 and yelling, as of a people under unutterable misery, who 
 there sat bound in affliction and irons; and over that valley 
 
 hung the discouf aging clouds of confusion, 
 Ckap l x?i& death also doth ahvays spread his wings over 
 
 it: in a word, it is every whit dreadful, being 
 utterly without order. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, I perceive not 
 
 yet, by what you have said, but that this is 
 my way to the desired haven. 
 
 MEN. Be it thy way, we will not choose it for ours. So 
 
 they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his 
 
 sword drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, 
 
 there was on the right hand a very deep ditch; that ditch* is 
 
 it into which the blind have led the blind in 
 
 Ps. Ixix. 14. 
 
 all ages, and have both there miserably per- 
 ished. 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 pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and there- 
 fore good Christian was the more put to it; for when he 
 sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was 
 ready to tip over into the mire on the other; also when he 
 sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he 
 would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, 
 and I heard him here sigh bitterly; for, besides the dangers 
 mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that oft- 
 times when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not 
 where, or upon what he should set it next. 1 
 
 
 1 Poor man! where art thou now? thy day is night. 
 Good man, be not cast down, thou yet art right: 
 Thy way to heaven lies by the gates of hell; 
 Cheer up, hold out, with thee it shall go well. 
 
C4 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 About the midst of this valley, I perceived the mouth of 
 hell to be, and it stood also hard by the wayside. Now 
 thought Christian, what shall I do? And ever and anon 
 the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, 
 with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for 
 Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before), that he was 
 forced to put up his sword, and betake himself to another 
 weapon, called All-prayer; so he cried in my hearing, "O 
 Lord, I beseech thee, deliver mv soul." Thus 
 
 Eph. vi. 18. 
 
 he went on a great while, yet still the flames 
 
 would be reaching towards him: also he heard 
 
 doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes 
 
 he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like 
 
 mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these 
 
 dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles together: 
 
 and coming to a place where he thought he heard a company 
 
 of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped, and began 
 
 to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a 
 
 thought to go back. Then again he thought 
 
 Christian put to 
 
 a stand, but for a he might be half -way through the valley; he 
 remembered also how he had already van- 
 quished many a danger, and that the danger of going back 
 might be much more than for to go forward; so he resolved 
 to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer; 
 but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out 
 with a most vehement voice, "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 
 
 Christian made . , . . , , T , ., 
 
 believe that know his own voice. And thus I perceived it : 
 
 blasphemies, Just when he was come over against the mouth 
 s^tanS of tne burning pit, one of the wicked ones got 
 
 S mto e hfs d mind behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and 
 whisperingly suggested many grievous blas- 
 phemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from 
 his own mind. This put Christian more to it than anything 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 65 
 
 that he met with before, even to think that he should now 
 blaspheme him that he loved so much before; yet if he could 
 have helped it, he would not have done it ; but he had not the 
 discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence 
 those blasphemies came. 
 
 When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condi- 
 tion some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice 
 ... of a man, as going before him, saying, "Though 
 
 I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death, I will fear none ill, for thou art with me." 
 
 Then was he glad, and that for these reasons: 
 
 First, Because he gathered from thence that some who 
 feared God were in this valley as well as himself. 
 
 Secondly, for that he perceived God was with them, 
 though in that dark and dismal state; and 
 
 Job ix. 10. 
 
 why not, thought he, with me, though by 
 reason of the impediment that attends this place, I cannot 
 perceive it? 
 
 Thirdly, For that he hoped (could he overtake them) to 
 have company by and by. So he went on, and called to 
 
 him that w^s before, but he knew not what to 
 
 L hristian glad at 
 
 break of dan . answer, for tnat he also thought himself to be 
 alone. And by and by the day broke; then 
 said Christian, "He hath turned the shadow of death into 
 the morning." 
 
 Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of de- 
 sire to return, but to see, by the light of the day, what haz- 
 ards he had gone through in the dark. So he saw more per- 
 fectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that 
 was on the other; also how narrow the way was which led 
 betwixt them both: also now he saw the hobgoblins, and 
 satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all afar off; for after break 
 of day they came not nigh; yet they were discovered to him, 
 according to that which is written, "He dis- 
 
 Job xti. 22. 
 
 coveret.h deep things out or darkness, and 
 bringeth out to light the shadow of death." 
 
60 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 
 The tecond part i ,. i 
 
 of th\t valley them more clearly now, because the light of 
 the day made them conspicuous to him. And 
 about this time the sun was rising, and this was another 
 mercy to Christian; for you must note, that though the first 
 part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, 
 yet this second part which he was yet to go, was, if possible, 
 far more dangerous: for from the place where he now stood, 
 even to the end of the valley, the way was all along set so 
 full of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so full of pits, 
 pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down there, that had it 
 now been dark, as it was when he came the first part of the 
 way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been 
 cast away; but as I said, just now the sun was 
 
 Job xxix. 3. 
 
 rising. Then said he, "His candle shineth on 
 my head, and by his light I go through darkness." 
 
 In this light therefore, he came to the end of the valley. 
 Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of 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, etc., lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this 
 place Christian went without much danger, whereat I some- 
 what wondered ; but I have learnt since, that Pagan has been 
 dead many a day; and as for the other, though he be yet 
 alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd 
 brushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so 
 crazy, and stiff in his joints, that he can now do little more 
 than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go 
 by, and biting his nails, because he cannot come at them. 
 
 So I saw that Christian went on his way, yet at the sight 
 of the old man that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 67 
 
 not tell what to think, specially because he spake to him, 
 though he could not go after him, saying, You will never 
 mend, till more of you be burned: but he held his peace, and 
 set a good face on't; and so went by and catched no hurt. 
 Then sang Christian: 
 
 O world of wonders ! (I can say no less) 
 
 That I should be preserved in that distress 
 
 That I have met with here ! O blessed be 
 
 That hand that from it hath deliver' d me ! 
 
 Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin 
 
 Did compass me, while I this vale was in: 
 
 Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets did lie 
 
 My path about, that worthless silly I 
 
 Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down: 
 
 But since I live, let JESUS wear the crown. 
 
 Now as Christian went on his way, he came to a little 
 ascent, which was cast up on purpose that pilgrims might 
 see before them. Up there therefore Christian went, and 
 looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his jour- 
 ney. Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho, so-ho; stay, and I 
 will be your companion. At that Faithful looked behind 
 him; to whom Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come 
 up to you: but Faithful answered, No, I am upon my life, 
 and the avenger of blood is behind me. At this Christian 
 was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he 
 quicklv got up with Faithful, and did also 
 
 Christian ' . 
 
 overtakes overrun him, so the last was first. Then did 
 
 Christian vaingloriously smile, because he had 
 gotten the start of his brother; but not taking good heed to 
 his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise 
 again, until Faithful came up to help him. 
 
 Then I saw in. my dream, they went very 
 
 Christian s fall i i .1 i i j * 
 
 makes Faithful lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse 
 
 ingly together. ^ a ^ things that had happened to them in their 
 
 pilgrimage; and thus Christian began: 
 CHR. My honored and well-beloved brother Faithful, I 
 
08 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 ain glad that I have overtaken you; and that God has so 
 tempered our spirits, that we can walk as companions in 
 this so pleasant a path. 
 
 FAITH. I had thought, dear friend, to have had your 
 company quite from our town, but you clid 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 
 
 the country from was great talk presently after you were gone 
 
 ame. ethey out < that our cit ^ would in short time with 
 
 fire from heaven be burned down to the ground . 
 
 CHR. What ! did your neighbors talk so ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, 'twas for a while in 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 
 speak of you, and of your desperate journey (for so they 
 called this your pilgrimage), but I did believe, and do still, 
 that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from 
 above; and therefore I have made mine escape. 
 
 CHR. Did you hear no talk of Neighbor Pliable ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till 
 he came at the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he 
 fell in; but he would not be known to have so done: but I 
 am sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt. 
 
 CHR. And what said the neighbors to him? 
 
 FAITH. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly 
 in derision, and that among all sorts of people: 
 
 How Pliable was 
 
 accounted of some do mock and despise him, and scarce will 
 
 when he got home. . , . , TT . . 
 
 any set him on work. He is now seven times 
 worse than if he had never gone out of the city. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 69 
 
 CHR. But why should they be so set against him, since 
 they also despise the way that he forsook? 
 
 FAITH. Oh, they say, Hang him, he is a turncoat, he was 
 not true to his profession. I think God has 
 
 Jer. xxix. 18, 19. .... 
 
 stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and 
 make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way. 
 CHR. Had you no talk with him before you came out? 
 FAITH. I met him once in the streets, but he leered away 
 on the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done; so 
 I spake not to him. 
 
 CHR. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that 
 man; but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the 
 city, for it is happened to him according to the 
 ' tru e proverb, "The dog is turned to his vomit 
 again; and the sow that was washed to her 
 wallowing in the mire." 
 
 FAITH. They are my fears of him too: But who can hin- 
 der that which will be ? 
 
 CHR. Well, Neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us 
 leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern 
 ourselves. Tell me now, what you have met with in the 
 way as you came ; for I know you have met with some things, 
 or else it may be writ for a wonder. 
 
 Faithful FAITH. I escaped the slough that I per- 
 
 assaulted by ceived you fell into, and got up to the gate 
 
 without that danger; only I met with one whose 
 
 name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief. 
 
 CHR. 'Twas well you escaped her net; Joseph was hard 
 
 put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did; 
 
 Gen. xxxix. 11-13. ^ J , . , . . 
 
 but it had like to have cost him his life. But 
 what did she do to you ? 
 
 FAITH. You cannot think (but that you know some- 
 thing) what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at me 
 hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of 
 content. 
 
70 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHE. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a 
 good conscience. 
 
 FAITH. You know what I mean, all carnal and fleshly 
 content. 
 
 CHR. Thank God you have escaped her: 
 The abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her 
 ditch. 
 
 FAITH. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape 
 her or no. 
 
 CHR. Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires ? 
 FAITH. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an 
 old writing that I had seen, which saith, "Her 
 5oTaJ*/'i steps take hold of hell." So I shut mine eyes, 
 
 because I would not be bewitched with her 
 looks: then she railed on me, and I went my way. 
 
 CHR. Did you meet with no other assault as you came? 
 
 FAITH. When I came to the foot of the hill called Diffi- 
 
 culty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I 
 
 was, and whither bound. I told him that I 
 
 XJtattrK*. 1 " was a Pilgm, going to the Celestial City. 
 
 Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an 
 
 honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the 
 
 wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his name, 
 
 and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, 
 
 and I dwell in the town of Deceit. I asked 
 
 Eph. iv. 22. . 
 
 him then what was his work, and what the 
 wages that he would give. He told me that his work was 
 many delights: and his wages, that I should be his heir at 
 last. I further asked him what house he kept, and what 
 other servants he had. So he told me that his house was 
 maintained with all the dainties in the world; and that his 
 servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked 
 w many children he had. He said that he 
 
 6 
 
 had but three daughters: "The Lust of the 
 
 Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life," and that 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 71 
 
 I should marry them if I would. Then I asked how long time 
 he would have me live with him. And he told me, As long 
 as he lived himself. 
 
 CHR. Well, and what conclusion carne the old man and 
 you to, at last? 
 
 FAITH. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable 
 to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but, 
 looking in his forehead as I talked with him, I saw there 
 written, "Put off the old man with his deeds." 
 
 CHR. And how then? 
 
 FAITH. Then it came burning hot into my mind, what- 
 ever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me 
 home to his house, he would sell me for a slave. So I bid 
 him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of 
 his house. Then he reviled me, and told me that he would 
 send such a one after me, that should make my way bitter 
 to my soul. So I turned to go away from him; but just as 
 I turned away to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, 
 and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he 
 had pulled part of me after himself. This 
 made me cry, "O wretched man !" So I went 
 on my way up the hill. 
 
 Now when I had got about half-way up, I looked behind 
 me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he 
 overtook me just about the place where the settle stands. 
 
 CHR. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest 
 me; but. being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll 
 out of my bosom. 
 
 FAITH. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the 
 man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow; for down 
 he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a 
 little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served 
 me so. He said, Because of my secret inclining to Adam 
 the First; and .with that he struck me another deadly blow 
 on the breast, and beat me down backward, so I lay at his 
 
72 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 -v 
 
 foot as dead as before. So when I came to myself again, I 
 cried him mercy; but he said, I know not how to show mercy: 
 and with that he knocked me down again. He had doubt- 
 less made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him 
 forbear. 
 
 CHR. Who was that, that bid him forbear? 
 
 FAITH. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, 
 I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side; then I 
 concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. 
 
 CHR. That man that overtook you was 
 Jfo S * e s mper f Moses : he spareth none, neither knoweth he 
 how to show mercy to those that transgress 
 his law. 
 
 FAITH. I know it very well; it was not the first time that 
 he has met with me. 'Twas he that came to me when I 
 dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my 
 house over my head if I stayed there. 
 
 CHR. But did you not see the house that stood there on 
 the top of that hill, on the side of which Moses met you ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it; but 
 for the lions, I think they were asleep, for it was about noon; 
 and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed 
 by the porter, and came down the hill. 
 
 CHR. He told me indeed that he saw- you go by, but I 
 wish you had called at the house; for they would have 
 showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have 
 forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, 
 did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would 
 
 willingly have persuaded me to go back again with him ; his 
 
 reason was, for that the valley was altogether 
 
 assaulted by without honor. He told me moreover, That 
 
 there 5 to go, was the way to disobey all my 
 
 friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, 
 
 with others, who he knew, as he said, would be very much 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 73 
 
 offended if I made such a fool of myself, as to wade through 
 this valley. 
 
 CHR. Well, and how did you answer him? 
 
 FAITH. I told him, That although all these that he named 
 might claim kindred of me, and that rightly (for indeed they 
 were my relations according to the flesh), yet 
 answer to since I became a pilgrim they have disowned 
 
 me, as I also have rejected them; and therefore 
 they were to me now no more than if they had never been 
 of my lineage. I told him, moreover, That as to this val- 
 ley, he had quite misrepresented the thing; for "before honor 
 is humility," and "a haughty spirit before a fall." There- 
 fore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honor 
 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 met with in my pilgrimage, he I think bears 
 
 with S Shame Ued the wron g name - The other would be said 
 
 nay, after a little argumentation (and some- 
 what else), but this bold-faced Shame would never have done. 
 CHR. Why, what did he say to you ? 
 
 FAITH. What ! why, he objected against religion itself; he 
 said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind 
 religion; he said that a tender conscience was an unmanly 
 thing; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, 
 so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the 
 brave spirits of the times accustom themselves unto, would 
 
 make him the ridicule of the times. He ob- 
 Ckap. in. is. jected also, That but few of the mighty, rich, 
 
 or wise were ever of my opinion; nor any of 
 them, before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a 
 voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all, for nobody else 
 knows what. He moreover objected the base and low estate 
 and condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims of the 
 
74 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 times in which they lived; also their ignorance and want of 
 
 understanding in all natural science. Yea, he 
 
 John j& 48 8 ' did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great 
 
 many more things than here I relate; as, that 
 
 it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, 
 
 and a shame to come sighing and groaning home; that it 
 
 was a shame to ask my neighbor forgiveness for petty 
 
 faults, or to make restitution where I had taken from any. 
 
 He said also that religion made a man grow strange to the 
 
 great, because of a few vices (which he called by finer names), 
 
 and made him own and respect the base, because of the same 
 
 religious fraternity. And is not this, said he, a shame? 
 
 CHR. And what did you say to him ? 
 
 FAITH. Say ! I could not tell what to say at 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 
 
 Luke xvi. 15. . . 
 
 me quite on. J3ut at last I began to consider. 
 That "that which is highly esteemed among men, is had in 
 abomination with God." And I thought again, This Shame 
 tells me what men are, but it tells me nothing what God, or 
 the Word of God is. And I thought, moreover, That at the 
 day of doom, we shall not be doomed to death or life 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? Should I now be 
 
 Mark vm. 38. 
 
 ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I 
 expect the blessing? But indeed this Shame was a bold vil- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 75 
 
 lain; I could scarce shake him out of my company; yea, he 
 would be haunting of me, and continually whispering me in 
 the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities that attend 
 religion: but at last I told him, 'Twas but in vain to attempt 
 further in this business; for those things that he disdained, 
 in those did I see most glory: and so at last I got past this 
 importunate one. And when I had shaken him off, then I 
 began to sing: 
 
 The trials that those men do meet withal 
 
 That are obedient to the heavenly call, 
 
 Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, 
 
 And come, and come, and come again afresh; 
 
 That now, or some time else, we by them may 
 
 Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
 
 Oh, let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims then, 
 
 Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men. 
 
 CHR. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand 
 this villain so bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he 
 has the wrong name; for he is so bold as to follow us in the 
 streets, and to attempt to put us to shame before all men; 
 that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good. But if 
 he was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do 
 as he does; but let us still resist him; for, notwithstanding 
 all his bravadoes, he promoteth the fool, and 
 
 Prov. in. 35. * 
 
 none else. "The wise shall inherit glory, said 
 Solomon, "but shame shall be the promotion of fools." 
 
 FAITH. I think we must cry to him for help against 
 Shame, that would have us be valiant for truth upon the 
 earth. 
 
 CHR. You say true. But did you meet nobody else in 
 that valley? 
 
 FAITH. No, not I; for I had sunshine all the rest of the 
 way through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death. 
 
 CHR. 'Twas well for you ; I am sure it fared far otherwise 
 
 
76 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 with me. I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered 
 into that valley, a dreadful combat with that foul fiend 
 Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, 
 especially when he got me down, and crushed me under him, 
 as if he would have crushed me to pieces. For as he threw 
 me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he told me he was 
 sure of me: but I cried to God, and he heard me, and deliv- 
 ered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost 
 half the way through it. I thought I should have been 
 killed there, over and over; but at last day brake, and the 
 sun rose, and I went through that which was behind with 
 far more ease and quiet. 
 
 Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, 
 
 Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose 
 
 name is Talkative, walking at a distance be- 
 
 deacrOed s ^ e them (for in this place, there was room 
 
 enough for them all to walk). He was a tall 
 
 man, and something more comely at a distance than at hand. 
 
 To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner: 
 
 FAITH. Friend, whither away? Are you going to the 
 heavenly country? 
 
 TALK. I am going to the same place. 
 
 FAITH. That is well; then I hope we may have your good 
 company. 
 
 TALK. With a very good will, will I be your companion. 
 FAITH. Come on then, and let us go to- 
 
 Faitkful and , 
 
 Talkative enter gether, and let us spend our time in discoursing 
 
 discourse. f , . , ~ , , 
 
 of things that are profitable. 
 
 TALK. To talk of things that are good, to me is very 
 
 acceptable, with you, or with any other; and I am glad that 
 
 I have met with those that incline to so good 
 
 Talkative s 
 
 dislike of bad a work. For to speak the truth, there are but 
 
 discourse. -. , , . / , , 
 
 few that care thus to spend their time (as they 
 are hi their travels), but choose much rather to be speaking 
 of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble to me. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 77 
 
 FAITH. That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what 
 things so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men 
 on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven ? 
 
 TALK. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are 
 full of conviction; and I will add, What thing is so pleas- 
 ant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of 
 God? 
 
 What things so pleasant? (that is, if a man hath any de- 
 light in things that are wonderful) for instance: If a man 
 doth delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things; 
 or if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, 
 where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so 
 sweetly penned, as in the holy Scripture? 
 
 FAITH. That's true; but to be profited by such things in 
 our talk should be that which we design. 
 
 TALK. That it is that I said; for to talk of such things 
 is most profitable; for, by so doing, a man may get knowl- 
 edge of many things; as of the vanity of earthly 
 du^. 9fiM thin g s > and the benefit of things above (thus 
 in general) : but more particularly, by this a 
 man may learn the necessity of the new birth, the insuffi- 
 ciency of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness, etc. 
 Besides, by this a man may learn what it is to repent, to be- 
 lieve, to pray, to suffer, or the like; by this, also, a man may 
 learn what are the great promises and consolations of the 
 gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a man may 
 learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also 
 to instruct the ignorant. 
 
 FAITH. All this is true; and glad am I to hear these things 
 from you. 
 
 TALK. Alas ! the want of this is the cause that so few 
 understand the need of faith, and the necessity of a work 
 of grace in their souls, in order to eternal life; but ignorantly 
 live in the works of the law, by which a man can by no means 
 obtain the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 FAITH. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these 
 
78 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 is the gift of God; no man attaineth to them by human in- 
 dustry, or only by the talk of them. 
 
 TALK. All this I know very well, for a man can receive 
 
 nothing except it be given him from heaven; 
 talkative a ^ * s ^ g race n t f works: I could give you a 
 
 hundred Scriptures for the confirmation of this. 
 FAITH. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing 
 that we shall at this time found our discourse upon ? 
 
 TALK. What you will: I will talk of things heavenly, or 
 things earthly; things moral, or things evangelical; things 
 
 sacred, or things profane; things past, or things 
 talkative ^ come j things foreign, or things at home; 
 
 things more essential, or things circumstantial; 
 provided that all be done to our profit. 
 
 FAITH. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping 
 
 to Christian (for he walked all this while by 
 ^f^ST W himself), he said to him (but softly), What a 
 
 brave companion have we got ! Surely this 
 man will make a very excellent pilgrim. 
 
 Christian makes CHR. At this Christian modestly smiled, and 
 a discovery of said, This man with whom you are so taken 
 
 Talkative, telling 
 
 Faithful who will beguile with this tongue of his twenty of 
 them that know him not. 
 
 FAITH. Do you know him, then ? 
 
 CHR. Know him ! Yes, better than he knows himself. 
 
 FAITH. Pray what is he? 
 
 CHR. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our town; I 
 wonder that you should be a stranger to him, only I consider 
 that our town is large. 
 
 FAITH. Whose son is he? And whereabout doth he 
 dwell? 
 
 CHR. He is the son of one Say-well. He dwelt in Prating 
 Row, and he is known of all that are acquainted with him 
 by the name of Talkative in Prating Row; and notwithstand- 
 ing his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 79 
 
 FAITH. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. 
 
 CHR. That is, to them that have not thorough acquain- 
 tance with him, for he is best abroad; near home he is ugly 
 enough. Your saying, That he is a pretty man, brings to 
 my mind what I have observed in the work of the painter, 
 whose pictures show best at a distance; but very near, more 
 unpleasing. 
 
 FAITH. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because 
 you smiled. 
 
 CHR. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in 
 this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely; I will give 
 you a further discovery of him : This man is for any company, 
 and for any talk; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk 
 when he is on the ale-bench: and the more drink he hath in 
 his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth: 
 Religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation; 
 all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to make a 
 noise therewith. 
 
 FAITH. Say you so ! Then I am in this man greatly de- 
 ceived. 
 
 CHR. Deceived ! you may be sure of it. Remember the 
 proverb, "They say, and do not"; but "the kingdom of God 
 Matt xxiii 3 * s no ^ * n woro ^ but m power." He talketh of 
 i Cor. iv. 20. prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new 
 Talkative talks, birth; but he knows but only to talk of them. 
 I have been in his family, and have observed 
 His house is him both at home and abroad ; and I know 
 
 empty of religion. i , T /?U'-j.U j.u XT' l. 
 
 what I say of him is the truth. His house is 
 as empty of religion as the white of an egg is of savor. 
 
 There is there, neither prayer nor sign of repent- 
 He is a stain to . ^11 i i i 
 
 religion. ance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind serves 
 
 God far better than he. He is the very stain, 
 
 goll ofhim tt<rf re P roacn and shame of religion to all that know 
 him ; it can hardly have a good word in all that 
 
 end of the town where he dwells, through him. Thus say 
 
80 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 the common people that know him: A saint abroad, and a 
 devil at home: His poor family finds it so; he is such a churl, 
 such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his servants, that 
 they neither know how to do for or speak to 
 M$*hL him - Men tha * h ave any dealings with him, 
 say it is better to deal with a Turk than with 
 him, for fairer dealing they shall have at their hands. 
 This Talkative, if it be possible, will go beyond them, 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 timorousness (for so he calls the first appearance of 
 a tender conscience) he calls them fools and blockheads; and 
 by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their 
 commendations before others. For my part I am of opinion, 
 that he has by his wicked life caused many to stumble and 
 fall; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more. 
 
 FAITH. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you, 
 not only because you say you know him, but also because 
 like a Christian you make your reports of men. For I can- 
 not think that you speak these things of ill will, but because 
 it is even so as you say. 
 
 CHR. Had I known him no more than you, I might 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 mouths upon good men's 
 names and professions:) But all these things, yea, and a 
 great many more as bad, of my own knowledge I can prove 
 him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him; 
 they can neither call him brother nor friend; the very 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 shall better observe this distinction. 
 
 CHR. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as 
 are the soul and the body; for, as the body without the soul 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 81 
 
 is but a dead carcass, so saying, if it be alone, is but a dead 
 , carcass also. The soul of religion is the practick 
 
 Ine carcass oj m A 
 
 religion. part: "Pure religion and undefiled, before God 
 
 James i 27 an <i the Father, is this, To visit the father- 
 
 see ver. zz 2o. 
 
 less and widows in their affliction, and to 
 keep himself unspotted from the world." This Talkative is 
 not aware of; he thinks that hearing and saying w r ill make a 
 good Christian, and thus he deceiveth his own soul. Hear- 
 ing is but as the sowing of the seed; talking is not sufficient 
 to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life; and let us 
 assure ourselves, that at the day of doom, men shall be 
 
 judged according to their fruits. It will not be 
 and%ap: X xxi: said then, Did you believe? but, Were you 
 
 doers, or talkers only? and accordingly shall 
 they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our 
 harvest, and you know men at harvest regard nothing but 
 fruit. Not that anything can be accepted that is not of 
 faith: But I speak this to show you how insignificant the 
 profession of Talkative will be at that day. 
 
 FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which 
 he describeth the beast that is clean. He is such an one that 
 Lev xi parteth the hoof, and cheweth the cud; not 
 
 Deut. xiv. that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the 
 
 %S%L of the cud onl y- The hare cheweth the cud, but yet 
 badness of j s unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. 
 
 Talkative. t ^ 
 
 And this truly resembleth Talkative: he chew- 
 eth the cud, he seeketh knowledge, he cheweth upon the 
 word; but he divideth not the hoof, he parteth not with the 
 way of sinners; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot of a 
 dog, or bear, and therefore he is unclean. 
 
 CHR. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel 
 
 sense of those texts, and I will add another 
 CAap.'S"'?." 3 ' thing. Paul calleth some men, yea and those 
 
 great talkers too, sounding brass, and tinkling 
 cymbals; that is, as he expounds them in another place, 
 
82 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 "things without life, giving sound." Things without life; that 
 Talkative like to * s > without tne true faith and grace of the gos- 
 things that sound p e l; an( J consequently, things that shall never 
 
 without life. 11- i j i 
 
 be placed in the kingdom 01 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 sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him ? 
 
 CHR. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall 
 find that he will soon be sick of your company too, except 
 God shall touch his heart and turn it. 
 
 FAITH. What would you have me to do ? 
 
 CHR. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious dis- 
 course about the power of religion. And ask him plainly 
 (when he has approved of it, for that he will), whether this 
 thing be set up in his heart, house, or conversation. 
 
 FAITH. Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said 
 to Talkative : Come, what cheer ? how is it now ? 
 
 TALK. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had 
 a great deal of talk by this time. 
 
 FAITH. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since 
 you left it with me to state the question, let it be this: How 
 doth the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in 
 the heart of man? 
 
 TALK. I perceive then that our talk must be about the 
 
 power of things; Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall 
 
 be willing to answer you. And take my answer 
 
 Talkative' s false . , . , ~^. , ". -, 
 
 discovery of a m brief thus: Jbirst, where the grace ol God is 
 in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry 
 against sin. Secondly 
 
 FAITH. Nay hold, let us consider of one at once: I think 
 you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining the soul to 
 abhor its sin. 
 
 TALK. Why, what difference is there between crying out 
 against and abhorring of sin ? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 83 
 
 FAITH. Oh ! a great deal; a man may cry out against sin, 
 
 of policy; but he cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a godly 
 
 antipathy against it: I have heard many cry 
 
 lo cry out . . . 
 
 against sin, no out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can 
 abide it well enough in the heart, and house, 
 and conversation. Joseph's mistress cried out with a loud 
 voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would willingly, 
 notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. 
 Some cry out against sin, even as the mother cries out against 
 her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, 
 and then falls to hugging and kissing it. 
 
 TALK. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 
 
 FAITH. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. 
 But what is the second thing whereby you would prove a 
 discovery of a work of grace in the heart? 
 
 TALK. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries. 
 
 FAITH. This sign should have been first; but, first or last, 
 it is also false; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be ob- 
 tained in the mysteries of the gospel, and yet 
 
 Great knowledge J to . 
 
 no sign of grace, no work of grace m the soul. Yea, if a man 
 have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, 
 and so consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, 
 Do you know all these things? and the disciples had an- 
 swered, Yes; he addeth, Blessed are ye if ye do them. He 
 doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the 
 doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is riot attended 
 with doing: He that knoweth his Master's will, and doth 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 with- 
 out knowledge; 'for without that the heart is 
 naught. There is therefore knowledge, and 
 knowledge. Knowledge that resteth in the 
 speculation of things, and knowledge that is accompanied 
 
 - 
 
84 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 with the grace of faith and love, which puts a man upon doing 
 even the will of God from the heart: the first 
 of these will serve the talker; but without the 
 . otner tne true Christian is not content. " Give 
 me understanding, and I shall keep thy law; 
 yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart." 
 
 TALK. You lie at the catch again; this is not for edifica- 
 tion. 
 
 FAITH. Well, if you please propound another sign how 
 this work of grace disco vereth itself where it is. 
 TALK. Not I; for I see we shall not agree. 
 FAITH. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to 
 do it ? 
 
 TALK. You may use your liberty. 
 
 FAITH. A work of grace in the soul discov- 
 eretn 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 un- 
 belief (for the sake of which he is sure to be 
 Rom. viL 24. damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand 
 Mark*xvi*is. by faith in Jesus Christ). This sight and sense 
 Jer X xxxi\ f things worketh in him sorrow and shame for 
 Gal. ii. 16. sm; ne fi n deth moreover revealed in him the 
 
 Acts iv. 12. 
 
 Matt. v. 6. Saviour of the world, and the absolute neces- 
 
 Rev, xxi. 6. 
 
 sity of closing with him for life, at the which 
 he findeth hunger ings and thirs tings after him, to which 
 hungerings, etc., the promise is made. Now according to 
 the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his 
 joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to 
 know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But 
 though I say it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but 
 seldom that he is able to conclude that this is a work of 
 grace, because his corruptions now, and his abused reason, 
 make his mind to misjudge in this matter; therefore in him 
 that hath this work, there is required a very sound judgment, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 85 
 
 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. 
 
 2. By a life answerable to that confession; to wit, a life of 
 
 holiness; heart-holiness, family-holiness (if he 
 
 HOW.. X- 10. 
 
 Phil. i. 27. hath a family), and by conversation-holiness in 
 
 John xiv. is. the world; which in the general teacheth him, 
 Job. xlii. 5, 6. inwardly to abhor his sin, and himself for that 
 
 Ezek. xxix. 43. , r g ! j , 
 
 in secret, to suppress it in his family, and to 
 promote holiness in the world; not by talk only, as an hypo- 
 crite or talkative person may do: but by a practical subjec- 
 tion in faith and love to the power of the word: And now Sir, 
 as to this brief description of the work of grace, and also the 
 discovery of it, if you have aught to object, object; if not, 
 then give me leave to propound to you a second question. 
 
 TALK. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear: 
 let me therefore have your second question. 
 
 FAITH. It is this: Do you experience the first part of this 
 description of it ? and doth your life and conversation testify 
 the same ? or standeth your religion in word or 
 in tongue, and not in deed and truth? Pray, 
 if you incline to answer me in this, say no more 
 than you know the God above will say Amen to; and also, 
 nothing but what your conscience can justify you in: For, 
 "not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom 
 the Lord commendeth." Besides, to say I am thus, and 
 thus, when my conversation, and all my neighbors tell me 
 I lie, is great wickedness. 
 
 TALK. Then Talkative at first began to blush, but recov- 
 ering himself, thus he replied: You come now to experience, 
 to conscience, and God: and to appeal to him 
 for justification of what is spoken : This kind of 
 question * 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 
 
86 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 to be a catechiser; and, though you should so do, yet I may 
 refuse to make you my judge: But I pray will you tell me, 
 why you ask me such questions? 
 
 FAITH. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because 
 
 I knew not that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to 
 
 tell you all the truth, I have heard of you, that 
 
 The reasons why . " 
 
 Faithful put to you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and 
 
 him that question. , . , . 
 
 that your conversation gives this your mouth- 
 profession the lie. They say You are a spot among Chris- 
 tians, and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly 
 
 conversation, that some alreadv have stumbled 
 
 Faithful s plain , . 
 
 dealing with at your wicked ways, and that more are in dan- 
 ger of being destroyed thereby; your religion, 
 and an ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and 
 swearing, and lying, and vain company-keeping, etc., will 
 stand together. The proverb is true of you which is said of 
 a whore, to wit, That she is a shame to all women; so you are 
 a shame to all professors. 
 
 TALK. Since vou are readv to take up re- 
 
 Talkahve flings . * 
 
 away from ports, and to judge so rashly as you do; I can- 
 
 not but conclude you are some peevish or mel- 
 ancholy 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 com- 
 
 riddance P anv than reform his life: but he is gone as I 
 
 said, let him go; the loss is no man's but his 
 
 own, he has saved us the trouble of going from him; for he 
 
 continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have 
 
 been but a blot in our company: besides, the apostle says, 
 
 "From such withdraw thyself." 
 
 FAITH. But I am glad we had this little discourse with 
 him, it may happen that he will think of it again; however, 
 I have dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood, 
 if he perisheth. 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 87 
 
 CHR. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did, 
 there is but little of this faithful dealing with men nowa- 
 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 that all men would deal with 
 such as you have done, then should they either be made more 
 conformable to religion, or the company of saints would be 
 too hot for them. Then did Faithful say: 
 
 How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes ! 
 How bravely doth he speak ! how he presumes 
 To drive down all before him ! but so soon 
 As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon 
 That's past the full, into the wane he goes; 
 And so will all, but he that Heart-work knows. 
 
 Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the 
 way, and so made that way easy, which would otherwise, 
 no doubt, have been tedious to them; for now they went 
 through a wilderness. 
 
 Now when they were got almost quite out of this wilder- 
 ness, Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one 
 Evan elist come after them, and he knew him. Oh ! said 
 
 Faithful to his brother, who comes yonder? 
 Then Christian looked, and said, It is my good 
 friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faith- 
 ful: for 'twas he that set me the way to the gate. Now was 
 Evangelist come up unto them, and thus saluted them: 
 
 EVAN. Peace be with you, dearly beloved, and peace be 
 to your helpers. 
 
 CHR. Welcome, welcome, my good Evan- 
 Ihe'light of^im. gelist, the sight of thy countenance brings to 
 my remembrance thy ancient kindness, and 
 unwearied laboring for my eternal good. 
 
88 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FAITH. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faith- 
 ful; Thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to 
 us, poor pilgrims ! 
 
 EVAN. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, 
 my friends, since the time of our last parting ? what have you 
 met with, and how have you behaved yourselves ? 
 
 Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had 
 happened to them in the way; and how, and with what diffi- 
 culty they had arrived to that place. 
 
 EVAN. Right glad am I, said Evangelist; 
 
 t f o'them. ortation not tnat y u have met with trials ' but that y u 
 
 have been victors; and for that you have (not- 
 withstanding 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 
 
 John iv. 36. . . . 
 
 they that reaped shall rejoice together; that is, 
 
 Gal. vi. 9. <> ' i i i p i i 11 
 
 if you hold out: for in due season ye shall reap 
 if you faint not. The crown is before you, and it is an in- 
 corruptible one; so run, that you may obtain it. Some there 
 . _ be that set out for this crown, and after they 
 have gone far for it, another comes in, and 
 takes it from them; "hold fast therefore that 
 you have, let no man take your crown." You are not yet 
 out of the gunshot 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 in- 
 visible. Let nothing that is on this side the other world get 
 within you; and above all, look well to your own hearts, and 
 to the lusts thereof, for they are deceitful above all things, 
 and desperately wicked; set your faces like a flint; you have 
 all power in heaven and earth on your side. 
 
 CHR. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation, 
 but told him withal, that they would have him speak further 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 89 
 
 to them for their help, the rest of the way; and the rather, 
 for that they well knew that he was a prophet, 
 him for his and could tell them of things that might hap- 
 
 pen unto them; and also how they might re- 
 sist 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 
 
 oi the gospel, that you must through many tribulations enter 
 
 into the kingdom of heaven. And again, that 
 
 tie preaictetn t . . 
 
 what troubles ' m every city bonds and afflictions abide in you; 
 
 they shall meet 
 
 with in Vanity and therefore you cannot expect that you 
 
 Fair, and , , , , -i '^i 
 
 encouragetk them should go long on your pilgrimage without 
 ttness - them, in some sort or other. You have found 
 something of the truth of these testimonies upon you already, 
 and more will immediately follow: for now, as you see, you 
 are almost out of this wilderness, and therefore you will soon 
 come into a town that you will by and by see before you: 
 and in that town you will be hardly beset with enemies, who 
 will strain hard but they will kill you: and be you sure that 
 one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold, 
 with blood; but be you faithful unto death, and the King will 
 
 He whose lot it &* ve ^ ou a crown ^ ^ e - -^ e that shall die 
 will be there to there, although his death will be unnatural, and 
 
 suffer, will have 
 
 the better of his his pains perhaps great, he will yet have the 
 better of his fellow; not only because he will be 
 arrived at the Celestial City soonest, but because he will 
 escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the 
 rest of his journey. But when you are come to the town, and 
 shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then remember 
 your friend, and quit yourselves like men; and commit the 
 keeping of your souls to God in well-doing, as unto a faithful 
 Creator. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of 
 the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them, and 
 the name of that town is Vanity; and at the town there is 
 
90 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 a fair kept, called Vanity Fair. It is kept all the year long, 
 isa xl 17 ^ b eare th the name of Vanity Fair because the 
 
 Ecd. i. a. 14. town where 'tis kept is lighter than vanity; and 
 
 Chap. ii. 11, 17. ii i . i 
 
 also because all that is there sold, or that com- 
 eth thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, All 
 that cometh is vanity. 
 
 This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient 
 standing; I will show you the original of it. 
 
 Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims 
 walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest persons are; 
 and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with 
 V f tlieir companions, perceiving by the path that 
 the pilgrims made, that their way to the city 
 lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set 
 up a fair, a fair wherein should be sold of all sorts of vanity, 
 and that it should last all the year long. Therefore at this 
 fair are all such merchandise sold, as houses, 
 l^thT s e f^r ndiSe lands, trades, places, honors, preferments, 
 titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures 
 and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, 
 children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, 
 gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not. 
 
 And moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen 
 jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and 
 rogues, and that of every kind. 
 
 Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, mur- 
 ders, adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood-red color. 
 And as in other fairs of less moment, tnere are the several 
 rows and streets, under their proper names, where such and 
 such wares are vended; so here likewise, you 
 ha ye t ^ ie P r P er places, rows, streets (viz., 
 countries and kingdoms), where the wares of 
 this fair are soonest to be found: Here is the British Row, 
 the French Row, the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the Ger- 
 man Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 91 
 
 But as in other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief 
 of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is 
 greatly promoted in this fair; only our English nation, with 
 some others, have taken a dislike thereat. 
 
 Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just 
 
 through this town, where this lusty fair is kept; and he that 
 
 will go to the city, and yet not go through this town, must 
 
 needs "go out of the world." The Prince of 
 
 1 L/OT. V. l\J. 
 
 Christ went princes himself, when here, went through this 
 
 through this fair. 
 
 Matt. i. 8. " town to his own country, and that upon a fair- 
 
 Lukeiv.5,7. , ^, , T . . , . 
 
 day too: Yea, and as I think, it was Beelze- 
 bub, 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. Yea, because he was such a person of honor, 
 Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him 
 all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he 
 
 might (if possible) allure that Blessed One, to 
 
 Cknst bought 
 
 nothing in this cheapen and buy some of his vanities. But he 
 had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore 
 left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing 
 upon these vanities. This fair therefore is an ancient thing, 
 of long standing, and a very great fair. 
 
 Now these Pilgrims, as I said, must needs go 
 
 The pilgrims 
 
 enter the fair. through this fair. Well, so they did; but be- 
 Thefairin a hold, even as they entered into the fair, all the 
 hubbub about people in the fair were moved, and the town 
 
 them. 
 
 itself as it were in a hubbub about them; and 
 
 that for several reasons: for 
 
 First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment 
 
 The first cause as was diverse from the raiment of any that 
 traded in that fair. The people therefore of 
 the fair made a great gazing upon them: Some 
 said they were fools, some they were bedlams, 
 
 and some they are outlandish men. 
 
92 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they 
 did likewise at their speech, for few could understand what 
 they said; they naturally spoke the language of 
 fh e ehubbub' e 0/ 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- 
 chandisers, was, that these pilgrims set very light by all their 
 wares, they cared not so much as to look upon 
 
 Third cause of , -, i . . i 111 , i i 
 
 the hubbub. them; and if they called upon them to buy, 
 
 Ps. cxix. 37. th ev would put their fingers in their ears, and 
 Phil Hi 19 20 cry > "Turn away mine eyes from beholding 
 vanity," and look upwards, signifying that 
 their trade and traffic was in heaven. 
 
 One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriages of the 
 men, to say unto them, What will ye buy ? But they, look- 
 Fourth cause of in g gravely upon him, said, "We buy the truth." 
 the hubbub. At that, there was an occasion taken to despise 
 
 Prop. xxm. 23. j. ne men j_ ne more . some mocking, some taunt- 
 
 They are mocked. * i_* 11 j 11 
 
 mg, some speaking reproachfully, and some call- 
 ing upon others to smite them. At last things came to a 
 hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order 
 
 was confounded. Now was word presently 
 hubbub* in a brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly 
 
 came down, and deputed some of his most 
 trusty friends to take these men into examination, about 
 whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were 
 
 brought to examination; and they that sat upon 
 examined. them, asked them whence they came, whither 
 
 They tell who they went, and what they did there in such an 
 wh y em r e e they d unusual garb. The men told them that they 
 c uT' i t were pilgrims and strangers in the world, and 
 
 neo. xi. In lo. A *- 
 
 that they were going to their own country, 
 which was the heavenly Jerusalem; and that they had given 
 no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchan- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 93 
 
 disers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey. 
 Except it was, for that, when one asked them what they 
 would buy, they said they would "buy the truth." But 
 
 they that were appointed to examine them did 
 MieveT H0t not be li eve them to be any other than Bedlams 
 
 and mad, or else such as came to put all things 
 into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and 
 
 beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and 
 
 Pelage 6 *"* '* then P llt them int the Ca e that the y might 
 
 be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. 
 There therefore they lay for some time, and were made the 
 objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge, the great 
 
 one of the fair laughing still at all that befell 
 
 the e c^e haTiorin them - But the men bein S Patient, and not 
 rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise 
 blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for in- 
 juries done: Some men in the fair that were more observing, 
 and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame 
 m, /.., the baser sort for their continual abuses done 
 
 I tie men oj the 
 
 fair do fall out DV them to the men : They therefore in angry 
 
 among themselves , . . 
 
 about these two manner let fly at them again, counting them as 
 bad as the men in the cage, and telling them 
 that they seemed confederates, and should be made partakers 
 of their misfortunes. The other replied, That for aught they 
 could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and intended no- 
 body any harm; and that there were many that traded in 
 their fair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, 
 and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. 
 Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides (the men 
 behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly 
 before them), they fell to some blows among themselves, and 
 did harm one to another. Then were these 
 
 They are made 
 
 the authors of two poor men brought before their examiners 
 
 this disturbance. . , , 
 
 again, and there charged as being guilty of the 
 late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them 
 
94 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains 
 They are led up U P anc * down tne f au * ^ or an example and a 
 and down the terror to others, lest any should speak in their 
 
 fair in chains, . . 
 
 for a terror to 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 
 Some of the men ^ won to their side (though but few in compari- 
 totkm* * son ^ tne rest ) severa l f the men in the fair. 
 
 This put the other party yet into a greater rage, 
 resolve to kill insomuch that they concluded the death of these 
 
 two men. 1 Wherefore they threatened that the 
 cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should 
 die, for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men 
 of the fair. 
 
 Then were they remanded to the cage 
 putliTo'the^c, a g ain until further order should be taken 
 
 with them. So they put them in, and made 
 their feet fast in the stocks. 
 
 Here therefore they called again to mind what they had 
 heard from their faithful friend Evangelist, and were the 
 more confirmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told 
 them would happen to them. They also now comforted each 
 other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the 
 best on't; therefore each man secretly wished that he might 
 have that preferment: but committing themselves to the All- 
 wise disposal of him that ruleth all things, with much content 
 they abode in the condition in which they were, until they 
 should be otherwise disposed of. 
 
 Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought 
 them forth to their trial in order to their condemnation. 
 When the time was come, they were brought before their 
 
 1 Behold Vanity Fair ! the Pilgrims there 
 Are chain'd, and ston'd beside; 
 Even so it was, our Lord pass'd here, 
 And on Mount Calvary died. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 95 
 
 enemies and arraigned. The judge's name was Lord Hate- 
 good. Their indictment was one and the same 
 
 lo d trili r brOUffht in substance, though somewhat varying in form; 
 
 the contents whereof was this: 
 
 "That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their trade: 
 that they had made commotions and divisions 
 
 Their indictment. 
 
 in the town, and had won a party to their own 
 most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their 
 prince." 
 
 Then Faithful began to answer, That he had only set him- 
 self against that which had set itself against him that is 
 Fatth fid's higher than the highest. And said he, As for 
 
 answer for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man 
 
 of peace; the parties that were won to us were 
 won by beholding our truth and innocence, and they are only 
 turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you 
 talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy 
 him and all his angels. 1 
 
 Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught 
 to say for their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, 
 should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there 
 came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and 
 Pickthank. They were then asked, If they knew the pris- 
 oner 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 honorable 
 bench, That he is 
 
 JUDGE. Hold ! Give him his oath. So they sware him. 
 Then he said : My lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausi- 
 ble name, is one of the vilest men in our country; he neither 
 
 1 Now Faithful, play the man, speak for thy God: 
 Fear not the wicked's malice, nor their rod: 
 Speak boldly, man, the truth is on thy side; 
 Die for it, and to life in triumph ride. 
 
 
96 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom: but doth all that 
 he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, 
 which he in the general calls principles of faith and holiness. 
 And in particular, I heard him once myself affirm, That 
 Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity were 
 diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled. By 
 which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn 
 all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them. 
 
 JUDGE. Then did the judge say to him, Hast thou any 
 more to say? 
 
 ENVY. My lord, I could say much more, only I would 
 not be tedious to the court. Yet if need be, when the other 
 gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than anything 
 shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will enlarge my 
 testimony against him. So he was bid 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 
 man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of him; 
 However this I know, that he is a very pestilent 
 follows^ fellow, from some discourse that the other day 
 I had with him in this town; for then talking 
 with him, I heard him say, That our religion was naught, 
 and such by which a man could by no means please God: 
 which sayings of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows, 
 what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, That we still do 
 worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be 
 damned; and this is that which I have to say. 
 
 Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew, in 
 behalf of their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar. 
 PICK. My lord, and you gentlemen all, This 
 fellow I have known of a long time, and have 
 heard him speak things that ought not to be 
 spoke. For he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 97 
 
 and hath spoken contemptibly of his honorable friends, whose 
 names are the Lord Oldman, the Lord Carnal Delight, the 
 Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire-of- Vain-Glory, my old 
 Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the 
 rest of our nobility; and he hath said moreover, 
 that if all men were of his mind, if possible, 
 there is not one of these noble men should have any longer 
 a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to 
 rail on you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, 
 calling you an ungodly villain, with many other such like 
 vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the 
 gentry of our town. 
 
 When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed 
 his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying: Thou runagate, 
 heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gen- 
 tlemen have witnessed against thee ? 
 
 FAITH. May I speak a few words in my own defense ? 
 
 JUDGE. Sirrah, Sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, 
 but to be slain immediately upon the place; yet that all men 
 may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou, 
 vile runagate, hast to say. 
 
 FAITH. 1. I say then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath 
 
 spoken, I never said aught but this, That what rule, or laws, 
 
 or custom, or people, were flat against the 
 
 r dlthjUl S 
 
 defense of Word of God, are diametrically opposite to 
 
 Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, con- 
 vince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to 
 make my recantation. 
 
 2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge 
 against me, I said only this, That in the worship of God there 
 is required a divine faith; but there can be no divine faith 
 without a divine revelation of the will of God : therefore what- 
 ever is thrust into the worship of God, that is not agreeable 
 to divine revelation, cannot be done but by a human faith; 
 which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. 
 
98 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 3. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say (Avoiding 
 terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like) That the prince 
 of this town, with all the rabblement his attendants, by this 
 gentleman named, are more fit for a being in hell than in. 
 this town and country: and so the Lord have mercy upon 
 me. 
 
 Then the judge called to the jury (who all this while stood 
 
 by, to hear and observe) : Gentlemen of the Jury, you see this 
 
 man about whom so great an uproar hath been 
 
 The judge; 
 
 his speech to made in this town : you have also heard what 
 these worthy gentlemen have witnessed against 
 
 him; also you have heard his reply and confession: It lieth 
 
 now in your breasts to hang him, or save his life; But yet I 
 
 think meet to instruct you into our law. 
 
 There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, 
 
 servant to our prince, That lest those of a contrary religion 
 should multiply and grow too strong for him, 
 their males should be thrown into the river. 
 
 There was also an act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar 
 
 the Great, another of his servants, that whoever would not 
 fall down and worship his golden image, should 
 
 Dan. m. 
 
 be thrown into a nery furnace. There was 
 
 also an act made in the days of Darius, That whoso, for some 
 
 time, called upon any God but him, should be 
 
 Dan. vi. . . , , 
 
 cast into the lions den. Now the substance 
 of these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought (which 
 is not to be borne) but also in word and deed; which must 
 therefore needs be intolerable. 
 
 For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition, 
 to prevent mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is 
 a crime apparent. For the second and third, you see he 
 disputeth against our religion; and for the treason he hath 
 confessed, he deserveth to die the death. 
 
 Then went the jury out, whose names were: Mr. Blind- 
 man, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 99 
 
 loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, 
 Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Impla- 
 their^name" d cable, who every one gave in his private ver- 
 dict against him among themselves, and after- 
 wards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before 
 the judge. And first among themselves, Mr. 
 pnmte^e'rdict. Blind-man, the foreman, said, I see clearly that 
 this man is an heretic. Then said Mr. No- 
 good, Away with such a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. 
 Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. Then said Mr. 
 Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live- 
 loose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang 
 him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. 
 High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. 
 He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, 
 said Mr. Cruelty. Let's despatch him out of the way, said 
 Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have 
 all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; 
 therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death. And 
 so thev did; therefore he was presently con- 
 
 They conclude to \ 
 
 bring him in demned, To be had from the place where he 
 
 guilty of death. .11*11 j 
 
 was, to the place from whence he came, and 
 
 there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented. 
 
 They therefore brought him out, to do with him according 
 
 to their law; and first they scourged him, then they buffeted 
 
 him, then they lanced his flesh with knives; 
 
 after that the y stoned him with stones, then 
 
 pricked him with their swords; and last of all 
 A chariot and they burned him to ashes at the stake. 1 Thus 
 
 horses wait to T^ . i ( i . i i T^.T T . i , 
 
 takeaway came raithful to his end. Now, 1 saw that 
 
 there stood behind the multitude, a chariot and 
 
 a couple of horses, waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as his 
 
 1 Brave Faithful, bravely done in word and deed; 
 Judge, witnesses, and jury, have instead 
 Of overcoming thee, but shown their rage: 
 When they are dead, thou'lt live, from age to age. 
 
100 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 adversaries had despatched him) was taken up into it and 
 
 straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound 
 
 of trumpet, the nearest way to the Celestial Gate. But as 
 
 for Christian, he had some respite, and was 
 
 Christian is still reman( jed back to prison, so he there remained 
 
 for a space: But he that overrules all things, 
 
 having the power of their rage in his own hand, so wrought 
 
 it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and 
 
 went his way. 
 
 And as he went he sang, saying : 
 
 The song that Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest 
 
 C ?r' ? fe f a i e U nto thy Lord: with whom thou shalt be blest; 
 of Faithful after , . J . . . . ' 
 
 his death. When faithless ones, with all their vain delights, 
 
 Are crying out under their hellish plights, 
 Sing, Faithful, sing; and let thy name survive, 
 For though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth 
 
 alone, for there was one whose name was Hopeful (being 
 
 made so by the beholding of Christian and 
 
 Christian has . . . 
 
 another v aithf ul in their words and behavior in their 
 
 companion. ,,i i \ i i i i> 
 
 sufferings at the tair), who joined himself unto 
 him, and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that 
 he would be his companion. Thus, one died to bear testi- 
 mony to the truth, and another rises out of his 
 
 There are more ' . . 
 
 of the men of the ashes to be a companion with Christian in his 
 pilgrimage. This Hopeful also told Christian 
 
 that there were many more of the men in the fair that would 
 
 take their time and follow after. 
 
 So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the fair 
 
 they overtook one that was going before them, whose name 
 was By-ends: so they said to him, What 
 
 y y ends e " a1{e countryman, Sir? and how far go you this 
 way? He told them that he came from the 
 
 town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City 
 
 (but told them not his name). 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 101 
 
 From Fair-speech! said Christian; is there any that be 
 good that lives there ? 
 
 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 
 
 nlL. to me: if y u be g in g this wa y J sha11 be g lad 
 
 of your company; if not, I must be content. 
 
 CHR. This town of Fair-speech I have heard of, and, as I 
 remember, they say it's a wealthy place. 
 
 BY-ENDS. Yes, I will assure you that it is; and I have 
 very many rich kindred there. 
 
 CHR. Pray, who are your kindred there, if a man may be 
 so bold? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Almost the whole town; and, in particular, my 
 Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech 
 (from whose ancestors that town first took its name) : also Mr. 
 Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Anything; and the 
 parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's 
 own brother, by father's side; and to tell you the truth, I am 
 become a gentleman of good quality; yet my great-grand- 
 father was but a waterman, looking one way and rowing an- 
 other; and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. 
 
 CHR. Are you a married man ? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, 
 
 the daughter of a virtuous woman; She was my Lady Feign- 
 
 ing's daughter, therefore she came of a very 
 
 The wife and c , , . ., , . 
 
 kindred of honorable family, and is arrived to such a 
 
 pitch of breeding that she knows how to carry 
 
 it to all, even to prince and peasant. 'Tis true, we somewhat 
 
 differ in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in 
 
 two small points : First, we never strive against 
 
 di/erl from" ' wind and tide: Secondly, we are always most 
 
 religion 1 zealous when Religion goes in his silver slippers; 
 
 we love much to walk with him in the street, if 
 
 the sun shines, and the people applaud him. 
 
102 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, 
 saying, It runs in my mind that this is one By-ends of Fair- 
 speech, and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our com- 
 pany as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask 
 him; methinks he should not be ashamed of his name. So 
 Christian came up with him again, and said. Sir, you talk as 
 if you knew something more than all the world doth, and if 
 I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you: 
 Is not your name Mr. By-ends of Fair-speech ? 
 
 BY-ENDS. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nick- 
 name that is given me by some that cannot abide me; and I 
 must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men 
 have borne theirs before me. 
 
 CHR. But did you never give an occasion to men to call 
 you by this name? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Never, never ! the worst that ever I did to 
 give them an occasion to give me this name was, That I 
 had always the luck to jump in my judgment 
 with the Present way of the times, whatever it 
 was, and my chance was to get thereby; but 
 if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a blessing, 
 but let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach. 
 
 CHR. I thought indeed that you were the man that I 
 heard of, and to tell you what I think, I fear this name be- 
 longs to you more properly than you are willing we should 
 think it doth. 
 
 BY-ENDS. Well, if you will thus imagine, 
 
 He desires to 
 
 keep company I cannot help it. You shall nnd me a 
 
 with Christian. . . M1 . . n * .. 
 
 fair company-keeper, if you will still admit 
 me your associate. 
 
 CHR. If you will go with us, you must go against wind 
 and tide, the which, I perceive, is against your opinion: You 
 must also own Religion in his rags, as well as when in his 
 silver slippers, and stand by him too, when bound in irons, 
 as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 103 
 
 BY-ENDS. You must not impose, nor lord it over my 
 faith; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. 
 
 CHR. Not a step further, unless you will do in what I 
 propound, as we. 
 
 Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, 
 since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go 
 with you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even 
 go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my 
 company. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful for- 
 sook him, and kept their distance before him; but one of them 
 looking back, saw three men following Mr. 
 Ch^tianlirt. By-ends, and behold, as they came up with 
 him, he made them a very low congee, and they 
 also gave him a compliment. The men's names were Mr. 
 Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-love, and Mr. Save-all; men that 
 Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted 
 wmp a anion*. witn ' ^ or m t * ieir minority they were school- 
 fellows, and taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a 
 schoolmaster in Love-gain, which is a market-town in the 
 county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught 
 them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, 
 lying, or by putting on a guise of religion; and these four gen- 
 tlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so that 
 they could each of them have kept such a school themselves. 
 
 Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, 
 Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, Who are they upon 
 the road before us? (For Christian and Hopeful were yet 
 within view.) 
 
 B ends' BY-ENDS. They are a couple of far country- 
 
 character of the men, that after their mode are going on pil- 
 
 pilgnms. 
 
 gnmage. 
 
 MONEY-LOVE. Alas ! why did not they stay, that we might 
 have had their good company? for they, and we, and you, 
 Sir, I hope, are all going on a pilgrimage. 
 
104 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 BY-ENDS. We are so indeed, but the men before us are 
 so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so 
 lightly esteem the opinions of others, that let a man be never 
 so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they 
 thrust him quite out of their company. 
 
 SAVE-ALL. That's bad; but we read of some, that 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 their journey all weathers, 
 and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for haz- 
 arding all for God at a clap, and I am for taking all advan- 
 tages to secure my life and estate. They are for holding 
 their notions, though all other men be against them; but I 
 am for religion in what, and so far as, the times and my 
 safety will bear it. They are for religion when in rags and 
 contempt; but I am for him when he walks in his golden slip- 
 pers, in the sunshine, and with applause. 
 
 HOLD-THE- WORLD. Ay, and hold you there still, good Mr. 
 By-ends; for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, that, 
 having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise 
 as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents: 'tis best to make 
 hay when the sun shines; you see how the bee lieth still all 
 winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with 
 pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sun- 
 shine; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us 
 be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, 
 I like that religion best that will stand with the security of 
 God's good blessings unto us; for who can imagine, that is 
 ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the 
 good things of this life, but that he would have us keep them 
 for his sake? Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion. 
 And Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 105 
 
 But he must not be such as the men before us, if they be as 
 you have described them. 
 
 SAVE-ALL. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, 
 and therefore there needs no more words about it. 
 
 MONEY-LOVE. No, there needs no more words about this 
 matter indeed; for he that believes neither Scripture nor 
 reason (and you see we have both on our side) neither knows 
 his own liberty nor seeks his own safety. 
 
 BY-ENDS. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on 
 pilgrimage; and for our better diversion from things that are 
 bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question: 
 
 Suppose a man, a minister or a tradesman, etc., should 
 have an advantage lie before him to get the good blessings 
 of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them, 
 except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinary 
 zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with 
 before; may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet 
 be a right honest man ? 
 
 MONEY-LOVE. I see the bottom of your question, and 
 with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavor to shape 
 you an answer. And first to speak to your question as it 
 concerneth a minister himself: Suppose a minister, a worthy 
 man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has in his 
 eye a greater, more fat and plump by far; he has also now 
 an opportunity of getting of it, yet so as by being more 
 studious, by preaching more frequently and zealously, and, 
 because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of 
 some of his principles; for my part I see no reason but a 
 man may do this (provided he has a call), ay, and more a 
 great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why 
 
 1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be 
 contradicted), since it is set before him by providence; so 
 then, he may get it if he can, making no question for con- 
 science sake. 
 
 2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more 
 
106 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 studious, a more zealous preacher, etc., and so makes him a 
 better man; yea, makes him better improve his parts, which 
 is according to the mind of God. 
 
 3. Now as for his complying with the temper of his people, 
 by dissenting, to serve them, some of his principles, this 
 argue th, 1. That he is of a self-denying temper; 2. Of a 
 sweet and winning deportment; 3. And so more fit for the 
 ministerial function. 
 
 4. I conclude then, that a minister that changes a small 
 for a great, should not for so doing be judged as covetous; 
 but rather, since he is improved in his parts and industry 
 thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the 
 opportunity put into his hand to do good. 
 
 And now to the second part of the question which con- 
 cerns the tradesman you mentioned: Suppose such an one 
 to have but a poor employ in the world, but by becoming 
 religious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, 
 or more and far better customers to his shop; for my part I 
 see" no reason but this may be lawfully done. For why 
 
 1. To become religious is a virtue, by what means soever 
 a man becomes so. 
 
 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to 
 my shop. 
 
 3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming religious, 
 gets that which is good, of them that are good, by becoming 
 good himself: so then here is a good wife, and good customers, 
 and good gain, and all these by becoming religious, which is 
 good: therefore to become religious to get all these is a good 
 and profitable design. 
 
 This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money-love to Mr. 
 By-ends' question, was highly applauded by them all; where- 
 fore they concluded upon the whole, that it was most whole- 
 some 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 107 
 
 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 salu- 
 tation, Mr. Hold-the-world propounded the question to 
 Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they 
 could. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may 
 
 answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful 
 
 to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, how much 
 
 John vi. . 
 
 more abominable is it to make 01 him and 
 religion a stalking-horse, to get and enjoy the world? Nor 
 do we find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and 
 witches, that are of this opinion. 
 
 1. Heathens: for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind 
 to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that there was 
 no way for them to come at them but by 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 ours? 
 
 Their daughter and their cattle were that which 
 2o-<b x:mP ' tnev sought to obtain, and their religion the 
 
 stalking-horse they made use of to come at 
 them. Read the whole story. 
 
 2. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion; 
 
 long prayers were their pretense, but to get 
 widows' houses was their intent; and greater 
 damnation was from God their judgment. 
 
 3. Judas the devil was also of this religion; he was religious 
 
 
108 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 
 Acts. vni. 19-22. . 
 
 got money therewith, and his sentence from 
 Peter's mouth was according. 
 
 5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that 
 takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for 
 the world; for so surely as Judas designed the world in be- 
 coming 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 soundness of Christian's answer; so there was a great 
 silence among them. Mr. By-ends and his company also 
 staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might 
 outgo them. Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men 
 cannot stand before the sentence of men, what will they do 
 with the sentence of God ? And if they are mute when dealt 
 with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be 
 rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire ? 
 
 Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and 
 
 went till they came at a delicate plain called Ease, where 
 
 they went with much content; but that plain 
 
 The ease that i , > i i 
 
 pilgrims have is was but narrow, so they were quickly got over 
 this l u in it- Now at the further side of that plain was 
 
 a little hill called Lucre, and in that hill a sil- 
 ver-mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that 
 way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see; but 
 going too near the brink of the pit, the ground 
 bein 2 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. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 109 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the road, 
 
 Demos at the over against the silver-mine, stood Demas 
 
 (gentlemanlike) to call to passengers to come 
 
 He calls to and see ; who said to Christian and his fellow : 
 
 Christian and TT . . , . . . _ ... 
 
 Hopeful to come Ho, turn aside hither, and I will show you 
 
 to him. ,i 
 
 a thing. 
 
 CHR. What thing so deserving, as to turn us out of the 
 way? 
 
 DEMAS. Here is a silver-mine, and some digging in it for 
 treasure; if you will come, with a little pains you may richly 
 provide for yourselves. 
 
 HOPE. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see. 
 togo,but em CHR. Not I, said Christian; I have heard of 
 
 hi^t holds this place before now, and how many have 
 there been slain; and besides, that treasure is a 
 snare to those that seek it, for it hindereth them in their pil- 
 grimage. Then Christian called to Demas, 
 
 tlos. iv. 18. . 
 
 saying, Is not the place dangerous ? hath it not 
 hindered many in their pilgrimage? 
 
 DEMAS. Not very dangerous, except to those that are 
 careless; but withal, he blushed as he spake. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a 
 step, but still keep on our way. 
 
 HOPE. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he 
 hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see. 
 
 CHR. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that 
 way, and a hundred to one but he dies there. 
 
 DEMAS. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you 
 not come over and see ? 
 
 CHR. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, 
 
 Thou art an enemy to the right ways of the Lord of this way, 
 
 and hast been already condemned for thine 
 
 roundethup own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's 
 
 ^Tim. ' iv. 10. judges; and why seekest thou to bring us into 
 
 the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all 
 
 turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and 
 
110 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 will there put us to shame, where we would stand with bold- 
 ness before him. 
 
 Demas cried again, That he also was one of their frater- 
 nity; and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself 
 would walk with them. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, What is thy name? is it not 
 the same by the which I have called thee? 
 
 DEMAS. Yes, my name is Demas, I am the son of Abra- 
 ham. 
 
 CHR. I know you, Gehazi was your great-grandfather, 
 and Judas your father, and you have trod their 
 steps. It is but a devilish prank that thou 
 Matt^xxm. usest; thy father was hanged for a traitor, and 
 
 Chap. xxviL thou deservest no better reward. Assure thy- 
 self that when we come to the King, we will do 
 him word of this thy behavior. Thus they went their way. 
 By this time By-ends and his companions were come again 
 within sight, and they at the first beck went over to Demas. 
 Now, whether they fell into the pit by looking 
 mL. over tne brink thereof, or whether they went 
 down to dig, or whether they were smothered 
 in the bottom, by the damps that commonly arise, of these 
 things I am not certain; But this I observed, that they never 
 were seen again in the way. Then sang Christian: 
 
 By-ends and Silver-Demas both agree; 
 One calls, the other runs, that he may be 
 A sharer in his lucre; so these two 
 Take up in this world, and no further go. 
 
 Now I saw, that just on the other side of this plain, the 
 pilgrims came to a place where stood an old monument, hard 
 Th see a ^ v ^ highway-side, at the sight of which 
 
 strange they were both concerned, because of the 
 
 monument. f , , ( , 
 
 strangeness ot the torm tnereot; tor it seemed 
 to them as if it had been a woman transformed into the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 111 
 
 shape of a pillar : here therefore they stood looking, and look- 
 ing upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should 
 make thereof. At last Hopeful espied written above upon 
 the head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand; but he being 
 no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if 
 he could pick out the meaning; so he came, and after a little 
 laying of letters together, he found the same to be this, "Re- 
 member Lot's wife." So he read it to his fellow; after which 
 they both concluded that that was the pillar 
 
 Gen. xix. 26. f 
 
 of salt into which Lot s wife was turned, tor 
 her looking back with a covetous heart, when she was going 
 from Sodom for safety. Which sudden and amazing sight 
 gave them occasion of this discourse: 
 
 CHR. Ah, my brother, this is a seasonable sight; it came 
 opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave us 
 to come over to view the Hill Lucre; and had we gone over 
 as he desired us, and as thou wast inclined to do (my brother), 
 we had, for aught I know, been made ourselves like this 
 woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to behold. 
 
 HOPE. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to 
 wonder that I am not now as Lot's wife; for wherein was the 
 difference 'twixt her sin and mine? she only looked back, 
 and I had a desire to go see. Let grace be adored, and let 
 me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in mine 
 heart. 
 
 CHR. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our 
 help for time to come: this woman escaped one judgment, 
 for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom; yet she was 
 destroyed by another; as we see, she is turned into a pillar 
 of salt. 
 
 HOPE. True, and she may be to us both caution and 
 example; caution that we should shun her sin, or a sign of 
 what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented 
 by this caution: so Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the 
 two hundred and fifty men that perished in their sin, did 
 
112 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 also become a sign or example to others to beware : but above 
 
 all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas 
 
 Nmn. xxvi. an( j j^ s f e u ows can s t a nd so confidently yonder 
 
 to look for that treasure, which this woman, 
 
 but for looking behind her, after (for we read not that she 
 
 stepped one foot out of the way) was turned into a pillar of 
 
 salt; specially since the judgment which overtook her, did 
 
 make her an example, within sight of where they are : for they 
 
 cannot choose but see her, did they but lift up their eyes. 
 
 CHR. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that 
 their hearts are grown desperate in the case; and I cannot 
 tell who to compare them to so fitly, as to them that pick 
 pockets in the presence of the judge, or that will cut purses 
 
 under the gallows. It is said of the men of 
 
 Gen. xiu. 13. 
 
 Sodom, ' that they were sinners exceedingly, 
 because they were sinners "before the Lord"; that is, in his 
 eyesight; and notwithstanding the kindnesses that he had 
 
 showed them, for the land of Sodom was now 
 
 like the garden of Eden heretofore. This 
 therefore provoked him the more to jealousy, and made 
 their plague as hot as the fire of the Lord out of heaven 
 could make it. And it is most rationally to be concluded, 
 that such, even such as these are, that shall sin in the sight, 
 yea, and that too in despite of such examples that are set 
 continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, 
 must be partakers of severest judgments. 
 
 HOPE. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; but what a 
 mercy is it, that neither thou, but 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. 
 A river I saw then, that they went on their way to 
 
 a pleasant river, which David the king called 
 &.*.' the "river of God," but John, the "river of the 
 
 water of life." Now their way lay just upon 
 the bank of the river; here therefore Christian and his 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 113 
 
 companion walked with great delight; they drank also of 
 
 the water of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening to 
 
 their weary spirits: besides, on the banks of this river on 
 
 either side were green trees, that bore all man- 
 
 Trees by the . ' 
 
 river. ner oi truit; and the leaves of the trees were 
 
 The fruit and gd for medicine; with the fruit of these trees 
 l t e r e s s f the they were also much delighted; and the leaves 
 they ate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases 
 that are incident to those that heat their blood by travels. 
 On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously 
 beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year long. In 
 A meadow in tn * s meadow they lay down and slept, for here 
 which they lie thev might lie down safely. When they awoke, 
 
 down to sleep. 
 
 Ps. xxiii. 2. they gathered again or the fruit of the trees, 
 
 Isa. xiv. 30. ITT <> . i i 
 
 and drank again or the water ui the river, and 
 then lay down again to sleep. Thus they did several days 
 and nights. Then they sang: 
 
 Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide 
 
 (To comfort Pilgrims) by the highway-side; 
 
 The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, 
 
 Yield dainties for them; And he that can tell 
 
 What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, 
 
 Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field. 
 
 So when they were disposed to go on (for they were 
 not, as yet, at their journey's end) they ate and drank, and 
 departed. 
 
 Now I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed 
 
 far, but the river and the way, for a time, parted; at which 
 
 they were not a little sorry, yet they durst not go out of the 
 
 way. Now the way from the river was rough, and their feet 
 
 . tender by reason of their travels; so the souls 
 
 Num. xxi. 4. / 
 
 of the pilgrims were much discouraged because 
 of the way: Wherefore still as they went on, they wished for 
 better way. Now a little before them, there was on the left 
 hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over into it, 
 
114 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said 
 Christian to his fellow, If this meadow lieth 
 
 By-path 
 
 Meadow. along by our wayside, let s go over into it. 
 
 ~ ... Then he went to the stile to see, and behold a 
 
 Une temptation 
 
 does make way path lay along by the way on the other side of 
 
 for another. r ' 
 
 the tence. lis according to my wish, said 
 
 Christian, here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and 
 
 let us go over. 
 
 HOPE. But how if this path should lead us out of the way ? 
 CHR. That's not like, said the other; look, doth it not go 
 
 along by the wayside ? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his 
 fellow, went after him over the stile. When 
 they were gone over, and were got into the 
 path, they found it very easy for their feet: 
 and withal, they looking before them, espied 
 
 a man walking as they did (and his name was Vain-confi- 
 
 dence), so they called after him, and asked him whither that 
 way led ? He said, To the Celestial Gate. Look, 
 
 too suddenly to said Christian, did not I tell you so'? by this 
 
 strangers! vou mav se ^ we are right. So they followed, 
 
 and he went before them. But behold the 
 
 night came on, and it grew very dark, so that they that were 
 
 behind lost the sight of him that went before. 
 
 He therefore that went before (Vain-confi- 
 
 the P vainglorious dence by name) not seeing the way before him, 
 
 Tsa. ix. 16. fell m ^ a deep pit, which was on purpose there 
 
 made by the Prince of those grounds, to catch 
 
 vainglorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his 
 
 fall. 
 
 Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they 
 called, to know the matter, but there was none 
 
 between 119 to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then 
 
 H h opefuL and said Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was 
 his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had 
 
 led him out of the way; and now it began to rain, and thun- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 115 
 
 der, and lighten in a very dreadful manner, and the water 
 rose amain. 
 
 Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh, that I had 
 kept on my way ! 
 
 CHR. Who could have thought that this path should have 
 led us out of the way ? 
 
 HOPE. I was afraid on't at the very first, and therefore 
 gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, 
 but that you are older than I. 
 . .. , CHR. Good brother, be not offended; I 
 
 Christian s 
 
 repentance for am sorry I have brought thee out of the 
 
 leading of his . . 
 
 brother out of way, and that I have put thee into such immi- 
 nent danger; 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's try to go back again. 
 HOPE. But, good brother, let me go before. 
 CHR. No, if you please, let me go first; that, if there be 
 any danger, I may be first therein, because by my means we 
 are both gone out of the way. 
 
 HOPE. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first; for your 
 mind being troubled, may lead you out of the way again. 
 Jer xxxi 21 Then for their encouragement, they heard the 
 voice of one saying, "Let thine heart be towards 
 the highway, even the way that thou wen test; turn again." 
 But by this time the waters were greatly risen, 
 danger'of by reason of which the way of going back was 
 . Vei 7 dan p rous - ( Then I thought that it is 
 easier going out of the way when we are in, 
 than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go 
 back; but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in 
 their going back, they had like to have been drowned nine or 
 ten times. 
 
116 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again 
 to the stile that night. Wherefore, at last lighting under a 
 little shelter, they sat down there till the day 
 the grounds of brake; but, being weary, they fell asleep. 1 Now 
 there was, not far from the place where they 
 lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof 
 was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds they now were 
 sleeping: wherefore he getting up in the morn- 
 m g early, and walking up and down in his 
 Doubting e Za%le. fields > caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in 
 his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice 
 he bid them awake, and asked them whence they were, and 
 what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pil- 
 grims, 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 be- 
 fore him, and put them into his castle, into a very dark dun- 
 geon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these 
 
 The gnevousness ' TUT 
 
 of their two men: here then they lay, from Wednesday 
 
 imprisonment. . , .,, , , . , . .., i . p 
 
 morning till Saturday night, without one bit of 
 
 bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did. 
 
 They were therefore here in evil case, and were 
 
 Ps. Ixxxviii. 18. / . 
 
 far from friends and acquaintance. JNow in this 
 place, Christian had double sorrow, because 'twas through his 
 unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress. 
 Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffi- 
 dence. So when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what 
 he had done, to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, 
 and cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds, 
 
 1 The Pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh, 
 Will seek its ease; but oh ! how they afresh 
 Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into ! 
 Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 117 
 
 Then he asked her also what he had best to do further to 
 them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, 
 and whither they were bound; and he told her. Then she 
 counselled him, that when he arose in the morning he should 
 beat them, without any mercy. So when he arose, he get- 
 teth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into 
 the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them 
 as if they were dogs, although they gave him never a word 
 
 of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and 
 (Hani Despair beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they 
 prisoners. were not a ^^ e to help themselves, or to turn 
 
 them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws 
 and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn 
 under their distress: so all that day they spent the time in 
 nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, 
 she, talking with her husband about them further, and under- 
 standing that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel 
 
 them to make away themselves. So when 
 (iiant n De^pair morning was come, he goes to them in a surly 
 7;i!rthemsdws i . m anner as before, and perceiving them to be 
 
 very sore with the stripes that he had given 
 them the day before, he told them, that since they were 
 never like to come out of that place, their only way would 
 be, forthwith to make an end of themselves, either with 
 knife, halter, or poison: For why, said he, should you choose 
 life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness ? But they 
 desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon 
 them, and rushing to them had doubtless made an end of 
 them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he 
 
 sometimes in sunshiny weather fell into fits), 
 
 The Giant 
 
 sometimes has and lost (for a time) the use of his hand; where- 
 fore he withdrew, and left them (as before), to 
 consider what to do. Then did the prisoners consult be- 
 tween themselves, whether 'twas best to take his counsel or 
 no; and thus they began to discourse: 
 
118 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The 
 life that we now live is miserable : for my part 
 
 Christian 
 
 crushed. I know not whether is best, to live thus, or 
 
 to die out of hand. "My soul choose th 
 
 Job mi. 15. 
 
 strangling rather than life, and the grave is 
 more easy for me than this dungeon: Shall we be ruled by 
 the Giant? 
 
 HOPE. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and 
 death would be far more welcome to me than thus forever 
 to abide : But yet let us consider, the Lord of the country to 
 which we are going hath said, Thou shalt do no murder, no, 
 not to another man's person; much more then are we for- 
 bidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that 
 kills another, can but commit murder upon his body; but for 
 one to kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once. And 
 
 moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease in 
 "mfortshim. the &*'> but hast thou forgotten the hell, 
 
 whither for certain the murderers go? for, "no 
 murderer hath eternal life," etc. And, let us consider, again, 
 that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair: Others, 
 so far as I can understand, have been taken by him as well 
 as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand: Who knows, 
 but that God that made the world, may cause that Giant 
 Despair may die; or that at some time or other he may for- 
 get to lock us in; or but he may in a short time have another 
 of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs; and 
 if ever that should come to pass again, for my part I am 
 resolved to pluck up .the heart of a man, and to try my 
 utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did 
 not try to do it before; but however, my brother, let's be 
 patient, and endure a while: the time may come that may 
 give us a happy release; but let us not be our own murderers. 
 With these words Hopeful at present did moderate the mind 
 of his brother; so they continued together (in the dark) that 
 day, in their sad and doleful condition. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 119 
 
 Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dun- 
 geon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel; but 
 when he came there, he found them alive, and truly, alive 
 was all; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by 
 reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they 
 could do little but breathe: But, I say, he found them alive; 
 at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that see- 
 ing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with 
 them than if they had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian 
 
 fell into a swoon; but coming a little to himself again, they 
 
 renewed their discourse about the giant's coun- 
 
 dect'ed n Stil1 sel and whether yet they had best to take it 
 
 or no. Now Christian again seemed to be for 
 
 doing it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth: 
 
 HOPE. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how 
 valiant thou hast been heretofore? Apollyon could not 
 
 ' -,' crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, 
 
 Hopejul 
 
 comforts kim O r see, or feel in the Valley of the Shadow of 
 
 again, by calling , 
 
 former things to Death; what hardship, terror, and amazement 
 
 remembrance. , fl , , . , , . 
 
 hast thou already gone through, and art thou 
 now nothing but fear ? Thou seest that I am in the dungeon 
 with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art: Also 
 this giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut 
 off the bread and water from my mouth; and with thee I 
 mourn without the light. But let's exercise a little more 
 patience. Remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity 
 Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain nor cage; nor yet 
 of bloody death : wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, 
 that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with 
 patience as well as we can. 
 
 Now night being come again, and the Giant and his wife 
 being in bed, she asked him concerning the prisoners, and if 
 they had taken his counsel. To which he replied, They are 
 sturdy rogues, they choose rather to bear all hardship, than 
 
120 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 to make away themselves. Then said she, Take them into 
 the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and 
 skulls of those that thou hast already despatched, and make 
 them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear 
 them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. 
 So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them 
 again, and takes them into the castle-yard, and shows them 
 
 On ^aturdai the as ms w ^ e ^ a d bidden him. These, said he, 
 Giant threatened were pilgrims as you are, once, and thev tres- 
 
 that shortly he . 
 
 would pull them passed in my grounds, as you have done; and 
 when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces, and 
 so within ten days I will do you. Go, get you down to your 
 den again; and with that he beat them all the way thither. 
 They lay therefore all day on Saturday in lamentable case, 
 as before. Now when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffi- 
 dence and her husband the Giant were got to bed, they began 
 to renew their discourse of their prisoners; and withal, the 
 old Giant wondered, that he could neither by his blows, nor 
 counsel, bring them to an end. And with that his wife re- 
 plied, I fear, said she, that they live in hope that some will 
 come to relieve them, or that they have pick-locks about 
 them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And, 
 sayest thou so, my dear? said the Giant, I will therefore 
 search them in the morning. 
 
 Well, on Saturday about midnight they began to pray, 
 and continued in prayer till almost break of day. 
 
 Now a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half 
 amazed, brake out in this passionate speech: What a fool, 
 A ^ in quoth he, am I thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, 
 
 Christians when I may as well walk at liberty ! I have a 
 
 bosom, called . . 
 
 Promise, key in my bosom called Promise, that will, I 
 
 opens any lock , , , , . -^ , . 
 
 in Doubting am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting 
 Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news; 
 good brother, pluck it out of thy bosom and try. 
 
 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 121 
 
 try at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the key) 
 gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian 
 and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward 
 door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his key opened 
 that door also. After he went to the ircn gate, for that must 
 be opened too, but that lock went damnable hard, yet the 
 key did open it; then they thrust open the gate to make their 
 escape with speed, but that gate, as it opened, made such a 
 creaking, that it w r aked Giant Despair, who hastily rising to 
 pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took 
 him again, so that he could by no means go after them. 
 Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and so 
 were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. 
 
 Now when they were gone over the stile, they began to 
 
 contrive with themselves what they should do at that stile, 
 
 to prevent those that should come after from 
 
 A pillar erected ... 
 
 bu Christian and falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So 
 they consented to erect there a pillar, and to 
 engrave upon the side thereof this sentence, "Over this stile 
 is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant De- 
 spair, 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 dan- 
 ger. This done, they sang as follows 
 
 Out of the way we went, and then we found 
 
 What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground; 
 
 And let them that come after have a care, 
 
 Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare: 
 
 Lest they, for trespassing, his prisoners are, 
 
 Whose Castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair. 
 
 They went then, till they came to the Delectable Moun- 
 tains, 1 which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill, of 
 
 1 Mountains Delectable they now ascend, 
 Where Shepherds be, which to them do commend 
 Alluring things, and things that cautious are, 
 Pilgrims are steady kept by faith and fear. 
 
122 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 which we have spoken before; so they went up to the moun- 
 tains, to behold the gardens and orchards, 
 tne vineyards, and fountains of water; where 
 also they drank, and washed themselves, and 
 
 did freely eat of the vineyards. Now there were on the 
 tops of these mountains Shepherds feeding their 
 
 refreshed in the flocks, and they stood by the highway-side. 
 The pilgrims therefore went to them, and lean- 
 
 ' lu & u P on their staves (as is common with 
 weary pilgrims, when they stand to talk with 
 any by the way) they asked, Whose delectable Mountains 
 are these ? and whose be the sheep that feed upon them ? 
 
 SHEP. These mountains are Irnmanuers 
 
 John #.11. 
 
 Land, and they are within sight of his city; and 
 the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for them. 
 CHR. Is this the way to the Celestial City ? 
 SHEP. You are just in your way. 
 CHR. How far is it thither? 
 
 SHEP. Too far for any, but those that shall get thither 
 indeed. 
 
 CHR. Is the way safe, or dangerous ? 
 
 . SHEP. Safe for those for whom it is to be 
 
 safe, but transgressors shall fall therein. 
 CHR. Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims that are 
 weary and faint in the way? 
 
 SHEP. The Lord of these mountains hath 
 
 Heb. xni. 1, 2. 
 
 given us a charge not to be forgetful to enter- 
 
 tain strangers; 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 put questions 
 
 to them (to which they made answer as in 
 kome P them? other P^ces), as, Whence came you? and, 
 
 How got you into the way ? and, By . what 
 means have you so persevered therein? For but few of 
 them that begin to come hither, do show their face on 
 these mountains. But when the Shepherds heard their 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 123 
 
 answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly 
 upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable Mountains ! 
 The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Ex- 
 perience, Watchful, and Sincere, took them by the hand, 
 
 and had them to their tents, and made them 
 Z e sTepherd{ partake of that which was ready at present. 
 
 They said moreover, We would that you should 
 stay here a while, to be acquainted with us, and yet more to 
 solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable Moun- 
 tains. They then told them that they were content to stay; 
 and so they went to their rest that night, because it w r as very 
 late. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning, the Shep- 
 herds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them 
 
 upon the mountains: So they went forth with 
 Jk^n wonders, them, and walked a while, having a pleasant 
 
 prospect on every side. Then said the Shep- 
 herds one to another, Shall we show these pilgrims some 
 wonders? So when they had concluded to do it, they had 
 
 them first to the top of a hill called Error, 
 of h En ntain which was very steep on the farthest side, and 
 
 bid them look down to the bottom. So Chris- 
 tian 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 Shep- 
 herds answered, Have you not heard of them that were made 
 to err, by hearkening to Hymenseus and Philetus, as concern- 
 .. ing the faith of the resurrection of the body? 
 
 They answered, Yes. Then said the Shep- 
 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 mountain. 
 
 Then I saw that they had them to the top of another 
 mountain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them 
 
124 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 look afar off; which when they did, they perceived, as they 
 thought, several men walking up and down 
 
 Mount Caution. 
 
 among the tombs that were there. And they 
 perceived that the men were blind, because they stumbled 
 sometimes upon the tombs, and because they could not get 
 out from among them. Then said Christian, What means 
 this? 
 
 The Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little 
 below these mountains a stile that led into a meadow on the 
 left hand of this way ? They answered, Yes. Then said the 
 Shepherds, From that stile there goes a path that leads di- 
 rectly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair; 
 and these men (pointing to them among the tombs) came 
 once on pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to 
 that same stile. And because the right way was rough in 
 that place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and 
 there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into Doubting 
 Castle; where, after they had a while been kept in the dun- 
 geon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among 
 those tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very 
 day; that the saying of the wise man might be 
 
 Prov. xxi. 16. 
 
 fulfilled, "He that wandereth out of the way 
 of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the 
 dead." Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one an- 
 other, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the 
 Shepherds. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that the Shepherds had them to 
 another place, in a bottom, where was a door in the side of a 
 hill; and they opened the door, and bid them look in. They 
 looked in therefore, and saw that within it was very dark, 
 and smoky; they also thought that they heard there a rum- 
 bling noise as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and that 
 they smelt the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, 
 
 What means this? The Shepherds told them, 
 
 A byway to hell. . 
 
 This is a byway to hell, a way that hypo- 
 crites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 125 
 
 Esau; such as sell their Master, with Judas; such as blas- 
 pheme the gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and dissem- 
 ble, with Ananias and Sappbira his wife. 
 
 HOPE. Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive 
 that these had on them, even every one, a show of Pilgrim- 
 age, as we have now; had they not? 
 
 SHEP. Yes, and held it a long time too. 
 
 HOPE. How far might they go on pilgrimage in their 
 day, since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast 
 away ? 
 
 SHEP. Some farther, and some not so far as these moun- 
 tains. 
 
 Then said the pilgrims one to another, We had need to 
 cry to the Strong for strength. 
 
 SHEP. Ay, and you will have need to use it when you 
 have it too. 
 
 By this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forward, 
 and the Shepherds a desire they should; so they walked to- 
 gether towards the end of the mountains. Then said the 
 Shepherds one to another, Let us here show to the pilgrims 
 the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill 
 
 The Shepherds' i i ii i i mi 
 
 perspective-glass, to look through our perspective-glass. I he 
 The inn clear, pilgrims then lovingly accepted the motion : So 
 
 they had them to the top of a high hill, called 
 Clear, and gave them their glass to look. 
 
 Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of that 
 last thing that the Shepherds had showed them, made their 
 
 hands shake, by means of which impediment 
 lni{fear f the y could not look steadily through the glass; 
 
 yet they thought they saw something like the 
 gate, and also some of the glory of the place. Then they 
 went away and sang this song 
 
 Thus by the Shepherds secrets are reveal'd, 
 Which from all other men are kept conceal'd: 
 Come to the Shepherds then, if you would see 
 Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be. 
 
126 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 
 iatdion take need that the y slee p not u p n tne En - 
 
 chanted Ground. And the fourth bid them 
 Godspeed. So I awoke from my dream. 
 
 And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two 
 pilgrims going down the mountains along the highway 
 
 towards the city. Now, a little below these 
 Concn 9 utof mountains, on the left hand, lieth the country 
 Ignorance 6 ^ Conceit; from which country there comes 
 
 into the way in which the pilgrims walked a 
 little crooked lane. Here therefore they met with a very 
 brisk lad, that came out of that country, and his name was 
 Ignorance. So Christian asked him from what parts he 
 came, and whither he was going. 
 
 IGNOR. Sir, I was born in the country that 
 
 Christian and . , i i i iiii i IT 
 
 Ignorance have lieth off there, a little on the left hand; and I 
 
 some talk. . ,, /^ i , /-,.. 
 
 am going to the Celestial City. 
 
 CHR. But how do you think to get in at the gate, for you 
 may find some difficulty there ? 
 
 IGNOR. As other good people do, said he. 
 CHR. But what have you to show at that gate, that may 
 cause that the gate should be opened to you ? 
 
 IGNOR. I know my Lord's will, and I have 
 
 keen a OO( * ^ ver * P av everv man h* 8 own; I 
 pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have 
 left my country for whither I am going. 
 
 CHR. But thou earnest not in at the Wicket-Gate that is 
 at the head of this way; thou earnest in hither through that 
 same crooked lane, and therefore I fear, however thou mayest 
 think of thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, thou 
 wilt have laid to thy charge that thou art a thief and a rob- 
 ber, instead of getting admittance into the city. 
 
 IGNOR. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me; I know 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 127 
 
 you not: be content to follow the religion of your country, 
 and I will follow the religion of mine. I hope 
 
 He saith to every 
 
 one that he is a all will be well. And as for the gate that you 
 talk of, all the world knows that that is a great 
 
 way off of our country. I cannot think that any man in all 
 
 our parts doth so much as know the way to it; nor need they 
 
 matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a 
 
 fine pleasant green lane, that comes down from our country 
 
 the next way into it. 
 
 When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own 
 
 conceit, he said to Hopeful whisperingly, There is more hopes 
 of a fool than of him. And said moreover, 
 "When he that is a fool walketh by the way, 
 his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every 
 
 one that he is a fool." What, shall we talk further with 
 him? or outgo him at present? and so leave 
 
 " O a/ooi arrv U him to think f wh at he hath heard already; 
 and then stop again for him afterwards, and 
 
 see if by degrees we can do any good of him ? Then said 
 
 Hopeful 
 
 Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
 
 On what is said, and let him not refuse 
 
 Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain 
 
 Still ignorant of what's the chiefest gain. 
 
 God saith, Those that no understanding have, 
 
 (Although he made them) them he will not save. 
 
 HOPE. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say 
 all to him at once; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk 
 to him anon, even as he is able to bear it. 
 
 So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now 
 
 when they had passed him a little way, they entered into a 
 
 very dark lane, where they met a man whom 
 
 nv' T^ 45 ' 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. Now good Christian began 
 
128 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 to tremble, and so did Hopeful his companion: Yet as the 
 
 devils led away the man, Christian looked to see if he knew 
 
 him, and he thought it might be one Turn-away that dwelt 
 
 in the town of Apostasy. But he did hot per- 
 
 The destruction . . 
 
 of one fectly see his race, for he did hang his head like 
 
 Turn-away. *.\ t *i 4- ' * J T> * u 
 
 a thier that is round: But being gone past, 
 Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back a paper 
 with this inscription, " Wan ton professor, and damnable 
 apostate." Then said Christian to his fellow, 
 Now I call to remembrance that which was told 
 < LiSfaith. me f a thing that happened to a good man 
 
 hereabout. The name of the man was Little- 
 faith, but a good man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere. 
 The thing was this: at the entering in of this passage there 
 conies down from Broadway Gate a lane called 
 Dlan' s G Lane. Deadman's Lane; so called, because of the mur- 
 ders that are commonly done there. And this 
 Little-faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to 
 sit down there and slept. Now there happened, at that time, 
 to come down that lane from Broadway Gate, three sturdy 
 rogues, and their names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, and 
 Guilt (three brothers), and they espying Little-faith where he 
 was, came galloping up with speed: Now the good man was 
 just awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his 
 journey. So they came all up to him, and with threatening 
 language bid him stand. At this, Little-faith looked as white 
 as a clout, and had neither power to fight nor 
 robbed^ fly- Then said Faint-heart, Deliver thy purse; 
 
 Faint-heart, j^f. ne ma kmg no haste to do it (for he was 
 
 Mistrust ana 
 
 Guilt. loath to lose his money), Mistrust ran up to 
 
 him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, 
 
 hi s ey siiver?and pulled out thence a bag of silver. Then he cried 
 
 knocked him ^ Thieyes> thieveg J With that> Gui ] t> with a 
 
 great club that was in his hand, struck Little- 
 faith on the head, and with that blow felled him flat to the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 129 
 
 ground, where he lay bleeding as one that would bleed to 
 death. All this while the thieves stood by : But at last, they 
 hearing that some were upon the road, and fearing lest it 
 should be one Great-grace that dwells in the city of Good- 
 confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left 
 this good man to shift for himself. Now after a while, Lit- 
 tle-faith came to himself, and getting up, made shift to 
 scramble on his way. This was the story. 
 
 HOPE. But did they take from him all that ever he had ? 
 CHR. No: The place where his jewels were, they never 
 ransacked, so those he kept still; but, as I was told, the good 
 Little-faith man was much afflicted for his loss, for the 
 
 toT* hlS ^ Si 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. Nay, if I was not misin- 
 formed, he was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself 
 alive, for his jewels he might not sell; but 
 forced to beg to beg, and do what he could, he went (as 
 
 his journey's end. , . , , 111,1 
 
 we say) with many a hungry belly the most 
 part of the rest of the way. 
 
 HOPE. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his 
 certificate, by which he was to receive his admittance at the 
 Celestial Gate ? 
 
 CHR. 'Tis a wonder, but they got not that: though they 
 missed it not through any good cunning of his; 
 belt 'things by *his f r he, being dismayed with their coming upon 
 TtS!T*U.' him ' had neither power nor skill to hide any- 
 thing; so it was more by good providence than 
 by his endeavor, that they missed of that good thing. 
 
 HOPE. But it must needs be a comfort to him that they 
 got not this jewel from him. 
 
 CHR. It might have been good comfort to him, had he 
 used it as he should; but they that told me the story said, 
 That he made but little use of it all the rest of the way, and 
 
130 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 that because of the dismay that he had in their 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 com- 
 forted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come 
 again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow up all. 
 
 HOPE. Alas, poor man ! this could not but 
 
 bybot^ be a S reat S rief unto him - 
 
 CHR. Grief! Ay, a grief indeed. Would 
 it not have been so to any of us, had we been used as he, 
 to be robbed and wounded too, and that in a strange 
 place, as he was ? 'Tis a wonder he did not die with grief, 
 poor heart! I was told that he scattered almost all the 
 rest of the way with nothing but doleful and bitter com- 
 plaints; 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 life. 
 
 HOPE. But 'tis 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 should he pawn them? or to 
 r , . .. whom should he sell them ? In all that country 
 
 Lnristian 
 
 snubbeth his where he was robbed, his jewels were not ac- 
 
 jeuow for 
 
 unadvised counted of, nor did he want that relief which 
 
 could from thence be administered to him. Be- 
 sides, had his jewels been missing at the gate of the Celestial 
 City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded 
 from an inheritance there; and that would have been worse 
 to him than the appearance and villainy of ten thousand 
 thieves. 
 
 HOPE. Why art thou so tart, my brother ? Esau sold his 
 birthright, and that for a mess of pottage, and 
 that birthright was his greatest jewel; and if 
 he, why might not Little-faith do so too ? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 131 
 
 CHR. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many 
 
 besides, and by so doing, exclude themselves from the chief 
 
 blessing, as also that caitiff did. But you must 
 
 A discourse . . * 
 
 about Emu and put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-faith, 
 
 Little-faith. , , , . , 
 
 and also betwixt their estates. Esau s birth- 
 right was typical, but Little-faith's jewels were not so. Esau's 
 belly was his god, but Little-faith's belly was not so. Esau's 
 w r ant lay in his fleshly appetite; Little-faith's did not so. Be- 
 sides, Esau could see no further than to the 
 
 Esau was ruled 
 
 by his lusts. fulfilling of his lusts: "For I am at the point to 
 
 Gen. xxv. 32. ,. ,, . . , . . . ... ; . . 
 
 die, said he, and what good will this birth- 
 right do me ? " But Little-faith, though it was his lot to have 
 but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from such ex- 
 travagances, and made to see and prize his jewels more than 
 
 to sell them, as Esau did his birthright. You 
 had U faiT read not anywhere that Esau had faith, no, 
 
 not so much as a little; therefore no marvel, if 
 where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that man where 
 no faith is to resist) , if he sells his birthright, and his soul and 
 all, and that to the devil of hell; for it is with such, as it is 
 
 with the ass, who in her occasions cannot be 
 
 Jer. n. 24. 
 
 turned away. When their minds are set upon 
 their lusts, they will have them whatever they cost. But 
 Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was on things 
 
 divine; his livelihood was upon things that 
 
 Little-faith could 
 
 not live upon were spiritual, and from above: Therefore to 
 
 Esau's pottage. , , . . , , . 
 
 what end should he that is of such a temper 
 sell his jewels (had there been any that would have bought 
 them) to fill his mind with empty things ? Will a man give 
 a penny to fill his belly with hay? or can you persuade the 
 
 turtle-dove to live upon carrion, like the crow ? 
 betwe^nThl^rtle- Though faithless ones can, for carnal lusts, 
 do^and the pawil> O r mortgage, or sell what they have, and 
 
 themselves outright to boot; yet they that have 
 faith, saving faith, though but a little of it, cannot do so. 
 Here, therefore, my brother, is thy mistake. 
 
132 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 HOPE. I acknowledge it; but yet your severe reflection 
 had almost made me angry. 
 
 CHR. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the birds 
 that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in un- 
 trodden paths with the shell upon their heads; but pass by 
 that, and consider the matter under debate, and all shall be 
 well betwixt thee and me. 
 
 HOPE. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am per- 
 suaded in my heart, are but a company of cowards; would 
 they have run else., think you, as they did, at 
 Swaggers the n i se f one that was coming on the road ? 
 
 Why did not Little-faith pluck up a greater 
 heart? He might, methinks, have stood one brush with 
 them, and have yielded when there had been no remedy. 
 
 CHR. That they are cowards, many have said, but few 
 have found it so in the time of trial. As for a great heart, 
 No great heart Little-faith had none; and I perceive by thee, 
 far God where mv brother, hadst thou been the man con- 
 
 there is but little 
 
 faith. cerned, thou art but for a brush, and then to 
 
 We have more yield. And verily, since this is the height of 
 
 courage when out , , . , . 
 
 thanwhen-we thy stomach now they are at a distance from 
 us, should they appear to thee, as they did to 
 
 him, they might put thee to second thoughts. 
 
 But consider again, they are but journeymen thieves; they 
 
 serve under the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, 
 will come in to their aid himself, and his voice 
 is as the roaring of a lion. I myself have been 
 
 his^wT tdh engaged as this Little-faith was, and I found it 
 
 experience in a terrible thing. These three villains set upon 
 
 this case. . . 
 
 me, and I beginning like a Christian to resist, 
 they gave but a call, and in came their master: I would, as 
 the saying is, have given my life for a penny; but that, 
 as God would have it, I was clothed with armor of proof. 
 Ay, and yet though I was so harnessed, I found it hard 
 work to quk myself like a man; no man can tell what in 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 133 
 
 that combat attends us, but he that hath been in the battle 
 himself. 
 
 HOPE. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but 
 suppose that one Great-grace was in the way. 
 
 CHR. True, they have often fled, both they and their 
 master, when Great-grace hath but appeared; and no mar- 
 vel, for he is the King's champion. But I trow 
 you will put some difference between Little- 
 
 cnQinpion. v 
 
 faith and the King's champion. All the King's 
 subjects are not his champions, nor can they, when tried, do 
 such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that a little child 
 should handle Goliath as David did ? or that there should 
 be the strength of an ox in a wren ? Some are strong, some 
 are weak; some have great faith, some have little; this man 
 was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the walls. 
 
 HOPE. I would it had been Great-grace, for their sakes. 
 
 CHR. If it had been he, he might have had his hands full: 
 For I must tell you, That though Great-grace is excellent 
 good at his weapons, and has and can, so long as he keeps 
 them at sword's point, do well enough with them; yet if they 
 get within him, even Faint-heart, 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, 
 though champions in their day, were forced to bestir them 
 when by these assaulted; and yet, notwithstanding, they had 
 their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter upon a time 
 would go try what he could do; but, though some do say of 
 him that he is the prince of the apostles, they handled him 
 so, that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. 
 
134 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Besides, their king is at their whistle, he is never out of 
 hearing; and if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if 
 
 possible, comes in to help them: and of him it 
 Leviathan's is said, "The sword of him that layeth at him 
 
 cannot hold the spear, the dart, nor the haber- 
 geon: he esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. 
 The arrow cannot make him fly; slingstones are turned with 
 him into stubble, darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth 
 at the shaking of a spear." What can a man do in this case ? 
 'Tis true, if a man could at every turn have Job's horse, and 
 had skill and courage to ride him, he might do notable things: 
 
 for "his neck is clothed with thunder, he will 
 ThelTcdient ' not be afraid as the grasshopper, the glory of 
 Tob'sho" in his nostrils is terrible, he paweth in the valley, 
 
 rejoiceth in his strength, and goeth out to meet 
 the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, 
 neither turneth back from the sword. The quiver rattleth 
 against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swallow- 
 eth the ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth he 
 that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the 
 trumpets, Ha, ha ! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the 
 thundering of the captains, and the shoutings." 
 
 But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire 
 to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could do better, 
 when we hear of others that they have been foiled, nor be 
 tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood, for such com- 
 monly come by the worst when tried. Witness Peter, o; 
 whom I made mention before. He would swagger, Ay, he 
 would: He would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do 
 better, and stand more for his Master, than all men; Bub 
 who so foiled, and run down by these villains, as he ? 
 
 When therefore we hear that such robberies are done on 
 the King's highway, two things become us to do: first to gci 
 out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield with us; FOJ 
 it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Levia 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 135 
 
 than could not make him yield. For indeed, if that be 
 
 wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore he that had 
 
 skill, hath said, "Above all, take the shield 
 
 of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench 
 
 all the fiery darts of the wicked." 
 
 'Tis good also that we desire of the King a convoy, yea 
 9 Tis good to have that ne w ^ & w ith us himself. This made 
 a convoy, David rejoice when in the Valley of the Shadow 
 
 Exod. xxxiii. is. o f Death; and Moses was rather for dying 
 Ps. Hi. 5-8. where he stood, than to go one step without his 
 God. O my brother, if he will but go along 
 with us, what need we be afraid of ten thou- 
 sands that shall set themselves against us, but without him, 
 "the proud helpers fall under the slain." 
 
 I for my part have been in the fray before now, and though 
 (through the goodness of him that is best) I am as you see 
 alive; yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Glad shall I be, 
 if I meet w y ith no more such brunts, though I fear we are 
 not got beyond all danger. However, since the lion and 
 the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also 
 deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. Then sang 
 Christian 
 
 Poor Little-faith ! Hast been among the thieves ? 
 Wast robb'd ? Remember this : 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 
 
 way ay an a wa y P u t itself into their way. and seemed 
 
 withal to lie as straight as the way which they 
 
 should go: and here they knew not which of the two to 
 take, for both seemed straight before them; 
 therefore here they stood still to consider. And 
 as they were thinking about the way, behold a 
 
 man black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came 
 
136 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 to them and asked them, Why they stood there? They an- 
 swered, They were going to the Celestial City, but knew not 
 w r hich of these ways to take. Follow me, said the rnan, it is 
 thither that I am going. So they followed him 
 
 Christian and 
 
 his fellow in the way that but now came into the road, 
 
 which by degrees turned, and turned them so 
 from the City that they desired to go to, that in little time 
 their faces were turned away from it; yet they followed him. 
 But by and by, before they were aware, he led them both 
 
 within the compass of a net, in which they 
 i^ane. ***" were botn so entangled that they knew not 
 
 what to do ; and with that, the white robe fell 
 off the black man's back; then they saw where they were. 
 Wherefore there they lay crying some time, for they could 
 not get themselves out. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see 
 
 myself in an error. Did not the Shepherds bid 
 the^ conditions, us beware of the flatterers? As is the saying 
 Prov xxix 5 ^ ^ ne w i se m an, so we have found it this day : 
 
 "A man that flattereth his neighbor spreadeth 
 a net for his feet." 
 
 HOPE. They also gave us a note of directions about the 
 way, for our more sure finding thereof; but therein we have 
 also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the 
 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." Thus they lay bewailing themselves in 
 the net. At last they espied a Shining One coming towards 
 
 them, with a whip of small cord in his hand. 
 
 When he was come to the place where they 
 hi^hanf^ in were he asked them whence they came, and 
 
 what they did there. They told him, That they 
 were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their 
 way by a black man, clothed in white, who bid us, said they, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 137 
 
 follow him; for he was going thither too. Then said he with 
 the whip, It is Flatterer, a false apostle, that 
 
 Prov. xxix. 5. 
 
 Dan. xi. 32. hath transformed himself into an angel of light. 
 
 2 Cor. xi. 13, 14. o , , , . , 
 
 So he rent the net, and let the men out. 
 Then said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in 
 your way again; so he led them back to the way, which they 
 had left to follow the Flatterer. Then he asked 
 examined and them saying, Where did you lie the last night ? 
 They said, With the Shepherds upon the Delec- 
 table Mountains. He asked them then, If they 
 had not of those Shepherds a note of direction for the way ? 
 They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when you were 
 at a stand, pluck out and read your note ? They answered, 
 No. He asked them, Why? They said they forgot. He 
 . asked them moreoyer, If the Shepherds did not 
 
 fine spoken. bid them beware of the Flatterer ? They an- 
 swered, Yes; but we did not imagine, said they, 
 that this fine-spoken man had been he. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie 
 
 down; which when they did, he chastised them sore, to teach 
 
 them the good way wherein they should walk; 
 
 whipped and and as he chastised them he said, "As many as 
 
 way I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous there- 
 
 fakJTri?' fore and repent." This done, he bids them go 
 
 ^Rev^lii 19 on their wav > and take good heed to the other 
 
 directions of the Shepherds. So they thanked 
 
 him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way, 
 
 singing 
 
 Come hither, you that walk along the way; 
 
 See how the pilgrims fare, that go astray! 
 
 They catched are in an entangling net, 
 
 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget: 
 
 'Tis true, they rescued were, but yet you see 
 
 They're scourged to boot: Let this your caution be. 
 
 Now after a while, they perceived afar off, one coming 
 
138 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 softly and alone all along the highway to meet them. Then 
 said Christian to his fellow, Yonder is a man with his back 
 towards Zion, and he is coming to meet us. 
 
 HOPE. I see him; let us take heed to ourselves now, lest 
 he should prove a Flatterer also. So he drew 
 nearer and nearer, and at last came up unto 
 them. His name was Atheist, and he asked 
 them whither they were going. 
 
 CHR. We are going to the Mount Zion. 
 
 Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter. 
 at e th"m ks CHR - What is the meaning of your laughter? 
 
 ATHEIST. I laugh to see what ignorant per- 
 sons you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey; and 
 yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains. 
 CHR. Why man? Do you think we shall 
 not be received? _ 
 
 ATHEIST. Received ! There is no such place 
 as you dream of, in all this world. 
 
 CHR. But there is in the world to come. 
 ATHEIST. When I was at home in mine own country, I 
 heard as you now affirm, and, from that hear- 
 EccieTz is m S wen t ou t 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. 
 
 CHR. We have both heard and believe that there is such 
 a place to be found. 
 
 ATHEIST. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not 
 come thus far to seek: But finding none (and 
 yet I should, had there been such a place to be 
 found, for I have gone to seek it farther than 
 you), I am going back again, and will seek to 
 refresh myself with the things that I then cast away, for 
 hopes of that which I now see is not. 
 
 CHR - Then said Christian to Hopeful his 
 fellow, Is it true which this man hath said ? 
 HOPE. Take heed, he is one of the Flatterers; remem- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 139 
 
 her what it hath cost us once already for our hearken- 
 ing to such kind of fellows. What ! no Mount Zion ? Did 
 
 Ho efuVs we not see fr m ^6 Delectable Mountains 
 
 gracious answer, the gate of the City ? Also, are we not now 
 2 Cor. v. 7. to walk by faith? Let us go on, said Hopeful, 
 
 A remembrance i , ,1 ii ii i _ i 
 
 of former lest the man with the whip overtake us again. 
 
 a h h s dp7gnst s You should have taught me that lesson, which 
 
 I will round you in the ears withal: "Cease, my 
 
 temptations. 
 
 Prov. xix. 27. son to hear the instruction that causeth to err 
 
 Heb. x. 39. 
 
 from the words of knowledge. I say, my 
 brother, cease to hear him, and let us believe to the saving of 
 the soul. 
 
 CHR. My brother, I did not put the question to thee for 
 that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove 
 
 thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the hon- 
 honest heart" esty of thy heart. As for this man, I know 
 i John U 21 that he is blinded by the god of this world. 
 
 Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have 
 belief of the truth, and "no lie is of the truth." 
 
 HOPE. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So 
 they turned away from the man; and he, laughing at them, 
 went his way. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came 
 into a certain country whose air naturally tended to make 
 
 one drowsy, if he came a stranger into it. And 
 to thelSichanted here Hopeful began to be very dull and 
 
 heavy of sleep; wherefore he said unto Chris- 
 Hopeful begins tian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy 
 
 to be drowsy. 
 
 that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes; let us 
 lie down here and take one nap. 
 
 CHR. By no means, said the other, lest 
 him S awake! epS sleeping we never awake more. 
 
 HOPE. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet 
 to the laboring man; we may be refreshed if we take a 
 nap. 
 
 CHR. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds 
 
140 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground? He meant by 
 I Thus 6 that, that we should beware of sleeping; 
 
 Wherefore let us not sleep, as do others; but 
 let us watch, and be sober. 
 
 HOPE. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been 
 
 here alone, I had, by sleeping, run the danger 
 
 He is thankful. , 
 
 of death. I see it is true that the wise man 
 saith, "Two are better than one." Hitherto 
 
 hath thy company been my mercy, "and thou shalt have a 
 
 good reward for thy labor." 
 
 CHR. Now then, said Christian, to prevent 
 
 drowsiness they drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good 
 
 discourse. 
 
 Good discourse HOPE. With all my heart, said the other. 
 
 P reven ! s CHR. Where shall we begin ? 
 
 drowsiness. 
 
 HOPE. Where God began with us. But do 
 you begin, if you please. 
 
 CHR. I will sing you first this song 
 
 The Dreamers' When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, 
 And hear how these two pilgrims talk together: 
 Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise, 
 Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb'ring eyes. 
 Saints' fellowship, if it be managed well, 
 Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. 
 
 CHR. Then Christian began and said, I will 
 g ask you a question: How came you to think at 
 ^ rst * doing what you do now ? 
 
 HOPE. Do you mean, How came I at first 
 to look after the good of my soul ? 
 CHR. Yes, that is my meaning. 
 
 HOPE. I continued a great while in the delight of those 
 things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which, I 
 believe now, would have (had I continued in them still) 
 drowned me in perdition and destruction. 
 CHR. What things were they? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 141 
 
 HOPE. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I 
 Ho eful's life delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, 
 swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-break- 
 ing, and what not, that tended to destroy the 
 soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering of 
 things that are divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also 
 of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for 
 
 fjf fTa.* 1 "*' his faith and od livin S in Vanity Fair, that 
 "the end of these things is death." And that 
 for these things' sake the wrath of God cometh upon the 
 children of disobedience. 
 
 CHR. And did you presently fall under the power of this 
 conviction ? 
 
 HOPE. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil 
 of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the 
 
 Hopeful at first . . 
 
 shuts his eyes commission or it; but endeavored, when my 
 mind at first began to be shaken with the Word, 
 to shut mine eyes against the light thereof. 
 
 CHR. But what was the cause of your carrying of it 
 thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon 
 you? 
 
 HOPE. The causes were: 1. I was ignorant that this was 
 the work of God upon me. I never thought that by awak- 
 enings for sin God at first begins the conversion 
 
 of a sinner * 2 - Sin Was y et vei T sweet to m Y 
 
 flesh, and I was loath to leave it. 3.1 could not 
 tell how to part with mine old companions, their presence 
 and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in 
 which convictions were upon me were such troublesome and 
 such heart-affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no not 
 so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart. 
 
 CHR. Then as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your 
 trouble ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, verily; but it would come into my mind again, 
 and then I should be as bad, nay worse, than I was before. 
 
142 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind 
 again ? 
 
 HOPE. Many things; as: 
 
 1. If I did but meet a good man in the 
 
 When he had 
 
 lost his sense of streets ; or, 
 
 * If I have he *rd any read in the Bible; or, 
 3. If mine head did begin to ache; or, 
 
 4. If I were told that some of my neighbors were sick; or, 
 
 5. If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or, 
 
 6. If I thought of dying myself; or, 
 
 7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others ; 
 
 8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must 
 quickly come to judgment. 
 
 CIIR. And could you at any time with ease get off the 
 guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon you ? 
 
 HOPE. No, not latterly, for then they got faster hold of 
 my conscience; and then, if I did but think of going back to 
 sin (though my mind was turned against it), it would be 
 double torment to me. 
 
 CHR. And how did you do then ? 
 
 When he could HOPE. I thought I must endeavor to mend 
 no longer shake mv life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be 
 
 ojf his guilt by J 
 
 sinful courses, damned. 
 
 endeavors to CHR. And did you endeavor to mend ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, 
 but sinful company too; and betook me to religious duties, as 
 praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my 
 neighbors, etc. These things did I, with many others, too 
 much here to relate. 
 
 CHR. And did you think yourself well then ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, for a while; but at the last my 
 trouble came tumbling upon me again, and 
 that over the neck of all my reformation. 
 CHR. How came that about, since you were now reformed ? 
 HOPE. There were several things brought it upon me, 
 especially such sayings as these: "All our righteousnesses are 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 143 
 
 as filthy rags." "By the works of the law no man shall be 
 justified." "When you have done all things, 
 
 Isa. Ixiv. 6. i i 
 
 say, We are unprofitable ' : with many more 
 Luke xvii. 20. such like. From whence I began to reason with 
 
 Reformation at ii.i TI ?? i /?iii 
 
 last could not myself thus: If all my righteousnesses are filthy 
 
 help, and why. jf by 
 
 justified; and if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofit- 
 
 able, then 'tis but a folly to think of heaven by 
 
 debtor by the law the law r . I further thought thus: If a man runs 
 
 an 100 into the shopkeeper's debt, and after 
 
 that shall pay for all that he shall fetch; yet if his old debt 
 
 stand still in the book uncrossed, for that the shopkeeper may 
 
 sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the debt. 
 
 CHR. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself ? 
 
 HOPE. Why, I thought thus with myself: I have by my 
 sins run a great way into God's Book, and that my now re- 
 forming will not pay off that score; therefore I should think 
 still under all my present amendments, But how shall I be 
 freed from that damnation that I brought myself in danger 
 of by my former transgressions ? 
 
 CHR. A very good application : but pray go on. 
 
 HOPE. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since 
 
 my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into the best 
 
 of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mix- 
 
 M^sThl^t ing itself with the best of that I do; so that now 
 
 Km*' trOHbled * am f rced to conclude, that notwithstanding 
 
 my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I 
 
 have committed sin enough in one duty to send me to hell, 
 
 though my former life had been faultless. 
 
 CHR. And what did you do then ? 
 
 HOPE. Do ! I could not tell what to do, till I brake my 
 mind to Faithful, for he and I were well ac- 
 
 This made him 
 
 break his mind quainted. And he told me, that unless I could 
 
 to Faithful, who , . . , i 
 
 told him the way obtain the righteousness ot a man that never 
 had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the right- 
 eousness of the world could save me. 
 
144 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. And did you think he spake true? 
 
 HOPE. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied 
 with mine own amendments, I had called him fool for his 
 pains; but now, since I see my own infirmity, and the sin 
 that cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced to 
 be of his opinion. 
 
 " CHR. But did you think, when at first he suggested it to 
 you, that there was such a man to be found, of whom it might 
 justly be said, That he never committed sin ? 
 
 HOPE. I must confess the words at first 
 
 At which 
 
 he started sounded strangely; but after a little more 
 
 talk and company with him, I had full con- 
 viction about it. 
 
 CHR. And did you ask him what man this was, and how 
 you must be justified by him ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord 
 Rmilfiv. Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the 
 
 i Pet i Most High. And thus, said he, you must be 
 
 justified by him, even by trusting to what he 
 hath done by himself in the days of his flesh, and suffered 
 when he did hang on the tree. I asked him further, How 
 that man's righteousness could be of that effi- 
 cacy, to justify another before God ? And he 
 
 told me > He was the mi ht y God > and did what 
 
 he did, and died the death also, not for himself, 
 but for me; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of them 
 should be imputed, if I believed on him. 
 CHR. And what did you do then ? 
 
 HOPE. I made my objections against my 
 acceptation believing, for that I thought he was not willing 
 
 Matt xi 28 t0 SaVC me> 
 
 CHR. And what said Faithful to you then ? 
 
 He is better TT TT . . 
 
 instructed. HOPE. He bade me go to him and see. 
 
 Matt xxiv 35 Then I said it was presumption: he said, No; 
 
 for I was invited to come. Then he gave 
 
 me a book of Jesus his inditing, to encourage me the more 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 145 
 
 freely to come; and he said concerning that book, that 
 
 every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and 
 
 earth. Then I asked him, What I must do when I came? 
 
 and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, 
 
 Dan XC vi. 6 w. with a11 m y heart and soul the Father to 
 reveal him to me. Then I asked him further, 
 How I must make my supplication to him ? And he said, 
 Go, and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where 
 he sits all the year long, to give pardon and 
 Exodfxxv. 22. forgiveness to them that come. I told him that 
 ^wn'v'ifsQ ^ knew not what to say when I came. And he 
 bid me say to this effect: God be merciful to me 
 a si nner > an d make me to know and believe in 
 Jesus Christ; for I see that if his righteousnevss 
 had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, I am 
 utterly cast away; Lord, I have heard that thou art a merci- 
 ful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should 
 be the Saviour of the world; and moreover, that thou art 
 willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and 
 I am a sinner indeed), Lord, take therefore this opportunity, 
 and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through 
 thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen. 
 
 CHR. And did you do as you were bidden? 
 
 HOPE. Yes; over, and over, and over. 
 
 tic prays. 
 
 CHR. And did the Father reveal his Son to you ? 
 HOPE. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, 
 nor fifth, no, nor at the sixth time neither. 
 CHR. What did you do then ? 
 HOPE. What ! why I could not tell what to do. 
 CHR. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, an hundred times, twice told. 
 
 "a^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 of 
 this Christ, all the world could not save me; and therefore 
 thought I with myself, If I leave off, I die; and I can but 
 
146 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 die at the throne of grace. And withal, this came into 
 He durst not m ^ mind "If it tarry, wait for it, because it 
 leave off praying, w ill surely come, and will not tarrv." So I 
 
 and why. . . 
 
 continued praying until the Father showed 
 
 Hab. ii. 3. , . ~ 
 
 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 mine understanding; and thus it was: One day I 
 
 Eh i is 19 was verv ^d, I think sadder than at any one 
 
 time in my life, and this sadness was through a 
 
 LihTist is 
 
 revealed to him, iresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my 
 
 and how. . , T , , , . 
 
 sins. And as I was then looking for nothing 
 but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my 
 
 soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down 
 
 from heaven upon me, and saying, "Believe on the Lord 
 
 Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 
 
 But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner: and 
 
 he answered, "My grace is sufficient for thee." Then I said, 
 But, Lord, what is believing ? And then I saw 
 
 2 Cor. xn. 9. 
 
 from that saying ["He that cometh to me shall 
 
 never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall 
 never thirst"], that believing and coming was all one; and 
 that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections 
 after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ. Then 
 the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, But, Lord, 
 may such a great sinner as I am be indeed accepted of thee, 
 John vi 37 anc * ^ e save d by thee ? And I heard him say, 
 
 "And him that cometh to me I will in no wise 
 cast out." Then I said, But how, Lord, must I consider of 
 thee in my coming to thee, that my faith may be placed 
 
 aright upon thee ? Then he said, "Christ Jesus 
 
 1 Tim. i. 15. . e 
 
 came into the world to save sinners. He is 
 
 the end of the law for righteousness to every 
 
 one that believes." "He died for our sins, and rose again 
 
 for our justification : He loved us and washed us from our sins 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 147 
 
 in his own blood." "He is Mediator" between God and us. 
 "He ever liveth to make intercession for us." 
 From all which I gathered, that I must look 
 
 Heb. vii. 24, 25. . , . . , . , - 
 
 for righteousness in his person, and tor sat^ 
 isfaction for my sins by his blood; that what he did in obedi- 
 ence to his Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty 
 thereof, was not for himself, but for him that will accept it 
 for his salvation, and be thankful. And now was my heart 
 full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running 
 over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ. 
 
 CHR. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed; 
 but tell me particularly what effect this had upon your spirit. 
 
 HOPE. It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding 
 all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. 
 It made me see that God the Father, though he be just, can 
 justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed 
 of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the 
 sense of mine own \gnorance; for there never came thought 
 into mine heart before now, that showed me so the beauty of 
 Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do 
 something for the honor and glory of the name of the Lord 
 Jesus. Yea, I thought, that had I now a thousand gallons of 
 blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord 
 Jesus. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back and 
 saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. 
 Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth 
 behind. 
 
 CHR. Ay, ay, I see him; he careth not for our company. 
 
 HOPE. But I trow, it would not have hurt him, had he 
 kept pace with us hitherto. 
 
 CHR. That's 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. 
 
148 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Then Christian said to him, Come away, man, why 
 do you stay so behind? 
 
 Young Ignorance J J 
 
 comes up again. loNOR. I take my pleasure in walking alone, 
 even more a great deal than in company, un- 
 less I like it the better. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell 
 you he cared not for our company ? But, however, said he, 
 come up, and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. 
 Then, directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how 
 do you ? How stands it between God and your soul now ? 
 
 IGNOR. I hope well; for I am always full of 
 
 Ignorance s , . . 
 
 hope, and the good motions, that co me into my mind, to 
 
 ground of it. T 11 
 
 comfort me as I walk. 
 CHR. What good motions ? Pray tell us. 
 IGNOR. Why, I think of God and heaven. 
 CHR. So do the devils and damned souls. 
 IGNOR. But I think of them, and desire them. 
 
 CHR. So do many that are never like to 
 come there. "The soul of the sluggard desires, 
 and hath nothing." 
 
 IGNOR. But I think of them, and leave all for them. 
 CHR. That I doubt, for leaving of all is an hard matter; 
 yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or 
 by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God 
 and heaven? 
 
 IGNOR. My heart tells me so. 
 
 CHR. The wise man says, "He that trusts 
 
 Prov. xxviii. 26. ,, 
 
 his own heart is a tool. 
 
 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 yet he has no ground to hope. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 149 
 
 IGNOR. But my heart and life agree together, and there- 
 fore 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 ! 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 has good thoughts, 
 and is not that a good life that is according to God's com- 
 mandments ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, 
 and that is a good life that is according to God's command- 
 ments; but it is one thing indeed to have these, and another 
 thing only to think so. 
 
 IGNOR. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a life 
 according to God's commandments ? 
 
 CHR. There are good thoughts of divers kinds, some 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. 
 
 IGNOR. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with 
 the Word of God ? 
 
 CHR. When we pass the same judgment upon ourselves 
 
 which the Word passes. To explain myself: The Word of 
 
 God saith of persons in a natural condition, 
 
 Rom. in. . . 
 
 There is none righteous, there is none that 
 doth good." It saith also, "That every imagi- 
 nation of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually." 
 And again, "The imagination of man's heart is evil from his 
 youth." Now then, when we think thus of ourselves, having 
 sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones, because ac- 
 cording to the Word of God. 
 
 IGNOR. I will never believe that my heart is thus bad. 
 
150 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought con- 
 cerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on: As the Word 
 passeth a judgment upon our Heart, so it passeth a judgment 
 upon our Ways; and when OUR thoughts of our Hearts and 
 Wav,s 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. It saith they are 
 
 naturally out of the good way, that thev have 
 
 rS. CXXV. O. 
 
 Prov. ii. 15. not known it. Now when a man thus thinketh 
 of his ways, I say when he doth sensibly, and 
 with heart-humiliation thus think, then hath he good thoughts 
 of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the 
 judgment of the Word of God. 
 
 IGNOR. What are good thoughts concerning God ? 
 
 CHR. Even (as I have said concerning ourselves) when 
 our thoughts of God do agree with what the Word saith of 
 him. And that is, when we think of his being and attributes 
 as the Word hath taught : of which I cannot now discourse at 
 large. But to speak of him with reference to us, Then we have 
 right thoughts of God, when we think that he knows us better 
 than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us, when and 
 where we can see none in ourselves; when \ve think he knows 
 our inmost thoughts, and that our heart with all its depth is 
 always open unto his eyes: Also when we think that all our 
 righteousness stinks in his nostrils, and that therefore he 
 cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confidence, 
 even in all our best performances. 
 
 IGNOR. Do you think that I am such a fool, as to think 
 God can see no further than I ? or, that I would come to God 
 in the best of my performances ? 
 
 CHR. Why, how dost thou think in this matter? 
 
 IGNOR. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ 
 for justification. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 151 
 
 CHR. How ! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou 
 seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither seest thy original 
 nor actual infirmities; but hast such an opinion of thyself, 
 and of what thou doest, as plainly renders thee to be one that 
 did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to 
 justify thee before God: How then dost thou say, I believe 
 in Christ ? 
 
 IGNOR. I believe well enough for all that. 
 
 CHR. How dost thou believe? 
 
 IGNOR. I believe that Christ died for sinners, and that I 
 shall be justified before God from the curse, through his gra- 
 cious acceptance of my obedience to his law: 
 'lgno f mme f Or tnus Christ makes my duties that are reli- 
 gious, acceptable to his Father by virtue of his 
 merits; and so shall I be justified. 
 
 CHR. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith. 
 
 1. Thou belie vest with a fantastical faith, for this faith is 
 nowhere described in the Word. 
 
 2. Thou believest with a false faith, because it taketh jus- 
 tification from the personal righteousness of Christ, and ap- 
 plies it to thy own. 
 
 3. Thy faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, 
 but of thy actions; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, 
 which is false. 
 
 4. Therefore this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave 
 thee under wrath in the day of God Almighty; for true justi- 
 fying faith puts the soul (as sensible of its lost condition by 
 the law) upon flying for refuge unto Christ's righteousness 
 (which righteousness of his, is not an act of grace, by which 
 he maketh for justification thy obedience accepted with God, 
 but his personal obedience to the law in doing and suffering 
 for us, what that required at our hands) This righteousness, 
 I say, true faith accepteth; under the skirt of which, the soul 
 being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before God, 
 it is accepted, and acquit from condemnation. 
 
152 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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. Ig- 
 norant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as 
 ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from 
 the heavy wrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the 
 true effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, 
 which is, to bow and win over the heart to God in Christ, to 
 love his name, his Word, ways, and people, and not as thou 
 ignorantly imaginest. 
 
 HOPE. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him 
 from heaven. 
 
 IGNOR. Wnat ! you are a man for revela- 
 jangles with tions. I believe that what both you, and all 
 the rest of you, say about that matter, is but 
 the fruit of distracted brains. 
 
 HOPE. Why, man ! Christ is so hid in God from the 
 natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he cannot by any 
 man be savingly known, unless God the Father reveals 
 him to them. 
 
 IGNOR. That is your faith, but not mine; yet 
 
 reproachfully mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, though 
 
 trwwfiwt I ka ve not in my head so many whimsies as you. 
 
 CHR. Give me leave to put in a word. You 
 
 ought not so slightly to speak of this matter; for this I will 
 
 boldly affirm (even as my good companion hath done), that 
 
 no man can know Jesus Christ but by the reve- 
 
 i Cor. xii. 3. lation of the Father;, yea, and faith too, by 
 
 which the soul layeth hold upon Christ (if it 
 
 be right) must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his 
 
 mighty power; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 153 
 
 Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine 
 own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus; and by his 
 righteousness, which is the righteousness of God (for he him- 
 self is God), thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. 
 
 IGNOR. You go so fast I cannot keep pace 
 brokl al u P . witl1 y u ' do vou S on before, I must stay 
 
 a while behind. 
 Then they said 
 
 Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be, 
 To slight good counsel, ten times given thee? 
 And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know 
 Ere long the evil of thy doing so: 
 Remember, man, in time; stoop, do not fear, 
 Good counsel taken well, saves; therefore hear: 
 But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be 
 The loser (Ignorance), I'll warrant thee. 
 
 Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow: 
 
 CHR. Well, come my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou 
 and I must walk by ourselves again. 
 
 So I saw in my dream, that they went on apace before, and 
 Ignorance he came hobbling after. Then said Christian to 
 his companion, It pities me much for this poor man, it will 
 certainly go ill with him at last. 
 
 HOPE. Alas, there are abundance in our town in his condi- 
 tion ; whole families, yea, whole streets (and that of pilgrims 
 too) ; and if there be so many in our parts, how many think 
 you must there be in the place where he was born ? 
 
 CHR. Indeed the Word saith, "He hath blinded their eyes, 
 lest they should see," etc. But now we are by ourselves, 
 what do you think of such men? Have they at no time, 
 think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fears that 
 their state is dangerous ? 
 
 HOPE. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for 
 you are the elder man. 
 
 CHR. Then I say sometimes (as I think) they may, but 
 
154 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such con- 
 victions tend to their good ; and therefore they do desperately 
 seek to stifle them, and presumptuously continue to flatter 
 themselves in the way of their own hearts. 
 
 HOPE. I do believe as you say, that fear tends much 
 The good iise to men's good, and to make them right, at 
 of fear. their beginning to go on pilgrimage. 
 
 Jobxxviii.98. CHR. Without all doubt it doth, if it be 
 
 Ps. cxi. 10. 
 
 Pro. i. 7. right; for so says the Word, "The fear of the 
 
 Chap. ix. 10. T i ,1 i e i t, 
 
 Lord is the beginning ol wisdom. 
 
 HOPE. How will you describe right fear? 
 CHR. True, or right fear, is discovered by three things: 
 
 1. By its rise; it is caused by saving convictions for sin. 
 
 2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salva- 
 tion. 
 
 3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a great rever- 
 ence of God, his Word, and ways, keeping it tender, and mak- 
 ing it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand or to the 
 left, to anything that may dishonor God, break its peace, 
 grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak reproachfully. 
 
 HOPE. Well said; I believe you have said the truth. Are 
 we now almost got past the Enchanted Ground ? 
 CHR. Why, are you weary of this discourse ? 
 HOPE. No verily, but that I would know where we are. 
 
 CHR. We have not now above two miles 
 personTstifle farther to go thereon. But let us return to our 
 matter. Now the ignorant know not that such 
 convictions that tend to put them in fear, are 
 for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them. 
 HOPE. How do they seek to stifle them? 
 CHR. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the 
 devil (though indeed they are wrought of God) ; and thinking 
 so, they resist them as things that directlv tend 
 
 2. In particular. 
 
 to their overthrow. 2. They also think that 
 these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith (when, alas for 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 155 
 
 them, poor men that they are, they have none at all), and 
 therefore they harden their hearts against them. 3. They 
 presume they ought not to fear, and therefore, in despite of 
 them, wax presumptuously confident. 4. They see that 
 these fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old 
 self-holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their 
 might. 
 
 HOPE. I know something of this myself; for before I knew 
 myself it was so with me. 
 
 CHR. Well, we will leave at this time our neighbor Igno- 
 rance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question. 
 
 HOPE. With all my heart; but you shall still begin. 
 
 CHR. Well then, did you not know about ten years 
 ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was 
 
 Talk about -, *i- J.T o 
 
 one Temporary, a forward man in religion then ? 
 Where he dwelt. HOPE. Know him ! yes ; he dwelt in Grace- 
 less, a town about two miles off of Honesty, and 
 he dwelt next door to one Turn-back. 
 
 CHR. Right; he dwelt under the same roof 
 Cowardly once. w * tn him. Well, that man was much awakened 
 once: I believe that then he had some sight 
 of his sins, and of the wages that was due thereto. 
 
 HOPE. I am of your mind, for (my house not being above 
 three miles from him) he would ofttimes come to me, and 
 that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not 
 altogether without hope of him; but one may see it is not 
 
 r ery one that cries, "Lord, Lord." 
 
 CHR. He told me once, that he was resolved to go on 
 pilgrimage, as we go now; but all of a sudden he grew ac- 
 quainted 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 you begin. 
 
 l 
 
156 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 HOPE. Well then, there are in my judgment four reasons 
 for it. 
 
 1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet 
 their minds are not changed: therefore, when the power of 
 
 guilt weareth awav, that which provoketh them 
 
 Reasons why . 
 
 towardly ones to be religious ceaseth. Wherefore they nat- 
 
 go back. ,, ... 
 
 urally turn to their own course again, even as 
 we see the dog that is sick of what he hath eaten, so long as 
 his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all: not that he 
 doth this of a free mind (if we may say a dog has a mind) but 
 because it troubleth his stomach; but now, when his sickness 
 is over, and so his stomach eased, his desires being not at all 
 alienate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all; 
 
 and so it is true which is written, "The dog is 
 
 2 Pet. n. 22. , r 
 
 turned to his own vomit again. Ihus I say, 
 being hot for heaven by virtue only of the sense and fear of 
 the torments of hell, as their sense of hell and the fears of 
 damnation chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and 
 salvation cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their 
 guilt and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and happiness 
 die, and they return to their course again. 
 
 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 men bringeth a snare." 
 So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven 
 so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet 
 when that terror is a little overj they betake themselves 
 to second thoughts; namely, that 'tis good to be wise, and 
 not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing 
 all; or at least, of bringing themselves into unavoidable 
 and unnecessary troubles : and so they fall in with the world 
 again. 
 
 3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in 
 their way; they are proud and haughty, and religion in their 
 eye is low and contemptible; therefore, when they have lost 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 157 
 
 their sense of hell and wrath to come, they return again to 
 their former course. 
 
 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them. 
 They like not to see their misery before they come into it; 
 though perhaps the sight of it first, if they loved that sight, 
 might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe. 
 But because they do, as I hinted before, even shun the 
 thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are 
 rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, 
 they harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways as 
 will harden them more and more. 
 
 CHR. You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of 
 all is, for want of a change in their mind and will. And there- 
 fore they are but like the felon that standeth before the judge, 
 he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily, 
 but the bottom of all is the fear of the halter: not that he 
 hath any detestation of the offense, as is evident, because, 
 let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and 
 so a rogue still; whereas, if his mind was changed, he would 
 be otherwise. 
 
 HOPE. Now I have showed you the reasons of their going 
 back, do you show me the manner thereof. 
 
 CHR. So I will willingly. 
 
 Hmo the 1. They draw* off their thoughts, all that they 
 
 apostate may, from the remembrance of God, death, and 
 
 goes back. . , 
 
 judgment to come. 
 
 2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet- 
 prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the 
 like. 
 
 3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Chris- 
 tians. 
 
 4. After that, they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, 
 reading, godly conference, and the like. 
 
 5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats 
 of some of the godly, and that devilishly; that they may have 
 
158 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 a seeming color to throw religion (for the sake of some in- 
 firmity they have spied in them) behind their backs. 
 
 6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves 
 with, carnal, loose and wanton men. 
 
 7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in 
 secret; and glad are they if they can see such things in any 
 that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do 
 it through their example.' 
 
 8. After this, they begin to play with little sins openly. 
 
 9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves as 
 they are. Thus being launched again into the gulf of misery, 
 unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish 
 in their own deceivings. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pilgrims 
 
 were got over the Enchanted Ground, and entering in the 
 
 country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet 
 
 and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, 
 
 they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here they 
 
 heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the 
 
 flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice 
 
 Cant. u. 10-12. rr ~ 
 
 or the turtle in the land. In this country the 
 sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of 
 Giant Despair, neither could they from this place so much 
 as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within sight of the 
 
 city they were going to; also here met them 
 
 some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land 
 the Shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the 
 borders of heaven. In this land also the contract between 
 
 the Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed; 
 
 Isa. Ixn. 5. . . 
 
 yea here, As the bridegroom rejoiceth over the 
 
 bride, so did their God rejoice over them." 
 
 Here they had no want of corn and wine; for in this place they 
 
 met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their 
 
 pilgrimage. Here they heard voices from out of the city, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 159 
 
 loud voices, saying, "Say ye to the daughter of Zion, 
 Behold, thy salvation cometh ! behold, his re- 
 ward is with him!" Here all the inhabitants 
 of the country called them "The holy people, 
 The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out," etc. 
 
 Now as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing 
 than in parts more remote from the kingdom to which they 
 were bound; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a 
 more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and pre- 
 cious stones, also the street thereof was paved with gold; so 
 that by reason of the natural 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. Wherefore 
 here they lay by it a while, crying out because of their pangs, 
 "If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of love." 
 
 But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear 
 their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer 
 and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, and gardens, 
 and their gates opened into the highway. Now as they came 
 up to these places, behold, the gardener stood in the way, to 
 Deut xxiii 24 whom the pilgrims said, Whose goodly vine- 
 yards and gardens are these? He answered, 
 they are the King's, and are planted here for his own delights, 
 and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them 
 into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with 
 dainties. He also showed them there the King's walks, and 
 the arbors where he delighted to be: and here they tarried 
 and slept. 
 
 Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their 
 sleep at this time than ever they did in all their journey; and 
 being in a muse thereabout, the gardener said even to me, 
 Wherefore musest thou at the matter? It is the nature of 
 the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go down so 
 sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak. 
 
 So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves 
 
160 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 to go up to the city. But, as I said, the reflection of the sun 
 upon the city (for the city was pure gold) was 
 
 Rev, xxi. 18. i -i 
 
 so extremely glorious, that they could not, as 
 
 yet, with open face behold it, but through an 
 
 instrument made for that purpose. So I saw, that as they 
 
 went on, there met them two men, in raiment that shone 
 
 like gold, also their faces shone as the light. 
 
 These men asked the pilgrims whence they came; and they 
 told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, 
 what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and pleasures 
 they had met in the way; and they told them. Then said the 
 men that met them, You have but two difficulties more to 
 meet with, and then you are in the city. 
 
 Christian then and his companion asked the men to go 
 along with them, so they told them they would. But, said 
 they, you must obtain it by. your own faith. So I saw in my 
 dream that they went on together till they came in sight of 
 the gate. 
 
 Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a 
 
 river, but there was no bridge to go over; the river was very 
 
 deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river the 
 
 pilgrims were much stounded; but the men that 
 
 went with them said, You must go through, or you cannot 
 
 come at the gate. 
 
 The pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other 
 way to the gate; to which they answered, Yes; but there hath 
 not any, save two, to wit, Enoch and Elijah, 
 welcome to been permitted to tread that path, since the 
 
 Twe%a h s o g ut b of foundation of the world, nor shall, until the last 
 for^ M int trumpet shall sound. The pilgrims then, espe- 
 i Cor. xv. si, 52. c i a iiy Christian, began to despond in their 
 Angels help us niinds, and looked this way and that, but no 
 not comfortably way could be found by them by which they 
 
 through death. 
 
 might escape the river. Then they asked the 
 men if the waters were all of a depth. They said, No; yet 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 161 
 
 they could not help them in that case; for said they, You 
 shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of 
 the place. 
 
 They then addressed themselves to the water; and entering, 
 Christian began to sink, and, crying out to his good friend 
 Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep waters; the billows go over 
 my head, all his waves go over me ! Selah. 
 
 Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother; I feel 
 the bottom, and it is good. Then said Christian, Ah, my 
 friend, the sorrows of death have compassed me 
 conflict at the about; I shall not see the land that flows with 
 milk and honey. And with that, a great dark- 
 ness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see 
 before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses; 
 so that he could neither remember nor orderly talk of any of 
 those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of 
 his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended 
 to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart-fears that 
 he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at 
 the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he 
 was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had 
 committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. 
 It was also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of 
 hobgoblins and evil spirits; forever and anon he would inti- 
 mate so much by words. Hopeful therefore here had much 
 ado to keep his brother's head above water; yea, sometimes 
 he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while, he would 
 rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavor to 
 comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men stand- 
 ing by to receive us; but Christian would answer, It is you, 
 it is you they wait for; you have been hopeful ever since I 
 knew you. And so have you, said he to Christian. Ah, 
 brother ! said he, surely if I was right, he would now arise to 
 help me; but for my sins he hath brought me into the snare, 
 
 tid hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have 
 
162 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 quite forgot the text where it is said of the wicked, "There 
 is no band in their death, but their strength is 
 
 Ps. Ixxiii. 4, 5. 
 
 firm; they are not troubled as other men, 
 neither are they plagued like other men." These troubles 
 and distresses that you go through in these waters are no 
 sign that God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, 
 whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have 
 received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. 
 Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was in a muse a 
 while. To whom also Hopeful added this word, "Be of good 
 
 cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole." And 
 delivered from with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, 
 in death. On I see nim again! and he tells me, "When 
 
 thou passest through the waters, I will be with 
 
 Isa. xlin. 2. e 
 
 thee; and through the rivers, they shall not 
 overflow thee." Then they both took courage, and the 
 enemy was after that as still as a stone until they were gone 
 over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand 
 upon; and so it followed that the rest of the river was but 
 shallow. Thus they got over. Now, upon the bank of the 
 
 river, on the other side, they saw the two Shin- 
 
 The angels do 
 
 wait for them as m g Men again, who there waited for them. 
 
 soon as they are , i 
 
 passed out of this Wherefore, being come out ot the river, they 
 saluted them, saying, We are ministering spirits, 
 sent forth to minister for those that shall be heirs of salva- 
 tion. Thus they went along towards the gate. Now you 
 must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill; but the 
 pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these 
 two men to lead them up by the arms : also they 
 of e morta!it P y Ut nad left their mortal garments behind them in 
 the river; for, though they went in with them, 
 they came out without them. They therefore went up here 
 with much agility and speed, though the foundation upon 
 which the city was framed was higher than the clouds; they 
 therefore went up through the regions of the air, sweetly 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 163 
 
 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. You 
 
 neb. xn. XX x4. 
 
 .. are going now, said they, to the paradise of 
 
 God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and 
 eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when 
 you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and 
 your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even 
 all the days of eternity. There you shall not see again such 
 things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon 
 the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death; "for 
 the former things are passed away." You are 
 ' ' going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, 
 CtepJbK IT! anc * to t* 16 P r phets; men that God hath taken 
 away from the evil to come, and that are now 
 resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. 
 The men then asked, What must we do in the holy place? 
 To whom it was answered, You must there receive the com- 
 fort of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you 
 must reap what you have sown, even the fruit 
 of all your prayers and tears, and sufferings for 
 the King by the way. In that place you must wear crowns 
 of gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and visions of the 
 Holy One; for there "you shall see him as he 
 is." There also you shall serve him continually 
 with praise, with shouting and thanksgiving, whom you de- 
 sired to serve in the world, though with much difficulty, be- 
 cause 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 
 
164 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 your friends again that are gone thither before you; and there 
 you shall with joy receive even every one that follows into 
 the holy place after you. There also you shall be clothed 
 with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to ride 
 i Thess iv out w * tn tne King of Glory. When he shall 
 
 13-16. come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as 
 
 Jude 14. ; r 
 
 Dan. vii. 9, io. upon the wings or the wind, you shall come 
 
 1 Cor. vi. 2, 3. -.11 j i T_ i 11 -,* A i i 
 
 with him ; and when he shall sit upon the throne 
 of judgment, you shall sit by him; yea, and when he shall 
 pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let them be 
 angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that judgment, 
 because they were his and your enemies. Also, when he 
 shall again return to the city, you shall go too, with sound of 
 trumpet, and be ever with him. 1 
 
 Now while they were thus drawing towards the gate, be- 
 hold, a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them ; 
 to whom it was said by the other two Shining Ones, These 
 are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the 
 world, and that have left all for his holy name; and he hath 
 sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far 
 on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their 
 Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave 
 a great shout saying, "Blessed are they that 
 are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb." 
 There came out also at this time to meet them several of the 
 King's trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, 
 who, with melodious noises, and loud, made even the heavens 
 to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Chris- 
 tian and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes from the 
 world; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet. 
 This done, they compassed them round on every side; 
 some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, 
 
 1 Now, now look how the holy pilgrims ride, 
 Clouds are their chariots, angels are their guide: ' 
 Who would not here for him all hazards run, 
 That thus provides for his when this world's done? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 165 
 
 some on the left (as 'twere to guard them through the upper 
 regions), continually sounding as they went, with melodious 
 noise, in notes on high: so that the very sight was to them 
 that could behold it, as if heaven itself was come down to 
 meet them. Thus therefore they walked on together; and as 
 they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joy- 
 ful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks and ges- 
 tures, still signify to Christian and his brother how welcome 
 they were into their company, and with what gladness they 
 came to meet them. And now were these two men, as 'twere 
 in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with 
 the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. 
 Here also they had the city itself in view, and they thought 
 they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them 
 thereto. But above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that 
 they had about their own dwelling there, with such company, 
 and that forever and ever. Oh ! by what tongue or pen can 
 their glorious joy be expressed ! 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 
 
 Rev. xxn. 14. 
 
 THEY THAT DO HIS COMMANDMENTS, THAT THEY 
 
 MAY HAVE RIGHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE, AND MAY ENTER IN 
 THROUGH THE GATES INTO THE CITY." 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men bid them 
 call at the gate; the which when they did, some from above 
 looked over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, etc., 
 to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from the City 
 of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of 
 this place: and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man 
 his certificate, which they had received in the beginning; 
 those, therefore, were carried in to the King, who, when he 
 had read them, said, Where are the men? To 
 
 Isa. xxvi. 2. 
 
 whom it was answered, They are standing 
 without the gate. The King then commanded to open the 
 
 
166 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 gate, "That the righteous nation," said he, "that keepeth 
 truth may enter in." 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at 
 the gate; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and 
 they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There was 
 also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave them 
 to them; the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token 
 of honor. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in 
 the city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, 
 "Enter ye into the joy of your Lord." I also heard the men 
 themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, 
 
 licv. v. 13, 14. 
 
 saying, Blessing, honor, glory, and power he 
 to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for- 
 ever and ever." 
 
 Now just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I 
 looked in after them; and behold, the city shone like the sun; 
 the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked 
 many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, 
 and golden harps to sing praises withal. 
 
 There were also of them that had wings, and they answered 
 one another without intermission, saying, "Holy, holy, holy, 
 is the Lord." And after that they shut up the gates; which, 
 when I had seen, I wished myself among them. 
 
 Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my 
 head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river- 
 side; but he soon got over, and that without 
 half that difficulty which the other two men 
 met with. For it happened that there was then 
 in that place one Vain-hope, a ferryman, that with his boat 
 helped him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the 
 hill to come up to the gate, only he came alone; 
 y~ him over* 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 167 
 
 quickly administered to him; but he was asked by the men 
 that looked over the top of the gate, Whence came you ? and 
 what would you have ? He answered, I have eat and drank 
 in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets. 
 Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go 
 in and show it to the King. So he fumbled in his bosom for 
 one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none ? But 
 the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but 
 he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two 
 Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the 
 city, to go out and take Ignorance and bind him hand and 
 foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and car- 
 ried him through the air, to the door that I saw in the side of 
 the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was 
 a way to hell even from the gates of heaven, as well as from 
 the City of Destruction. 
 
 So I awoke, and behold, it was a dream. 
 
 FINIS 
 
168 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 THE CONCLUSION 
 
 Now, Reader, I have told my Dream to thee; 
 
 See if thou canst interpret it to me, 
 
 Or to thyself, or neighbor; but take heed 
 
 Of misinterpreting; for that, instead 
 
 Of doing good, will but thyself abuse: 
 
 By misinterpreting; evil ensues. 
 
 Take heed also, that thou be not extreme 
 In playing with the outside of my Dream: 
 Nor let my figure or similitude 
 Put thee into a laughter or a feud; 
 Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee, 
 Do thou the substance of my matter see. 
 
 Put by the curtains, look within my veil; 
 Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail 
 There, if thou seekest them, such things to find, 
 As will be helpful to an honest mind. 
 
 What of my dross thou findest there, be bold 
 To throw away, but yet preserve the gold; 
 What if my gold be wrapped up in ore? 
 None throws away the apple for the core: 
 But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, 
 I know not but 'twill make me dream again. 
 
 THE END 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS 
 TO COME: 
 
 The Second Part 
 
 DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM: 
 WHEREIN IS SET FORTH THE MANNER OF THE SET- 
 TING OUT OF CHRISTIAN'S WIFE AND CHILDREN, 
 THEIR DANGEROUS JOURNEY, AND SAFE ARRIVAL 
 AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY: 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN 
 
 7 have used Similitudes. Hos. xii. 10. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S WAY OF SENDING FORTH HIS 
 SECOND PART OF THE PILGRIM 
 
 Go now, my little Book, to every place 
 
 Where my first Pilgrim has but shown his face; 
 
 Call at their door. If any say, Who's there? 
 
 Then answer thou, Christiana is here. 
 
 If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, 
 
 With all thy boys; and then, as thou know'st how, 
 
 Tell who they are, also from whence they came; 
 
 Perhaps they'll know them by their looks or name. 
 
 But if they should not, ask them yet again 
 
 If formerly they did not entertain 
 
 One Christian, a Pilgrim? If they say 
 
 They did, and were delighted in his way; 
 
 Then let them know that those related were 
 
 Unto him, yea, his wife and children are. 
 
 Tell them, that they have left their house and home, 
 Are turned Pilgrims, seek a world to come; 
 That they have met with hardships in the way; 
 That they do meet with troubles night and day; 
 That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils; 
 Have also overcome a many evils. 
 Yea, tell them also of the next, who have 
 Of love to pilgrimage been stout and brave 
 Defenders of that way, and how they still 
 Refuse this world, to do their Father's will. 
 
 Go, tell them also of those dainty things 
 That Pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings. 
 Let them acquainted be, too, how they are 
 Beloved of their King, under his care; 
 What goodly mansions for them he provides, 
 Tho' they meet with rough winds and swelling tides, 
 How brave a calm they will enjoy at last, 
 Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast. 
 
 Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace 
 Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace 
 Thee, and thy fellows, with such cheer and fare, 
 Ae show will they of Pilgrims lovers are. 
 171 
 
172 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 1. OBJECT 
 
 But how if they will not believe of me 
 That I am truly thine; 'cause some there be 
 That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name, 
 Seek by disguise to seem the very same, 
 And by that means have wrought themselves into 
 The hands and houses of I know not who? 
 
 ANSWER 
 
 '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; 
 But yet they, by their features, do declare 
 Themselves not mine to be, whose' er they are. 
 
 If such thou meet'st with, then thine only way 
 Before them all, is, to say out thy say, 
 In thine own native language, which no man 
 Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can. 
 If, after all, they still of you shall doubt, 
 Thinking that you, like gipsies, go about 
 In naughty wise the country to defile, 
 Or that you seek good people to beguile 
 With things unwarrantable; send for me, 
 And I will testify you Pilgrims be; 
 Yea, I will testify that only you 
 My Pilgrims are; and that alone will do. 
 
 2. OBJECT 
 
 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? 
 
 Fright not thyself, my Book, for such bugbears 
 Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. 
 My Pilgrim's book has travell'd sea and land, 
 Yet could I never come to understand 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 173 
 
 That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door 
 By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. 
 
 In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is esteem'd a friend, a brother. 
 
 In Holland too, 'tis said, as I am told, 
 My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold. 
 
 Highlanders and wild Irish can agree 
 My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 
 
 'Tis in New England under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving countenance, 
 As to be trimm'd, new clothed, and deck'd with gems, 
 That it may show its features and its limbs, 
 Yet more; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, 
 That of him thousands daily sing and talk. 
 
 If you draw nearer home, it will appear 
 My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or ear; 
 City and country will him entertain 
 With, Welcome, Pilgrim; yea, they can't refrain 
 From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by, 
 Or shows his head in any company. 
 
 Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, 
 Esteem it much, yea, value it above 
 Things of a greater bulk; yea, with delight, 
 Say, My lark's leg is better than a kite. 
 
 Young ladies, and young gentlewomen too, 
 Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show; 
 Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts 
 My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts 
 His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains, 
 As yield them profit double to their pains 
 Of reading: yea, I think I may be bold 
 To say, some prize him far above their gold. 
 
 The very children that do walk the street, 
 If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet, 
 Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
 He is the only stripling of the day. 
 
 They that have never seen him, yet admire 
 What they have heard of him, and much desire 
 To have his company, and hear him tell 
 Those 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, 
 
174 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend, 
 And to> those whom they love, they do him send. 
 
 Wherefore, my Second Part, thou need'st not be 
 Afraid to show thy head; none can hurt thee, 
 That wish but well to him that went before, 
 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store 
 Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, 
 For young, for old, for stagg'ring, and for stable. 
 
 3. OBJECT 
 
 But some there be that say, he laughs too loud; 
 And some do say his head is in a cloud. 
 Some say, his words and stories are so dark, 
 They know not how, by them, to find his mark. 
 
 One may (I think) say. Both his laughs and cries 
 May well be guess'd at by his watery eyes. 
 Some things are of that nature as to make 
 One's fancy checkle, while his heart doth ache. 
 When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, 
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep. 
 
 Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head, 
 That doth but show how wisdom's covered 
 With its own mantles, and to stir the mind 
 To a search after what it fain would find: 
 Things that seem to be hid in words obscure, 
 Do but the godly mind the more allure; 
 To study what those sayings should contain, 
 That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. 
 
 I also know a dark similitude 
 Will on the fancy more itself intrude, 
 And will stick faster in the heart and head, 
 Than things from similes not borrowed. 
 
 Wherefore, my Book, let no discouragement 
 Hinder thy travels. Behold thou art sent 
 To friends, not foes; to friends that will give place 
 To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal'd, 
 Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal'd; 
 What Christian left lock'd up, and went his way, 
 Sweet Christiana opens with her key. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 175 
 
 4. OBJECT 
 
 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? 
 
 My Christiana, if with such thou meet, 
 By all means in all loving wise them greet; 
 Render them not reviling for revile; 
 But if they frown, I prithee on them smile; 
 Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report, 
 Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. 
 
 Some love no cheese, some love no fish, and some 
 Love not their friends, nor their own house or home; 
 Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl, 
 More than they love a cuckoo or an owl; 
 Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice, 
 And seek those who to find thee will rejoice; 
 By no means strive, but in humble-wise 
 Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise. 
 
 Go then, my little Book, and show to all 
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, 
 What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest, 
 And wish what thou shalt show them may be blest 
 To them for good, may make them choose to be 
 Pilgrims, better by far, than thee or me. 
 
 Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art, 
 Say, I am Christiana, and my part 
 Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what 
 It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot: 
 
 Go also tell them who, and what they be, 
 That now do go on pilgrimage with thee: 
 Say, here's my neighbor Mercy, she is one 
 That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone. 
 Come, see 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; 
 
176 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 "Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried 
 Hosanna ! to whom old ones did deride. 
 
 Next tell them of old Honest, who you found 
 With his white hairs treading the Pilgrim's ground. 
 Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was, 
 How after his good Lord he bare his cross; 
 Perhaps with some gray head this may prevail 
 With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. 
 
 Tell them also how Master Fearing went 
 On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent 
 In solitariness, with fears and cries, 
 And how at last he won the joyful prize. 
 He was a good man, though much down in spirit, 
 He is a good man, and doth life inherit. 
 
 Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also, 
 Who, not before, but still behind would go; 
 Show them also how he had like been slain, 
 And how one Great-heart did his life regain: 
 This man was true of heart, tho' weak in grace, 
 One might true godliness read in his face. 
 
 Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt, 
 A man with crutches, but much without fault; 
 Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he 
 Did love, and in opinions much agree. 
 And let all know, tho' weakness was their chance, 
 Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance. 
 
 Forget not Master Valiant-for-the-truth, 
 That man of courage, though a very youth. 
 Tell every one his spirit was so stout, 
 No man could ever make him face about, 
 And how Great-heart and he could not forbear, 
 But put down Doubting Castle, slay Despair. 
 
 Overlook not Master Despondency, 
 Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, tho' they lie 
 Under such mantles as may make them look 
 (With some) as if their God had them forsook. 
 They softly went, but sure, and at the end 
 Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their Friend. 
 When thou hast told the world of all these things, 
 Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings, 
 Which, if but touched, will such music make, 
 They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 177 
 
 These riddles that lie couch'd within thy breast, 
 Freely propound, expound; and for the rest 
 Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain 
 For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. 
 
 Now may this little Book a blessing be 
 To those that love this little Book and me: 
 And may its buyer have no cause to say, 
 His money is but lost or thrown away; 
 Yea, may this second Pilgrim yield that fruit, 
 As may with each good Pilgrim's fancy suit 
 And may it persuade some that go astray, 
 To turn their foot and heart to the right way. 
 
 Is the hearty prayer 
 
 of the Author, 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM 
 
 THE SECOND PART 
 
 COURTEOUS companions, some time since, to tell you my 
 dream that I had of Christian the Pilgrim, and of his dan- 
 gerous journey toward the Celestial Country, was pleasant 
 to me, and profitable to you. I told you then also what I 
 saw concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling 
 they were to go with him on pilgrimage, insomuch that he 
 was forced to go on his progress without them; for he durst 
 not run the danger of that destruction which he feared would 
 come by staying with them in the City of Destruction. 
 Wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them and departed. 
 
 Now it hath so happened, through the multiplicity of busi- 
 ness, that I have been much hindered and kept back from 
 my wonted travels into those parts whence he went, and so 
 could not till now obtain an opportunity to make further 
 inquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an 
 account of them. But having had some concerns that way 
 of late, I went down again thitherward. Now, having taken 
 up my lodgings in a wood, about a mile off the place, as I 
 slept I dreamed again. 
 
 And as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentleman 
 came by where I lay; and because he was to go some part of 
 the way that I was travelling, me thought 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 
 
 179 
 
180 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 about Christian and his travels; for thus I began with the 
 old man: 
 
 Sir, said I, what town is that there below, that lieth on the 
 left hand of our way ? 
 
 Then said Mr. Sagacity (for that was his name), It is the 
 City of Destruction, a populous place, but possessed with a 
 very ill-conditioned and idle sort of people. 
 
 I thought that was that city, quoth I; I went once myself 
 through that town, and therefore know that this report you 
 give of it is true. 
 
 SAG. Too true, I wish I could speak truth in speaking 
 better of them that dwell therein. 
 
 Well, Sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well-meaning 
 man; and so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that 
 which is good. Pray, did you never hear what happened to 
 a man some time ago in this town (whose name was Chris- 
 tian) that went on pilgrimage up towards the higher regions ? 
 
 SAG. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the molesta- 
 tions, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, frights, and 
 fears that he met with, and had in his journey. Besides, I 
 must tell you, all our country rings of him; there are but few 
 houses that have heard of him and his doings but have sought 
 after and got the records of his pilgrimage; yea, I think I 
 Christians are may say t * iat his hazardous journey has got 
 well spoken of a many well-wishers to his ways; for though, 
 
 when gone, tho' . 
 
 called fools while when he was here, he was tool in every man s 
 
 they are here. , , . , . , . , , 
 
 mouth, yet, now he is gone, he is highly com- 
 mended of all. For, 'tis said he lives bravely where he is; 
 yea, many of them that are resolved never to run his hazards, 
 yet have their mouths water at his gains. 
 
 They may, quoth I, well think, if they think anything that 
 is true, that he liveth well where he is; for he now lives at 
 and in the Fountain of Life, and has what he has without 
 labor and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. 
 
 SAG. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him. Some 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 181 
 
 say that he now walks in white, that he has a chain of gold 
 
 about his neck, that he has a crown of gold, 
 
 Chap* l vi*ii. beset with pearls, upon his head. Others say 
 
 that the Shining Ones, that sometimes showed 
 
 themselves to him in his journey, are become his companions, 
 
 and that he is as familiar with them in the place where he is, 
 
 as here one neighbor is with another. Besides, 'tis confi- 
 
 ... dently affirmed concerning him, that the King 
 
 of the place where he is has bestowed on him 
 
 already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at 
 
 court; and that he every day eateth and drinketh, and 
 
 walketh, and talketh with him; and receiveth of the smiles 
 
 and favors of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it 
 
 is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of that country, 
 
 will shortly come into these parts, and will know the reason, 
 
 if they can give any, why his neighbors set so little by him, 
 
 and had him so much in derision when they perceived that 
 
 Jude 14 is ke WOU ^ k e a pilgrim. For they say, that now 
 
 he is so in the affections of his Prince, and that 
 
 Christian s King . . . 
 
 will take his Sovereign is so much concerned with the 
 
 Christian s part. . ,. . . . ~ . . 
 
 indignities that were cast upon Christian when 
 he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all 
 as if done unto himself; and no marvel, for 'twas for the love 
 that he had to his Prince that he ventured as he did. 
 
 I dare say, quoth I, I am glad on't; I am glad for the poor 
 
 . man's sake, for that now he has rest from his 
 
 labor, and for that he now reapeth the benefit 
 
 of his tears with joy; 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 rumor of 
 
 these things is noised abroad in this country; who can tell 
 
 but that it may work some good effect on some that are left 
 
 behind ? But pray, Sir, while it is fresh in my mind, do you 
 
 hear anything of his wife and children? Poor hearts, I 
 
 wonder in my mind what they do ! 
 
182 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 SAG. Who ? Christiana and her sons ? They are like to 
 
 do as well as did Christian himself; for though they all played 
 
 the fool at the first, and would bv no means be 
 
 Good tidings of 
 
 Christians wife persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of 
 Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought 
 wonderfully with them; so they have packed up, and are also 
 gone after him. 
 
 Better and better, quoth I: but what! wife and children 
 and all ? 
 
 SAG. 'Tis true: I can give you an account of the matter, 
 for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly 
 acquainted with the whole affair. 
 
 Then, said I, a man it seems may report it for a truth ? 
 
 SAG. You need not fear to affirm it, I mean that they are 
 all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four 
 boys. And being we are, as I perceive, going some consider- 
 able way together, I will give you an account of the whole 
 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 
 
 Part I. page 194. 
 
 she could hear or 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 living with many a 
 heavy cogitation in the remembrance of the loss of loving 
 relations. This therefore of her husband did cost her many 
 
 a tear. But this was not all, for Christiana did 
 that k Je Churls to also begin to consider with herself, whether her 
 Tdaticm* lv unbecoming behavior towards her husband was 
 
 not one cause that she saw him no more, and 
 that in such sort he was taken away from her. And upon 
 this came into her mind, by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, 
 and ungodly carriages to her dear friend; which also clogged 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 183 
 
 her conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was more- 
 over much broken with calling to remembrance the restless 
 groans, brinish tears, and self-bemoanings of her husband, 
 and how she did harden her heart against all his entreaties, 
 and loving persuasions (of her and her sons) to go with him; 
 yea, there was not anything that Christian either said to her, 
 or did before her, all the while that his burden did hang on 
 his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, 
 
 and rent the caul of her heart in sunder. 
 
 Specially that bitter outcry of his, "What 
 shall I do to be saved?" did ring in her ears most dolefully. 
 Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all undone. I 
 have sinned away your father, and he is gone : he would have 
 had us with him; but I would not go myself, I also have hin- 
 dered you of life. With that the boys fell all into tears, and 
 cried out to go after their father. Oh ! said Christiana, that 
 it had been but our lot to go with him, then had it fared well 
 with us beyond what 'tis like to do now; for though I formerly 
 imagined concerning the troubles of your father, that they 
 proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he was 
 overrun with melancholy humors; yet now 'twill not out of 
 
 my mind but that they sprang from another 
 
 James i. 23-25. J i T T <i-i 
 
 cause, to wit, for that the Light or light was 
 given him, by the help of which, as I perceive, he has escaped 
 the snares of death. Then they all wept again, and cried 
 out, Oh ! woe worth the day ! 
 
 The next night Christiana had a dream; and behold, she 
 
 saw as if a broad parchment was opened before her, in which 
 
 were recorded the sum of her ways; and the 
 
 Christiana s 
 
 dream. times, as she thought, looked very black upon 
 
 her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, 
 "Lord have mercy upon me, a sinner"; and the little chil- 
 dren heard her. 
 
 After this she thought she saw two very ill-favored ones 
 standing by her bedside, and saying, What shall we do with 
 
184 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 this woman ? for she cries out for mercy waking and sleeping; 
 
 if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we 
 this is the shall lose her as we have lost her husband. 
 
 ce Wherefore we must, by one way or other, seek 
 
 to take her off from the thoughts of what shall 
 be hereafter, else all the world cannot help it but she will 
 become a pilgrim. 
 
 Now she awoke in a great sweat, also a trembling was 
 upon her, but after a while she fell to sleeping again. And 
 
 then she thought she saw Christian her hus- 
 ^iscouragement. band 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 heartily thank my Lord and King for bringing of me into 
 this place. Then shouted a company of them that stood 
 round about, and harped with their harps; but no man living 
 could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions. 
 Next morning when she was up, had prayed to God, and 
 talked with her children a while, one knocked hard at the 
 Convictions door, to whom she spake out, saying, If thou 
 
 seconded with comest in God's name, come in. So he said, 
 
 Jresh tidings of 
 
 God's readiness Amen, and opened the door, and saluted her 
 with Peace be to this house. The which when 
 he had done, he said, Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I 
 am come? Then she blushed and trembled, also her heart 
 began to wax warm with desires to know whence he came, 
 and what was his errand to her. So he said unto her, my 
 name is Secret, I dwell with those that are high. It is talked 
 of where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither; also 
 there is a report that thou art aware of the evil thou hast 
 formerly done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart 
 against his way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their 
 ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to tell 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 185 
 
 thee that he is a God ready to forgive, and that he taketh 
 delight to multiply to pardon offenses. He also would have 
 thee know that he inviteth thee to come into his presence, to 
 his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, 
 and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. 
 
 There is Christian thy husband, that was, with legions more 
 his companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister 
 life to beholders; and they will all be glad when they shall 
 hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's threshold. 
 Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bow- 
 ing her head to the ground, this Visitor proceeded and said, 
 Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, which 
 I have brought from thy husband's King. So 
 she took it and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of 
 the best perfume, also it was written in letters of gold. The 
 contents of the letter was: "That the King would have her 
 do as did Christian her husband; for that was the way to 
 come to his city, and to dwell in his presence 
 ovJrcom 9uite with Jy forever." At this the good woman 
 was quite overcome; so she cried out to her 
 Visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, 
 that we also may go and worship this King? 
 
 Then said the Visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before the 
 sweet: thou must through troubles, as did he that went be- 
 fore thee, enter this Celestial City. Wherefore 
 instruction I advise thee to do as did Christian thy hus- 
 
 band. Go to the Wicket-gate yonder, over the 
 plain, for that stands in the head of the way up which 
 thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise 
 that thou put this letter in thy bosom ; that thou read therein 
 to thyself and to thy children, until you have got it by rote- 
 of-heart, for it is one of the songs that thou 
 
 Ps. cxix. 54. 1.1 . 
 
 must sing while thou art in this house of thy 
 
 pilgrimage; also this thou must deliver in at the further gate. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as he 
 
186 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 told me this story, did himself seem to be greatly affected 
 therewith. He moreover proceeded and said, 
 
 Christiana prays . 
 
 well for her So Christiana called her sons together, and 
 
 began thus to address herself unto them: My 
 sons, I have, as you may perceive, been of late under much 
 exercise in my soul about the death of your father; not for 
 that I doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now 
 that he is well. I have also been much affected with the 
 thoughts of mine own state and yours, which I verily believe 
 is by nature miserable. My carriages also to your father in 
 his distress, is a great load to my conscience; for I hardened 
 both my own heart and yours against him, and refused to 
 go with him on pilgrimage. 
 
 The thoughts of these things would now kill me outright, 
 but that for a dream which I had last night, and but that for 
 the encouragement that this stranger has given me this 
 morning. Come, my children, let us pack up, and 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, according to the laws of that land. 
 
 Then did her children burst out into tears for joy that the 
 heart of their mother was so inclined. So their Visitor bid 
 them farewell; and they began to prepare to set out for their 
 journey. 
 
 But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the 
 
 women that were Christiana's neighbors came up to her 
 
 house and knocked at her door. To whom she 
 
 ^nwwTgtun said as before, If you come in God's name, come 
 
 neighbors m - At this the women were stunned, for this 
 
 kind of language they used not to hear, or to 
 
 perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. Yet they came 
 
 in : but, behold, they found the good woman a-preparing to be 
 
 gone from her house. 
 
 So they began and said, Neighbor, pray what is your mean- 
 ing by this? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 187 
 
 Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose 
 name was Mrs. Timorous, I am preparing for a journey. 
 (This Timorous was daughter to him that 
 met Christian upon the Hill Difficulty, and 
 would have had him gone back for fear of the lions.) 
 TIM. For what journey, I pray you ? 
 
 Timorous comes CHRTS. Even tO % afteF m ^ ^ d hu S*>and. 
 
 to visit And with that she fell a-weeping. 
 
 Christiana, with i . i , 
 
 Mercy, one of IiM. I hope not so, good neighbor; pray, 
 
 her neighbors. i M j > i i 
 
 for your poor children s sakes, do not so un- 
 womanly cast away yourself. 
 
 CHRIS. Nay, my children shall go with me; not one of 
 them is willing to stay behind. 
 
 TIM. I wonder, in my very heart, what, or who has 
 brought you into this mind. 
 
 CHRIS. O neighbor, knew you but as much as I do, I 
 doubt not but that you would go with me. 
 
 TIM. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that 
 so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth 
 thee to go nobody knows where? 
 
 CHRIS. Then Christiana replied, I have been sorely 
 
 afflicted since my husband's departure from me, but specially 
 
 since he went over the river. But that which 
 
 Death. 
 
 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 pilgrimage. 
 
 1 was a-dreaming last night that I saw him. O that my soul 
 was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of 
 the country, he sits and eats with him at his table, he is be- 
 come a companion of immortals, and has a 
 
 2 Cor. v. 1-4. 
 
 house now given him to dwell in, to which the 
 best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me to be but as 
 a dunghill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me, 
 with promise of entertainment if I shall come to him; his 
 messenger was here even now, and lias brought me a letter, 
 
188 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 which invites me to come. And with that she plucked 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 yc arselves upon such difficulties ! You have 
 
 heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet 
 pages\2-i7 with, even in a manner at the first step that he 
 
 took on his way, as our Neighbor Obstinate can 
 yet testify, for he went along with him; yea, and Pliable too, 
 until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any farther. We 
 also heard over and above, how he met with the lions, Apol- 
 lyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is 
 the danger that he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten 
 by thee; for if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what 
 
 canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Con- 
 
 s sider also that these four sweet babes are tn y 
 
 children, thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, 
 though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself, yet, 
 for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep thou at home. 
 
 But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my neighbor. 
 I have now a price put into mine hand to get gain, and I 
 
 should be a fool of the greatest size if I should 
 
 A pertinent reply .,..,, 
 
 to fleshly 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 discouragement, that they show I am in 
 the right. The bitter must come before the sweet, and that 
 also will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since you 
 came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you to 
 be gone, and not to disquiet me further. 
 
 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fellow, 
 Come, Neighbor Mercy, let's leave her in her own hands, I 
 since she scorns our counsel and company. But Mercy was | 
 at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neigh- 
 bor, and that for a twofold reason. First, her bowels yearned 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 189 
 
 over Christiana: so she said within herself, If my neighbor 
 
 will needs be gone, I will go a little way with 
 yearn over her and help her. Secondly, her bowels 
 
 yearned over her own soul (for what Christiana 
 had said had taken some hold upon her mind). Wherefore 
 she said within herself again, I will yet have more talk with 
 this Christiana, and if I find truth and life in what she shall 
 say, myself with my heart shall also go with her. Wherefore 
 Mercy began thus to reply to her Neighbor Timorous : 
 
 MERCY. Neighbor, I did indeed come with you to see 
 
 Christiana this morning; and since she is, as 
 jb*o2Hr, but you see, a-taking of her last farewell of her 
 foxier cleaves country, I think to walk this sunshine morning 
 
 a little way with her to help her on the way. 
 But she told her not of her second reason, but kept that to 
 herself. 
 
 TIM. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fooling too, but 
 take heed in time and be wise : while we are out of danger, we 
 
 are out: but when we are in, we are in. So 
 
 Timorous 
 
 acquaints her Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and 
 
 friends what the , . _ 
 
 good Christiana Christiana betook herself to her journey. .But 
 when Timorous was got home to her house, she 
 sends for some of her neighbors, to wit, Mrs. Bat's-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. Neighbors, having had little to do this morning, I 
 went to give Christiana a visit ; and when I came at the door, 
 I khocked, as you know 'tis our custom. And she answered, 
 If you come in God's name, come in. So in I went, thinking 
 all was well. But when I came in, I found her preparing her- 
 self 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 
 
190 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 husband. She told me also a dream that she had, and how 
 the King of the country where her husband was, had sent 
 her an inviting letter to come thither. 
 
 Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And what ! 
 
 nolhin K g n ~ d y U think she wiil f ? 
 
 TIM. Ay, go she will, whatever come on't: 
 and me thinks I know it by this, for that which was my 
 great argument to persuade her to stay at home (to wit, 
 the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one 
 great argument with her to put her forward on her journey. 
 For she told me in so many words, The bitter goes before 
 the sweet; yea, and forasmuch as it so doth, it makes the 
 sweet the sweeter. 
 
 MRS. BAT'S-EYES. Oh this blind and foolish woman ! 
 
 said she; will she not take warning by her husband's afflic- 
 
 tions ? For my part, I see, if he was here 
 
 Mrs. Bats-eyes. \ . 
 
 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 
 Inconsiderate. dwells and retain this her mind, who could live 
 
 quietly by her ? for she will either be dumpish 
 or unneighborly, or talk of such matters as no wise body can 
 abide: Wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for her 
 departure; let her go, and let better come in her room: 'twas 
 never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it. 
 
 Then Mrs. Light-mind added as folio we th: 
 Light-mind. Come, put this kind of talk away. I was 
 Madam Wanton, yesterday at Madam Wanton's, where we were 
 i l too as me rry as the maids. For who do you think 
 
 . should be there, but I and Mrs. Love-the-flesh, 
 
 Faithful in time 
 
 past. and three or four 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 191 
 
 pleasure. And I dare say my lady herself is an admirably 
 
 well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. 
 
 By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went 
 
 along with her. So as they went, her children 
 betwixt r Mercy being there also, Christiana began to discourse. 
 Thriftiwa. And Mercy, said Christiana, I take this as an 
 
 unexpected favor, that thou shouldest set foot 
 
 out-of-doors with me, to accompany me a little on my way. 
 
 MERCY. Then said young Mercy (for she 
 
 Mercy Mines wag but young), If I thought it would be to 
 
 purpose to go with you, I would never go near 
 the town any more. 
 
 CHRIS. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot 
 with me: I well know what will be the end of our pilgrimage; 
 
 my husband is where he would not but be for 
 C wMh n ave all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt 
 
 with n her hb r tnou ^ rejected, though thou goest but upon 
 
 my invitation. The King who hath sent for 
 me and my children is one that delighteth in mercy. Besides, 
 if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me 
 as my servant; yet we will have all things in common betwixt 
 thee and me; only go along with me. 
 
 MERCY. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall 
 
 be entertained? Had I this hope, but from 
 
 McepLw btS f ne that Can tell J W0uld make n Stick at all 
 
 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 there I will 
 
 further inquire for thee; and if there thou shalt 
 
 Christiana n 
 
 allures her to the no t meet with encouragement, I will be content 
 
 gate, which is .. TIMI 
 
 Christ, and that thou shalt return to thy place. I also will 
 
 uZuire pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest 
 
 to me and my children, in thy accompanying 
 of us in our way, as thou dost. 
 
192 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 MERCY. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall 
 follow; and the Lord grant that my lot may 
 
 Mercy prays. * 
 
 there fall, even as the King of heaven shall 
 have his heart upon me. 
 
 Christiana then was glad at her heart, not only that she 
 had a companion, but also for that she had 
 
 Christiana glad 
 
 of Mercy s prevailed with this poor maid to fall in love 
 
 with her own salvation. So they went on to- 
 gether, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, 
 Wherefore weepeth my sister so? 
 
 MERCY. Alas! said she, who can but lament that shall 
 but rightly consider what a state and condition 
 
 Mercy grieves . . . 
 
 for her carnal my poor relations are in, that yet remain in our 
 sinful town ? And that which makes my grief 
 the more heavy, is, because they have no instructor, nor any 
 to tell them what is to come. 
 
 CHRIS. Bowels becometh pilgrims; and thou dost for thy 
 friends as my good Christian did for me when he left me; he 
 Christians mourned .for that I would not heed nor regard 
 
 prayers were him, but his Lord and ours did gather up his 
 
 answered for his . 
 
 relations after tears and put them into his bottle; and now 
 
 both I, and thou, and these my sweet babes, 
 
 are reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, 
 
 these tears of thine will not be lost; for the truth hath said, 
 
 that "They that sow in tears shall reap in 
 
 Ps. cxxvi. 5, 6. . . , 
 
 joy, in singing. And he that goeth forth 
 and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come 
 again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." 
 Then said Mercy: 
 
 Let the Most Blessed be my guide, 
 
 If't be his blessed will, 
 Unto his gate, into his fold, 
 
 Up to his holy hill. 
 And let him never suffer me 
 
 To swerve or turn aside 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 193 
 
 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 thine, 
 
 With all their heart and mind. 
 
 Now my old friend proceeded and said: But when Chris- 
 tiana came up to the Slough of Despond, she began to be at 
 a stand ; for, said she, This is the place in which 
 m y dear husband had like to have been smoth- 
 ered with mud. She perceived also, that not- 
 withstanding the command of the King to make this place 
 for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So 
 I asked if that was true? Yes, said the old 
 co k n1lu7ons arnal gentleman, too true; for that many there be 
 w'orfoflife. tlm t Pretend to be the King's laborers, and that 
 say they are for mending the King's highways, 
 that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead 
 of mending. Here Christiana therefore, with 
 Eldest l atthe her boys, did make a stand. But said Mercy, 
 S Dponf. Come, let us venture, only let us 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. Now they had no sooner got over, but they thought 
 they heard words that said unto them, "Blessed 
 is she that believeth, for there shall be a per- 
 formance of the things that have been told her from the Lord." 
 Then they went on again; and said Mercy to Christiana, 
 Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the 
 Wicket-gate as you, I think no Slough of Despond would 
 discourage me. 
 
 Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I know mine; 
 and, good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we 
 come at our journey's end. 
 
194 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 For can it be imagined, that the people that design to 
 attain such excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied 
 that happiness as we are, but that we shall meet with what 
 fears and scares, with what troubles and afflictions they can 
 possibly assault us with, that hate us ? 
 
 And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by 
 myself. Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana, and Mercy, 
 and the boys, go all of them up to the gate; to 
 be 'made wtik which, when they were come, they betook them- 
 }r^as a wM d selves to a short debate about how they must 
 in^futhand ma nage their calling at the gate, and what 
 Part I- should be said to him that did open to them. 
 
 page 29. 
 
 So it was concluded, since Christiana was the 
 eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she 
 should speak to him that did open, for the rest. So Chris- 
 tiana began to knock, and as her poor husband 
 
 The dog, the . 
 
 devil, an enemy did, she knocked, and knocked again. But in- 
 stead of any that answered, they all thought 
 that they heard as if a dog came barking upon them; a dog, 
 and a great one too, and this made the women and children 
 afraid; nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear 
 the mastiff should fly upon them. Now, therefore, they were 
 greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, 
 
 Christiana x 
 
 and her an d knew not what to do. Knock they durst 
 
 companions 111 i 
 
 perplexed about not, for fear of the dog; go back they durst not, 
 for fear that the Keeper of that gate should 
 espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them. 
 At last they thought of knocking again, and knocked more 
 vehemently 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 Christiana made low obeisance, and said, Let not our 
 Lord be offended with his handmaidens for that we have 
 knocked at his princely gate. Then said the Keeper, Whence 
 come ye, and what is that you would have ? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 195 
 
 Christiana answered, We are come from whence Christian 
 did come, and upon the same errand as he; to wit, to be,jf it 
 shall please you, graciously admitted by this gate, into the 
 way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer, my 
 Lord, in the next place, that I am Christiana, once the wife 
 of Christian, that now is gotten above. 
 
 With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, What ! 
 is she become now a pilgrim, that but a while ago abhorred 
 that life? Then she bowed her head, and said, Yes, and so 
 are these, my sweet babes, also. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and let her in, and said also, 
 "Suffer the little children to come unto me"; and with that 
 
 Haw Christiana ne snut up tne S ate - ^his done, he called to a 
 is entertained trumpeter that was above over the gate, to 
 
 at the gate. * . . . . 
 
 entertain Christiana with shouting and sound 
 of trumpet for joy. So he obeyed and sounded, 
 and filled the air with his melodious notes. 
 
 Now all this while poor Mercy did stand without, trembling 
 and crying for fear that she was rejected. But when Chris- 
 tiana 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 hither upon the 
 
 same account as myself; one that is much de- 
 
 Lhristianas . . 
 
 prayer for her jected in her mind, tor that she comes, as she 
 thinks, without sending for, whereas I was sent 
 
 to by my husband's King to come. 
 
 Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute 
 
 was as long to her as an hour, wherefore she prevented Chris- 
 tiana from a fuller interceding for her, by knock- 
 
 fc hungering & m g at the gate herself. And she knocked then 
 
 ferventer so ^ ou d, that she made Christiana to start. 
 
 Then said the Keeper of the gate, Who is there ? 
 
 and said Christiana, It is my friend. 
 
 So he opened the gate, and looked out; but Mercy was 
 
196 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 fallen down without, in a swoon, for she fainted, and was 
 afraid that no gate would be opened to her. 
 
 Mercy faints. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and said, 
 Damsel, I bid thee arise. 
 
 Oh, 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 
 
 Jonah n. 7. 
 
 prayer came in unto thee, into thy holy tem- 
 ple." Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me where- 
 fore thou art come. 
 
 MERCY. I am come for that unto which I 
 her fainting was never invited, as my friend Christiana was. 
 Hers was from the King, and mine was but from 
 her: wherefore I fear I presume. 
 
 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 partaker thereof. 
 
 Then he took her again by the hand, and led her gently 
 
 in, and said, I pray for all them that believe on me, by what 
 
 means soever they come unto me. Then, said 
 
 he to those that stood by, Fetch something, and 
 
 give it Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting. So 
 
 they fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and a while after she 
 
 was revived. 
 
 And now was Christiana, and her boys, and Mercy, re- 
 ceived of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly 
 unto by him. 
 
 Then said they yet further unto him, We are sorry for our 
 sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and further information 
 what we must do. 
 
 I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed: 
 JoAn */ 20 ky word, in the promise of forgiveness; by deed, 
 in the way I obtained it. Take the first from 
 my lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 197 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words 
 
 unto them, whereby they were greatly gladded. He also 
 
 had them up to the top of the gate, and showed 
 
 C see r naf C ar U off! ed tnem ^ wliat deed tlie y Were SEVed, and told 
 
 them withal that that sight they would have 
 again as they went along in the way, to their comfort. 
 
 So he left them a while in a summer-parlor 
 tffctlZL below, where they entered into talk by them- 
 selves; and thus Christiana began: O Lord! 
 how glad am I, that we are got in hither ! 
 
 MERCY. So you w T ell may; but I, of all, have cause to 
 leap for joy. 
 
 CHRIS. I thought, one time, as I stood a"u the gate (be- 
 cause I had knocked and none did answer) that all our 
 labor had been lost; specially when that ugly cur made such 
 a heavy barking at us. 
 
 MERCY. But my worst fear was after I saw that you was 
 
 taken into his favor, and that I was left behind. Now, 
 
 thought I, 'tis fulfilled which is written, "Two 
 
 Matt. xxiv. 41. . 
 
 women shall be grinding together, the one 
 shall be taken and the other left." I had much ado to for- 
 bear crying out, Undone ! undone ! 
 
 And afraid I was to knock any more; but when I looked 
 
 up to what was written over the gate, I took 
 
 *age\9. 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 knocked ? 
 
 Christiana thinks -r 11 j.i j. j.i_ 
 
 her companion I & m sure your knocks w r ere so earnest, that the 
 S S she Uer vei T sound of them made me start r thought 
 
 Matt xi 12 ^ never heard such knocking in all my life; I 
 thought you would have come in by violent 
 hands, or have took the kingdom by storm. 
 
 MERCY. Alas, to be in my case, who that so was could 
 but have done so? You saw that the door was shut upon 
 
198 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, 
 I say, that was so fainthearted 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 
 
 Christ pleased , m j 
 
 with loud and noise, he gave a wonderful innocent smile; I 
 believe what you did pleased him well enough, 
 dtfirst S did know for he showed no sign to the contrary. But I 
 "meet within its marvel in m y heart why he keeps such a dog; 
 %%** had I known that afore, I fear I should not 
 
 would hardly have had heart enough to have ventured mv- 
 
 ever set out. , 
 
 selr in this manner. But now we are in, we 
 are in, and I am glad with all my heart. 
 
 MERCY. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes 
 down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard. I hope 
 he will not take it amiss. 
 
 Ay, do, said the children, and persuade him 
 i'ofTe Tog. to hang him, for we are afraid he will bite us 
 
 when we go hence. 
 So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to 
 the ground on her face before him and worshipped, and said, 
 Let my Lord accept of the sacrifice of praise which I now 
 offer unto him, with the calves of my lips. 
 
 So he said unto her, Peace be to thee; stand up. 
 But she continued upon her face and said, "Righteous 
 , .. , art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee, yet 
 
 Jer. xii. 1. 
 
 let me talk with thee of thy judgments." 
 expostulates Wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a dog in thy 
 
 about the dog. , ., i , p i i i 
 
 yard, at the sight of which, such women and 
 children as we, are ready to fly from thy gate for fear ? 
 
 He answered and said, That dog has an- 
 other owner; he also is kept close in another 
 page so. man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his bark- 
 
 ing ; he belongs to the castle which you see there 
 at a distance, but can come up to the walls of this place. He 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 199 
 
 has frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by 
 the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him 
 doth not keep him of any good-will to me or mine, but with 
 intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that 
 they may be afraid to knock at this gate for entrance. Some- 
 times also he has broken out, and has worried some that I 
 love; but I take all at present patiently. I 
 
 A check to the , . -111 ' 
 
 earned fear of also give my pilgrims timely help, so they are 
 not delivered up to his power, 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 will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawl- 
 ing, barking, and biting too of a dog; and shall a dog a dog 
 in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the 
 profit of pilgrims keep any from coming to me ? I deliver 
 them from the lions, their darling from the power of the dog. 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, I confess my 
 
 Christians when . T i i . T i i T 
 
 wise enough ignorance; I spake what I understood not; I 
 ^iTwMomof acknowledge that thou doest all things well. 
 
 CHRIS. Then Christiana began to talk of 
 
 art e Jg their journey, and to inquire after the way. 
 
 So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set 
 
 them in the way of his steps, according as he had dealt with 
 
 her husband before. 
 
 So I saw in my dream that they walked on their way, and 
 had the weather very comfortable to them. 
 Then Christiana began to sing, saying:- 
 
 Bless 'd be the day that I began 
 
 A pilgrim for to be; 
 And blessed also be that man 
 
 That thereto moved me. 
 'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began 
 
 To seek to live forever: 
 
t 
 
 fn 
 
 200 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 But now I run fast as I can; 
 
 'Tis better late than never. 
 Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, 
 
 Are turned, as we see; 
 Thus our beginning (as one saith) 
 
 Shows what our end will be. 
 
 Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced 
 in the way up which Christiana and her companions were to 
 
 go, a garden, and that garden belonged to him 
 'garden 11 S whose was that barking dog of whom mention 
 
 was made before. And some of the fruit-trees 
 that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall; 
 and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, 
 and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, as 
 
 boys are apt to do, being pleased with the 
 
 The children eat J 
 
 )/ the enemy s trees, and with the fruit that did hang thereon, 
 did plash them, and began to eat. Their 
 mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys 
 went on. 
 
 Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for that fruit is 
 none of ours; but she did not know that they did belong 
 to the enemy; I'll warrant you if she had, she would have 
 been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went 
 on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two 
 bows-shot from the place that led them into the way, they 
 espied two very ill-favored ones coming down 
 Two ill-favored apace ^ meet them Witn tnat Christiana and 
 
 Mercy her friend covered themselves with their 
 veils, and so kept on their journey; the children also went on 
 before; so that at last they met together. Then they that 
 came down to meet them, came just up to the women as if 
 
 they would embrace them ; but Christiana said, 
 Chnstiana U Stand back, or go peaceably by as you should. 
 
 Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded 
 not Christiana's words, but began to lay hands upon 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 201 
 
 them. At that Christiana, waxing very wroth, spurned at 
 
 them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could, did 
 
 what she could to shift them. Christiana again 
 
 Tf-e pilgrims 
 
 struggle said to them, Stand back, and be gone, tor 
 
 with them. , , , . ., 
 
 we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, 
 as ye see, and such too as live upon the charity of our 
 friends. 
 
 ILL-FA v. Then said one of the two of the men, We make 
 no assault upon you for money, but are come out to tell you, 
 that if you will but grant one small request which we shall 
 ask, we will make women of you forever. 
 
 CHRIS. Now Christiana, imagining what they should 
 mean, made answer again, We will neither hear nor regard, 
 nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, cannot 
 stay, our business is a business of life and death. So again 
 she and her companions made a fresh assay to go past them, 
 but they letted them in their way. 
 
 ILL-FAV. And they said, We intend no hurt to your lives, 
 'tis another thing we would have. 
 
 CHRIS. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have us body 
 and soul, for I know 'tis 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 both shrieked out, and cried, Murder! 
 murder! and so put themselves under those 
 
 khe cries out. . . 
 
 Deut. xxii. laws that are provided for the protection or 
 
 23 6 27 
 
 women. But the men still made their ap- 
 proach upon them, with design to prevail against them. 
 They therefore cried out again. 
 
 Now they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at 
 which they came, their voice was heard from 
 
 Tis good to cry * 
 
 out when we are where they were, thither. Vihereiore some of 
 
 the house came out, and knowing that it was 
 
 Christiana's tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by 
 
 that they were got within sight of them the women were in a 
 
202 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 very great scuffle, the children also stood crying by. Then 
 did he that came in for their relief call out 
 co h ^ diever to the ruffians, saying, What is that thing that 
 you do? Would you make my Lord's peo- 
 ple to transgress? He also attempted to take them, but 
 they did make their escape over the wall into 
 
 The ill ones fly 
 
 to the devil the garden 01 the man to whom the great dog 
 
 belonged; so the dog became their protector. 
 This Reliever then came up to the women, and asked them 
 how they did. So they answered, We thank thy Prince, 
 pretty well, only we have been somewhat affrighted; we 
 thank thee also, for that thou earnest in to our help, for 
 otherwise we had been overcome. 
 
 REL. So after a few more words, this Reliever said as 
 
 followeth: I marvelled much when you were entertained at 
 
 the gate above, being ye knew that ye were 
 
 talks to the but weak women, that you petitioned not the 
 
 Lord there for a conductor; then might you 
 
 have avoided these troubles and dangers, for he would have 
 
 granted you one. 
 
 CHRIS. Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken with our 
 
 present blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by 
 
 us; besides, who could have thought that so 
 
 near the King's palace there should have lurked 
 
 such naughty ones ? Indeed it had been well for us had we 
 
 asked our Lord for one; but since our Lord knew 'twould be 
 
 for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us. 
 
 REL. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked 
 
 for, lest by so doing they become of little esteem; but when 
 
 the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, 
 
 We lose for . . 
 
 want of asking m the eyes of him that teels it, that estimate 
 that properly is its due, and so consequently 
 will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a con- 
 ductor, you would not neither so have bewailed that over- 
 sight of yours in not asking for one, as now you have occasion 
 

 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 203 
 
 do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you 
 more wary. 
 
 CHRIS. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess 
 our folly, and ask one? 
 
 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 ba inquired of 
 by them to do it for them : and 'tis a poor thing 
 
 Ezek. xxxvi. 37. ^ >' t TTI i 
 
 that is not worth asking tor. 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 
 
 ller^ Stake f hlank is here! * made account we had now 
 been past all danger, and that we should 
 never see sorrow more. 
 
 CHRIS. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to 
 
 Mercy, may excuse thee much; but as for me, my fault is so 
 
 much the greater, for that I saw this danger 
 
 Christianas before j came Qut Q f ^ doQrs> an( j yet di( j 
 
 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 
 
 drw^epeated. tllese as 6Ver the world tne y Could look, stand 
 
 at my bed's feet, plotting how they might pre- 
 vent my salvation. I will tell you their very words. They 
 said ('twas when I was in my troubles), What shall we do 
 with this woman ? for she cries out, waking and sleeping, for 
 forgiveness : if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall 
 
204 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 own imperfections, 
 so our Lord has taken 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 they had talked away a little more time, 
 they drew nigh to an house which stood in the way, which 
 house was built for the relief of pilgrims ; as you 
 page 33. wil1 find more full y related in the First Part 
 
 of these records of the Pilgrim's Progress. So 
 they drew on towards the house (the house of the Interpreter) , 
 and when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in 
 the house. They then gave ear, and heard, as 
 Interpreters they thought, Christiana mentioned by name. 
 Christiana's For y u 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 Chris- 
 tian'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 com- 
 auh k e n door. mending her, who they little thought stood at 
 
 The door is tne door. At last Christiana knocked as she 
 
 opened to them fo^ done at the gate before. Now when she 
 
 by Innocent. 
 
 had knocked, there came to the door a young 
 damsel, and opened the door and looked, and behold two 
 women 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 205 
 
 a privileged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we 
 now at this door are such; wherefore we pray that we may 
 be partakers of that for which we at this time are come; for 
 the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loath to- 
 night to go any farther. 
 
 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 
 pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way, and these be 
 his four children. This maiden also is my companion, and 
 is going on pilgrimage too. 
 
 INNOCENT. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name) 
 and said to those within, Can you think who is at the door ? 
 , . ., There is Christiana and her children, and her 
 
 Joy in the 
 
 house of the companion, all waiting for entertainment here. 
 
 Interpreter that 
 
 Christiana is Then they leaped for joy, and went and told 
 
 turned pilgrim. ., . r< i .1 i i 
 
 their master. So he came to the door, and 
 looking upon her, he said, Art thou that Christiana whom 
 Christian, the goodman, 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 four children; but now I 
 also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but 
 this. 
 
 INTER. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the 
 man that said to his son, Go, work to-day in 
 
 Matt.xxi. 29. . ' ' . . 
 
 my vineyard: and he said to his rather, 1 will 
 not; but afterwards repented and went. 
 
 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 
 
206 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 a pilgrim. Come, children, come in; come, maiden, come in. 
 So he had them all in to the house. 
 
 So when they were within, they were bidden sit down and 
 rest them; the which when they had done, those that attended 
 
 upon the pilgrims in the house, came into the 
 to see a the S young room to see them. And one smiled, and an- 
 W? other smiled, 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 to Mercy, and bid them all welcome 
 into their master's house. 
 
 After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpre- 
 ter took them into his significant rooms, and showed them 
 
 what Christian, Christiana's husband, had seen 
 
 some time before. Here therefore they saw 
 
 S/34-44. ^ e man m ^ e Ca 8 e tne man an d his dream, 
 the man that cut his way through his enemies, 
 and the picture of the biggest of them all; together with the 
 rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian. 
 This done, and after these things had been somewhat di- 
 gested by Christiana and her company, the Interpreter takes 
 them apart again, and has them first into a 
 
 TTie man with 
 
 the muck-rake room where was a man that could look no way 
 but downwards, with a muck-rake in his hand. 
 There stood also one over his head with a celestial crown in 
 his hand, and proffered to give him that crown for his muck- 
 rake; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but raked 
 to himself the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor. 
 
 Then said Christiana, I persuade myself that I know 
 somewhat the meaning of this; for this is a figure of a man 
 of this world, is it not, good sir ? 
 
 INTER. Thou hast said the right, said he; and his muck- 
 rake doth show his carnal mind. And whereas thou seest 
 him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks and the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 207 
 
 dust of the floor, than to what he says that calls to him from 
 above with the celestial crown in his hand, it is to show that 
 heaven is but as a fable to some, and that things here are 
 counted the only things substantial. Now whereas it was 
 also showed thee, that the man could look no way but 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. 
 ... , CHRIS. Then said Christiana, O deliver me 
 
 Christiana s 
 
 prayer against f rO m this muck-rake ! 
 
 the muck-rake. 
 
 INTER. That prayer, said the Interpreter, 
 
 Prov. xxx. 8. , , . , . . 5j . , /-> 
 
 has lam by till tis almost rusty. Give me 
 not riches," is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand. 
 Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things 
 now looked after. 
 
 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, It is, alas ! 
 too true. 
 
 When the Interpreter had showed 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 again. 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 spider in all this 
 spacious room? Then the water stood in Christiana's eyes, 
 for she was a woman quick of apprehension; and she said, 
 Yes, Lord, there is here more than one; yea, 
 anc * spiders whose venom is far more destruc- 
 tive than that which is in her. The Interpreter 
 then looked pleasantly upon her, and said, Thou hast said 
 
208 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 the truth. This made Mercy blush, and the boys to cover 
 
 their faces, for they all began now to understand the riddle. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again, "The spider taketh hold 
 
 with her hands (as you see), and is in kings' 
 
 palaces." And wherefore is this recorded, but 
 
 interpretation. to s ^ow you that, how full of the venom of sin 
 
 soever you be, yet you may by the hand of 
 
 faith lay hold of, and dwell in the best room that belongs to 
 
 the King's house above ? 
 
 CHRIS. I thought, said Christiana, of something of this; 
 but I could not imagine it all. I thought that we were like 
 spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what fine 
 room soever we were; but that by this spider, this venomous 
 and ill-favored creature, we w r ere to learn how to act faith, 
 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 a while. So one of the chick- 
 ens went to the trough to drink, and every 
 and h chf c e kens. time sne 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 
 
 Matt. xxm. 37. 
 
 towards her chickens: 1. She had a common 
 call, and that she hath all day long. 2. She had a special 
 call, and that she had but sometimes. 3. She had a brooding 
 note. And, 4. She had an outcry. 
 
 Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these 
 chickens to his obedient ones. For answerable to her, him- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 209 
 
 self has his methods which he walketh in towards his people. 
 By his common call he gives nothing; by his special call he 
 always has something to give; he has also a brooding voice, 
 for them that are under his wing; and he has an outcry, to 
 give the alarm when he sees the enemy come. I chose, my 
 darlings, to lead you into the room where such things are, 
 because you are women, and they are easy for you. 
 
 CHRIS. And, Sir, said Christiana, pray let us see some 
 
 more. So he had them into the slaughter-house, where was 
 
 a butcher a-killing of a sheep; and behold the 
 
 ee e p. shee P was ^ uiet ' and to k her death Patiently . 
 
 Then sa'd the Interpreter, You must learn of 
 the sheep to suffer, and to put up wrongs without murmurings 
 and complaints. Behold how quietly she takes her death, 
 and, without objecting, she suffereth her skin to be pulled 
 over her ears. Your King doth call you his sheep. 
 
 After this he led them into his garden, where was great 
 variety of flowers, and he said, Do you see all these? So 
 
 Christiana said, Yes. Then said he again, 
 
 Of the garden. 
 
 Behold, the flowers are diverse in stature, in 
 quality, and color, and smell, and virtue, and some are bet- 
 ter than some; also where the gardener has set them, there 
 they stand, and quarrel not one with another. 
 
 Again, he had them into his field, which he had sowed with 
 wheat and corn; but when they beheld, the tops of all were 
 
 cut off, only the straw remained; he said again, 
 
 Of the field. . . . . 
 
 This ground was dunged, and ploughed, and 
 sowed; but what shall we do with the crop? Then said 
 Christiana, Burn some, and make muck of the rest. Then 
 said the Interpreter again, Fruit, you see, is that thing you 
 look for, and for want of that you condemn it to the fire, 
 and to be trodden under foot of men; beware that in this you 
 condemn not yourselves. 
 
 Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a 
 little robin with a great spider in his mouth. So the Inter- 
 
210 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 preter said, Look here. So they looked, and Mercy won- 
 dered, but Christiana said, What a disparage- 
 and ment is i1: to sucn a little Pretty bird as the 
 robin redbreast is, he being also a bird above 
 many that loveth to maintain a kind of sociableness with 
 man; I had thought they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or 
 upon other such harmless matter. I like him worse than I did. 
 
 The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an emblem very 
 apt to set forth some professors by; for to sight they are as 
 this robin, pretty of note, color, 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, and to be in 
 their company, as if they could live upon the good man's 
 crumbs. They pretend also that therefore it is that they 
 frequent the house of the godly, and the appointments of 
 the Lord; but when they .are by themselves, as the robin, 
 they can catch and gobble up spiders, they can change their 
 diet, drink iniquity, and swallow down sin like water. 
 
 So when they were come again into the 
 
 wSlgei "at that house, because supper as yet was not ready, 
 
 unseated* Christiana again desired that the Interpreter 
 
 would either show or tell of some other 
 
 things that are profitable. 
 
 Then the Interpreter began and said: The fatter the sow 
 is, the more she desires the mire; the fatter the ox is, the 
 more gamesomely he goes to the slaughter; and the more 
 healthy the lusty man is, the more prone he is unto evil. 
 
 There is a desire in women to go neat and fine, and it is a 
 comely thing to be adorned with that that in God's sight is 
 of great price. 
 
 'Tis easier watching a night or two, than ,to sit up a whole 
 year together; so 'tis easier for one to begin to profess well, 
 than to hold out as he should to the end. 
 
 Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will willingly cast that 
 overboard that is of the smallest value in the vessel; but who 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 211 
 
 will throw the best out first ? None but he that f eareth not 
 God. 
 
 One leak will sink a ship, and one sin will destroy a sinner. 
 
 He that forgets his friend is ungrateful unto him, but he 
 that forgets his Saviour is unmerciful to himself. 
 
 He that lives in sin, and looks for happiness hereafter, is 
 like him that soweth cockle, and thinks to fill his barn with 
 wheat or barley. 
 
 If a man would live well, let him fetch his last day to him, 
 and make it always his company-keeper. 
 
 Whispering, and change of thoughts, prove that sin is in 
 the world. 
 
 If the world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing of 
 that worth with men, what is heaven, that God commendeth ? 
 
 If the life that is attended with so many troubles is so loath 
 to be let go by us, what is the life above ? 
 
 Everybody will cry up the goodness of men; but who is 
 there that is, as he should, affected with the goodness of God ? 
 
 We seldom sit down to meat but we eat and leave; so there 
 is in Jesus Christ more merit and righteousness than the 
 whole world has need of. 
 
 When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his 
 
 garden again, and had them to a tree whose inside was all 
 
 rotten and gone, and yet it grew and had 
 
 that is rotten leaves. Then said Mercy, What means this ? 
 
 This tree, said he, whose outside is fair, and 
 
 whose inside is rotten, it is to which many may be compared 
 
 that are in the garden of God; who with their mouths speak 
 
 high in behalf of God, but indeed will do nothing for him; 
 
 whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to 
 
 be tinder for the devil's tinder-box. 
 
 Now supper was ready, the table spread, and 
 
 Juw at a11 things set on the board; so they sat down 
 
 and did eat when one had given thanks. And 
 
 the Interpreter did usually entertain those that lodged with 
 
212 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 him with music at meals, so the minstrels played. There 
 was also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he had. His 
 song was this 
 
 The Lord is only my support, 
 
 And he that doth me feed; 
 How can I then want anything 
 
 Whereof I stand in need? 
 
 When the song and music was ended, the 
 
 Talk at supper. ' ~. . . 
 
 Interpreter asked Christiana what it was that 
 at first did move her to betake herself to a pilgrim's life. 
 
 Christiana answered: First, the loss of my husband came 
 into my mind, at which I was heartily grieved; but all that 
 
 was but natural affection. Then after that 
 
 A repetition of 
 
 Christiana's came the troubles and pilgrimage of my hus- 
 band's into my mind, and also how like a churl 
 I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of my 
 mind, and would have drawn me into the pond, but that op- 
 portunely I had a dream of the well-being of my husband, 
 and a letter sent me by the King of that country where my 
 husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the letter 
 together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to 
 this way. 
 
 INTER. But met you with no opposition afore you set 
 out-of-doors ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes, a neighbor of mine, one Mrs. Timorous (she 
 was akin to him that would have persuaded my husband to 
 go back for fear of the lions). She all-to-be-fooled 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-looked ones, that I thought did plot how to make me mis- 
 carry in my journey, that hath troubled me much; yea, it 
 still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 213 
 
 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 so 
 sorely assaulted that we were made to cry out murder, and 
 the two that made this assault upon us were like the two 
 that I saw in my dream. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is 
 
 to q Me S rcy n PUt g od th y latter end sha11 g reat ly increase. So 
 he addressed himself to Mercy, and said unto 
 her, And what moved thee to come hither, sweetheart? 
 
 Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while con- 
 tinued silent. 
 
 INTER. Then said he, Be not afraid, only believe, and 
 speak thy mind. 
 
 MERCY. So she began and said: Truly, Sir, my want of 
 
 experience is that that makes me covet to be in silence, and 
 
 that also that fills me with fears of coming 
 
 Mercy s answer. . . 
 
 short at last. I cannot tell of visions and 
 dreams as my friend Christiana can, nor know I what it is to 
 mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that were good 
 relations. 
 
 INTER. What was it, then, dear heart, that hath prevailed 
 with thee to do as thou hast done ? 
 
 MERCY. Why, w^hen our friend here was packing up to 
 be gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to 
 see her. So we knocked at the door and went in. When we 
 were within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked what 
 was her meaning. She said she was sent for to go to her 
 husband; and then she up and told us how she had seen him 
 in a dream, dwelling in a curious place, among immortals, 
 wearing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and drinking at 
 his Prince's table, and singing praises to him for bringing 
 him thither, etc. Now methought, while she was telling 
 these things unto us, my heart burned within me; and I said 
 
214 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 in my heart, If this be true, I will leave my father and my 
 mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I may, go 
 along with Christiana. 
 
 So I asked her further of the truth of these things, and if 
 she would let me go with her; for I saw now that there was 
 no dwelling, but with the danger of ruin, any longer in our 
 town. But yet I came away with a heavy heart, not for that 
 I was unwilling to come away, but for that so many of my 
 relations were left behind. And I am come, with all the 
 desire of my heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana unto 
 her husband, and his King. 
 
 INTER. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given credit 
 
 to the truth. Thou art a Ruth, who did, for the love that 
 
 she bore to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, 
 
 Ruth n. 11, 12. 
 
 leave father and mother, and the land of her 
 nativity, to come out, and go with a people that she knew 
 not heretofore. "The Lord recompense thy work, and a full 
 reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose 
 wing thou art come to trust." 
 
 Now supper was ended, and preparations were made for 
 bed : the women were laid singly alone, and the 
 themtekt* boys by themselves. Now when Mercy was in 
 
 bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now 
 ni er h/s S ret d ^ er doubts of missing at last were removed fur- 
 ther from her than ever they were before. So 
 she lay blessing and praising God, who had had such favor 
 for her. 
 
 In the morning they rose with the sun, and prepared them- 
 selves for their departure; but the Interpreter would have 
 them tarry a while, For, said he, you must orderly go from 
 hence. Then said he to the damsel that at 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 215 
 
 brought them to the bath; so she told them that there 
 they must wash and be clean, for so her mas- 
 
 Sanctification * er wou ld 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 
 all; and they came out of that bath not only 
 
 They wash in it. J 
 
 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 
 
 They are sealed. 
 
 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 be known in the 
 places whither they were yet to go. Now the seal was the 
 
 contents and sum of the passover which the 
 
 Exod. xin. 8-10. 
 
 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. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that waited 
 upon these women, Go into the vestry and fetch out garments 
 
 for these people. So she went and fetched out 
 clothed white raiment, and laid it down before him; so 
 
 he commanded them to put it on. Jt was "fine 
 linen, white and clean." When the women were thus 
 adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other; for that 
 they could not see that glory each one^on herself, which they 
 
 could see in each other. Now therefore thev 
 
 Irue humility. 
 
 began to esteem each other better than them- 
 selves. For, you are fairer than I am, said one; and, You 
 are more comely than I am, said another. The children also 
 stood amazed to see into what fashion they were brought. 
 
216 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 The Interpreter then called for a man servant of his, one 
 Great-heart, and bid him take sword, and helmet, and shield; 
 and take these my daughters, said he, and conduct them to 
 the house called Beautiful, at which place they will rest next. 
 So he took his weapons and went before them, and the Inter- 
 preter said, God speed. Those also that belonged to the 
 family sent them away with many a good wish. So they 
 went on their way, and sung 
 
 This place has been our second stage; 
 
 Here we have heard and seen 
 Those good things that, from age to age, 
 
 To others hid have been. 
 
 The dunghill-raker, spider, hen, 
 
 The chicken too to me 
 Hath taught a lesson; let me then 
 
 Conformed. to it be. 
 
 The butcher, garden, and the field, 
 
 The robin and his bait, 
 Also the rotten-tree doth yield 
 
 Me argument of weight. 
 
 To move me for to watch and pray, 
 
 To strive to be sincere, 
 To take my cross up day by day, 
 
 And serve the Lord with fear. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that they went on, and Great- 
 heart went before them. So they went and came to the 
 place where Christian's burden fell off his back, 
 page 45. anc ^ tumbled into a sepulchre. Here then they 
 
 made a pause, and here also they blessed God. 
 Now, said Christiana, it comes to my mind what was said to 
 us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon, by word 
 and deed; by word, that is, by the promise; by deed, to wit, in 
 the way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I 
 know something; but what is it to have pardon by deed, or 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 21? 
 
 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 ob- 
 tained by some one, for another that hath need thereof: not 
 by the person pardoned, but in the way, saith 
 what m w n L?d another, in which I have obtained it. So then.. 
 to s P ea k to tne question more large, the pardon 
 tnat you anc ^ Mercy and these boys have at- 
 tained, was obtained by another, to wit, by him 
 that let you in at the gate: And he hath obtained it in this 
 double way: He has performed righteousness to cover you, 
 and spilt blood to wash you in. 
 
 CHRIS. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what 
 will he have for himself ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. He has more righteousness than you have 
 need of, or than he needeth himself. x 
 
 CHRIS. Pray make that appear. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. With all my heart; but first I must pre- 
 mise, that he of whom we are now about to speak is one that 
 has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain 
 to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of 
 these natures a righteousness belongeth, and each righteous- 
 ness is essential to that nature; so that one may as easily 
 cause the nature to be extinct, as to separate its justice or 
 righteousness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, 
 we are not made partakers so as that they, or any of them, 
 should be put upon us that we might be made just, and live 
 thereby. Besides these, there is a righteousness which this 
 person hath, as these two natures are joined in one. And 
 this is not the righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished 
 from the manhood; nor the righteousness of the manhood, as 
 distinguished from the Godhead; but a righteousness which 
 standeth in the union of both natures, and may properly be 
 called, the righteousness that is essential to his being pre- 
 
218 THE PILGKIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 pared of God to the capacity of the mediatory office which he 
 was to be intrusted with. If he parts with his first righteous- 
 ness, he parts with his Godhead; if he parts with his second 
 righteousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood; if 
 he parts with his third, he parts with that perfection that 
 capacitates him to the office of mediation. He has therefore 
 another righteousness, which standeth hi performance, or 
 obedience to a revealed will; and that is it that he puts upon 
 sinners, and that by which their sins are cov- 
 
 Rom. v. 19. 
 
 ered. Wherefore he saith, "As by one man's 
 disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience 
 of one shall many be made righteous." 
 
 CHRIS. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes; for though they are essential to his 
 natures and office and so cannot be communicated unto an- 
 other, yet it is by virtue of. them that the righteousness that 
 justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The righteousness of 
 his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience; the righteousness 
 of his manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify; 
 and the righteousness that standeth in the union of these 
 two natures to his office, giveth authority to that righteous- 
 ness to do the work for which it is ordained. 
 
 So then, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has 
 no need of, for he is God without it. Here is a righteousness 
 that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he 
 is perfect man without it. Again, here is a righteousness 
 that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is perfectly 
 so without it. Here then is a righteousness that Christ, as 
 God, as man, as God-man, has no need of, with reference to 
 himself, and therefore he can spare it; a justifying righteous- 
 ness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he giveth 
 7 it away; hence 'tis called the "gift of righteous- 
 
 ness." This righteousness, since Christ Jesus 
 the Lord has made himself under the law, must be given 
 away; for the law doth not only bind him that is under it 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 219 
 
 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 Jjpur pardon 
 come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your Lord 
 Christ is he that has worked, and given away what he wrought 
 for, to the next poor beggar he meets. 
 
 But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must some- 
 thing be paid to God as a price, as well as something pre- 
 pared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us up to the 
 just curse of a righteous law; now from this curse we must 
 be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the 
 harms we have done; and this is by the blood 
 
 Rom. iv. 25. ii. 
 
 of your Lord, who came and stood m your 
 
 place and stead, and died your death for your 
 transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your trans- 
 gressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed 
 souls with righteousness; for the sake of which, God passeth by 
 you, and will not hurt you, when he comes to judge the world. 
 CHRIS. This is brave. Now I see that there was some- 
 thing to be learned by our being pardoned by ivord and deed. 
 
 Good Mercy, let us labor to keep this in mind; 
 
 and, my children, do you remember it also. 
 
 But > Sir > was not this ' li that made m y g d 
 
 Christian's burden fall from off his shoulder, 
 and that made him give three leaps for joy ? 
 ., . . GREAT-HEART. Yes, 'twas the belief of this 
 
 How the strings 
 
 that bound that cut those strings that could not be cut by 
 
 Christian's 
 
 burden to him other means, and twas to give him a proof of 
 the virtue of this, that he was suffered to carry 
 his burden to the cross. 
 
 CHRIS. I thought so ; for though my heart was lightf ul and 
 joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous 
 
220 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, though I 
 have felt but little as yet, that if the most burdened man in 
 the world was here, and did see and believe, as I now do, 
 'twould make his heart the more merry and blithe. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. There is not only comfort, and the ease 
 
 of a burden brought to us, by the sight and consideration of 
 
 these, but an endeared affection begot in us by 
 
 How affection to , 
 
 Christ is begot it; tor who can, it he doth but once think that 
 
 in the soul. , i i i 
 
 pardon comes, not only by promise, but thus, 
 but be affected with the way and means of his redemption, 
 and so with the man that hath wrought it for him ? 
 
 CHRIS. True; 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, 
 
 fart l. 
 
 page 45. thou hast bought me : thou deservest to have 
 
 Cause of me all; thou hast paid for me ten thousand 
 
 times more than I am worth. No marvel that 
 this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, and that it 
 made him trudge so nimbly on. I am persuaded he wished 
 me with him ; but, vile wretch that I was ! I let him come all 
 alone. O Mercy, that thy father and mother were here ! yea, 
 and Mrs. Timorous also ! nay, I wish now with all my heart, 
 that here was Madam Wanton too. Surely, surely, their 
 hearts would be affected; nor could the fear of the one, nor 
 the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home 
 again, and to refuse to become good pilgrims. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. You speak now in the warmth of your 
 affections. Will it, think you, be always thus with you? 
 , , . . , Besides, this is not communicated to every one, I 
 
 To be affected 
 
 with Christ, and nO r to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. , 
 
 with what he has 
 
 done, is a thing There was that stood by, and that saw the |i 
 
 blood run from his heart to the ground, and 
 yet were so far off this, that instead of lamenting, they laughed 
 at him; and instead of becoming his disciples, did harden 
 their hearts against him. So that all that you have, my 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 221 
 
 daughters, you have by a peculiar impression made by a 
 divine contemplating upon what I have spoken to you. Re- 
 member that 'twas 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 
 
 Simple, and A M ^i ,1 i ,-i.f^' 
 
 Sloth, and on until they were come to the place that Sim- 
 
 hZ^dvhy. Pi*, and Sloth, and Presumption lay and slept 
 in, when Christian went by on pilgrimage. 
 And behold, they were hanged up in irons, a little way off on 
 the other side. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide 
 and conductor, What are those three men ? and for what are 
 they hanged there? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. These three men were men of very bad 
 qualities, they had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and 
 whosoever they could they hindered. They were for sloth 
 and folly themselves, and whoever they could persuade with, 
 they made so too, and withal taught them to presume that 
 they should do well at last. They were asleep when Chris- 
 tian went by, and now you go by they are hanged. 1 
 
 MERCY. But could they persuade any to be of their 
 opinion ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes; they turned several out of the way. 
 There was Slow-pace that they persuaded to do as they. 
 They also prevailed with one Short-wind, with 
 one No-heart, with one Linger-after-lust, and 
 prevailed upon with one Sleepy-head, and with a young woman, 
 o/ ^h^way ner name was Dull, to turn out of the way and 
 
 become as they. Besides, they brought up an 
 ill report of your Lord, persuading others that he was a task- 
 master. They also brought up an evil report of the good 
 
 1 Behold here how the slothful are a sign, 
 Hung up, 'cause holy ways they did decline. 
 See here, too, how the child did play the man, 
 And weak grow strong, when Great-heart leads the van. 
 
222 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 land, saying 'twas not half as good as some pretend it was. 
 They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the very 
 best of them meddlesome, troublesome busy bodies. Fur- 
 ther, they would call the bread of God husks; the comforts 
 of his children, fancies; the travel and labor of pilgrims, things 
 to no purpose. 
 
 CHRIS. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall 
 never be bewailed by me. They have but what they deserve, 
 and 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 in some plate of iron or . 
 brass, and left here, even where they did their mischiefs, for 
 a caution to other bad men ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. So it is, as you well may perceive if you 
 will go a little to the wall. 
 
 MERCY. No, no, let them hang, and their names rot, and 
 their crimes live forever against them. I think it a high 
 favor that they were hanged afore we came hither; who 
 knows else what they might have done to such poor women 
 as we are ? Then she turned it into a song, saying 
 
 Now then you three, hang there, and be a sign 
 To all that shall against the truth combine. 
 And let him that comes after, fear this end, 
 If unto pilgrims he is not a friend. 
 And thou, my soul, of all such men beware, 
 That unto holiness opposers are. 
 
 Thus they went on till they came at the foot of the Hill 
 
 Difficulty, where, again, their good friend, Mr. Great-heart, 
 
 took an occasion to tell them of what happened 
 
 page 49. there when Christian himself went by. So he 
 
 TM difficult had them first to the spring. Lo, saith he, this 
 
 tiSmfiT* is the spring that Christian drank of before he 
 
 Wzk e xxxiv m i8 went U P tn is hill, and then 'twas clear and good, 
 
 but now 'tis dirty with the feet of some that 
 
 are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 223 
 
 Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow? But said 
 their guide, It will do, if taken up and put into a vessel that 
 is sweet and good; for then the dirt will sink to the bottom, 
 and the water come out by itself more clear. 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 showed them the two byways that were at the 
 foot of the hill, where Formality and Hypocrisy lost them- 
 selves. And, said he, these are dangerous 
 baed h up, h will paths. Two were here cast away when Chris- 
 ^ng^nlhem tian came by-, and although, as you see, these 
 p * rt 50 ways are since stopped up with chains, posts, 
 
 and a ditch, yet there are that will choose to 
 adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this hill. 
 CHRIS. "The way of transgressors is hard." 
 
 Prov. xin. 15. 
 
 'Tis a wonder that they can get into those ways, 
 without danger of breaking their necks. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. They will venture; yea, if at any time any 
 of the King's servants doth happen to see them, and doth 
 call unto them, and tell them that they are in the wrong 
 ways, and do bid them beware the danger, then they will 
 
 railingly return them answer and say, "As for 
 
 Jer. xhv. 16, 17. . 
 
 the word that thou hast spoken unto us in the 
 name of the King, we will not hearken unto thee; but we will 
 certainly do whatsoever thing goeth out of our own mouths," 
 etc. Nay, if you look a little farther, you shall see that these 
 ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, 
 and ditch, and chain, but also by being hedged up; yet they 
 
 will choose to go there. 
 
 Lme r d a o s cho^ CHRIS. They are idle, they love not to take 
 Prw.^iT" 8 ' P ains > up-hill way is unpleasant to them. So 
 
 it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, "The 
 way of the slothful man is as a hedge of thorns." Yea, 
 
224 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 they will rather choose to walk upon a snare than to go up 
 this hill, and the rest of this way to the city. 
 
 Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, and 
 up the hill they went; but before they got to the top, Chris- 
 tiana began to pant, and said, I dare say this 
 is a breathing hill. No marvel if they that 
 love their ease more than their souls, choose to 
 themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit 
 down; also the least of the children began to cry. Come, 
 come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above 
 is the Prince's arbor. Then took he the little boy by the 
 hand, and led him up thereto. 
 
 When they were come to the arbor, they were very willing 
 to sit down, for they were all in a pelting heat. Then said 
 Mercy, How sweet is rest to them that labor ! 
 'arbor!' 11 ** *** And how good is the Prince of pilgrims, to pro- 
 pa^ si v ^ e suc ^ resting-places for them ! Of this 
 arbor I have heard much, but I never saw it 
 
 Matt. Xl. xo. 
 
 before. But here let us beware of sleeping; for, 
 
 as I have heard, for that it cost poor Christian dear. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my 
 
 pretty boys, how do you do ? What think you now of going 
 on pilgrimage? Sir, said the least, I was al- 
 most beat out of heart, but I thank you for 
 l fercy d ahO lending me a hand at my need. And I remem- 
 ber now what my mother has told me, namely, 
 
 That the way to heaven is as up a ladder, and the way to 
 
 hell is as down a hill. But I had rather go up the ladder to 
 
 life, than down the hill to death. 
 
 Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, To go down the hill 
 
 is easy. But James said (for that was his name), The day is 
 coming, when, in my opinion, going down-hill 
 
 hardest, up-hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said 
 his master; thou hast given her a right answer. 
 
 Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 225 
 
 CHRIS. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a little 
 to sweeten your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs ? 
 
 For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which 
 'themselves^ Mr. Interpreter put in my hand, just when I 
 
 came out of his doors. He gave me also a piece 
 of an 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 Mercy, it shall 
 still be as I said it should, when at first we came from home : 
 Thou shalt be a sharer in all the good that I have, because 
 thou so willingly didst become my companion. Then she 
 gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the boys. 
 And said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, Sir, will you do as 
 we? But he answered, You are going on pilgrimage, and 
 presently I shall return; much good may what you have do 
 to you : at home I eat the same every day. Now when they 
 had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their 
 guide said to them, The day wears away; if you think good, 
 let us prepare to be going. So they got up to go, and the 
 
 little boys went before. But Christiana forgot 
 
 Christiana , , , 
 
 forgets her bottle to take her bottle of spirits with her, so she 
 sent her little boy back to fetch it. Then said 
 Mercy, I think this is a losing place. Here Christian lost 
 his roll, and here Christiana left her bottle behind her: Sir, 
 what is the cause of this ? So their guide made answer and 
 said, The cause is sleep or forgetf ulness : some sleep, when 
 they should keep awake ; and some forget, when they should 
 remember; and this is the very cause why often at the rest- 
 ing-places some pilgrims in some things come off losers. 
 Pilgrims should watch, and remember what 
 they have already received under their greatest 
 pages 1 si-54 enjoyments; but for want of doing so, ofttimes 
 their rejoicing ends in tears, and their sunshine 
 in a cloud: Witness the story of Christian at this place. 
 When they were come to the place where Mistrust and 
 
226 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear 
 of the lions, they perceived as it were a stage, and before it, 
 towards the road, a broad plate, with a copy of verses written 
 thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that 
 stage in that place, rendered. The verses were these 
 
 Let him that sees this stage take heed 
 
 Unto his heart and tongue; 
 Lest if he do not, here he speed 
 
 As some have long agone. 
 
 The words underneath the verses were, This stage was 
 built to punish such upon, who, through timorousness or 
 mistrust, shall be afraid to go farther on pilgrimage. Also, 
 on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burned 
 through the tongue with an hot iron, for endeavoring to hin- 
 der Christian in his journey. 
 
 Then said Mercy, This is much like to the saying of the 
 Beloved, "What shall be given unto thee? or 
 
 Pa. cxx. 3, 4. 
 
 what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue ? 
 Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper." 
 
 So they went on, till they came within sight of the lions. 
 Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid 
 
 of a lion; but yet, when they were come up to 
 pages 54, 55. the place where the lions were, the boys that 
 An emblem of went before were glad to cringe behind, for 
 
 the y were afraid of the lions; so they stepped 
 
 there is no back, and went behind. At this their guide 
 
 danger, out 
 
 shrink when smiled, and said. How now, my boys, do you 
 
 troubles come. . 
 
 love to go before, when no danger doth ap- 
 
 proach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear ? 
 
 Now as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, 
 
 with intent to make a way for the pilgrims in 
 ^iant^nfof 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' guide, What 
 is the cause of your coming hither ? Now the name of that 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 227 
 
 man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of 
 pilgrims, and he was of the race of the giants. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said the pilgrims' guide, These 
 women and children are going on pilgrimage, and this is the 
 way they must go, and go it they shall in spite of thee and 
 the lions. 
 
 GRIM. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. 
 I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will back 
 the lions. 
 
 Now to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, 
 and of the grim carriage of him that did back them, this 
 way had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost all 
 grown over with grass. 
 
 CHRIS. Then said Christiana, Though the highways have 
 
 been unoccupied heretofore, and though the travellers have 
 
 been made in time past to walk through by- 
 
 Judges v. 6, 7. . 
 
 paths, it must not be so now I am risen. Now 
 "I am risen a mother in Israel." 
 
 GRIM. Then he swore by the lions, but it should; and 
 therefore bid them turn aside, for they should 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. 'Tis the King's highway that we are in, 
 
 and in his way it is that thou hast placed thy lions ; but these 
 
 women, and these children, though weak, shall 
 
 betwixt Grim hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And 
 
 with that he gave him again a downright blow, 
 
 and brought him upon his knees. With this blow he also 
 
 broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off 
 
 The victory. 
 
 an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, 
 that his voice frighted the women ; and yet they were glad to 
 
228 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were 
 
 chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. Wherefore, 
 
 when old Grim, that intended to back them, was dead, Mr. 
 
 Great-heart said to the pilgrims, Come now and follow me, 
 and no hurt shall happen to you from the lions. 
 
 Jhelions 3 . 8 bv The y therefore went on, but the women trem- 
 bled 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, because 'tis dangerous 
 
 They come to **''*'' i ' i 
 
 the Porters travelling there in the night. So when they 
 
 were come to the gate, the guide knocked, and 
 the Porter cried, Who is there? But as soon as the guide 
 bad said, It is I, he knew his voice, and came down (for the 
 guide had oft before that corne thither as a conductor of pil- 
 grims). When he was come down, he opened the gate, and 
 seeing the guide standing just before it (for he saw not the 
 women, for they were behind him) he said unto him, How 
 now, Mr. Great-heart ? what is your business here so late to- 
 night ? I have brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where 
 by my Lord's commandment, they must lodge. I had been 
 here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the giant 
 that did use to back the lions; but I, after a long and tedious 
 combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the 
 pilgrims hither in safety. 
 
 PORTER. Will you not go in, and stay till morning ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. No; I will return to my 
 
 JSreat-heart -r i . i , 
 
 attempts to go Lord to-night. 
 
 j$riJt*to CHRIS. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be will- 
 ^company j n g vou s h ou ld leave us in our pilgrimage; you 
 have been so faithful and so loving to us, you 
 have fought so stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in 
 counselling of us, that I shall never forget your favor towards 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 229 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy 
 company to our journey's end ! How can such poor women 
 as we, hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, 
 without a friend and defender? 
 
 JAMES. Then said James, the youngest of the boys, Pray, 
 Sir, be persuaded to go with us, and help us, because we are 
 so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I am at my Lord's commandment. If he 
 
 shall allot me to be your guide quite through, I will willingly 
 
 wait upon you. But here you failed at first; 
 
 Help lost /o." H ii-i Ii t -^ 
 
 want of asking for when he bid me come thus far with you, 
 
 then you should have begged me of him to 
 have gone quite through with you, and he would have granted 
 your request. However, at present I must withdraw; and 
 so, good Christiana, Mercy, and my brave children, Adieu. 
 
 Then the Porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Christiana of her 
 country, and of her kindred. And she said, I came from the 
 
 City of Destruction, I am a widow woman, and 
 T>age 55. my husband is dead, his name was Christian 
 
 Christiana makes the pilgrim. How, said the Porter; was he 
 th?ptt7e t0 y ur husband? Yes, said she, and these are 
 damsel 10 ^* s children; and this, pointing to Mercy, is one 
 
 of my towns women. 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 her children, are come 
 
 Joy at the noise . . 
 
 of 'the pilgrims' hither on pilgrimage. She went in, therefore, 
 and told it. But oh ! what a noise for gladness 
 
 was there within, when the damsel did but drop that word 
 
 out of her mouth. 
 
 So they came with haste to the Porter, for 
 
 l h kinddanl Christiana stood still at the door. Then some 
 
 another *"* ^ *-he most grave said unto her, Come in, Chris- 
 
 tiana; come in, thou wife of that good man; 
 
 come in, thou blessed woman; come in, with all that are with 
 
230 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 large room, where they were 
 bidden to sit down; so they sat down, and the chief of the 
 house was called to see, and welcome the guests. Then they 
 came in, and understanding who they were, did salute each 
 other with a kiss, arid said, Welcome, ye vessels of the grace 
 of God; welcome to us your friends. 
 
 Now because it was somewhat late, and because the pil- 
 grims were weary with their journey, and also made faint 
 with the sight of the fight, and of the terrible lions, therefore 
 they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest- 
 Nay, said those of the family, refresh yourselves first with a 
 morsel of meat. For they had prepared for 
 
 Exod. xii. 38. . 
 
 them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce be- 
 longing thereto ; for the Porter had heard before 
 of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when 
 they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they 
 desired they might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, 
 if we may be so bold as to choose, be in that 
 page 64. chamber that was my husband's when he was 
 
 fo k r r all ^pilgri^s" here - So ^ e y had tnem U P thither, and they 
 lay all in a room. When they were at rest, 
 Christiana and Mercy entered into discourse about things 
 that were convenient. 
 
 CHRIS. 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 
 with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with 
 him, and yet now I believe I shall. 
 
 MERCY. Hark ! don't you hear a noise ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes; 'tis, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy 
 that we are here. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 231 
 
 MERCY. Wonderful ! Music in the house, music in the 
 heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that 
 
 Music. J J 
 
 we are here. 
 
 Thus they talked a while, and then betook themselves to 
 sleep. So in the morning, when they were awake, Christiana 
 said to Mercy: 
 
 CHRIS. What was the matter, that you did 
 ** laugh in your sleep to-night? I suppose you 
 
 were in a dream. 
 
 MERCY. So I was, and a sweet dream it was; but are you 
 sure I laughed ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes; you laughed heartily: but prithee, Mercy, 
 tell me thy dream. 
 
 MERCY. I was a-d reaming that I sat all 
 
 Mercys dream. . . 
 
 alone in a solitary place, and was bemoaning of 
 the hardness of 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 be- 
 Treafrfwas. moaning 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- 
 thought I looked up, and saw one coming with wings towards 
 me. So he came directly to me, and said, Mercy, what ail- 
 eth thee ? Now when he had heard me make my complaint, 
 he said, "Peace be to thee." He also wiped mine eyes with 
 his handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He put a 
 
 chain about my neck, and earrings in mine 
 
 Ezek. xm. 8-11. * 
 
 ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head. 
 Then he took me by the hand, and said, Mercy, come after 
 me. So he went up, and I followed, till we came at a golden 
 gate. Then he knocked; and when they within had opened, 
 the man went in and I followed him up to a throne, upon 
 which one sat, and he said to me, Welcome, daughter. The 
 place looked bright, and twinkling like the stars, or rather 
 
232 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 like the sun, and I thought that I saw your husband there. 
 So I awoke from my dream. But did I laugh ? 
 
 CHRIS. Laugh ! ay, and well you might, to see yourself so 
 
 well. For you must give me leave to tell you, that I believe it 
 
 was a good dream ; and that, as you have begun 
 
 second at last. "God speaks once, yea twice, 
 yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the 
 night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumbering upon 
 the bed." We need not, when abed, lie awake to talk with 
 God; he can visit us while we sleep, and cause us then to 
 hear his voice. Our heart ofttimes wakes when we sleep; 
 and God can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by 
 signs and similitudes, as well as if one was awake. 
 
 MERCY. Well, I am glad of my dream, for 
 her r Seam d f l h P e ere lon g to see li fulfilled, to the making 
 of me laugh again. 
 
 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 a while, let us will- 
 ingly accept of the proffer. I am the willinger to stay a 
 while here, to grow better acquainted with these maids; me- 
 thinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and 
 sober countenances. 
 
 CHRIS. We shall see what they will do. So when they 
 were up and ready, they came down; and they asked one 
 another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not. 
 
 MERCY. Very good, said Mercy; it was one of the best 
 night's lodging that ever I had in my life. 
 
 Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be 
 Jome time *"** persuaded to stay here a while, you shall have 
 what the house will afford. 
 
 CHAR. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity. 
 So they consented, and stayed there about a month or above, 
 and became very profitable one to another. And because 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 233 
 
 Prudence would see how Christiana had brought up her 
 
 children, she asked leave of her to catechise 
 
 ? aSis d e esireS them. So she gave her free consent. Then 
 
 chtidreT"'* sne began at the youngest, whose name was 
 
 James. 
 
 PRUD. And she said, Come, James, canst thou tell who 
 made thee? 
 
 James catechised. ^ii-ni s^ i i n i 
 
 JAMES. God the Father, God the Son, and 
 God the Holy Ghost. 
 
 PRUD. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saves thee? 
 
 JAMES. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 PRUD. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father 
 save thee? 
 
 JAMES. By his grace. 
 
 PRUD. How doth God the Son save thee? 
 
 JAMES. By his righteousness, death, and blood, and life. 
 
 PRUD. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee? 
 
 JAMES. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by 
 his preservation. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be com- 
 mended for thus bringing your children. I suppose I need 
 not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them 
 can answer them so well. I will therefore now apply myself 
 to the youngest next. 
 
 PRUD. Then she said, Come, Joseph (for his 
 catechised. name was Joseph), will you let me catechise 
 
 you? 
 
 JOSEPH. With all my heart. 
 
 PRUD. What is man? 
 
 JOSEPH. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as my 
 brother said. 
 
 PRUD. What is supposed by this word "saved"? 
 
 JOSEPH. That man by sin has brought himself into a state 
 of captivity and misery. 
 
234 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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, etc., and the everlasting happiness of his creature. 
 
 PRUD. Who 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 has said unto thee. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the eldest but one: 
 PRUD. Come, Samuel, are you willing that 
 catted. ! should catechise you also ? 
 
 SAMUEL. Yes, forsooth, if you please. 
 
 PRUD. What is heaven? 
 
 SAM. A place and state most blessed, because God dwell- 
 eth there. 
 
 PRUD. What is hell? 
 
 SAM. A place and state most woful, because it is the 
 dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. 
 
 PRUD. Why wouldest thou go to heaven ? 
 
 SAM. That I may see God, and serve him without weari- 
 ness; that I may see Christ, and love him everlastingly; that 
 I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in me, that I can 
 by no means here enjoy. 
 
 PRUD. A very good boy also, and one that has learned well. 
 Then she addressed herself to the eldest, 
 catwhised whose name was Matthew ; and she said to him, 
 
 Come, Matthew, shall I also catechise you ? 
 
 MATT. With a very good will. 
 
 PRUD. I ask then, if there was ever anything that had a 
 being antecedent to, or before God ? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 235 
 
 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 what you 
 understand ? 
 
 MATT. Yes; a great deal. 
 
 PRUD. W T hat 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 resurrection of 
 the dead ? 
 
 MATT. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried, 
 the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe 
 t4iis upon a double account: First, because God has prom- 
 ised it; Secondly, because he is able to perform it. 
 
 Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still hearken 
 to your mother, for she can learn you more. You must also 
 diligently give ear to what good talk you shall 
 n upon hear from others, for, for your sakes do they 
 
 Itblvs hisin9 f s P eak good thin S s - Observe, also, and that 
 with carefulness, what the heavens and the 
 earth do teach you; but especially be much in the meditation 
 of that book that was the cause of your father's becoming a 
 pilgrim. I for my part, my children, will teach you what I 
 can while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me 
 questions that tend to godly edifying. 
 
 Now by that these pilgrims had been at this 
 sweetheart place a week, Mercy had a visitor that pre- 
 tended some good-will unto her, and his name 
 was Mr. Brisk; a man of some breeding, and that pretended 
 
236 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 there- 
 fore the more alluring. 
 
 Her mind also was, to be always busying of herself in 
 
 doing; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would 
 
 be making of hose and garments for others, and 
 
 Mercy s temper, 
 
 would bestow them upon them that had need. 
 And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she disposed of 
 what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for that he found 
 her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth 
 he to himself. 
 
 Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that 
 were of the house, and inquired of them con- 
 maid* earning him, for they did know him better than 
 
 she - So the y told her that he was a ver y bug y 
 
 young man, and one that pretended to religion, 
 but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which 
 was good. 
 
 Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him; for I 
 purpose never to have a clog to my soul. 
 
 Prudence then replied, that there needed no great matter 
 of discouragement to be given to him, 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 ! always 
 
 Talk betwixt a ^ ^ <? Yes, said she, either for myself, or for 
 
 Mercy and others. And w r hat canst thou earn a day ? 
 
 quoth he. I do these things, said she, "that I 
 
 1 Tim. ri/17-19. , . , . , , . 
 
 may be rich in good works, laying up m store 
 a good foundation against the time to come, that I may lay 
 
 hold on eternal life." Why, prithee, what dost 
 and f why ke ' her ' thou with them? said he. Clothe the naked, 
 
 said she. With that his countenance fell. So 
 he forbore to come at her again. And when he was asked 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 237 
 
 the reason why, he said that Mercy was a pretty lass, but 
 troubled with ill conditions. 
 
 When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I 
 not tell thee that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake 
 
 W^rcyln^ thee ? y ea he wil1 raise U P an il] re P rt f the6 ' 
 
 Ti d mer V ^ or notwithstanding his pretense to religion, 
 and his seeming love to Mercy, yet Mercy and 
 he are of tempers so different, that I believe they will never 
 come together. 
 
 MERCY. I might have had husbands afore now, though I 
 spake not of it to any; but they were such as did not like my 
 conditions, though never did any of them find fault with my 
 person. So they and I could not agree. 
 
 PRUD. Mercy in our 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 me as a husband. 
 For I cannot change my nature, and to have 
 resolution. ne that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose 
 
 Haw Mercy's never to admit of, as long as I live. I had a 
 sister was served s i s t e r named Bountiful, that was married to 
 
 by her husband. 
 
 one of these churls; but he and she could never 
 agree; but because my sister was resolved to do as she had 
 begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her 
 husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned 
 her out of his doors. 
 
 PRUD. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you ? 
 MERCY. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he, 
 the world is now full : but I am for none of them all. 
 
 Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and 
 his sickness was sore upon him, for he was 
 Matthew falls mucn pa i ne d ' m } ns bowels, so that he was with 
 it, at times, pulled as 'twere both ends to- 
 gether. There dwelt also not far from thence, one Mr. Skill, 
 
238 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 an ancient and well-approved physician. So Christiana de- 
 sired it, and they sent for him, and he came. When he was 
 entered the room, and had a little observed the boy, he con- 
 Gri es of eluded that he was sick of the gripes. Then 
 
 conscience. h e said to his mother, What diet has Matthew 
 
 The physicians of late fed upon ? Diet ! said Christiana, noth- 
 ing but that which is wholesome. The physi- 
 cian answered, This boy has been tampering with something 
 that lies in his maw undigested, and that will not away with- 
 out means. And I tell you that he must be purged, or else 
 he will die. 
 
 SAM. Then said Samuel, Mother, mother, what was that 
 
 which my brother did gather up and eat, so soon as w T e were 
 
 come from the gate that is at the head of this 
 
 mother m'mind way? You know that there was an orchard 
 
 brother r did eat. n the left liand n the tller side f the Wal1 ' 
 
 and some of the trees hung over the wall, and 
 my brother did plash and did eat. 
 
 CHRIS. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take 
 thereof, and did eat; naughty boy as he was, I did chide him, 
 and yet he would eat thereof. 
 
 SKILL. I knew he had eaten something that was not 
 wholesome food; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the 
 most hurtful of all. It is the fruit of Beelzebub's orchard. 
 I do marvel that none did warn you of it; many have died 
 thereof. 
 
 CHRIS. Then Christiana began to cry; and she said, O 
 naughty boy ! and O careless mother ! what shall I do for my 
 son? 
 
 SKILL. Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may 
 do well again, but he must purge and vomit. 
 
 CHRIS. Pray, sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, 
 whatever it costs. 
 
 SKILL. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. So he made 
 him a purge; but it was too weak. 'Twas said it was made 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 239 
 
 of the blood of a goat, the ashes of an heifer, and with some 
 
 Potion prepared ^ tne J u * ce ^ hyssop, etc - When Mr. Skill 
 had seen that that purge was too weak, he 
 
 Heb. x. 1-4. 11- 
 
 made him one to the purpose, twas made ex 
 
 The Latin I . ,-.., , i - 
 
 borrow. came et sanguine Chnsti (you know physi- 
 
 cians give strange medicines to their patients), 
 
 and it was made up into pills, with a promise or two, and a 
 proportionable quantity of salt. Now he was 
 to take them three at a time fasting, in half a 
 quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. 
 
 take \he ^xic When tn ^ s Pti n was prepared and brought 
 to the boy, he was loath to take it, though torn 
 
 with the gripes, as if he should be pulled in pieces. Come, 
 
 come, said the physician, you must take it. It goes against 
 
 Z h xii 10 mv stomacn sa ^ tne boy. I must have you 
 
 take it, said his mother. I shall vomit it up 
 
 again, said the boy. Pray, sir, said Christiana to Mr. Skill, 
 
 how does it taste? It has no ill taste, said the doctor; and 
 
 with that she touched one of the pills with the 
 
 The mother 
 
 tastes it, and tip of her tongue. Oh, Matthew, said she, this 
 potion is sweeter than honey. If thou lovest 
 thy mother, if thou lovest thy brothers, if thou lovest Mercy, 
 if thou lovest thy life, take it. So with much ado, after a 
 short prayer for the blessing of God upon it, he took it, and 
 it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, it 
 caused him to sleep and rest quietly, it put him into a fine 
 heat and breathing sweat, and did quite rid him of his 
 
 AvordofGod 
 
 in the hand of So in little time he got up, and walked about 
 
 with a staff, and would go from room to room, 
 and talk with Prudence, Piety, and Charity of his distemper, 
 and how he was healed. 
 
 ... _ So when the boy was healed, Christiana 
 
 asked Mr. Skill saying, Sir, what will content 
 
 you for your pains and care to and of my child ? And he 
 
240 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 said, You must pay the Master of the College of Physicians, 
 according to rules made, in that case, and provided. 
 
 CHRIS. But, Sir, said she, what is this pill good for else? 
 SKILL. It is an universal pill; 'tis good 
 universal Remedy, against all the diseases that pilgrims are inci- 
 dent to, and when it is well prepared, it will 
 keep good, time out of mind. 
 
 CHRIS. Pray, Sir, make me up twelve boxes of them, for 
 if I can get these, I will never take other physic. 
 
 SKILL. These pills are good to prevent diseases, as well 
 
 as to cure when one is sick. Yea, I dare say it, and stand to 
 
 John vi so ^> that ^ a man w iM DU ^ use this physic as he 
 
 should, it will make him live forever. But, 
 
 In a glass of 
 
 the tears of good Christiana, thou must give these pills no 
 
 other way but as I have prescribed; fcr if you 
 do, they will do no good. So he gave unto Christiana physic 
 for herself, and her boys, and for Mercy, and bid Matthew 
 take heed how he eat any more green plums, and kissed them 
 and went his way. 
 
 It was told you before that Prudence bid the boys, that if at 
 
 any time they would, they should ask her some questions that 
 
 might be profitable, and she would say something to them. 
 
 MATT. Then Matthew, who had been sick, 
 
 Of physic. 
 
 asked her, Why, for the most part, physic 
 should be bitter to our palates ? 
 
 PRUD. To show how unwelcome the Word of God and the 
 effects thereof are to a carnal heart. 
 
 MATT. Why does physic, if it does good, 
 
 P ur S e > 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. 
 Of fire and MATT. What should we learn by seeing the 
 
 flame of our fire go upwards ? and by seeing the 
 beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards? 
 PRUD. By the going up of the fire we are taught to ascend 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 241 
 
 to heaven by fervent and hot desires; and by the sun sending 
 his heat, beams, and sweet influences downwards, we are 
 taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reaches 
 down with his grace and love to us below. 
 
 MATT. Where have the clouds their water ? 
 
 Of the clouds. 
 
 PRUD. Out ot the sea. 
 MATT. What may we learn from that ? 
 PRUD. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from 
 God. 
 
 MATT. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth? 
 PRUD. To show that ministers should give out what they 
 know of God to the world. 
 
 MATT. Why is the rainbow caused by the 
 
 Of the rainbow. 
 
 sun? 
 
 PRUD. To show that the covenant of God's grace is con- 
 firmed to us in Christ. 
 
 MATT. Whv do the springs come from the 
 
 Of the springs. 
 
 sea to us through the earth ? 
 
 PRUD. To show that the grace of God comes to us through 
 the body of Christ. 
 
 MATT. Why do some of the springs rise out of the tops 
 of high hills? 
 
 PRUD. To show that the spirit of grace shall spring up 
 in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many that 
 are poor and low. 
 
 MATT. Why doth the fire fasten upon the 
 
 Of the candle. ' 
 
 candle-wick : 
 
 PRUD. To show that unless grace doth 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 show that body, and soul, and all, should be 
 at the service of, and spend themselves to maintain in good 
 condition that grace of God that is in us. 
 
 MATT. Why doth the pelican pierce her own 
 breast with her bill? 
 
242 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 PRUD. To nourish her young ones with her blood, and 
 thereby to show that Christ the blessed so loveth his young, 
 his people, as to save them from death by his blood. 
 
 ock MATT. What may one learn by hearing the 
 
 cock to crow? 
 
 PRUD. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's repen- 
 tance. The cock's crowing shows also that day is coming on ; 
 let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last 
 terrible day of judgment. 
 
 Now about this time their month was out: wherefore they 
 signified to those of the house that 'twas convenient for them 
 
 to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his 
 U mother, It is convenient that you forget not to 
 
 send to the house of Mr. Interpreter to pray 
 
 him to grant that Mr. Great-heart should be 
 sent unto us, that he may .be our conductor the rest of our 
 way. Good boy, said she, I had almost forgot. So she drew 
 up a petition, and prayed Mr. Watchful the Porter to send 
 it by some fit man to her good friend Mr. Interpreter; who, 
 when it was come, and he had seen the contents of the peti- 
 tion, said to the messenger, Go tell them that I will send 
 him. 
 
 When the family where Christiana w r as saw that they had 
 a purpose to go forward, they called the whole house together, 
 
 to give thanks to their King for sending of 
 to be gone them such profitable guests as these. Which 
 
 done, they said to Christiana, And shall we 
 not show thee something, according as our custom is to do 
 to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art 
 upon the way? So they took Christiana, her children, and 
 
 Mercy, into the closet, and showed them one 
 
 of the apples that Eve did eat of, and that she 
 
 fs amazing* also did S ive to her husband, and that for 
 Gen. m. 6. ^ ne ea ting of which they both were turned out 
 
 Kom. vn. z4. 
 
 of Paradise, and asked her what she thought 
 that was? Then Christiana said, 'Tis food or poison, I 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 243 
 
 know not which. So they opened the matter to her, and she 
 held up her hands and wondered. 
 
 Then they had her to a place, and showed her Jacob's lad- 
 der. Now at that time there were some angels ascending 
 upon it. So Christiana looked, and looked, to 
 
 Jacob s ladder. 
 
 see the angels go up; and so did the rest of the 
 company. Then they were going into another place to show 
 them something else; but James said to his mother, Pray bid 
 A sight of Chnst them stav ^ ere a little longer, for this is a curi- 
 is taking. O us sight. So they turned again, and stood 
 
 Gen. xxvm. 12. ,.,. . , ,. _ 
 
 John i. 51. feeding their eyes with this so pleasant a pros- 
 
 pect. After this, they had them into a place 
 where did hang up a golden anchor, so they bid 
 Christiana take it down; For, said they, you shall have it 
 with you, for 'tis of absolute necessity that you should, that 
 you may lay hold of that within the veil, and stand steadfast, 
 in case you should meet with turbulent weather : So they were 
 glad thereof. Then they took them, and had 
 offering u them to the mount upon which Abraham our 
 ot*?am. 9. father had offered up Isaac his son, and showed 
 them the altar, the wood, the fire, and the 
 knife, for they remain to be seen to this very day. When 
 they had seen it, they held up their hands and blessed them- 
 selves, and said, Oh, what a man for love to his Master, and 
 for denial to himself, was Abraham. After they 
 vi^inals' 3 had showed them all these things, Prudence took 
 
 them into the dining-room, where stood a pair 
 of excellent virginals: so she played upon them, and turned 
 what she had showed them into this excellent song, saying: 
 
 Eve's apple we have showed you, 
 
 Of that be you aware; 
 You have seen Jacob's ladder, too, 
 
 Upon which angels are. 
 An anchor you received here; 
 
 But let not these suffice, 
 Until with Abra'm you have gave 
 
 Your best, a sacrifice. 
 
244 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Now about this time one knocked at the door; so the Por- 
 ter opened, and behold Mr. Great-heart was there. But 
 when he was come in, what joy was there ! For 
 li came now fresn again into their minds, how 
 but a while ago he had slain old Grim Bloody- 
 man the giant, and had delivered them from the lions. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana, and to Mercy, 
 , . My Lord has sent each of you a bottle of 
 
 He brings a 
 
 token from kis wine, and also some parched corn, together 
 
 Lord vnth him. . . . . 
 
 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 Pru- 
 dence 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 saith 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 is, and to be our conductor. 
 
 Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much obliged 
 
 to you for all the kindnesses that you have showed me since 
 
 . . I came hither; and also for that you have been 
 
 Lnristiana takes 
 
 her leave of the so loving and kind to my children. I know not 
 how to gratify your kindness; wherefore pray, 
 as a token of my respects to you, accept of this small mite. 
 So she put a gold angel in his hand, and he made her a low 
 obeisance, and sa*id, Let thy garments be al- 
 ways white, and let thy head want no ointment. 
 Let Mercy live, and not die, and let not her 
 works be few. And to the boys he said, Do you fly youthful 
 lusts, and follow after godliness with them that are grave 
 and wise; so shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, 
 

 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 245 
 
 and obtain praise of all that are sober-minded. So they 
 thanked the Porter, and departed. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward until 
 they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety, bethink- 
 ing herself, cried out, Alas ! I have forgot what I intended to 
 'bestow upon Christiana and her companions; I will go back 
 and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was 
 gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way 
 off, on the right hand, a most curious melodious note, with 
 words much like these 
 
 Through all my life thy favor is 
 
 So frankly show'd to me, 
 That in thy house forevermore 
 
 My dwelling-place shall be. 
 
 And, listening still, she thought she heard another answer 
 it, saying 
 
 For why ? The Lord our God is good, 
 
 His Mercy is forever sure; 
 His truth at all times firmly stood, 
 And shall from age to age endure. 
 
 So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that made these 
 curious notes? They are, said she, our country birds; they 
 sing these notes but seldom, except it be at the 
 
 Song ii. 11, 12. 
 
 spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun 
 shines warm, and then you may hear them all day long. I 
 often, said she, go out to hear them; we also ofttimes keep 
 them tame in our house. They are very fine company for us 
 when we are melancholy; also they make the woods, and 
 groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in. 
 
 By this time Piety was come again; so she said to Chris- 
 tiana, Look here, I have brought thee a scheme of all those 
 things that thou hast seen at our house, upon 
 
 Piety bestowelh , *. 
 
 <mething on which thou mayest look when thou nndest thy- 
 
 them at parting. i n i i 
 
 self forgetful, and call those things again to 
 remembrance for thy edification and comfort. 
 
246 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Now they began to go down the hill into the Valley of 
 Humiliation. It was a steep hill, and the way was slippery; 
 
 but they were very careful, so they got down 
 page 68 pretty well. When they were down in the 
 
 valley, Piety said to Christiana, This is the 
 place where Christian your husband met with the foul fiend 
 Apollyon, and where they had that dreadful fight that they 
 had; I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of 
 good courage; as long as you have here Mr. Great-heart to 
 be your guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the bet- 
 ter. So when these two had committed the pilgrims unto 
 the conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went 
 after. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not 
 to be so afraid of this valley, for here is nothing to hurt us, 
 
 unless we procure it to ourselves. 'Tis true, 
 at the Valley Christian did here meet with Apollyon, with 
 
 whom he also had a sore combat: but that fray 
 was the fruit of those slips that he got in his going down the 
 hill; for they that get slips there, must look for combats here. 
 And hence it is that this valley has got so hard a name. For 
 
 the common people, when they hear that some 
 P age 69 frightful thing has befallen such an one in such 
 
 a place, are of an opinion that that place is 
 haunted with some foul fiend or evil spirit; when, alas, it is 
 for the fruit of their doing, that such things do befall them 
 there. 
 
 This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place 
 
 as any the crow flies over; and I am persuaded 
 
 The reason why , . ' ' . J . i 
 
 Christian was so if we Could hit upon it, we might find some- 
 where hereabouts something that might give 
 us an account why Christian was so hardly beset in this 
 place. 
 
 Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder stands a pillar, 
 and it looks as if something was written thereon; let us go 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 247 
 
 and see what it is. So they went, and found there written, 
 
 Let Christian's slips before he came hither, 
 fn^tion il on a S. 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 'tis 
 easier going up than down this hill; and that can be said but 
 of few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave 
 the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory over 
 his enemy: let Him grant that dwelleth above, that we fare 
 no worse, when we come to be tried, than he. 
 
 But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It 
 is the best and most fruitful piece of ground in all those parts. 
 
 It is fat ground, and, as you see, consisteth 
 brave place a 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 
 Son j be delightful to him. Behold how green this 
 
 valley is ; also how beautiful with lilies ! I have 
 
 Men thrive in . 
 
 the Valley of also known many laboring men that have got 
 
 Humiliation. . tl . TT TT .,. . /p 
 
 James iv. 6. good estates in this Valley ot Humiliation (for 
 God resisteth the proud, but gives more, more 
 grace to the humble) ; for indeed it is a very fruitful soil, and 
 doth bring forth by handfuls. Some also have wished that 
 the next way to their Father's house were here, that they 
 might be troubled no more with either hills or mountains to 
 go over: but the way is the way, and there's an end. 
 
 Now as they were going along and talking, they espied a 
 boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean 
 clothes, but of a very fresh and well-favored countenance, 
 and as he sat by himself, he sang. Hark, said Mr. Great- 
 
248 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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; 
 Phil. iv. 12, 13. He that is humble, ever shall 
 
 Have God to be his guide. 
 I am content with what I have, 
 
 Little be it, or much; 
 And, Lord, contentment still I crave, 
 
 Because thou savest such. 
 Eeb. xiii. 5. Fulness to such a burden is 
 
 That go on pilgrimage; 
 Here little, and hereafter bliss, 
 
 Is best from age to age. 
 
 Then said their guide, Do you hear him? I will dare to 
 say that this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of that 
 herb called heartsease 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 mead- 
 r , . . , . ows, for he found the air was pleasant. Be- 
 
 Lnnst, when in 
 
 the flesh, had his sides, here a man shall be free from the noise, 
 
 country house in . i i 
 
 the Valley of and from the hurryings of this life. All states 
 
 are full of noise and confusion, only the Valley 
 
 of Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man 
 
 shall not be so let and hindered in his contemplation, as in 
 
 other places he is apt to be. This is a valley that nobody 
 
 walks in, but those that love a pilgrim's life. And though 
 
 Christian had the hard hap to meet here with Apollyon, and 
 
 to enter with him a brisk encounter, yet I must 
 
 Hos. xn. 4, 5. *.';. 
 
 tell you, that in former times men have met 
 with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this 
 place found the words of life. 
 
 Did I say our Lord had here in former days his country 
 house, and that he loved here to walk? I will add, in this 
 place, and to the people that live, and trace these grounds, he 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 249 
 
 had left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid them at cer- 
 tain seasons, for their maintenance by the way, 
 
 Matt. xi. 29. 
 
 and for their further encouragement to go on 
 in their pilgrimage. 
 
 SAMUEL. Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. 
 Great -heart, Sir, I perceive that in this valley my father and 
 Apollyon had their battle; but whereabout was the fight? for 
 I perceive this valley is large. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Your father had that battle with Apoll- 
 
 yon at a place yonder, before us, in a narrow passage just 
 
 beyond Forgetful Green. And indeed that 
 
 Forgetful Green. . . ,, , 
 
 place is the most dangerous place in all these 
 parts. For if at any time the pilgrims meet with any brunt, 
 it is when they forget what favors they have received, and 
 how unworthy they are of them. This is the place also where 
 others have been hard put to it. But more of the place when 
 we are come to it; for I persuade myself, that to this day 
 there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monu- 
 ment to testify that such a battle there was fought. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this 
 valley, as I have been anywhere else in all our journey; the 
 
 place methinks suits with my spirit. I love to 
 ?we l grace ^e * n sucn P^ aces where there is no rattling with 
 
 coaches, nor rumbling with wheels. Methinks 
 here one may, without much molestation, be thinking what 
 he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the 
 King has called him. Here one may think, and break at 
 heart, and melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become like 
 
 tne fish-P 00 ! 8 f Hesbon. They that go rightly 
 
 Son vii 4 
 
 through this Valley of Baca make it a well; the 
 
 Pa. Ixxxiv. 5-7. 
 
 ram that God sends down from heaven upon 
 
 them that are here also filleth the pools. This 
 
 valley is that from whence also the King will give to them 
 
 vineyards; and they that go through it shall sing (as Chris- 
 
 tian did, for all he met with Apollyon). 
 
250 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 GREAT-HEART. 'Tis true, said their guide. I have gone 
 through this valley many a time, and never was 
 
 I have also been a conductor to several pil- 
 grims, and they have confessed the same, "To this man will 
 I look," saith the King, "even to him that is poor, and of a 
 contrite spirit, and that trembles at my Word." 
 
 Now they were come to the place where the aforementioned 
 
 battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, her 
 
 children, and Mercy, This is the place; on this 
 
 Christian and ground Christian stood, and up there came 
 
 Apollyon against him. And look, did not I 
 ngns of the fe\\ y OU p h ere J s some of vour husband's blood 
 
 battle remain. 
 
 upon these stones to this day ! Behold, also, 
 how here and there are yet to be seen upon the place some 
 of the shivers of Apollyon's broken darts. See also how 
 they did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to 
 make good their places against each other; how also, with 
 their by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces. 
 Verily Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as 
 stout, as could, had he been there, even Hercules himself. 
 When Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next val- 
 ley, 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 fame 
 fal eni f throughout all ages. So, because it stood just 
 
 on the wayside before them, they stepped to it, 
 and read the writing, which, word for word, was this 
 
 Hard by, here was a battle fought, 
 A monument of __ 
 
 Christian's Most strange, and yet most true; 
 
 Christian and Apollyon sought 
 
 Each other to subdue. 
 The man so bravely play'd the man, 
 
 He made the fiend to fly; 
 Of which a monument I stand, 
 
 The same to testify. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 251 
 
 When they had passed by this place, they came upon the 
 borders of the Shadow of Death; and this valley was longer 
 than the other; a place also most strangely 
 page 74 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 a very great 
 
 groaning. They thought also thev did hear 
 Groaning* heard. ' 9 * 
 
 words of lamentation spoken, as or some in ex- 
 treme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the 
 woman also looked pale and wan; but their guide bid them 
 be of good comfort. 
 
 So they went on a little further, and they thought that 
 they felt the ground begin to shake under them, as if some 
 hollow place was there; they heard also a kind 
 ^ hi ssm g 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 thereof 
 
 was fear; so his mother gave him some of that glass of spirits 
 
 that she had given her at the Interpreter's 
 
 house > and three of the p ills that Mr - skm had 
 
 prepared; and the boy began to revive. Thus 
 they went on till they came to about the middle of the val- 
 ley, and then Christiana said, Methinks I see something yon- 
 The fond der u P on the road before us, a thing of such a 
 
 appears. shape such as I have not seen. Then said Jo- 
 
 The pilgrims seph, Mother, what is it ? An ugly thing, 
 
 child, an ugly thing, said she. But, mother, 
 what is it like ? said he. 'Tis like I cannot tell what, said she. 
 And now it was but a little way off. Then said she, It is 
 nigh. 
 
252 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Well, well, said Mr. Great-heart, let them that are most 
 
 afraid keep close to me. So the fiend came on, 
 
 encourages them, and the conductor met it; but when it was 
 
 James iv 7 i us ^ come to him, it vanished to all their sights. 
 
 Then remembered they what had been said 
 
 some time ago: "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you/' 
 
 They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed; but 
 
 they had not gone far before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, 
 
 as she thought, something, most like a lion, and 
 
 A lion. . i'ii 
 
 it came a great padding pace alter; and it had 
 a hollow voice of roaring, and at every roar that it gave it 
 made all the valley echo, and their hearts to ache, save the 
 heart of him that was their guide. So it came up, and Mr. 
 Great-heart went behind, and put the pilgrims all before him. 
 The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great- 
 heart 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 farther. 
 
 Then they went on again, and their conductor did go be- 
 fore them, till they came at a place where was cast up a pit, 
 the whole breadth of the way, and before they 
 $arkness d could be prepared to go over that, a great mist 
 
 and a darkness fell upon them, so that they 
 could not see. Then said the pilgrims, Alas ! now what shall 
 we do? But their guide made answer, Fear not; stand still 
 and see 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 rushing of 
 the enemies, the fire also and the smoke of the pit was much 
 easier to be discerned. Then said Christiana 
 
 Christiana now 
 
 knows what her to Mercy, Now I see what my poor husband 
 went through; I have heard much of this place, 
 but I was never here afore now. Poor man ! he went here all 
 alone in the night; he had night almost quite through the 
 way; also these fiends were busy about him, as if they would 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 253 
 
 have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of, but none can 
 tell what the Valley of the Shadow should mean, until they 
 come in it themselves. "The heart knows its own bitterness, 
 and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." To be here 
 is a fearful thing. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. This is like doing business in great waters, 
 or like going down into the deep; this is like being in the heart 
 
 of the sea, and like going dow r n to the bottoms 
 %ply~ hearCs cf tne mountains; now it seems as if the earth, 
 
 with its bars, were about us forever. "But let 
 them that walk in darkness, and have no light, trust in the 
 name of the Lord, and stay upon their God." For my part, 
 as I have told you already, I have gone often through this 
 valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am, 
 and yet you see I am alive. I w r ould not boast, for that I 
 am not mine own saviour; but I trust we shall have a good 
 deliverance. Come, let us pray for light to Him that can 
 lighten our darkness, and that can rebuke, not only these, 
 but all the Satans in hell. 
 
 So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliver- 
 ance, for there was now no let in their way; no, not there, 
 
 where but now thev were stopped with a pit. 
 
 I hey pray. 
 
 Yet they were not got through the valley; so 
 they went on still, and, behold, great stinks and loathsome 
 smells, to a 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 through 
 
 here as it is to abide here always, and for aught 
 
 ?eplyf tke boys 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, 
 
254 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I 
 did in all my life. Then said the guide, We shall be out by 
 and by. 
 
 So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the 
 
 end of this valley as yet? Then said the guide, Look to 
 
 your feet, for voti shall presently be among the 
 
 Heedless is slam, " i"'iii i p i 
 
 and Take-heed snares. So they looked to their leet, 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 Heed- 
 less, that was agoing this way; he has lain there a great while. 
 There was one Take-heed with him, when he was taken and 
 slain; but he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine how 
 many are killed hereabout, and yet men are so foolishly ven- 
 turous, as to set out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come with- 
 out 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 
 paje/so, si. done it. Now they drew towards the end of 
 Maul a Giant. ^ e wav > an ^ J ust there where Christian had 
 
 seen the cave when he went by, out thence came 
 forth Maul, a Giant. This Maul did use to spoil young pil- 
 grims with sophistry; and he called Great-heart by his name, 
 
 and said unto him, How many times have you 
 rt. been forbidden to do these things ? Then said 
 
 Mr. Great-heart, What things ? What things ! 
 quoth the Giant, you know what things; but I will put an 
 end to your trade. But pray, said Mr. Great-heart, before 
 we fall to it, let us understand wherefore we must fight. Now 
 the women and children stood trembling, and knew not what 
 to do. Quoth the Giant, You rob the country, and rob it 
 with the worst of thefts. These are but generals, said Mr. 
 Great-heart, come to particulars, man. 
 
 Then said the Giant, Thou practisest the craft of a kid- 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 255 
 
 napper, thou gatherest up women and children, and carriest 
 ... them into a strange country, to the weakening 
 
 hod s ministers 
 
 counted as o f my master's kingdom. But now Great-heart 
 
 kidnappers. 
 
 replied: I am a servant of the God of heaven; 
 
 The Giant and , , 
 
 Mr. Great-heart my business is to persuade sinners to repen- 
 tance; I am commanded to do my endeavor to 
 turn men, women, and children from darkness to light, and 
 from the power of Satan to God; and if this be indeed the 
 ground of thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon as thou wilt. 
 
 Then the Giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart went to 
 meet him; and as he went he drew his sword, but the Giant 
 Weak folks' nac ^ a c ^ u ^- ^ without more ado they fell to 
 prayers do Jt, and at the first blow the Giant struck Mr. 
 
 sometimes help 
 
 strong folks Great-heart down upon one of his knees. With 
 
 that the w r omen and children cried out; so Mr. 
 Great-heart, recovering himself, laid about him in full lusty 
 manner, and gave the Giant a wound in his arm. Thus he 
 fought for the space of an hour, to that height of heat, that 
 the breath came out of the Giant's nostrils as the heat doth 
 out of a boiling caldron. 
 
 Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great-heart be- 
 took him to prayer; also the women and children did nothing 
 but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last. 
 
 When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both 
 fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart, with a full blow, fetched 
 the Giant down to the ground. Nay, hold, and 
 ItrucfdoL. let me recover, quoth he. So Mr. Great-heart 
 fairly let him get up. So to it they went again, 
 and the Giant missed but little of ail-to breaking Mr. Great- 
 heart's skull with his club. 
 
 Mr. Great-heart, seeing that, runs to him in the full heat 
 of his spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib; with that 
 the Giant began to faint, and could hold up his club no longer. 
 Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smit the head 
 of the Giant from his shoulders. Then the women and chil- 
 
256 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 dren rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God for the 
 deliverance he had wrought. 
 
 When this was done, they amongst them 
 
 He is slain, . . 
 
 and his head erected a pillar, and fastened the Giant's head 
 thereon, and wrote underneath, in letters that 
 passengers might read 
 
 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 pilgrims' 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 pilgrims (that was the 
 place from whence Christian had the first sight 
 PW si. of Faithful, his brother) . Wherefore here they 
 
 sat down and rested ; they also here did eat and 
 drink, and make merry; for that they had gotten deliverance 
 from this so dangerous an enemy. As they sat thus and did 
 eat, Christiana asked the guide if he had caught no hurt in 
 the battle. Then said Mr. Great-heart, No, save a little on 
 my flesh; yet that also shall be so far from being to my deter- 
 ment, 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. 
 
 CHRIS. But were you not afraid, good Sir, 
 ?he C fights. * when you saw him come out with his club ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. It is my duty, said he, to 
 distrust mine own ability, that I may have reliance on him 
 that is stronger than all. 
 
 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 257 
 
 Master himself was served, and yet he it was that conquered 
 at the last. 
 
 MATT. When you all have thought what you please, I 
 
 think God has been wonderful good unto us, both in bringing 
 
 us out of this valley, and in delivering us out 
 
 Malt, here . J 
 
 admires of the hand of this enemy; for my part, I see 
 
 no reason why we should distrust our God any 
 
 more, since he has now, and in such a place as this, given us 
 
 such testimony of his love as this. 
 
 Then they got up and went forward. Now a little before 
 
 them stood an oak, and under it, when they came to it, they 
 found an old pilgrim fast asleep. They knew 
 
 Old Ilonest i i i i i 
 
 Weep under 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 is none 
 but friends. Yet the old man gets up and stands upon his 
 guard, and will know of them what they were. Then said the 
 guide, My name is Great-heart: I am the guide of these pil- 
 grims, which are going to the Celestial Country. 
 
 HON. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you 
 sometimes takes mercy. I feared that you had been of the com- 
 
 *** P an y f th se that SOme time a g did rob Little- 
 
 faith of his money ; but now I look better about 
 me, I perceive you are honester people. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Whv, what would or could 
 
 Talk between 
 
 Great-heart and you have done to have helped yourself, if we in- 
 deed had been of that company ? 
 
 HON. Done ! why, I would have fought as long as breath 
 had been in me; and had I so done, I am sure you could never 
 have given me the worst on't; for a Christian can never be 
 overcome, unless he shall yield of himself. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Well said, Father Honest, quoth the guide, 
 
258 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 for by this I know thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou 
 hast said the truth. 
 
 HON. And by this also I know that thou knowest what 
 true pilgrimage is, for all others do think that we are the 
 soonest overcome of any. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Well, now we are so happily met, pray let 
 me crave your name, and the name of the place you came 
 from. 
 
 HON. My name I cannot: but I came from the Town of 
 Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond 
 a. the City of Destruction. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Oh ! are you that country- 
 man then ? I deem I have half a guess of you : your name is 
 old Honesty, is it not ? 
 
 So the old gentleman blushed, and said, Not Honesty in 
 the abstract, but Honest is my name, and I wish that my 
 nature shall agree to what I am called. 
 
 HON. But, sir, said the old gentleman, how could you 
 
 guess that I am such a man, since I came from such a place? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I had heard of you before, 
 
 a^e P worsethan by my Master; for he knows all things that are 
 
 farnaL 6 ^ done on the earth: but I have often wondered 
 that any should come from your place, for your 
 town is worse than is the City of Destruction itself. 
 
 HON. Yes; we lie more off from the sun, and so are more 
 cold and senseless; but was a man in a mountain of ice, yet 
 if the Sun of Righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen 
 heart shall feel a thaw; and thus it hath been with me. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I believe it, Father Honest, I believe it; 
 for I know the thing is true. 
 
 Then the old gentleman saluted all the pilgrims with a holy 
 kiss of charity, and asked them of their names, and how they 
 had fared since they set out on their pilgrimage. 
 
 CHRIS. Then said Christiana, My name I suppose you 
 have heard of: good Christian was my husband, and these four 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 259 
 
 were his children. But can you think how the old gentle- 
 man was taken, when she told them who she 
 CMdianatafk. was ! He skipped, he smiled, and blessed them 
 
 with a thousand good wishes, saying: 
 
 HON. I have heard much of your husband, and of his 
 
 travels and wars which he underwent in his days. Be it 
 
 spoken to your comfort, the name of your hus- 
 
 withthe bay*. band rings all over these parts of the world : his 
 
 $^ng n them. faith his courage, his enduring, and his sin- 
 
 ^Ps^xcix 6 cerity under all, have made his name famous. 
 
 Then he turned him to the boys, and asked them 
 
 of their names, which they told him. And then said he unto 
 
 them: Matthew, be thou like Matthew the publican, not in 
 
 vice, but in virtue. Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel the 
 
 prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Joseph, 
 
 said he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, 
 
 chaste, and one that flies from temptation. 
 
 And James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the 
 
 brother of our Lord. 
 
 Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her 
 town and her kindred to come along with Christiana and with 
 her sons. At that, the old honest man said, 
 HeU^sseth Mercy is thy name? by Mercy shalt thou be 
 
 sustained, and carried through all those difficul- 
 ties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come 
 thither where thou shalt look the Fountain of Mercy in the 
 face with comfort. 
 
 All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very much 
 pleased, and smiled upon his companion. 
 
 Xow as they walked along together, the guide asked the old 
 gentleman if he did not know one Mr. Fearing, 
 fa 1 * Fearing. tnat 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 all my days. 
 
260 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I perceive you knew him, for you havt 
 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 whal 
 would come upon us hereafter, I was with him. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I was his guide from my Master's hous* 
 to the gates of the Celestial City. 
 
 HON. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I did so ! but I could very well bear it, foi 
 men of my calling are oftentimes intrusted with the condud 
 of such as he was. 
 
 HON. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, anc 
 how he managed himself under your conduct. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Why, he w r as always afraid that he shoulc 
 
 come short of whither he had a desire to go. Everything 
 
 Mr Fearin 's frightened .him that he heard anybody speak of 
 
 troublesome that had but the least appearance of opposition 
 
 in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the Slougt 
 
 His behavior at ^ , , 
 
 the Slough of or Despond lor above a month together; noi 
 durst he, for all he saw several go over befon 
 him, venture, though the3 r , many of them, offered to lend hire 
 their hand. He would not go back again neither. The Celestia 
 City, he said he should die if he came not to it, and yet was 
 dejected at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw thai 
 anybody cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the Slougl 
 of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshim 
 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 h 
 carried everywhere with him, or else he would never hav 
 been as he was. So he came up to the gate, you know wha 
 I mean, that stands at the head of this wa\ 
 
 Kte aVi r at and there als he St d a g d While bef re h 
 
 would adventure to knock. When the gate wa 
 opened he would give back, and give place to others, and sa; 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 261 
 
 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; I dare say it 
 would have pitied one's heart to have seen him: Nor would 
 he go back again. At last he took the hammer that hanged 
 on the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two; then 
 one opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that 
 opened stept out after him, and said, Thou trembling one, 
 what wantest thou ? With that, he fell to the ground. He 
 that spoke to him wondered to see him so faint; so he said to 
 him, Peace be to thee; up, for I have set open the door to 
 thee; come in, for thou art blest. With that he got up, and 
 went in trembling, and when he was in, he was ashamed to 
 show his face. Well, after he had been entertained there a 
 while, as yo ; know how the manner is, he was bid go on his 
 way, and also told the way he should take. So he came till 
 he came to our house; but as he behaved himself at the gate, 
 so he did at my Master the Interpreter's door. 
 
 His behavior at . 
 
 the interpreter's He lay thereabout in the cold a good while, 
 before he would adventure to call; Yet he would 
 not go back. And the nights were long and cold then. Nay, 
 he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my Master to 
 receive him, and grant him the comfort of his house, and 
 also to allow him a stout and valiant conductor, because he 
 was himself so chicken-hearted a man; and yet, for all that, 
 he was afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down 
 thereabouts, till, poor man, he was almost starved. Yea, so 
 great was his dejection, that though he saw several others for 
 knocking got in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I 
 think I looked out of the window, and perceiving a man to 
 be up and down about the door, I went out to him, and 
 asked what he was; but, poor man, the water stood in his 
 eyes. So I perceived what he wanted. I went therefore in, 
 and told it in the house, and w r e showed the thing to our 
 Lord: so he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in; 
 
262 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 but I dare say I had hard work to do it. At last he came in, 
 
 and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it 
 
 ^nteriaineT there, wonderful lovingly to him. There were but a 
 
 "ncouraged^at the few g d bits at the table ' bllt SOme f li WaS 
 
 Interpreter a \ a [^ upon his trencher. Then he presented the 
 
 house. 
 
 note, and my Lord looked thereon, and said his 
 desire should be granted. So when he had been there a good 
 while, he seemed to get some heart, and to be a little more 
 comfortable. For my Master, you must know, is one of very 
 tender bowels, specially to them that are afraid; wherefore he 
 carried it so towards him, as might tend most to his encour- 
 agement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the 
 place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, 
 my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of 
 spirits, and some comfortable things to eat. Thus we set 
 forward, and I went before him; but the man was but of few 
 words, only he would sigh aloud. 
 
 When we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, 
 
 he said that he doubted that that would be his end also. 
 
 ., Only he seemed glad when he saw the Cross 
 
 He was greatly ' 
 
 afraid when he a nd the Sepulchre. There, I confess, he desired 
 
 saw the gibbet, 
 
 cheery when he to stay a little to look, and he seemed tor a 
 while after to be a little cheery. When we 
 came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did 
 he much fear the lions: for you must know that his trouble 
 was not about such things as those; his fear was about his 
 acceptance at last. 
 
 I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think, before he was 
 willing. Also, when he was in, I brought him acquainted 
 with the damsels that were of the place; but he 
 was a shamed to make himself much for com- 
 pany. 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-: 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 263 
 
 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 
 
 hill, into the Valley of Humiliation, he went down as well as 
 
 ever I saw a man in my life; for he cared not 
 
 He went down . * ' 
 
 into, and was how mean he was, so he might be happy at 
 
 very pleasant in, -ri-ii *- i 
 
 the Valley of last. Yea, I think there was a kind of a sym- 
 pathy betwixt that valley and him; for I never 
 saw him better in all his pilgrimage than when he was in that 
 valley. 
 
 Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the 
 very flowers that grew in this valley. He 
 would now be up every morning by break of 
 day. tracing and walking to and fro in this valley. 
 
 But when he was come to the entrance of the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death, I thought I should have lost my man: not 
 for that he had any inclination to go back that 
 he always abhorred ; but he was ready to die for 
 L^ ICO/ fear - Oh > the hobgoblins will have me! the 
 hobgoblins will have me ! cried he; and I could 
 not beat him out on't. He made such a noise, and such an 
 outcry here, that, had they but heard him, 'twas enough to 
 encourage them to come and fall upon us. 
 
 But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as 
 quiet while he went through it, as ever I knew it before or 
 since. I suppose those enemies here had now a special check 
 from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. 
 Fearing was passed over it. 
 
 It would be too tedious to tell you of all. We will there- 
 fore only mention a passage or two more. When he was come 
 at Vanity Fair, I thought he would have fought 
 
 Vanity TaTr. * with al] the men in the fair l feared there WG 
 
 should both have been knocked on the head, so 
 hot was he against their fooleries. Upon, the Enchanted 
 
264 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 Ground he was also very wakeful. But when he was come 
 at the river where was no bridge, there again he was in a 
 heavy case. Now, now, he said, he should be drowned for- 
 ever, and so never see that face with comfort, that he had 
 come so many miles to behold. 
 
 And here, also, I took notice of what was very remarkable: 
 the water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw 
 it in all my life. So he went over at last, not much above 
 wet-shod. 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 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 
 p , ... low, and that made his life so burdensome to 
 
 . himself, and so troublesome to others. He was, 
 
 above many, tender of sin. He was so afraid of 
 doing injuries to others, that he often would 
 deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not 
 offend. 
 
 HON. But what should be the reason that such a good 
 man should be all his, days so much in the dark? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. There are two sorts of reasons for it. 
 One is, the wise God will have it so: some must pipe, and 
 Reason wht ood some mus ^ weep. Now Mr. Fearing was one 
 men are so in that plaved upon this bass. He and his fel- 
 
 the dark. 
 
 lows found the sackbut, whose notes are more 
 
 Matt. xi. 16-18. , , , ., ,, , , 
 
 doleful than the notes or 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 265 
 
 sets the soul in tune for himself. Only here was the imper- 
 fection of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon no other music 
 hut this, till towards his latter end. 
 
 I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening 
 of the wits of young readers, and because, in 
 the book of the Revelations, the saved are 
 
 Chap. xiv. 2, 3. . . . . , 
 
 compared to a company of musicians that play 
 iipon their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before 
 the throne. 
 
 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 hell 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 well observed, 
 
 arose from the weakness of his mind there- 
 abouThim. about, 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, Fear- 
 ing has done me good. I thought nobody had been like me, 
 
 but I see there was some semblance 'twixt this 
 SnfeTic?. 1 " 1 * good man and I; only we differed in two things : 
 
 his troubles were so great, they brake out; but 
 mine I kept within. His also lay so hard upon him, they 
 made him that he could not knock at the houses provided 
 for entertainment; but my trouble was always such as made 
 me knock the louder. 
 
 MERCY. If I might also speak my heart, 
 'JJJSJ.J. I must say something of him has also dwelt 
 
 in me. For I have ever been more afraid of 
 the lake, and the loss of a place in Paradise, than I have 
 
266 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 been of the loss of other things. Oh, thought I, may I 
 have the happiness to have a habitation there! it is enough, 
 though I 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 
 
 wntetcT* within me that accompanies salvation; but if 
 
 it was so with such a good man as he, why 
 
 may it not also go well with me? 
 
 JAMES. No fears, no grace, said James. 
 Sentence. Though there is not always grace where there 
 
 is the fear of hell, yet to be sure there is no 
 grace w 7 here 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. Fear- 
 ing, after we have sent after him this farewell 
 
 Their farewell Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear 
 
 about him, 
 
 Of doing anything, while here, 
 
 That would have thee betray'd. 
 And didst thou fear the lake and pit? 
 
 Would others did so too ! 
 For, as for them that want thy wit, 
 
 They do themselves undo. 
 
 Now I saw, that they still went on in their talk. For after 
 
 Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. 
 
 Honest began to tell them of another, but his 
 
 Of Mr. Self-will. ' 
 
 name was Mr. Sell- will. He pretended nimsell 
 to be a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest, but I persuade myself he 
 never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the 
 way. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Had you ever any talk with him aboul 
 it? 
 
 HON. Yes, more than once or twice; but he would always 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 267 
 
 be like himself, self-willed. He neither cared for man, nor* 
 argument, nor yet example: what his mind 
 M^withhim. prompted him to, that he would do, and noth- 
 ing 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, 'tis possible for the 
 best to be guilty of the vices, as well as to partake of the vir- 
 tues 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 practised. 
 
 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 will. He said, To have to do with other men's 
 wives had been practised by David, God's beloved; and 
 therefore he could do it. He said to have more women than 
 one, was a thing that Solomon practised; and therefore he 
 could do it. He said that Sarah and the godly midwives of 
 Egypt lied, and so did saved Rahab; and therefore he could 
 do it. He said that the disciples went at the bidding of their 
 Master, and took away the owner's ass; and therefore he 
 could do so too. He said that Jacob got the inheritance of 
 his father in a way of guile and dissimulation; and therefore 
 he could do so too. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. High base! indeed; and you are sure he 
 was of this opinion? 
 
268 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 HON. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, 
 bring argument for it, etc. 
 
 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 con- 
 clusion? For this is as much as to say, that because good 
 men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had 
 allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind. Or if because a 
 child, by the blast of the wind, or for that it stumbled at a 
 stone, fell down and defiled itself in mire, therefore he might 
 wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. Who could 
 have thought that any 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 dis- 
 obedient; whereunto also they were appointed/' 
 
 His supposing that such may have the godly man's virtues, 
 
 who addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as 
 
 strong as the other. 'Tis just as if the dog should say, I 
 
 have, or may have, the qualities of the child, because I lick 
 
 up its stinking excrements. To eat up the sin 
 
 Hos. iv. 8. . 
 
 of God s people is no sign 01 one that is pos- 
 sessed with their virtues. Nor can I believe that one that is 
 of this opinion can at present have faith or love in him. But 
 I know you have made strong objections against him; prithee 
 what can 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 
 things, is bad; yet to sin, and plead a toleration so to do, is 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 269 
 
 worse. The one stumbles beholders accidentally, the other 
 pleads them into the snare. 
 
 HON. There are many of this man's mind that have not 
 this man's mouth; and that makes going on pilgrimage of so 
 little esteem as it is. 
 
 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, 'twas time enough to repent when they came 
 to die. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Such are not overwise. That man would 
 have been loath, might he have had a week to run twenty 
 miles in for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last 
 hour of that week. 
 
 HON. You say right; and yet the generality of them that 
 count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. I am, as you 
 see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many 
 a day; and I have taken notice of many things. 
 
 I have seen some that have set out as if they would drive 
 all the world afore them, who yet have, in few days, died as 
 they in the wilderness, and so never got sight of the promised 
 land. 
 
 I have seen some that have promised nothing, at the first 
 setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought 
 could not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good 
 pilgrims. 
 
 I have seen some that have run hastily forward, that again 
 have, after a little time, run as fast just back again. 
 
 I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pilgrim's 
 life at first, that, after a while, have spoken as much against it. 
 
 I have heard some, when they first set out for Paradise, 
 say positively there is such a place, who, when they have been 
 almost there, have come back again and said there is none. 
 
 I have heard some vaunt what they would do in case they 
 
270 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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, Gen- 
 tlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love 
 life, shift for yourselves, for the robbers are before you. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said Mr. Great-heart, They be the 
 
 three that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, said he, 
 
 we are ready for them. So they went on their 
 
 page 155. way. Now they looked at every turning, when 
 
 the y should have met with the villains; but 
 whether they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or 
 whether they had some other game, they came not up to the 
 pilgrims. 
 
 Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her chil- 
 dren, because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, 
 Christiana There is one a little before us, where a very 
 
 vnshetkfor honorable disciple, one Gaius, dwells. So they 
 
 an inn. . 
 
 all concluded to turn in thither; and the rather, 
 
 Rom. xm. 23. 
 
 Gaius. because the old gentleman gave him so good a 
 
 They enter into report. So when they came to the door, they 
 
 went in, not knocking, for folks use not to knock 
 at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the 
 house, and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie 
 there that night. 
 
 GAIUS. Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men, for my house 
 is for none but pilgrims. Then was Christiana, Mercy, and 
 
 the boys the more glad, for that the innkeeper 
 fh^aZdtw. 3 was a lover of Pilgrims. So they called for 
 
 rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana 
 and her children and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart 
 and the old gentleman. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gaius, 
 what hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come fa? 
 to-day, and are weary. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 271 
 
 GAIUS. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conveniently 
 go out to seek food; but such as we have you shall be wel- 
 come to, if that will content. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. We will be content with what thou hast 
 in the house; for as much as I have proved thee, thou art 
 never destitute of that which is convenient. 
 
 Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name 
 
 was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so 
 
 many pilgrims. This done, he comes up again, 
 
 Gains his cook. . . 
 
 saying, Come, my good mends, you are wel- 
 come to me, and I am glad that I have an house to entertain 
 you; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us 
 entertain one another with some good discourse. So they 
 all said, Content. 
 
 GAIUS. Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this 
 
 Talk between 
 
 Gaius and his aged matron ? and whose daughter is this 
 
 guests. , 
 
 young damsel : 
 
 GREAT-HEART. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a 
 
 pilgrim of former times, and these are his four children. The 
 
 maid is one of her acquaintance, one that she 
 
 Mark this. , 
 
 hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. 
 The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in 
 his steps; yea, if they do but see any place where the old pil- 
 grim 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 
 
 an * dwe]t first at Antioch. Christian's progenitors 
 (I suppose you have heard your husband talk 
 of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any 
 that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and 
 courage for the Lord of the pilgrims, his ways, and them 
 that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's 
 
272 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. 
 Acts vii 59 60 Stephen, that was one of the first of the family 
 from whence your husband sprang, was 
 knocked on the head with stones. James, 
 another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the 
 sword. To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of 
 the family from whence your husband came, there was Igna- 
 tius, 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 whom they 
 put into a sack and cast him into the sea to be drowned. 
 'Twould be impossible utterly to count up all of that family 
 that have suffered injuries and death, for the love of a pil- 
 grim's life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband 
 has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they 
 will bear up their father's name, and tread in their father's 
 steps, and come to their father's end. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads; they 
 seem to choose heartily their father's ways. 
 
 GAIUS. That is it that I said. Wherefore Christian's 
 
 family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of the 
 
 ground, and yet to be numerous upon the face 
 
 Advice to ^ 
 
 Christiana about of the earth; wherefore let Christiana look out 
 
 some damsels for her sons, to whom they may 
 
 be betrothed, etc., that the name of their father and the 
 
 house of his progenitors may never be forgotten in the world. 
 
 HON. 'Tis pity this family should fall, and be extinct. 
 
 GAIUS. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may; but let 
 
 Christiana take my advice, and that's the way to uphold it. 
 
 And Christiana, said the innkeeper, I am glad to see thee 
 
 and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely 
 
 MattLw n marry. 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; 'tis the way to preserve 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 273 
 
 you a posterity in the earth. So this match was concluded, 
 and in process of time they were married. But more of that 
 hereafter. 
 
 Gaius also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the 
 
 behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death 
 
 Gen ~. and the curse came into the world by a woman, 
 
 so also did life and health: "God sent forth his 
 
 Gal. iv. 4. 
 
 Son, made of a woman.'* Yea, to show how 
 old 'so much much those that came after did abhor the act 
 
 of their mother, this sex in the Old Testament 
 coveted children, if haply this or that woman might be the 
 mother of the Saviour of the world. 
 
 I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women 
 rejoiced in him before either man or angel. I read not that 
 
 ever any man did give unto Christ so much as 
 
 one groat; but the women followed him, and 
 
 ministered to him of their substance. It was a 
 woman that washed his feet with tears, and a woman that 
 anointed his body to the burial. They were women that 
 
 wept when he was going to the cross, and 
 37,56. women that followed him from the cross, and 
 
 Chap^xii.s. that sat by his sepulchre when he was buried. 
 M^xxvii* 7 ' Tne y were women that were first with him at 
 55, 56, 61. h^ resurrection morn, and women that brought 
 
 Luke xxiv. tidings first to his disciples that he was risen 
 
 from the dead. Women, therefore, are highly 
 favored, and show by these things that they are sharers with 
 us in the grace of life. 
 
 Now the cook sent up to signify that supper 
 
 Supper ready. i fi. 
 
 was almost ready, and sent one to lay the 
 cloth, the trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in 
 order. 
 
 Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth and of this 
 forerunner of the supper begetteth in me a greater appetite 
 to my food than I had before. 
 
274 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 GAIUS. So let all ministering doctrines to thee in this life, 
 
 beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper 
 gathered from of the great King in his kingdom ; for all preach- 
 l board wifalhe m g books, and ordinances here, are but as the 
 C tnche?e. laying of the trenchers, and as setting of salt 
 
 upon the board, when compared with the feast 
 that our Lord will make for us when we come to his 
 house. 
 
 So supper came up, and first a heave-shoulder and a wave- 
 breast was set on the table before them, to show that they 
 
 must begin their meal with prayer and praise 
 Cka,x. 14" is. to God. The heave-shoulder David lifted his 
 H S eb XX xiii l \5. heart up to God with, and with the wave-breast, 
 
 where his heart lay, with that he used to lean 
 upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very 
 fresh and good, and they all ate heartily well thereof. 
 Deuf xxxii 14 ^ e nex ^ they brought up was a bottle of 
 
 wine, red as blood. So Gaius said to them, 
 
 Judges ix. 13. 
 
 Drink freely; this is the juice of the true vine, 
 that makes glad the heart of God and man. 
 So they drank and were merry. 
 
 next was a ^h ^ m ^ we ^ crum bed. 
 
 i Pet ii i 2 
 
 But Gaius said, Let the boys have that, that 
 
 A dish of milk. , , . 
 
 they may grow thereby. 
 Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. 
 
 Then said Gaius, Eat freely of this; for this is 
 butted good to cheer up and strengthen your judg- 
 
 isa. vii. is. ments 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." 
 
 Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they 
 
 were very good-tasted fruit. Then said Mat- 
 
 A dish of apples. * 
 
 thew, May we eat apples, since they were such 
 by and with which the serpent beguiled our first mother ? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 275 
 
 said Gaius 
 
 Apples were they with which we were beguiled, 
 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. 
 
 Then said Matthew, I made the scruple because I, a while 
 since, was sick with eating of fruit. 
 
 GAIUS. Forbidden fruit will make you sick, but not what 
 our Lord has tolerated. 
 
 While they were thus talking, they were pre- 
 '. sen ted with another dish, and it was a dish of 
 nuts. Then said some at the table, Nuts spoil 
 tender teeth, specially the teeth of children; which when 
 Gaius heard, he said 
 
 Hard texts are nuts (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 brought are 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 
 
 Mkf 6 dd ^ man ^ere was ' tnou gh some did count him mad, 
 
 Honest. The more he cast away, the more he had. 
 
 Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gaius 
 would say ; so he sat still a while, and then thus replied 
 
 He that bestows his goods upon the poor, 
 Qaiut opens it. ' 5 
 
 shall nave as much again, and ten times more. 
 
 Then said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did not 
 
 Joseph wonders. 
 
 think you could nave found it out. 
 Oh, said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way a great 
 
276 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 while; nothing teaches like experience. I have learned of 
 
 my Lord to be kind, and have found by experience that I 
 
 have gained thereby. "There is that scatter- 
 
 Prov. art. 24. . i 
 
 eth, yet mcreaseth; and there is that with- 
 
 holdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to 
 
 poverty." "There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath 
 
 nothing; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great 
 
 riches." 
 
 Then Samuel whispered to Christiana his mother, and 
 said, Mother, this is a very good man's house; let us stay 
 here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married 
 here to Mercy before we go any farther. 
 
 The which Gaius the host overhearing, said, With a very 
 good will, my child. 
 
 So thev staved there more than a month, and 
 
 Matthew and 
 
 Mercy are Mercy was given to Matthew to wife. 
 
 While they stayed here, Mercy, as her cus- 
 tom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the 
 poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon the 
 pilgrims. 
 
 But to return again to our story. After supper the lads 
 
 desired a bed, for that they were weary with travelling. 
 
 Then Gaius called to show them their chamber; 
 
 1 he boys go to 
 
 bed. the rest but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. So 
 
 she had them to bed, and they slept well: but 
 
 the rest sat up all night, for Gaius and they were such suitable 
 
 company that they could not tell how to part. Then after 
 
 much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old 
 
 Mr. Honest, he that put forth the riddle to 
 
 Old Honest nods. . r 
 
 Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great-heart, 
 What, Sir, you begin to be drowsy; come, rub up, now here's 
 a riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, Let's hear it. 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart 
 
 A iddle ^ ^^' must first be overcome: 
 
 Who live abroad would, first must die at home. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 277 
 
 Ha! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one; hard to expound, 
 and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said he, I will, 
 if you please, leave my part to you; do you expound it, and I 
 will hear what you say. 
 
 No, said Gaius, 'twas put to you, and 'tis expected that 
 you should answer it. 
 
 Then said the old gentleman 
 
 The riddle ^ e ^ rst ^ v g race must conquer'd be, 
 
 opened. That sin would mortify: 
 
 And who, that lives, would convince me, 
 Unto himself must die. 
 
 It is right, said Gaius; good doctrine and experience teaches 
 this. For first, until grace displays itself, and overcomes the 
 soul with its glory, it is altogether without heart to oppose 
 sin. Besides, if sin is Satan's cords, by which the soul lies 
 bound, how should it make resistance, before it is loosed from 
 that infirmity ? 
 
 Secondly, nor will any, that knows either reason or grace, 
 believe that such a man can be a living monument of grace, 
 that is a slave to his own corruptions. 
 
 And now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story worth 
 the hearing. There were two men that went on pilgrimage, 
 the one began when he was young, the other 
 
 wllen he Was ld ' Tne y un g 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 demonstration 
 
 that it is strongest. Specially when it also 
 
 A comparison. ,111 -11 
 
 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- 
 
278 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 selves with this mistake, namely, taking the decays of nature 
 for a gracious conquest over corruptions, and 
 
 A mistake. 1-11 
 
 so have been apt to beguile themselves. In- 
 deed, old men that are gracious are best able to give advice 
 to them that are young, because they have seen most of the 
 emptiness of things. But yet, for an old and a young to set 
 out both together, the young one has the advantage of the 
 fairest discovery of a work of grace within him, though the 
 old man's corruptions are naturally the weakest. 
 
 Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now when the 
 
 family was up, Christiana bid her son James that he should 
 
 . read a chapter; so he read the fifty-third of 
 
 Isaiah. When he had done, 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 nor comeliness 
 
 in him." 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first 
 I answer, Because the church of the Jews, of which Christ 
 came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. 
 To the second I say, The words are spoken in the person of 
 the unbelievers, who, because they want that eye that can see 
 into our Prince's heart, therefore they judge of him by the 
 meanness of his outside: just like those that know not that 
 precious stones are covered over with a homely crust; who, 
 when they have found one, because they know not what they 
 have found, cast it again away, as men do a common stone. 
 
 Well, said Gaius, now you are here, and since, as I know, 
 
 Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after 
 
 we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into 
 
 Giant Slay-good 
 
 assaulted and the fields, to see it we can do any good. About 
 a mile from hence there is one Slay-good, a giant 
 that doth much annoy the King's highway in these parts; 
 and I know whereabout his haunt is. He is master of a 
 number of thieves. 'Twould be well if we could clear these 
 parts of him. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 279 
 
 So they consented and went; Mr. Great-heart with his 
 sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and 
 staves. 
 
 When they came to the place where he was, they found 
 
 him with one Feeble-mind in his hands, whom his servants 
 
 had brought unto him, having taken him in the 
 
 He is found with . . 
 
 one Feeble-mind way. Now the giant was nning ot 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. 
 
 SLAY-GOOD. Then said the Giant, Why are you here on 
 my ground ? 
 
 GREAT- HEART. To revenge the blood of pilgrims as I also 
 told thee before. So they went to it again, and the Giant 
 made Mr. Great-heart give back; but he came up again, and 
 in the greatness of his mind he let fly with such stoutness at 
 the Giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon 
 fall out of his hand. So he smote him and slew him, and 
 cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He also 
 took Feeble-mind the pilgrim, and brought him 
 
 One Feeble-mind . i i . 
 
 rescued from the with him to his lodgings. When they were 
 come home, they showed his head to the family, 
 and then set it up, as they had done others before, for a 
 terror to those that should attempt to do as he, hereafter. 
 
 Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his 
 hands. 
 
 FEEBLE. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as 
 
280 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 you see; and, because death did usually once a day knock 
 . at my door, I thought I should never be well 
 
 How Feeble-mind 
 
 came to be a at home; so I betook myself to a pilgrim s life, 
 and have travelled hither from the town of Un- 
 certain, where I and my father were born. I am a man of no 
 strength at all, of body, nor yet of mind, but would, if I 
 could, though I can but crawl, spend my life in the pilgrim's 
 way. When I came at the gate that is at the head of the 
 way, the Lord of that place did entertain me freely, neither 
 objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble 
 mind, but gave me such things that were necessary, for my 
 journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the 
 house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there, 
 and, because the Hill Difficulty was judged too hard for me, 
 I was carried up that by one of his servants. Indeed, I have 
 found much relief from pilgrims, though none was willing to 
 go so softly as I am forced to do; yet still, as they came on, 
 they bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was the will 
 i Tkess v 14 ^ ^elr Lord that comfort should be given to 
 the feeble-minded, and so went on their own 
 pace. When I was come up to Assault Lane, then this Giant 
 met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter; but, alas! 
 feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial. So he 
 came up and took me. I conceited he should 
 not kill me. Also, when he had got me into 
 his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I 
 should come out alive again; for I have heard, that not any 
 pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keep 
 heart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of Providence, 
 to die by the hand of the enemy. Robbed, I looked to be, 
 and robbed to be sure I am; but I am, as you see, escaped 
 with life, for the which I thank my King as author, and you 
 as the means. Other brunts I also look for, 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 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 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 281 
 
 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 not you, sometime 
 ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrim ? 
 
 FEEBLE. Acquainted with him! Yes; he came from the 
 
 town of Stupidity, which lieth four degrees to the northward 
 
 of the City of Destruction, and as many off of 
 
 Mr. Fearing, J 
 
 Mr. Feeble- where I was born; yet we were well acquainted, 
 
 mind's uncle. f . , , , . f . , 
 
 for indeed he was mine uncle, my fathers 
 
 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 
 
 Feeble-mind has i i* i .1 , i , i 
 
 tome of Mr. apt to believe also that you were related one 
 features* * another; for you have his whitely look, a 
 
 cast like his 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 
 part found in myself. 
 
 GAIUS. Come, Sir, said good Gaius, be of good cheer, you 
 
 are welcome to me, and to my house, and what 
 Comforts him. tnou nas a mind to, call for freely; and what 
 
 thou wouldest have my servants do for thee, 
 they will do it with a ready mind. 
 
 FEEBLE. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is unexpected 
 favor, and as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. Did 
 
 Giant Slay-good intend me this favor when he 
 
 Notice to be 
 
 taken of stopped me, and resolved to let me go no far- 
 
 ther? Did he intend that after he had rifled 
 my pockets I should go to Gaius mine host ? Yet so it is. 
 Tidin s how one Now just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were 
 Not-right was thus in talk, there comes one running, and 
 
 slain with a 
 
 thunderbolt, and called at the door, and told, that about a mile 
 mind's comment and a half off there was one Mr. Not-right, a 
 pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where he 
 was, with a thunderbolt. 
 
282 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FEEBLE. Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He 
 overtook me some days before I came so far as hither, and 
 would be my company keeper. He also was with me when 
 Slay-good, the giant, took me; but he was nimble of his 
 heels, and escaped. But it seems he escaped to die, and I 
 was took to live. 
 
 What, one would think, doth seek to slay outright, 
 
 Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight. 
 
 That very providence, whose face is death, 
 
 Doth 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's 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. Now the hour was 
 
 come that they must be gone; wherefore Mr. Great-heart 
 
 called for a reckoning. But Gaius told him that 
 
 The pilgrims . . 
 
 pare to go at his house it was not the custom for pilgrims to 
 
 pay for their entertainment. He boarded them 
 flW fhefgrlli by tne y ear but looked for his pay from the 
 r "* good Samaritan, who had promised him at his 
 return, whatsoever charge he was at with them, 
 faithfully to repay him. Then said Mr. Great-heart to him 
 GREAT-HEART. "Beloved, thou dost faithfully whatsoever 
 thou dost, to the brethren and to strangers, 
 
 3 John v. 6. . 
 
 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." 
 
 Gains s last rr, r* 11-1 
 
 kindness to Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and 
 
 of his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble- 
 mind. He also gave him something to drink by the way. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 283 
 
 Now Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the 
 door, made as if he intended to linger. The which, when 
 Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, 
 pray do you go along with us, I will be your conductor, and 
 you shall fare as the rest. 
 
 FEEBLE. Alas! I want a suitable companion; you are all 
 lusty and strong, but I, as you see, am weak. I choose there- 
 fore rather to come behind, lest by reason of 
 m y man y 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 laughing, 
 I shall like no gay attire, I shall like no unprofitable questions. 
 Nay, I am so weak a man as to be offended with that which 
 others have a liberty to do. I do not yet know 
 
 His excuse for it. ... 
 
 all the truth; I am a very ignorant Christian 
 man; sometimes, if I hear some rejoice in the Lord, it troubles 
 me because I cannot do so too. It is with me as it is with a 
 weak man among the strong, or as with a sick man among 
 . . .. the healthy, or as a lamp despised ("He that is 
 
 ready to slip with his feet, is as a lamp despised 
 in the thought of him that is at ease"); so that I know not 
 what to do. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I 
 
 have it in commission, to comfort the feeble- 
 
 minded, and to support the weak. You must 
 
 . v. 14. needs go along with us; we will wait for you, 
 
 Ram xiv we w ^ * en( * you our ^P* we w ^ deny our- 
 
 selves of some things, both opinionative and 
 
 1 Cor. nn. 
 
 practical, for your sake; we will not enter into 
 
 spirit. doubtful disputations before you, will be made 
 
 all things to you rather than you shall be left 
 
 Pa. xxxviii. 17. Kphi nr l 
 
 Promises. Denmci. 
 
 Now all this while they were at Gaius's door; 
 and, behold, as they were thus in the heat of their dis- 
 
284 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 course, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by, with his crutches in 
 his hand; and he also was going on pilgrimage. 
 
 FEEBLE. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, 
 glad Tosee Man, how earnest thou hither? I was but just 
 
 now complaining that I had not a suitable com- 
 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. I shall be glad of thy company, said the other; 
 and, good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since 
 we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches. 
 
 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, 
 
 New talk. 
 
 tell us some profitable things of some that have 
 gone on pilgrimage before us. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. With a good will. I suppose you have 
 heard how Christian of old did meet with Apollyon in the 
 
 Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard 
 pa^ 1 68-?4, 76. WOI "k ne had to go through the Valley of the 
 
 Shadow of Death. Also I think you cannot but 
 have heard how Faithful was put to it 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 Faith- 
 ful was hardest put to it with Shame: he was an unwearied 
 one. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 285 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Ay; for as the pilgrim well said, he of all 
 men had the wrong name. 
 
 HON. But pray, Sir, where was it that Chris- 
 pa^e Ik tian and ^ithful met Talkative ? That same 
 
 was also a notable one. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. He was a confident fool; yet many follow 
 his ways. 
 
 HON. He had like to have beguiled Faithful. 
 GREAT-HEART. Ay, but Christian put him into a way 
 quickly to find him out. Thus they went on 
 page 106 ^11 they came at a place where Evangelist met 
 
 with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to 
 them of what should befall them at Vanity Fair. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said their guide, Hereabouts did 
 Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophesied 
 to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity 
 Fair. 
 
 HON. Say you so ? I dare say it was a hard chapter that 
 then he did read unto them. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. 'Twas so ; but he gave them encouragement 
 
 withal. But what do we talk of them ? They 
 
 page Vis. were a cou pl e of Hon-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't; 
 for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates it, were con- 
 verted by his death. 
 
 HON. Well, but pray go on; for you are well acquainted 
 
 with things. 
 
 pope 122 GREAT-HEART. Above all that Christian met 
 
 with after he had passed through Vanity Fair, 
 one By-ends was the arch one. 
 HON. By-ends! what was he? 
 
286 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 GREAT-HEART. A very arch fellow, 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 occa- 
 sion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and 
 change from opinion to opinion, yea, and plead for so doing 
 too. But so far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with 
 his by-ends; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were 
 ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God. 
 
 Now by this time they were come within sight of the town 
 
 of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is kept. So when they saw 
 
 They are come that they were so near the town, they consulted 
 
 fianity^* 1 ' * witn one anotner how they should pass through 
 
 the town, and some said one thing, and some 
 
 They enter into 
 
 one Mr. another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have, 
 
 lodge. as you may. understand, often been a conductor 
 
 of pilgrims through this town; now I am ac- 
 quainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by nation, an 
 old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good, 
 said he, we will turn in there? 
 
 Content, said old Honest; Content, said Christiana; Con- 
 tent, said Mr. Feeble-mind: and so they said all. Now you 
 must think it was eventide by that they got to the outside 
 of the town, but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old 
 man's house. So thither they came; and he called at the 
 door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as 
 ever he heard it; so he opened, and they all came in. Then 
 said Mnason their host, How far have ye come to-day ? So 
 they said, From the house of Gaius our friend. I promise 
 you, said he, you have gone a good stitch, you may well be 
 a- weary; sit down. So they sat down. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said their guide, Come, 
 
 wnat cheer, sirs ? I dare say you are welcome 
 
 to my friend. 
 MNASON. T also, said Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome; 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 287 
 
 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 harbor, and good 
 company, and now I hope we have both. 
 
 MNASON. For harbor, you see what it is; but for good 
 company, that will appear in the trial. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have 
 the pilgrims up into their lodging ? 
 
 MNASON. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to 
 their respective places, and also showed them a very fair 
 dining-room, where they might be and sup together, until 
 time was come to go to rest. 
 
 Now when they were set in their places, and were a little 
 cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord if 
 there were any store of good people in the town ? 
 
 MNASON. 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 
 the them ? For the sight of good men to them that 
 wn are g m S on pilgrimage, is like to the appearing 
 
 of the moon and the stars to them that are sail- 
 ing upon the seas. 
 
 MNASON. Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and 
 his daughter Grace came up. So he said unto her, Grace, go 
 
 you tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- 
 Some sent for. ^ 
 
 man, Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-he, 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 salu- 
 tation made, they sat down together at the table. 
 
 Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neighbors, 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 
 
288 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 wife of Christian, that famous pilgrim, who with Faithful his 
 brother were so shamefully handled in our town. At that 
 they stood amazed, saying, We little thought to see Christi- 
 ana, when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very 
 comfortable surprise. Then they asked her of her welfare, 
 and if these young men were her husband's sons. And when 
 she had them told 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 
 betwixt Mr. sat down) asked Mr. Contrite and the rest in 
 
 Contrite what posture their town was at present. 
 
 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. He 
 
 that lives in such a place as this is, and that 
 watchfulness. ^ as ^ ^ w ^h such as we have, has need of an 
 
 item, to caution him to take heed, every mo- 
 ment of the day. 
 
 HON. But how are your neighbors for quietness ? 
 CONTRITE. They are much more moderate now than for- 
 merly. You know how Christian and Faithful were used at 
 
 our town; but of late, I say, they have been far 
 
 Persecution not J J 
 
 so hot at Vanity more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful 
 
 Fair as formerly. ,. , , , .. 
 
 lieth with load upon them till now; tor since 
 they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more. 
 In those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we 
 can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was 
 odious; now, specially in some parts of our town (for you 
 know our town is large) religion is counted honorable. 
 
 Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray, how fareth it with 
 you in your pilgrimage? How stands the country affected 
 towards you? 
 
 HON. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men 
 sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, sometimes u 
 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 289 
 
 hill, sometimes down-hill; we are seldom at a certainty; the 
 wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend 
 that we meet with in the way. We have met with some 
 notable rubs already, and what are yet behind we know not, 
 but for the most part we find it true, that has been talked of, 
 of old, A good man must suffer trouble. 
 
 CONTRITE. You talk of rubs; what rubs have you met 
 withal ? 
 
 HON. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart our guide, for he can 
 give the best account of that. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. We have been beset three or four times 
 already. First, Christiana and her children were beset with 
 two ruffians, that they feared would a took away their lives. 
 We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and 
 Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last, than 
 were beset of him. And thus it was: After we had been some 
 time at the house of "Gaius, mine host, and of the whole 
 church," we were minded upon a time to take our weapons 
 with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those that 
 were enemies to pilgrims (for we heard that there was a no- 
 table one thereabouts). 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, suppos- 
 ing, as we thought, he had had another prey, he left the poor 
 rnan in his hole, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and 
 he lustily laid about him; but in conclusion, he was brought 
 down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the 
 wayside for a terror to such as should after practise such 
 ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man him- 
 self to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth 
 of the lion. 
 
290 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FEEBLE. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true 
 to my cost, and comfort: to my cost, when he threatened to 
 pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I 
 saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends with their weapons ap- 
 proach so near for my deliverance. 
 
 HOLY-MAN. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two 
 things that they have need to be possessed with 
 ^plech 01 ^ 8 tnat g on pilgrimage: courage, and an un- 
 spotted life. If they have not courage, they 
 can never hold on their way; and if their lives be loose, they 
 will make the very name of a pilgrim stink. 
 
 LOVE-SAINT. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this cau- 
 tion is not needful amongst you. But truly 
 
 Weech OVe ~ Saint ' 3 there are man y that S U P n the F0ad > tlmt 
 
 rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrim- 
 age, than strangers and pilgrims in the earth. 
 
 DARE-NOT-LIE. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, 'Tis true, 
 they neither have the pilgrim's weed, nor the pilgrim's cour- 
 age; they go not uprightly, but all awry with 
 
 fa' speech" * ' he ^ ielT ^ eet; one s ^ oe S oes i nwa rd, another out- 
 ward, 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 to 
 
 %I'spch mi have that S raCe P Ut U P n them and their P iJ " 
 
 grim's progress as they desire, until the way 
 is cleared of such spots and blemishes. 
 
 Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until supper 
 was set upon the table; unto which they went and refreshed 
 their weary bodies; so they went to rest. Now they stayed 
 in this fair a great while, at the house of this Mr. Mnason, 
 who in process of time gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, 
 Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph. 
 
 The time, as I said, that they lay here was long (for it 
 was not now as in former times). Wherefore the pilgrims 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 291 
 
 grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, 
 and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was 
 wont, labored much for the poor; wherefore their bellies and 
 backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her pro- 
 fession. And to say the truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, 
 they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in 
 their place. They were also all of them very fruitful, so that 
 Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the 
 world. 
 
 While they lay here, there came a monster out of the 
 
 woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would 
 
 also carrv awav their children, and teach them 
 
 A monster. i 
 
 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; 
 its body was like a dragon, and it had seven 
 
 ftev. xtni. o. 
 
 heads and ten horns. It made great havoc of 
 
 His shape. , 
 
 children, and yet it was governed by a woman. 
 This monster propounded conditions to men, 
 and such men as loved their lives more than their souls, ac- 
 cepted 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 paw and mouths of 
 this so devouring a serpent. 
 
 Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, 
 Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, with their weapons, go 
 forth to meet him. NovV the monster at first 
 was verv rampant, and looked upon these ene- 
 mies with great disdain; but they so belabored 
 him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a 
 retreat. So they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again. 
 The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to 
 
292 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of 
 the people of the town; also these seasons did these valiant 
 worthies watch him in, and did still continually assault him, 
 insomuch that in process of time he became not only wounded, 
 but lame; also, he has not made that havoc of the towns- 
 men's children as formerly he has done; and it is verily be- 
 lieved by some that this beast will die of his wounds. 
 
 This therefore made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of 
 great fame in this town; so that many of the people that 
 wanted their taste of things yet had a reverent 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 could see no more than a mole, 
 nor understand more than a beast; these had no reverence 
 for these men, nor took they notice of their valor or adven- 
 tures. 
 
 Well, the time grew on that the pilgrims must go on their 
 
 way; wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent 
 
 for their friends, they conferred with them, they had some 
 
 time set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection 
 
 of their Prince. There was again that brought 
 
 them of such things as they had, that were fit 
 
 for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and 
 
 so laded them with such things as were necessary. 
 
 Then they set forwards on their way; and their friends 
 accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again 
 committed each other to the protection of their King, and 
 parted. 
 
 They, therefore, that were of the pilgrims' company went 
 on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now, the women 
 and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they 
 could bear; by this means Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble- 
 mind had more to sympathize with their condition. 
 
 When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their 
 friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 293 
 
 where Faithful was put to death. There therefore they made 
 a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his 
 cross so well; and the rather, because they now found that 
 they had a benefit by such a manly suffering as his was. 
 
 They went on therefore after this, a good way farther, 
 talking of Christian and Faithful, and how Hopeful joined 
 himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead. 
 
 Now they were come up with the Hill Lucre, where the 
 silver mine was which took Demas off from his pilgrimage, 
 and into which, as some think, By-ends fell 
 P a T e 131 anc ^ 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 should be 
 so blinded as to turn aside here. Only they considered again, 
 that nature is not affected with the harms that others have 
 met with, specially if that thing upon which they look has 
 an attracting virtue upon the foolish eye. 
 
 I saw now that they went on till they came at the river 
 that was on this side of the Delectable Moun- 
 page 136. tains; to the river where the fine trees grow 
 
 Ps. xxiii. on both sides, and whose leaves, if taken in- 
 
 wardly, are good against surfeits; where the 
 meadows are green all the year long; and where they might 
 lie down safely. 
 
 By this river-side, in the meadow, there were cotes and 
 folds for sheep, an house built for the nourishing and bringing 
 up of those lambs, the babes of those women that go on pil- 
 grimage. Also there was here One that was 
 ?/a'xi 11 intrusted with them, who could have compas- 
 
 sion, and that could gather these lambs with 
 his arm and carry them in his bosom, and that could gently 
 lead those that were with young. Now to the care of this 
 
294 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 man, Christiana admonished her foiir daughters to commit 
 their little ones, that by these waters they might be housed, 
 Jer xxiii 4 harbored, succored, and nourished, and that 
 Ezek. xxxiv. none of them might be lacking in time to come. 
 This man, if any of them go astray or be lost, 
 he will bring them again : he will also bind up that which was 
 broken, and will strengthen them that are sick. Here they 
 will never want meat, and drink, and 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. Be- 
 sides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and ad- 
 monition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths and 
 that, you know, is a favor 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 eat of, that fell over the 
 wall out of Beelzebub's garden, but fruit that procureth 
 health where there is none, and that continueth and 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 to young children and orphans. 
 
 Now they went on; and when they were come to By-path 
 
 Meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with his i el- 
 
 low Hopeful, when they were taken by Giant 
 
 They being come ^ . , . ^ . 
 
 to By-path stile, Despair and put into Doubting Castle; they 
 have a iuck sat down and consulted what was best to be 
 
 done; to wit, now they were so strong, and had 
 ^^ sucn a man as Mr. Great-heart for their 
 conductor, whether they had not best to make 
 an attempt upon the Giant, demolish his castle, and, if there 
 were any pilgrims in it, to set them at liberty, before they 
 went any farther. So one said one thing, and another said 
 the contrary. One questioned if it was lawful to go upon 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 295 
 
 unconsecrated ground, another said they might, provided 
 their end was good; but Mr. Great-heart said, Though that 
 assertion offered last cannot be universally true, yet I have a 
 commandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the 
 good fight of faith; and I pray, with whom should I fight 
 this good fight, if not with Giant Despair? I will therefore 
 attempt the taking away of his life, and the demolishing of 
 Doubting Castle. Then said he, Who will go with me? 
 Then said old Honest, I will. And so will we too, said 
 Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, 
 r/u ll James, and Joseph; for they were young men 
 
 and strong. So they left the women in the 
 road, and with them Mr. Feeble-mind, and Mr. Ready- 
 to-halt with his crutches, to be their guard until they came 
 back; for in that place, though Giant Despair 
 dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a lit- 
 tle child might lead them. 
 
 So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the four young men 
 went to go up to Doubting Castle to look for Giant Despair. 
 When they came at the Castle gate, they knocked for entrance 
 with an unusual noise. At that the old Giant comes to the 
 gate, and Diffidence his wife, follows. Then said he, Who, 
 and what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to 
 molest the Giant Despair ? Mr. Great-heart replied, It is I, 
 Great-heart, one of the King of the Celestial Country's con- 
 ductors of pilgrims to their place; and I demand of thee that 
 thou open thy gates for my entrance. Prepare thyself also 
 to fight, for I am come to take away thy head and to demolish 
 Doubting Castle. 
 
 Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought no 
 man could overcome him: and again, thought he, Since here- 
 tofore I have made a conquest of angels, shall 
 Great-heart make me afraid ? So he harnessed 
 himself and went out. He had a cap of steel 
 upon his head, a breastplate of fire girded to him, and he 
 
296 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 fooR r die. brought down to the ground, but was very loath 
 
 to die. He struggled hard, and had, as they say, 
 
 as many lives as a cat, but Great-heart was his death, for he 
 
 left him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders. 
 
 Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, 1 and that, 
 
 you know, might with ease be done, since Giant Despair was 
 
 dead. They were seven days in destroying of 
 
 th ^t; 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 
 under a heap of stones) , and down to the road and to their 
 companions they came, and showed them what they had 
 done. Now when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that 
 it was the head of Giant Despair indeed, they were very 
 
 jocund and merry. Now Christiana, if need 
 
 They have music 
 
 and dancing for was, could play upon the viol, and her daughter 
 Mercy upon the lute; so, since they were so 
 
 merry disposed, she played them a lesson, and Ready-to-halt 
 
 1 Though Doubting Castle be demolished, 
 And the Giant Despair hath lost his head, 
 Sin can rebuild the castle, make't remain, 
 And make Despair the giant live again. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 297 
 
 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 handsomely. 
 
 As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not much to him, 
 he was for feeding rather than dancing, for that he was 
 almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle 
 of spirits for present relief, and then prepared him something 
 to eat; and in little time the old gentleman came to himself, 
 and began to be finely revived. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were fin- 
 ished, 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. 
 
 Then he writ under it, upon a marble stone, these verses 
 following : 
 
 of ^eSmne This is the head f him ' whose name 
 
 In former times did pilgrims terrify. 
 
 His Castle's down; and Diffidence, his wife, 
 Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of life. 
 Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, 
 Great-heart for them also the man has play'd. 
 Who hereof doubts, if he'll but cast his eye 
 Up hither, may his scruples satisfy. 
 This head also, when doubting cripples dance, 
 Doth show from fears they have deliverance. 
 
 When these men had thus bravely showed themselves 
 against Doubting Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they 
 went forward, and went on till they came to the Delectable 
 Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed 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. 
 
298 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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? 
 The guide's Then Mr. Great-heart replied 
 
 speech to the 
 
 Shepherds. First, here is Christiana and her train, 
 
 Her sons, and her sons' wives, who, like the wain, 
 Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer 
 From sin to grace, else they had not been here: 
 Next, here's old Honest, come on pilgrimage, 
 Ready-to-halt too, who I dare engage 
 True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, 
 Who willing was not to be left behind; 
 Despondency, good man, is coming after, 
 And so also is Much-afraid his daughter. 
 May we have entertainment here, or must 
 We farther go? Let's know whereon to trust. 
 
 Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable company. 
 You are welcome to us; for we have for the feeble, as for the 
 
 strong. Our Prince has an eye to what is done 
 entertainment, to the least of these; therefore infirmity must 
 Matt xxv 40 n t be a block to our entertainment. So they 
 
 had them to the palace door, and then said 
 unto them, Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind; come in, Mr. Ready-to- 
 halt; come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid his 
 daughter. These, Mr. Great-heart, said the Shepherds to 
 the guide, we call in by name, for that they are most subject 
 to draw back; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, we 
 
 leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said 
 fahel^p^df. Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth 
 Ezek. xxxiv. 21. shine in your faces, and that you are my Lord's 
 
 Shepherds indeed ; for that you have not pushed 
 
 these diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather 
 
 strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should. 
 
 So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and 
 
 the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 299 
 
 Shepherds said to those of the weakest sort, What is it that 
 you would have? for, said they, all things must be managed 
 here to the supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of 
 the unruly. 
 
 So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and 
 that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing; the which, 
 when they had received, they went to their rest, .each one 
 respectively unto his proper place. When morning was 
 come, because the mountains were high, and the day clear, 
 and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to show to 
 the pilgrims, before their departure, some rarities; therefore, 
 after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the 
 Shepherds took them out into the fields, and showed them 
 first what they had showed to Christian before. 
 
 Then they had them to some new places. The first was 
 to Mount Marvel, where they looked, and behold a man at 
 
 a distance, that tumbled the hills about with 
 Marvel. words. Then they asked the Shepherds 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 Pilgrim's Progress. And 
 
 he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe 
 pag* 156. down, or to tumble out of their ways, what 
 
 Mark xi. 23, 4. difficulties they shall meet with, by faith. Then 
 
 said Mr. Great-heart, I know him ; he is a man 
 above many. 
 
 Then they had them to another place, called Mount Inno- 
 cent; and there they saw a man clothed all in white, and two 
 
 men, Prejudice and Ill-will, continually casting 
 
 Mount Innocent. J 
 
 dirt upon him. Now behold the dirt, whatso- 
 ever they cast at him, would in little time fall off again, and 
 his garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast 
 thereat. 
 
 Then said the pilgrims, What means this ? The Shepherds 
 answered, This man is named Godly- man, and this garment 
 
300 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 is to show the innocency of his life. Now those that throw 
 dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing; but, as you see, 
 the dirt will not stick upon his cloths, so it shall be with him 
 that liveth truly innocently in the world. Whoever they be 
 that would make such men dirty, they labor all in vain; for 
 God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their inno- 
 cence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness 
 as the noonday. 
 
 Then they took them, and had them to Mount Charity, 
 
 where they show r ed them a man that had a bundle of cloth 
 
 lying before him, out of which he cut coats and 
 
 Mount Charity. 
 
 garments tor the poor that stood about him; 
 
 yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. 
 
 Then said they, What should this be? This is, said the 
 Shepherds, to show you, that he that has a heart to give of 
 his labor to the poor, shall never want wherewithal. He 
 that watereth shall be watered himself. And the cake that 
 the widow gave to the prophet did not cause that she had 
 ever the less in her barrel. 
 
 They had them also to a place where they saw one Fool, 
 
 arid one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, with intention 
 
 to make him white; but the more they washed 
 
 The work of one 
 
 Fool, and one him the blacker he was. They then asked the 
 Shepherds what that should mean. So they 
 told them, saying, Thus shall it be with the vile person; all 
 means used to get such an one a good name shall in conclu- 
 sion tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it was 
 with the Pharisees, and so shall it be with all hypocrites. 
 
 Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana her 
 mother, Mother, I would, if it might be, see the hole in the 
 Merc has a hill; or that commonly called the by way to hell. 
 mind to see the go her mother brake her mind to the Shep- 
 
 hole in the hill. TIT 
 
 Part i. herds. Then they went to the door. It was 
 
 in the side of a hill, and they opened it, and bid 
 
 Mercy hearken a while. So she hearkened, and heard one 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 301 
 
 saying, Cursed be my father for holding of my feet back from 
 the way of peace and life! And another said, O that I had 
 been torn in pieces before I had, to save my life, lost my 
 soul ! And another said, If I were to live again, how would 
 I deny myself, rather than come to this place! Then there 
 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 is delivered from this place. 
 
 Now when the Shepherds had showed them all these things, 
 then they had them back to the palace, and entertained them 
 with what the house would afford. But Mercy, 'being a 
 young and breeding woman, longed for something that she 
 saw there, but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then 
 asked her what she ailed, for she looked as one not well. 
 Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass 
 7/orwh e cu h ' hangs up in the dining-room, off of which I can- 
 not take my mind; if therefore I have it not, I 
 think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention 
 thy wants to the Shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. 
 But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know 
 that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame, 
 but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy 
 said, Then, mother, if you please, ask the Shepherds if they 
 are willing to sell it. 
 
 Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would present a 
 
 man one way, with his own features exactly, and, turn it but 
 
 another way, and it would show one the very 
 
 WafdqfQod. ^ ace ano ^ similitude of the Prince of pilgrims 
 
 James i. 23. himself. Yea, I have talked with them that 
 
 can tell, and they have said 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 
 
 1 Cor. xin. 1& ,..,. . Ar T 
 
 hands, in his feet, and his side. Yea, sucn 
 an excellency is there in that glass, that it will show him to 
 
302 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 one where they have a mind to see him, whether living or 
 dead, whether in earth or heaven, whether 
 
 2 Cor. in. 18. . . 
 
 in a state ot humiliation or in his exaltation, 
 whether coming to suffer or coming to reign. Christiana 
 therefore went to the Shepherds apart (now the names of 
 the Shepherds are Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and 
 
 Sincere), and said unto them, There is one of 
 page 148. mv 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 should by 
 you be denied. 
 
 EXPERIENCE. Call her, call her; she shall assuredly have 
 what we can help her to. So they called her, and said to her, 
 
 Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldest have ? 
 *"" Then she blushed and said, The great glass that 
 
 hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran 
 and fetched it, and with a joyful consent it was given her. 
 Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said, By this 
 I know that I have obtained favor in your eyes. 
 
 They also gave the other young women such things as 
 they desired, and to their husbands great commendations, 
 for that they joined with Mr. Great-heart to the slaying of 
 Giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. 
 
 About Christiana's neck the Shepherds put a 
 Shepherds adorn bracelet, and so they did about the necks of 
 
 her four daughters; also they put earrings in 
 their ears, and jewels on their foreheads. 
 
 When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in 
 peace, but gave not to them those certain cautions which 
 
 before were given to Christian and his com- 
 page 152 panion. The reason was, for that these had 
 
 Great-heart to be their guide, who was one that 
 was well acquainted with things, and so could give them their 
 cautions more seasonably, to wit, even then when the danger 
 was nigh the approaching. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 303 
 
 What cautious Christian and his companions had received 
 of the Shepherds, they had also lost, by that 
 pa 165 the time was come that they had need to put 
 
 them in practice. Wherefore here was the ad- 
 vantage that this company had over the other. 
 
 From hence they went on singing, and they said 
 
 Behold, how fitly are the stages set 
 For their relief that pilgrims are become: 
 And how they us receive without one let, 
 That make the other life our mark and home ! 
 
 
 What novelties they have, to us they give, 
 That we, though pilgrims, joyful lives may live: 
 They do upon us, too, such things bestow, 
 That show we pilgrims are, where'er we go. 
 
 When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly 
 came to the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, 
 
 that dwelt in the town of Apostasy. Where- 
 page 154 ^ ore ^ n ^ r - Great-heart their guide did 
 
 now put them in mind, saying, This is the place 
 where Christian met with one Turn-away, who carried with 
 him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I 
 
 have to say concerning this man; He would 
 Turn-away hearken to no counsel, but once a-falling, per- 
 
 suasion could not stop him. When he came to 
 
 the place where the Cross and the Sepulchre 
 was, he did meet with one that did bid him look there; but 
 he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said he was 
 
 resolved to go back to his own town. Before 
 
 he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, 
 who offered to lay hands on him to turn him into the way 
 again. But this Turn-away resisted him, and having done 
 much despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and so 
 escaped his hand. 
 
 Then they went on; and just at the place where Little-faith 
 
304 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 formerly was robbed, there stood a man with his sword drawn, 
 
 and his face all bloody. Then said Mr. Great- 
 One Vahant- 
 for-truth beset heart, What art thou ? The man made an- 
 
 with thieves. T , . _. T .. 
 
 swer, 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 unto me these three things: 1. 
 Whether I would become one of them ? 2. Or go back from 
 whence I came ? 3. Or die upon the place ? To the first I 
 
 answered, I had been a true man a long season, 
 
 Prov. i. 10-14. 
 
 and therefore it could not be expected that I 
 now should cast in my lot with thieves. Then they de- 
 manded 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 alto- 
 gether unsuitable to me, and very unprofitable for me, I for- 
 sook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to the 
 third. And I told them, my life cost more dear far, than 
 that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have noth- 
 ing 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 
 three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of 
 
 the marks of their valor, and have also carried 
 
 How he behaved 
 
 himself, and put away with them some of mine. They are but 
 
 them to flight. . ^ , . , , 
 
 just now gone; I suppose they might, as the say- 
 ing is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook them to flight. 
 GREAT-HEART. But here was great odds, 
 
 Great-heart ,, 
 
 wonders at three against one. 
 
 VALIANT. 'Tis true, but little and more are 
 
 Ps xxvii 3 nothing to him that has the truth on his side. 
 
 "Though an host should encamp against me," 
 
 said one, "my heart shall not fear: though war should 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 305 
 
 rise against me, in this will I be confident," etc. Besides, 
 said 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 ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said the guide, Why did you not 
 cry out, that some might have come in for your succor? 
 
 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 
 
 Isa ii 3 sword. So he showed it him. When he had 
 
 taken it in his hand, and looked thereon a 
 
 while, he said, Ha! it is a right Jerusalem blade. 
 
 VALIANT. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, 
 with a hand to wield it, and skill to use it, and 
 
 hipn. vi. lz-17. 
 
 he may venture upon an angel with it. He 
 need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how 
 
 to lay on. Its edges will never blunt. It will cut flesh and 
 
 bones, and soul, and spirit and all. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. But you fought a great while; I wonder 
 
 you were not weary. 
 
 2 Sam xxiii io VALIANT. I fought till my sword did cleave 
 to my hand; and when they were joined to- 
 
 1 he Word. 
 
 The Faith. gether, as if a sword grew out ot my arm, and 
 
 when the blood ran through my fingers, then I 
 fought with most courage. 
 
 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 companions. 
 
 Then they took him, and washed his wounds, and gave 
 him of what they had to refresh him; and so they went on 
 together. Now as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart 
 was delighted 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- 
 
306 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 tioned with him about many things; as, first, what country- 
 man he was ? 
 
 VALIANT. I am of Dark-land; for there I was born, and 
 there my father and mother are still. 
 
 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 on pilgrimage was this : We had one Mr. Tell- true came 
 
 into our parts, and he told it about what Chris- 
 
 How Mr. m ? 
 
 Valiant came to tian had done, and went from the City of De- 
 
 go on pilgrimage. . 11 i i j ' i i 
 
 struction; namely, how he had forsaken his 
 wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. 
 It was also confidently reported how he had killed a serpent 
 that did come out to resist him in his journey, and how he 
 got through to whither he intended. It was also told what 
 welcome he had at all his Lord's lodgings, specially when he 
 came to the gates of the Celestial City; for there, said the 
 man, he was received with sound of trumpet by a company 
 of Shining Ones. He told it also how all the bells in the city 
 did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments 
 he was clothed with; with many other things that now I shall 
 forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the stor3 r of 
 Christian and his travels, that my heart fell into a burning 
 haste to be gone after him; nor could father or mother stay 
 me: so I got from them, and am come thus far on my 
 way. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. You came in at the gate, did you not ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes, yes; for the same man also 
 
 He begins right. . 
 
 told us that all would be nothing, if we did not 
 begin to enter this way at the gate. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Look you, said the guide to 
 name /anwu*. Christiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, and 
 what he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad 
 far and near. 
 
 VALIANT. Why, is this Christian's wife? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 307 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four 
 sons. 
 
 VALIANT. What! and going on pilgrimage too ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes, verily; they are following after. 
 . VALIANT. It glads me at heart! Good 
 
 rejoiced to see man ! how joyful will he be, when he shall see 
 
 Christian's wife. . ,, .., , . 
 
 them that would not go with him, yet to enter 
 after him in at the gates into the city! 
 
 GREAT- HEART. Without doubt it will be a comfort to 
 him; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a 
 joy to meet there his wife and his children. 
 
 VALIANT. But now you are upon that, pray let me hear 
 your opinion about it. Some make a question, whether we 
 shall know one another when we are there ? 
 
 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 begin- 
 ning to come on pilgrimage ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes. Were your father and mother will- 
 ing that you should become a pilgrim? 
 
 VALIANT. O no! They used all means imaginable to 
 persuade me to stay at home. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Why, what could they say against it ? 
 The reat VALIANT. They said it was an idle life; and 
 
 stumbling-blocks if J myself were not inclined to sloth and lazi- 
 
 that by his 
 
 friends were laid ness, I would never countenance a pilgrim s 
 
 in his way. ,.. . 
 
 condition. 
 GREAT-HEART. And what did they say else? 
 
308 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 show wherein this way is so 
 dangerous ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes, and that in many particulars. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Name some of them. 
 
 VALIANT. They told me of the Slough of Despond, where 
 Christian was well-nigh smothered. They told me that there 
 were archers standing ready in Beelzebub 
 JtumUing-block. Castle to shoot them that should knock at 
 the Wicket-gate for entrance. They told me 
 also of the wood, and dark mountains, of the Hill Difficulty, 
 of the lions, and also of the three giants, Bloody-man, Maul, 
 and Slay-good. They said moreover, that there was a foul 
 fiend haunted the Valley of Humiliation; and that Chris- 
 tian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, 
 you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, 
 where the hobgoblins are, where the light is darkness, where 
 the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me 
 also of Giant Despair, of Doubting Castle, and of the ruins 
 that the pilgrims met with there. Further they said I must 
 go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And 
 that after all this, I should find a river, over which I should 
 find no bridge, and that the river did lie betwixt me and the 
 Celestial Country. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. And was this all ? 
 
 VALIANT. No. They also told me that this 
 
 The second. . J 
 
 way was lull or deceivers, and of persons that 
 lay await 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 
 
 there lie in wait to deceive. They also said 
 
 The third. . 
 
 that there was Formality and Hypocrisy con- 
 tinually on the road. They said also that By-ends, Talkative, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 309 
 
 or Demas would go near to gather me up; that the Flatterer 
 would catch me in his net; or that, with green-headed Igno- 
 rance, 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 byway to hell. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I promise you this was enough to discour- 
 age. But did they make an end here ? 
 
 VALIANT. No; stay. They told me also of many that 
 had tried that way of old, and that had gone a great way 
 The fourth therein, to see if they could find something of 
 
 the glory there, that so many had so much 
 talked of from time to time; and how they came back again, 
 and befooled themselves for setting a foot out-of-doors in 
 that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And they 
 named several that did so, as, Obstinate and Pliable, Mis- 
 trust and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several 
 more, who, they said, had, some of them, gone far to see if 
 they could find, but not one of them found so much advan- 
 tage 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 solitary that he 
 never had comfortable hour therein; also that 
 Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved 
 therein; yea, and also which I had almost forgot, that Chris- 
 tian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after 
 all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned 
 in the Black River, and never went foot farther, however it 
 was smothered up. 
 
 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? 
 
310 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 VALIANT. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had 
 said; and that carried me beyond them all. 
 
 How he got over 
 
 these stumbling- GREAT-HEART. Then this Was your victory, 
 
 blocks. . . , 
 
 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 valor see, 
 
 Let him come hither; 
 One here will constant be, 
 
 Come wind, come weather. 
 There's no discouragement 
 Shall make him once relent, 
 His first avow'd intent 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Whoso beset him round 
 
 With dismal stories, 
 Do but themselves confound, 
 
 His strength the more is. 
 No lion can him fright, 
 He'll with a giant fight, 
 But he will have a right 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Hobgoblin nor foul fiend 
 
 Can daunt his spirit; 
 He knows he at the end 
 
 Shall life inherit. 
 Then fancies fly away; 
 He'll fear not what men say; 
 He'll labor night and day 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, 
 where the air naturally tended to make one 
 
 page 168. drowsy. And that place was all grown over with 
 
 briers and thorns, excepting here and there, 
 
 where was an enchanted arbor, upon which if a man sits, or 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 311 
 
 in which if a man sleeps, 'tis a question, say some, whether 
 ever they shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this 
 forest, therefore, they went, both one with another, and Mr. 
 Great-heart went before, for that he was the guide; and Mr. 
 Valiant-for-truth, he came behind, being there a guard, for 
 fear test perad venture some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or 
 thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They 
 went on here each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for 
 they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered up 
 one another as well as they could: Feeble- mind, Mr. Great- 
 heart commanded should come up after him; and Mr. De- 
 spondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. 
 
 Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and a darkness 
 fell upon them all; so that they could scarce, for a great while, 
 see the one the other. Wherefore they were forced, for some 
 time, to feel for one another by words; for they walked not 
 by sight. 
 
 But any one must think that here was but sorry going for 
 the best of them all, but how much worse for the women and 
 children, who both of feet and heart were but tender. Yet 
 so it was, that through the encouraging words of him that 
 led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, 
 they made a pretty good shift to wag along. 
 
 The way also was here very wearisome, through dirt and 
 slabbiness. Nor was there on all this ground so much as one 
 inn or victualling house, therein to refresh the feebler sort. 
 Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing. 
 While one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in 
 the dirt; and the children, some of them, lost their shoes 
 in the mire. While one cries out, I am down; and an- 
 other, Ho, where are you? and a third, The bushes have 
 got such fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from 
 them. 
 
 Then they come at an arbor, warm, and promising much 
 refreshing to the pilgrims; for it was finely wrought above- 
 
312 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 head, beautified with greens, furnished with benches and 
 settles. It also had in it a soft couch, whereon 
 
 An arbor on the 
 
 Enchanting the weary might lean. This, you must think, 
 
 Ground. n i i i 
 
 all things considered, was tempting, for the 
 pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the 
 way; but there was not one of them that made so much as a 
 motion to stop there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they 
 continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, 
 and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature 
 of dangers when they were at them, that usually, when they 
 
 were nearest to them, they did most pluck up 
 thewbor* their spirits, and hearten one another to deny 
 
 the flesh. This arbor was called the Slothful's 
 Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of the pil- 
 grims there to take up their rest when weary. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their 
 solitary ground, till they came to a place at which a man is 
 The wa apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was 
 
 difficult to find. light, their guide could well enough tell how to 
 The guide has a miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark 
 
 map of all ways , , , , , , , . , . 
 
 leading to or he was put to a stand; but he had in his pocket 
 a map of all ways leading to or from the Celes- 
 tial City; wherefore he struck a light (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 all, in probability, been smothered in the 
 mud; for just a little before them, and that at the end of the 
 cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of 
 nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the 
 pilgrims in. 
 
 Then thought I with myself, Who that goeth on pilgrimage 
 but would have one of these maps about him, 
 
 God s Book. 
 
 that he may look when he is at a stand, which 
 is the way he must take? 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 313 
 
 They went on then in this Enchanted Ground till they 
 
 came to where was another arbor, and it was built by the 
 
 highway side. And in that arbor there lay two 
 
 An arbor, and " 
 
 two asleep men, whose names were Heedless and loo-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 pilgrims saw 
 them, they stood still and shook their heads, for they knew 
 that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted 
 what to do, whether to go on and leave them in their sleep, 
 or to step to them and try to awake them. So they con- 
 cluded to go to them and wake them, that is, if they could; 
 but with this caution, namely, to take heed that themselves 
 did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit of that 
 arbor. 
 
 So they went in and spake to the men, and called each by 
 
 his name (for the guide, it seems, did know them) ; but there 
 
 was no voice nor answer. Then the guide did 
 
 l h wake g thTm. try shake them > and d what he COuld to disturb 
 
 them. Then said one of them, I will pay you 
 when I take my money. At which the guide shook his head. 
 I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said 
 the other. At that one of the children laughed. 
 
 Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this ? The 
 guide said, They talk in their sleep. If you strike them, beat 
 
 them, or whatever else you do to them, they 
 l h ffui e ae d sT VOT wil1 answer you after this fashion; or as one of 
 
 them said in old time, when the waves of the 
 sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of 
 
 a ship, "When I awake, I will seek it again." 
 M^Ssf**"' ^ ou 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 
 
314 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 on't, when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, 'tis twenty to one 
 but they are served thus. For this Enchanted Ground is 
 one of the last refuges that the enemy to pilgrims has; where- 
 fore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and 
 so it standeth against us with the more advantage. For 
 when, thinks the enemy, will these fools be s/) desirous to sit 
 down as when they are weary ? and when so like to be weary 
 as when almost at their journey's end ? Therefore it is, I 
 say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the 
 land of Beulah, and so near the end of their race. Wherefore 
 let pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them as it 
 has done to these, that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and 
 none can wake them. 
 
 Then the pilgrims desired with trembling to go forward, 
 
 only they prayed their guide to strike a light, 
 the e word that they might go the rest of their way by the 
 
 2 Pet. i. 19. ne ^P f ^ ne %ht of a lantern. So he struck a 
 
 light, c,nd they went by the help of that through 
 the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great. 
 But the children began to be sorely weary, and they cried 
 
 out unto Him that loveth pilgrims to make 
 jm%w?* their wa y more comfortable. So by that they 
 
 had gone a little farther, a wind arose, that 
 drove away the fog; so the air became more clear. 
 
 Yet they were not off (by much) of the Enchanted Ground; 
 only now they could see one another better, and the way 
 wherein they should walk. 
 
 Now when they were almost at the end of this ground, 
 they perceived that, a little before them, was a solemn noise, 
 as of one that was much concerned. So they went on and 
 
 looked before them; and, behold, they saw, as 
 s in'the they thought, a man upon his knees, with hands 
 
 Enchanted an(J eyes ]ift up> and spea ki ng> ag tne y thought, 
 
 earnestly to one that was above. They drew 
 nigh, but could not tell what he said; so they went 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 315 
 
 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, So-ho! friend, let us have 
 your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial 
 City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But 
 so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I know 
 this man ' Then said Mr ' Valiant-for-truth, 
 Prithee, who is it? 'Tis one, said he, that 
 comes from whereabouts I dwelt. His name is Stand-fast: 
 he is certainly a right good pilgrim. 
 
 So they came up one to another; and presently Stand- fast 
 
 said to old Honest, Ho, Father Honest, are you there? Ay, 
 
 said he, that I am, as sure as you are there. 
 
 ?j!lfa Ri g ht lad am L said Mr - Stand-fast, that I 
 have found you on this road. And as glad am 
 I, said the other, that I espied you upon your knees. Then 
 Mr. Stand-fast blushed, and 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, 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 he saith, "Blessed is the 
 man that feareth always." 
 
 VALIANT. Well, but brother, I pray thee, 
 
 tel1 us what was ' li that was the cause of thv 
 
 being upon thy knees even now? Was it for 
 that some special mercy laid obligations upon thee, or how ? 
 STAND-FAST. Why, we are, as you see, upon 
 
 What it was that * * 
 
 fetched him upon the Enchanted Ground; and as I was coming 
 
 along, I was musing with myself of what a 
 
 dangerous road the road in this place was, and how 
 
316 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here 
 been stopped, and been destroyed. I thought also of the 
 manner of the death here with which this place destroyeth 
 men. Those that die here die of no violent distemper. The 
 death which such die is not grievous to them; for he that 
 goeth away in a sleep begins that journey with desire and 
 pleasure; yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. 
 
 HON. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did 
 you see the two men asleep in the arbor ? 
 
 STAND-FAST. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there, 
 and for aught I know, there they will lie till they rot. But 
 let me go on in my tale. As I was thus mus- 
 ing, as I said, there was one in very pleasant 
 attire, but old, that presented herself unto me, and offered 
 me three things, to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. 
 Now the truth is, I was both 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 put by my 
 repulses, and smiled. Then I began to be angry, but she 
 mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, 
 and said, If I would be ruled by her, she would make me 
 great and happy; for, said she, I am the mistress of the world, 
 and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name, 
 and she told me it was Madam Bubble. This 
 
 Madam Bubble, 
 
 or this vain set me further from her; but she still followed 
 
 me with enticements. Then I betook me, as 
 you see, 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 be- 
 lieve she intended no good, but rather sought to make stop 
 of me in my journey. 
 
 HON. Without doubt her designs were bad. But stay, 
 now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have 
 read some story of her. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 317 
 
 STAND-FAST. Perhaps you have done both. 
 
 HON. Madam Bubble! is she not a tall, comely dame, 
 something of a swarthy complexion ? 
 
 STAND-FAST. Right, you hit it; she is just such an one. 
 
 HON. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a 
 smile at the end of a sentence? 
 
 STAND-FAST. You fall right upon it again, for these are 
 her very actions. 
 
 HON. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side, and 
 is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that 
 was her heart's delight? 
 
 STAND-FAST. 'Tis just so; had she stood by all this while, 
 you could not more amply have set her forth before me, nor 
 have better described her features. 
 
 HON. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, 
 and he that wrote of her said true. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue 
 of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted. Whoever 
 r , ,, doth lay their head down in her lap, had as 
 
 1 he world. 
 
 good lay it down upon that block over which 
 
 James it;. 4. J 
 
 the axe doth hang; and whoever lay their eyes 
 upon her beauty, are counted the enemies of 
 God. This is she that maintaineth in their splendor all 
 those that are the enemies of pilgrims; yea, this is she that 
 has bought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a 
 great gossiper; she is always, both she and her daughters, at 
 one pilgrim's heels or other, now commending, and then pre- 
 ferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impu- 
 dent slut; she will talk with any man. She always laugheth 
 poor pilgrims to scorn, but highly commends the rich. If 
 there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will speak 
 well of him from house to house. She loveth banqueting and 
 feasting mainly well; she is always at one full table or an- 
 other. She has given it out in some places that she is a god- 
 dess, and therefore some do worship her. She has her times 
 
318 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 and open places of cheating; and she will say and avow it, 
 that none can show a good comparable to hers. She prom- 
 iseth to dwell with children's children, if they will but love 
 and make much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold 
 like dust, in some places, and to some persons. She loves 
 to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of 
 men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, 
 and she loves them most that think best of her. She will 
 promise to some crowns and kingdoms if they will but take 
 her advice, yet many has 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 her; for whither might she have drawn me? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Whither! nay, none but God knows 
 whither. But in general, to be sure, she would 
 
 1 Tim. m. 9. 
 
 have drawn thee into many foolish and hurt- 
 ful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition." 
 
 'Twas she that set Absalom against his father, and Jero- 
 boam against his master. 'Twas she that persuaded Judas 
 to sell his Lord; and that prevailed with Demas to forsake 
 the godly pilgrim's life. None can tell of the mischief that 
 she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, 
 betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbor and neighbor, 
 betwixt a man and his wife, betwixt a man and himself, be- 
 twixt the flesh and the heart. 
 
 Wherefore, good master Stand-fast, be as your name is, and 
 when you have done all, stand. 
 
 At this discourse there was among the pilgrims a mixture 
 of joy and trembling, but at length they brake out, and sang 
 
 What danger is the pilgrim in ! 
 
 How many are his foes ! 
 How many ways there are to sin 
 
 No living mortal knows. 
 Some of the ditch shy are, yet can 
 
 Lie tumbling on the mire: 
 Some, though they shun the frying-pan, 
 
 Do leap into the fire. 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 319 
 
 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 
 polJi? 191 while to rest. And because this country was 
 
 common for pilgrims, and because the orchards 
 and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the 
 Celestial Country, therefore they were licensed to make bold 
 with any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them 
 here; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually 
 sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep; and yet 
 they received as much refreshing as if they had slept their 
 sleep never so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that 
 walked the streets was, More pilgrims are come to town. 
 And another would answer, saying, And so many went over 
 the water, and were let in at the golden gates to-day. They 
 would cry again, There is now a legion of Shining Ones just 
 come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims 
 upon the road, for here they come to wait for them, and to 
 comfort them after all their sorrow. Then the pilgrims got 
 up and walked to and fro; but how were their ears now filled 
 with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with celestial 
 visions! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt 
 nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing, that was offensive to 
 
 their stomach or mind: only when they tasted 
 
 Death bitter to '.' , 
 
 the flesh, but or the water of the river, over which they were 
 to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish 
 to the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was down. 
 
 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 
 nd 3 discoursed how the river to some had had its 
 ^tide* flowings, and what ebbings it has had while 
 others have gone over. It has been in a man- 
 ner 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 
 
320 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 all chief spices. With these the pilgrims' chambers were per- 
 fumed, while they stayed here; and with these were their 
 bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river when 
 the time appointed was come. 
 
 Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, 
 there was a noise in the town that there was a post come from 
 the Celestial City, with matter of great importance, to one 
 A messen er of Christiana, the wife of Christian the pilgrim. 
 Death sent to g o inquiry was made for her, and the house was 
 
 Christiana. 
 
 found out where she was. So the post pre- 
 
 sented her with a letter, the contents whereof 
 
 was, 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 immortality, within this ten days. 
 
 When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith 
 
 a sure token that he was a true messenger, and 
 
 How welcome is 1*11 i i i 
 
 death to them was come to bid her make haste to be gone. 
 
 to a do h but ^die 9 The token was > an arrow with a P int sharpened 
 with love, let easily into her heart, which by de- 
 
 grees wrought so effectually with her, that at the time ap- 
 
 pointed she must be gone. , 
 
 When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she 
 
 was the first of this company that was to go over, she called 
 for Mr. Great-heart, her guide, and told him 
 
 he e r r g 9 uide ht how matters were. So he told her he was 
 heartily glad of the news, and could have been 
 
 glad had the post come for him. Then she bid that he should 
 
 give advice how all things should be prepared for her journey. 
 
 So he told her, saying, Thus and thus it must be, and we that 
 
 survive will accompany you to the river-side. 
 
 Then she called for her children, and gave them her bless- 
 
 ing, and told them that she yet read with comfort, the mark 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 321 
 
 that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with 
 her there, and that they had kept their garments 
 
 To her children. r 
 
 so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor 
 that little she had, and commanded her sons and her daugh- 
 ters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. 
 When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her 
 
 children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, 
 
 To Mr. Valiant. 
 
 and said unto him, Sir, you have in all places 
 showed yourself true-hearted; be faithful unto death, and my 
 King will give you a crown of life. I would also entreat you 
 to have an eye to my children, and if at any time you see 
 
 them faint, speak comfortably to them. For 
 Stand-fast. mv daughters, my sons' wives, they have been 
 
 faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise upon 
 them will be their end. But she gave Mr. Stand-fast a ring. 
 Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, Be- 
 hold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile. Then said he, 
 
 I wish you a fair day when .you set out for 
 
 10 old Honest. 
 
 Mount Zion, and shall be glad to see that you 
 go over the river dry-shod. But she answered, Come wet, 
 come dry, I long to be gone; for however the weather is in 
 my journey, I shall have time enough when I come there to 
 sit down and rest me, and dry me. 
 
 Then came in that good man, Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see 
 
 her. So she said to him, Thy travel hither has 
 'lUady-to-halt. ^ een w i tn difficulty, but that will make thy rest 
 
 the sweeter. But watch and be ready, for at 
 an hour when you think not, the messenger may come. 
 
 After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his daughter 
 Much-afraid, to whom she said, You ought with thankfulness, 
 
 forever to remember your deliverance from the 
 IniSZ^r. 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. 
 
322 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 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 forever, and see thy 
 
 To Feeble-mind. . . 
 
 King with comfort. Only I advise thee to re- 
 pent thee of thy 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 bevond the river were full 
 
 Her last day and . 
 
 manner of of horses and chariots, w r hich were come down 
 
 departure. 
 
 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 
 word she was heard to say here was, I come, Lord, to be with 
 thee, and bless thee. 
 
 So her children and friends returned to their place, for that 
 those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their 
 sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate 
 with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had 
 done before her. 
 
 At her departure her children wept, but Mr. Great-heart 
 and Mr. Valiant played upon the well- tuned cymbal and harp 
 for joy. So all departed to their respective places. 
 
 In process of time there came a post to the town again, 
 
 and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired 
 
 him out, and said to him, I am come to thee in 
 
 ^mmon'ed^ the name of Him whom thou hast loved and 
 
 followed, though upon crutches; and my mes- 
 sage is to tell thee that he expects thee at his table to sup 
 with him in his kingdom, the next day after Easter; wherefore 
 prepare thyself for this journey. 
 
 Then he also gave him a token that he was 
 
 Eccles. xn. 6. . 
 
 a true messenger, saying, I have broken thy 
 
 golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord. 
 
 After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow pilgrims, 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 323 
 
 and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely 
 
 visit you also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his will. 
 
 And because he had nothing to bequeath to 
 
 Promises. . , . 
 
 them that should survive him but his crutches, 
 and his good wishes, therefore thus he said: 
 These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my 
 steps, with an hundred warm wishes that he may prove bet- 
 ter than I have done. 
 
 Then he thanked Mr. Great- heart for his conduct and kind- 
 ness, and so addressed himself to his journey. When he came 
 at the brink of the river, he said, Now I shall 
 
 His last words. 
 
 have no more need of these crutches, since yon- 
 der are chariots and horses for me to ride on. The last words 
 he was heard to say were Welcome life! So he went his 
 way. 
 
 After this Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him, that 
 the post sounded his horn at his chamber door. Then he 
 
 came in and told him, saying, I am come to tell 
 summoned. thee that thy Master has need of thee, and that 
 
 Eccles. xii 3 m verv little time thou must behold his face in 
 
 brightness. And take this as a token of the 
 truth of my message: Those that look out at the windows 
 shall be darkened. 
 
 Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them 
 what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he 
 
 had received of the truth of the message. Then 
 ui U makes no he said, Since I have nothing to bequeath to 
 
 any, to what purpose should I make a will ? 
 As for my feeble mind, that I will leave behind me; for that I 
 have no need of that in the place whither I go; nor is it worth 
 bestowing upon the poorest pilgrim; Wherefore, when I am 
 gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a 
 
 dunghill. This done, and the day being come 
 
 His last words. . . 
 
 in which he was to depart, he entered the river 
 as the rest. His last words were, Hold out, faith and pa- 
 tience. So he went over to the other side. 
 
324 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 When days had many of them passed away, Mr. Despon- 
 dency was sent for. For a post was come, and 
 Despondency's brought this message to him: Trembling man, 
 these are to summon thee to be ready with thy 
 King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy for thy deliver- 
 ance from all thy doubtings. 
 
 And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take 
 
 this for a proof: so he gave him, "The Grasshopper to be a 
 
 burden unto him." Now Mr. Despondency's 
 
 daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, 
 
 ^daughter when ghe fe^ what wag ^^ ^^ ghe WOU J ( J 
 
 go with her father. Then Mr. Despondency 
 said to his friends, Myself and my daughter, you know what 
 we have been, and how troublesomely we have behaved our- 
 selves in every company. My will and my daughter's is, 
 
 that our desponds, and slavish fears, be by no 
 
 His will. i < 
 
 man ever received, trom the day ot our depar- 
 ture, forever; for I know that after my death they will offer 
 themselves to others. For, to be plain with you, they are 
 ghosts, the which we entertained when we first began to be 
 pilgrims, and could never shake them off after; and they will 
 walk about and seek 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 Mr. Despondency 
 
 were, Farewell night; welcome day! His 
 
 His last words. . . , 
 
 daughter went through the river singing, but 
 none could understand what she said. 
 
 Then it came to pass, a while after, that there was a post 
 in the town that inquired for Mr. Honest. So he came to 
 
 his house where he was, and delivered to his 
 
 Summoned. hand these lines: Tnou art commanded to be 
 
 ready against this day sevennight; to present 
 
 thyself before thy Lord at his Father's house. And for a 
 
 token that my message is true, "All thy daughters of music 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 325 
 
 shall be brought low." Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, 
 and said unto them, I die, but shall make no 
 will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me; let 
 
 day that he was to be gone was come, he ad- 
 
 dressed himself to go over the river. Now the river at that 
 
 time overflowed the banks in some places, but 
 
 hood-conscience . ... 
 
 helps Mr. Honest Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to one 
 
 Good-conscience to meet him 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-f or- truth 
 was taken with a summons, by the same post as the other, 
 
 and had this for a token that the summons was 
 summoneT true: "That his pitcher was broken at the foun- 
 Ecdes xii 6 tain." When he understood it, he called for 
 
 his friends and told them of it. Then said he, 
 I am going to my fathers, and though with great difficulty I 
 am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble 
 I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to 
 
 him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, 
 
 His will. . . 
 
 and my courage and skill to him that can get 
 it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for 
 me that I have fought His battles who now will be my re- 
 warder. When the day that he must go hence was come, 
 many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he 
 
 went he said, "Death, where is thy sting?" 
 
 His last words. J * 
 
 And as he went down deeper, he said, Grave, 
 where is thy victory ?" So he passed over, and all the trum- 
 pets sounded for him on the other side. 
 
 Then there came forth a summons for Mr. 
 ^summoned! 1 Stand-fast (this Mr. Stand-fast was he that the 
 
 rest of the pilgrims found upon his knees in the 
 Enchanted Ground), for the post brought it him open in his 
 
326 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 hands. The contents whereof were, That he must prepare 
 for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he 
 should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Stand-fast 
 was put into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you need not 
 doubt of the truth of my message, for here is a token of the 
 
 truth thereof, "Thy wheel is broken at the 
 
 cistern." Then he called to him Mr. Great- 
 ^Ir^areat-heart. heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, 
 
 Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in 
 your good company in the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since 
 the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When 
 
 I came from home, I left behind me a wife and 
 him. Speech t0 five sma11 children; let me entreat you at your 
 
 return (for I know that you will go and return 
 to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a con- 
 ductor to more of the holy pilgrims) that you send to my 
 
 family, and let them be acquainted with all that 
 to3* hath and shall happen unto me. Tell them, 
 
 moreover, of my happy arrival to this place, and 
 of the present late blessed condition that I am in. Tell them 
 also of Christian and Christiana his wife, and how she and her 
 children came after her husband. Tell them also, of what a 
 happy end she made, and whether she is gone. I have little 
 or nothing to send to my family, except it be prayers and 
 tears for them; of which it will suffice if thou acquaint them, 
 if peradventure they may prevail. 
 
 When Mr. Stand-fast had thus set things in order, and the 
 time being come for him to haste him away, he also went 
 down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time 
 in the river; wherefore Mr. Stand-fast, when he was about 
 half-way in, he stood a while, and talked to his 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 frighted me. But now methinks I stand 
 easy ; my foot is fixed upon that upon which the feet of the 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 327 
 
 priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, while Israel 
 went over this Jordan. The waters, indeed, are 
 
 His last words. 
 
 to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold; 
 yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of 
 the conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie 
 as a glowing coal at my heart. 
 
 I see myself now at the end of my journey, my toilsome 
 days are ended. I am going now to see that head that was 
 crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon, for me. 
 
 I have formerly lived by hearsay, and faith, but now I go 
 where I shall live by sight, and shall be with Him in whose 
 company I delight myself. 
 
 I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of, and wherever I 
 have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have 
 coveted to set my foot too. 
 
 His name has been to me as a civet box; yea, sweeter than 
 all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet, and his 
 countenance I have more desired than they that have most 
 desired the light of the sun. His Word I did use to gather 
 for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. He has 
 held me, and I have kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my 
 steps hath he strengthened in his way. 
 
 Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance 
 changed, his strong man bowed under him; and after he had 
 said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased to be seen of 
 them. 
 
 But glorious it was, to see how the open region was filled 
 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 children, the four boys that Christiana 
 brought with her, with their wives and children, I did not 
 stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I came 
 away, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and so would 
 
328 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 be for the increase of the Church in that place where they 
 were for a time. 
 
 Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those 
 that desire it an account of what I here am silent about. 
 Meanwhile I bid my reader Adieu. 
 

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