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Pilgrims Progress
The
Authors Apology for this Book
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place
where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep: and, as I slept,
I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags, standing
in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and
a great burden upon his back. I looked, and saw him open the book, and read
therein; and, as he read, he wept, and trembled; and, not being able longer
to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, What shall I do? In this plight, therefore, he went home and refrained himself as long as he
could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress; but he could
not be silent long, because that his trouble increased. Wherefore at length
he brake his mind to his wife and children; and thus he began to talk to them:
O my dear wife, said he, and you the children of my bowels, I, your dear friend,
am in myself undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me; moreover,
I am for certain informed that this our city will be burned with fire from heaven;
in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my wife, and you my sweet
babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way
of escape can be found, whereby we may be delivered. At this his relations were
sore amazed; not for that they believed that what he had said to them was true,
but because they thought that some frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore,
it drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains,
with all haste they got him to bed. But the night was as troublesome to him
as the day; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears.
So, when the morning was come, they would know how he did. He told them, Worse
and worse: he also set to talking to them again; but they began to be hardened.
They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriages to
him; sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes
they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber,
to pray for and pity them, and also to condole his own misery; he would also
walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying: and
thus for some days he spent his time. Now, I saw, upon a time, when he was walking in the fields, that he was, as
he was wont, reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind; and, as
he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, What shall I do to be
saved? I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would run; yet he
stood still, because, as I perceived, he could not tell which way to go. I looked
then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, who asked, Wherefore dost
thou cry? He answered, Sir, I perceive by the book in my hand, that I am condemned
to die, and after that to come to judgment; and I find that I am not willing
to do the first, nor able to do the second. Christian no sooner leaves the World but meets Evangelist, who lovingly him
greets With tidings of another: and doth shew Him how to mount to that from
this below. Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with
so many evils? The man answered, Because I fear that this burden that is upon
my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophet. And,
Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment,
and from thence to execution; and the thoughts of these things make me cry. Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why standest thou still? He
answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll,
and there was written within, Flee from the wrath to come. The man, therefore, read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully, said,
Whither must I fly? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very
wide field, Do you see yonder wicket-gate? The man said, No. Then said the other,
Do you see yonder shining light? He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist,
Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto: so shalt thou see the
gate; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do.
So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now, he had not run far from
his own door, but his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him
to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, Life!
life! eternal life! So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the middle
of the plain. The neighbours also came out to see him run; and, as he ran, some mocked, others
threatened, and some cried after him to return; and, among those that did so,
there were two that resolved to fetch him back by force. The name of the one
was Obstinate and the name of the other Pliable. Now, by this time, the man
was got a good distance from them; but, however, they were resolved to pursue
him, which they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man,
Neighbours, wherefore are ye come? They said, To persuade you to go back with
us. But he said, That can by no means be; you dwell, said he, in the City of
Destruction, the place also where I was born: I see it to be so; and, dying
there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a place that
burns with fire and brimstone: be content, good neighbours, and go along with
me. OBSTINANCE: What! and leave our friends and our comforts behind us? CHRISTIAN: Yes, for that was his name, because that ALL which you shall forsake
is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy;
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. OBSTINANCE: What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to
find them? CHRISTIAN: I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth
not away, and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed, at the
time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in
my book. OBSTINANCE: Tush! said Obstinate, away with your book; will you go back with
us or no? CHRISTIAN: No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough. OBSTINANCE: Come, then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without
him; there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that, when they take
a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render
a reason. PLIABLE: Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good Christian says is
true, the things he looks after are better than ours: my heart inclines to go
with my neighbour. OBSTINANCE: 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. CHRISTIAN: Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour, Pliable; there are such
things to be had which I spoke of, and many more glorious besides. If you believe
not me, read here in this book; and for the truth of what is expressed therein,
behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it. PLIABLE: Well, neighbour Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a point;
I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him: but,
my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place? CHRISTIAN: I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to
a little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about the
way. PLIABLE: Come, then, good neighbour, let us be going. Then they went both together. OBSTINANCE: And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate; I will be no companion
of such misled, fantastical fellows. Now, I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable
went talking over the plain; and thus they began their discourse. CHRISTIAN: Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are persuaded
to go along with me. Had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of
the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have
given us the back. PLIABLE: Come, neighbour Christian, since there are none but us two here, tell
me now further what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. CHRISTIAN: I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them with
my tongue: but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my
book. PLIABLE: And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true? CHRISTIAN: Yes, verily; for it was made by Him that cannot lie. PLIABLE: Well said; what things are they? CHRISTIAN: There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life
to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom for ever. PLIABLE: Well said; and what else? CHRISTIAN: There are crowns and glory to be given us, and garments that will
make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven. PLIABLE: This is very
pleasant; and what else? CHRISTIAN: There shall be no more crying, nor Sorrow: for He that is owner
of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes. PLIABLE: And what company shall we have there? CHRISTIAN: There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, creatures that will
dazzle your eyes to look on them. There also you shall meet with thousands and
ten thousands that have gone before us to that place; none of them are hurtful,
but loving and holy; every one walking in the sight of God, and standing in
his presence with acceptance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders
with their golden crowns, there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden
harps, there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in
flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bear to
the Lord of the place, all well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment. PLIABLE: 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? CHRISTIAN: The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded that in this
book; the substance of which is, If we be truly willing to have it, he will
bestow it upon us freely. PLIABLE: Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things: come on,
let us mend our pace. CHRISTIAN: I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is
on my back. Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk they drew near
to a very miry slough, that was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless,
did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond. Here,
therefore, they wallowed for a being grievously bedaubed with the dirt; and
Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the
mire. PLIABLE: Then said Pliable; Ah! neighbour Christian, where are you now? CHRISTIAN: Truly, said Christian, I do not know. PLIABLE: At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow,
Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill
speed at our first setting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our journey's
end? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone
for me. And, with that, he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out of
the mire on that side of the slough which was next to his own house: so away
he went, and Christian saw him no more. Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Despond alone: but
still he endeavoured to struggle to that side of the slough that was still further
from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate; the which he did, but could
not get out, because of the burden that was upon his back: but I beheld in my
dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him, What he did
there? CHRISTIAN: Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man called Evangelist,
who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to come;
and as I was going thither I fell in here. Help. But why did not you look for the steps? CHRISTIAN: Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in.
Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand: so he gave him his hand, and he drew him
out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way. Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore, since
over this place is the way from the City of Destruction to yonder gate, is it
that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more
security? And he said unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be
mended; it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction
for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond;
for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth
in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all
of them get together, and settle in this place. And this is the reason of the
badness of this ground. It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should
remain so bad. His labourers also have, by the direction of His Majesty's surveyors,
been for above these sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of ground,
if perhaps it might have been mended: yea, and to my knowledge, said he, here
have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand cart-loads, yea, millions of
wholesome instructions, that have at all seasons been brought from all places
of the King's dominions, and they that can tell, say they are the best materials
to make good ground of the place; if so be, it might have been mended, but it
is the Slough of Despond still, and so will be when they have done what they
can. True, there are, by the direction of the Law-giver, certain good and substantial
steps, placed even through the very midst of this slough; but at such time as
this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather,
these steps are hardly seen; or, if they be, men, through the dizziness of their
heads, step beside, and then they are bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the
steps be there; but the ground is good when they are once got in at the gate. Now, I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his house
again, so that his neighbours came to visit him; and some of them called him
wise man for coming back, and some called him fool for hazarding himself with
Christian: others again did mock at his cowardliness; saying, Surely, since
you began to venture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a
few difficulties. So Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more
confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian
behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. Now, as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, he espied one afar off,
come crossing over the field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just as
they were crossing the way of each other. The gentleman's name that met him
was Mr. Worldly Wiseman, he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very great
town, and also hard by from whence Christian came. This man, then, meeting with
Christian, and having some inkling of him, -- for Christian's setting forth
from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, not only in the town where
he dwelt, but also it began to be the town talk in some other places, -- Mr.
Worldly Wiseman, therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious
going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter
into some talk with Christian. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened
manner? CHRISTIAN: A burdened manner, indeed, as ever, I think, poor creature had!
And whereas you ask me, Whither away? I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder
wicket-gate before me; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put into a way
to be rid of my heavy burden. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: Hast thou a wife and children? CHRISTIAN: Yes; but I am so laden with this burden that I cannot take that
pleasure in them as formerly; methinks I am as if I had none. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give thee counsel? CHRISTIAN: If it be good, I will; for I stand in need of good counsel. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get
thyself rid of thy burden; for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then;
nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessing which God hath bestowed upon
thee till then. CHRISTIAN: That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden;
but get it off myself, I cannot; nor is there any man in our country that can
take it off my shoulders; therefore am I going this way, as I told you, that
I may be rid of my burden. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden? CHRISTIAN: A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person;
his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: I beshrew him for his counsel! there is not a more dangerous
and troublesome way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee; and that thou shalt find, if thou
wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive, already;
for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is
the beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear
me, I am older than thou; thou art like to meet with, in the way which thou
goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions,
dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what not! These things are certainly
true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly
cast away himself, by giving heed to a stranger? CHRISTIAN: Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than all
these things which you have mentioned; nay, methinks I care not what I meet
with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: How camest thou by the burden at first? CHRISTIAN: By reading this book in my hand. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: I thought so; and it is happened unto thee as to other
weak men, who, meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into
thy distractions; which distractions do not only unman men, as thine, I perceive,
have done thee, but they run them upon desperate ventures to obtain they know
not what. CHRISTIAN: I know what I would obtain; it is ease for my heavy burden. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many
dangers attend it? especially since, hadst thou but patience to hear me, I could
direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the dangers that
thou in this way wilt run thyself into: yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides,
I will add, that instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet with much safety,
friendship, and content. CHRISTIAN: Pray, Sir, open this secret to me. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: Why, in yonder village -- the village is named Morality
-- there dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and
a man of very good name, that has skill to help men off with such burdens as
thine are from their shoulders: yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal
of good this way; ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat
crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go,
and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and
if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son,
whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman
himself; there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not
minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I would not wish thee,
thou mayest send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, where there
are houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable rates;
provision is there also cheap and good; and that which will make thy life the
more happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit
and good fashion. Now was Christian somewhat at a stand; but presently he concluded, if this
be true, which this gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice;
and with that he thus further spoke. CHRISTIAN: Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house? Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: Do you see yonder hill? CHRISTIAN: Yes, very well. Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: By that hill you must go, and the first house you come
at is his. So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality's house for help;
but, behold, when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so high, and also
that side of it that was next the wayside did hang so much over, that Christian
was afraid to venture further, lest the hill should fall on his head; wherefore
there he stood still and wotted not what to do. Also his burden now seemed heavier
to him than while he was in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of
the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned. Here, therefore,
he sweat and did quake for fear. When Christians unto carnal men give ear, Out of their way they go, and pay
for't dear; For Master Worldly Wiseman can but shew A saint the way to bondage
and to woe. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel.
And with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him; at the sight also of whom
he began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer; and coming
up to him, he looked upon him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and thus
began to reason with Christian. EVANGELIST: What dost thou here, Christian? said he: at which words Christian
knew not what to answer; wherefore at present he stood speechless before him.
Then said Evangelist further, Art not thou the man that I found crying without
the walls of the City of Destruction? CHRISTIAN: Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. EVANGELIST: Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket-gate? CHRISTIAN: Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. EVANGELIST: How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned aside? for thou
art now out of the way. CHRISTIAN: 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 would
take off my burden. EVANGELIST: What was he? CHRISTIAN: 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. EVANGELIST: What said that gentleman to you? CHRISTIAN: Why, he asked me whither I was going, and I told him. EVANGELIST: And what said he then? CHRISTIAN: 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. EVANGELIST: And what said he then? CHRISTIAN: He bid me with speed get rid of my burden; and I told him that it
was ease that I sought. And said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate, to
receive further direction how I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said
that he would shew me a better way, and short, not so attended with difficulties
as the way, Sir, that you set me in; which way, said he, will direct you to
a 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. EVANGELIST: Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I may shew thee
the words of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, See that ye refuse
not him that speaketh. For if they escaped not who refused him that spake on
earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh
from heaven. He said, moreover, Now the just shall live by faith: but if any
man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him. He also did thus apply
them: Thou art the man that art running into this misery; thou hast begun to
reject the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way
of peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition. Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying, Woe is me, for I am undone!
At the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, All manner
of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men. Be not faithless, but believing.
Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up trembling, as at first,
before Evangelist. Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earnest heed to the things that
I shall tell thee of. I will now shew thee who it was that deluded thee, and
who it was also to whom he sent thee. -- The man that met thee is one Worldly
Wiseman, and rightly is he so called; partly, because he savoureth only the
doctrine of this world (therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to
church): and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him
best from the cross. And because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh
to pervert my 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. First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; and thine own consenting
thereunto: because this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the
counsel of a Worldly Wiseman. The Lord says, Strive to enter in at the strait
gate, the gate to which I sent thee; for strait is the gate that leadeth unto
life, and few there be that find it. From this little wicket-gate, and from
the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost
to destruction; hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and abhor
thyself for hearkening to him. Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the cross odious unto thee;
for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt. Besides the King of
glory hath told thee, that he that will save his life shall lose it; and he
that cometh after me, and hateth 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 man to labour to persuade thee, that that shall be thy
death, without which, THE TRUTH hath said, thou canst not have eternal life;
this doctrine thou must abhor. Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth to
the ministration of death. And for this thou must consider to whom he sent thee,
and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden. He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is the son of the
bond-woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children; and is, in a mystery,
this Mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, if she,
with her children, are in bondage, how canst thou expect by them to be made
free? This Legality, therefore, is not able to set thee free from thy burden.
No man was as yet ever rid of his burden by him; no, nor ever is like to be:
ye cannot be justified by the works of the law; for by the deeds of the law
no man living can be rid of his burden: therefore, Mr. Worldly Wiseman is an
alien, and Mr. Legality is a cheat; and for his son Civility, notwithstanding
his 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 sottish men, but
a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, by turning thee from the way in which
I had set thee. After this, Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for confirmation
of what he had said: and with that there came words and fire out of the mountain
under which poor Christian stood, that made the hair of his flesh stand up.
The words were thus pronounced: As many as are of the works of the law are under
the curse; for it is written, Cursed is every one that continueth not in all
things which are written in the book of the law to do them. Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to cry out lamentably;
even cursing the time in which he met with Mr. Worldly Wiseman; still calling
himself a thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel; he also was greatly
ashamed to think that this gentle-man's arguments, flowing only from the flesh,
should have the prevalency with him as to cause him to forsake the right way.
This done, he applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follow: CHRISTIAN: Sir, what think you? Is there hope? May I now go back and go up
to the wicket-gate? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from thence
ashamed? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man's counsel. But may my sin be
forgiven? EVANGELIST: 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 goodwill
for men; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, lest thou
perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Then did Christian
address himself to go back; and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, gave him
one smile, and bid him God-speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake he
to any man by the way; nor, if any asked him, would he vouchsafe them an answer.
He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could
by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he
left, to follow Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel. So, in process of time, Christian
got up to the gate. Now, over the gate there was written, Knock, and it shall
be opened unto you. He that will enter in must first without Stand knocking at the Gate, nor need
he doubt That is A KNOCKER, but to enter in; For God can love him, and forgive
his sin. He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, saying -- May I now enter here? Will he within 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? CHRISTIAN: Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of Destruction,
but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from the wrath to come.
I would therefore, Sir, since I am informed that by this gate is the way thither,
know if you are willing to let me in? GOOD WILL: I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened
the gate. So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then said Christian,
What means that? The other told him. A little distance from this gate, there
is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the captain; from thence,
both he and them that are with him shoot arrows at those that come up to this
gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in. Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man
of the gate asked him who directed him thither? CHRISTIAN: Evangelist bid me come hither, 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. CHRISTIAN: Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards. GOOD WILL: But how is it that you came alone? CHRISTIAN: Because none of my neighbours saw their danger, as I saw mine. GOOD WILL: Did any of them know of your coming? CHRISTIAN: Yes; my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after
me to turn again; also, some of my neighbours stood crying and calling after
me to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came on my way. GOOD WILL: But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back? CHRISTIAN: 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? CHRISTIAN: We, indeed, came both together, until we came at the Slough of Despond,
into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my neighbour, Pliable, discouraged,
and would not venture further. Wherefore, getting out again on that side next
to his own house, he told me I should possess the brave country alone for him;
so he went his way, and I came mine -- he after Obstinate, and I to this gate. GOOD 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? CHRISTIAN: Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and if
I should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no betterment
betwixt him and myself. It is true, he went back to his own house, but I also
turned aside to go in the way of death, being persuaded thereto by the carnal
arguments of one Mr. Worldly Wiseman. GOOD 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? CHRISTIAN: 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; it is well you escaped being by it dashed in pieces. CHRISTIAN: Why, truly, I do not know what had become of me there, had not Evangelist
happily met me again, as I was musing in the midst of my dumps; but it was God's
mercy that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I
am come, such a one as I am, more fit, indeed, for death, by that mountain,
than thus to stand talking with my lord; but, oh, what a favour is this to me,
that yet I am admitted entrance here! GOOD WILL: We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they
have done before they came hither. They are in no wise cast out; and therefore,
good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about the way
thou must go. Look before thee; dost thou see this narrow. way? THAT is the
way thou must go; it was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and his
apostles; and it is as straight as a rule can make it. This is the way thou
must go. CHRISTIAN: But, said Christian, are there no turnings or windings by which
a stranger may lose his way? GOOD WILL: Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked
and wide. But thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the right
only being straight and narrow. Then I saw in my dream that Christian asked him further if he could not help
him off with his burden that was upon his back; for as yet he had not got rid
thereof, nor could he by any means get it off without help. He told him, As to thy burden, be content to bear it, until thou comest to
the place of deliverance; for there it will fall from thy back of itself. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, 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 shew him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his
friend, and he again bid him God-speed. Then he went on till he came to the house of the Interpreter, where he knocked
over and over; at last one came to the door, and asked who was there. CHRISTIAN: Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaintance of the
good-man of this house to call here for my profit; I would therefore speak with
the master of the house. So he called for the master of the house, who, after
a little time, came to Christian, and asked him what he would have. CHRISTIAN: Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the City of Destruction,
and am going to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the man that stands at the
gate, at, the head of this way, that if I called here, you would shew me excellent
things, such as would be a help to me in my journey. INTERPRETOR: Then said the Interpreter, Come in; I will shew that which will
be profitable to thee. So he commanded his man to light the candle, and bid
Christian follow him: so he had him into a private room, and bid his man open
a door; the which when he had done, Christian saw the picture of a very grave
person hung up against the wall; and this was the fashion of it. It had eyes
lifted up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, the law of truth was written
upon his lips, the world was behind his back. It stood as if it pleaded with
men, and a crown of gold did hang over his head. CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, What meaneth this? INTERPRETOR: The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand; he can beget
children, travail in birth with children, and nurse them himself when they are
born. And whereas thou seest him with his eyes lift up to heaven, the best of
books in his hand, and the law of truth writ on his lips, it is to shew thee
that his work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners; even as also thou
seest him stand as if he pleaded with men: and whereas thou seest the world
as cast behind him, and that a crown hangs over his head, that is to shew thee
that slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that
he hath to his Master's service, he is sure in the world that comes next to
have glory for his reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have shewed thee this
picture first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only man whom the
Lord of the place whither thou art going, hath authorised to be thy guide in
all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way; wherefore, take good
heed to what I have shewed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen,
lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right, but
their way goes down to death. Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour that was
full of dust, because never swept; the which after he had reviewed a little
while, the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now, when he began to sweep,
the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian had almost therewith
been choked. Then said the Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, Bring hither
the water, and sprinkle the room; the which, when she had done, it was swept
and cleansed with pleasure. CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, What means this? INTERPRETOR: The Interpreter answered, This parlour is the heart of a man that
was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the gospel; the dust is his original
sin and inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He that began to
sweep at first, is the Law; but she that brought water, and did sprinkle it,
is the Gospel. Now, whereas thou sawest, that so soon as the first began to
sweep, the dust did so fly about that the room by him could not be cleansed,
but that thou wast almost choked therewith; this is to shew thee, that the law,
instead of cleansing the heart (by its working) from sin, doth revive, put strength
into, and increase it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it, for
it doth not give power to subdue. Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upon which it
was cleansed with pleasure this is to shew thee, that when the gospel comes
in the sweet and precious influences thereof to the heart, then, I say, even
as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the floor with water, so
is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul made clean through the faith of
it, and consequently fit for the King of glory to inhabit. I saw, moreover, in my dream, that the Interpreter took him by the hand, and
had him into a little room, where sat two little children, each one in his chair.
The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the other Patience. Passion
seemed to be much discontented; but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian
asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion? The Interpreter answered,
The Governor of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning
of the next year; but he will have all now: but Patience is willing to wait. Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him a bag of treasure, and
poured it down at his feet, the which he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal
laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all
away, and had nothing left him but rags. CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more
fully to me. INTERPRETOR: So he said, These two lads are figures: Passion, of the men of
this world; and Patience, of the men of that which is to come; for as here thou
seest, Passion will have all now this year, that is to say, in this world; so
are the men of this world, they must have all their good things now, they cannot
stay till next year, that is until the next world, for their portion of good.
That proverb, 'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,' is of more authority
with them than are all the Divine testimonies of the good of the world to come.
But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently
left him nothing but rags; so will it be with all such men at the end of this
Mr WORLDLY WISEMAN: CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom,
and that upon many accounts. First, because he stays for the best things. Second,
and also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but
rags. INTERPRETOR: Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world
will never wear out; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not
so much reason to laugh at Patience, because he had his good things first, as
Patience will have to laugh at Passion, because he had his best things last;
for first must give place to last, because last must have his time to come;
but last gives place to nothing; for there is not another to succeed. He, therefore,
that hath his portion first, must needs have a time to spend it; but he that
hath his portion last, must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives,
Thou in thy life-time receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil
things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. CHRISTIAN: Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but
to wait for things to come. INTERPRETOR: You say the truth: For the things which are seen are temporal;
but the things which are not seen are eternal. But though this be so, yet since
things present and our fleshly appetite are such near neighbours one to another;
and again, because things to come, and carnal sense, are such strangers one
to another; therefore it is, that the first of these so suddenly fall into amity,
and that distance is so continued between the second. Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand, and
led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing
by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn
higher and hotter. Then said Christian, What means this? The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought in
the heart; he that casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out, is the
Devil; but in that thou seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter,
thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside
of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of the which
he did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire. Then said Christian, What means this? The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of
his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart: by the means of which,
notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his people prove gracious
still. And in that thou sawest that the man stood behind the wall to maintain
the fire, that is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how this
work of grace is maintained in the 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 desirous to go in;
but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a
table-side, with a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him
that should enter therein; he saw also, that in the doorway stood many men in
armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men that would enter what hurt and
mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, when every
man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout
countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying, Set down my
name, Sir: the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put
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 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
-- 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 shewed thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand again, and
led him into a very dark room, where there sat a man in an iron cage. Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad; he sat with his eyes looking down
to the ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he would break
his heart. Then said Christian, What means this? At which the Interpreter bid
him talk with the man. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou? The man answered, I am what
I was not once. CHRISTIAN: What wast thou once? MAN: The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing professor, both in mine
own eyes, and also in the eyes of others; I once was, as I thought, fair for
the Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get
thither. CHRISTIAN: 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! CHRISTIAN: But how camest thou in this condition? Man. I left off to watch and be sober. I laid the reins, upon the neck of my
lusts; I sinned against the light of the Word and the goodness of God; I have
grieved the Spirit, and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me;
I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me: I have so hardened my heart,
that I cannot repent. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a man
as this? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray, Sir, do you. INTERPRETOR: Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you must be kept
in the iron cage of despair? MAN: No, none at all. INTERPRETOR: Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. MAN: I have crucified him to myself afresh; I have despised his person; I have
despised his righteousness; I have counted his blood an unholy thing; I have
done despite to the Spirit of grace. Therefore I have shut myself out of all
the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful
threatenings, fearful threatenings, of certain judgment and fiery indignation,
which shall devour me as an adversary. INTERPRETOR: For what did you bring yourself into this condition? Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment
of which I did then promise myself much delight; but now every one of those
things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm. INTERPRETOR: 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! INTERPRETOR: Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery
be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee. CHRISTIAN: 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? INTERPRETOR: Tarry till I shall shew
thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way. So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber, where there
was one rising out of bed; and as he put on his raiment he shook and trembled.
Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble? The Interpreter then bid
him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This
night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew exceeding
black; also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me
into an agony; so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual
rate, upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit
upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven; they were all in flaming
fire: also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying,
Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment; and with that the rocks rent, the graves
opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding
glad, and looked upward; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains.
Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world
draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came
from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the
judge and the prisoners at the bar. 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 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 up 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 mind; and my conscience
did accuse me on every side. Upon this I awaked from my sleep. CHRISTIAN: But what is it that made you so afraid of this sight? Man. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was not ready
for it: but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several, and
left me behind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My
conscience, too, afflicted me; and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye
upon me, shewing indignation in his countenance. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all these things? CHRISTIAN: Yes, and they put me in hope and fear. INTERPRETOR: Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a goad
in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go. Then Christian
began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. Then said
the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Christian, to guide
thee in the way that leads to the City. So Christian went on his way, saying
-- Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was fenced
on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation. Up this way,
therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because
of the load on his back. He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, and upon that place
stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my
dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from
off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued
to do, till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw
it no more. Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said, with a merry heart,
'He hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.' Then he stood
still awhile to look and wonder; for it was very surprising to him, that the
sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked therefore,
and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters
down his cheeks. Now, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three Shining
Ones came to him and saluted him with Peace be unto thee. So the first said
to him, Thy sins be forgiven thee; the second stripped him of his rags, and
clothed him with change of raiment; the third also set a mark on his forehead,
and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he bade 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 -- I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, even until he came at a bottom,
where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon
their heels. The name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, and the third Presumption. Christian then seeing them lie in this case went to them, if peradventure he
might awake them, and cried, You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast,
for the Dead Sea is under you -- a gulf that hath no bottom. Awake, therefore,
and come away; be willing also, and I will help you off with your irons. He
also told them, If he that goeth about like a roaring lion comes by, you will
certainly become a prey to his teeth. With that they looked upon him, and began
to reply in this sort: Simple said, 'I see no danger;' Sloth said, 'Yet a little
more sleep;' and Presumption said, 'Every fat must stand upon its own bottom;
what is the answer else that I should give thee?' And so they lay down to sleep
again, and Christian went on his way. Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem
the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by awakening of
them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons.
And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men come tumbling over the
wall on the left hand of the narrow way; and they made up apace to him. The
name of the one was Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I
said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with them into discourse. CHRISTIAN: Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither go you? FORMALIST & HYPOCRISY: We were born in the land of Vain-Glory, and are going
for praise to Mount Zion. CHRISTIAN: Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning
of the way? Know you not that it is written, that he that cometh not in by the
door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber? FORMALIST & HYPOCRISY: 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. CHRISTIAN: But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city
whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will? FORMALIST & HYPOCRISY: They told him, that, as for that, he needed not to trouble
his head thereabout; for what they did they had custom for; and could produce,
if need were, testimony that would witness it for more than a thousand years. CHRISTIAN: But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law? FORMALIST & HYPOCRISY: They told him, That custom, it being of so long a standing
as above a thousand years, would, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal
by any impartial judge; and besides, said they, if we get into the way, what's
matter which way we get in? if we are in, we are in; thou art but in the way,
who, as we perceive, came in at the gate; and we are also in the way, that came
tumbling over the wall; wherein, now, is thy condition better than ours? CHRISTIAN: I walk by the rule of my Master: you walk by the rude working of
your fancies. You are counted thieves already, by the Lord of the way; therefore,
I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in by
yourselves, without his direction; and shall go out by yourselves, without his
mercy. To this they made him but little answer; only they bid him look to himself.
Then I saw that they went on every man in his way without much conference one
with another, save that these two men told Christian, that as to laws and ordinances,
they doubted not but they should as conscientiously do them as he; therefore,
said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us but by the coat that is
on thy back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbours, to
hide the shame of thy nakedness. CHRISTIAN: By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not
in by the door. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by
the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness
with. And I take it as a token of his kindness to me; for I had nothing but
rags before. And besides, thus I comfort myself as I go: Surely, think I, when
I come to the gate of the city, the Lord thereof will know me for good since
I have this coat on my back -- a coat that he gave me freely in the day that
he stripped me of my rags. I have, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which,
perhaps, you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates
fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you,
moreover, that I had then given me a roll, sealed, to comfort me by reading
as I go on the way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in token
of my certain going in after it; all which things, I doubt, you want, and want
them because you came not in at the gate. To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each other,
and laughed. Then, I saw that they went on all, save that Christian kept before,
who had no more talk but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly, and sometimes
comfortably; also he would be often reading in the roll that one of the Shining
Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed. I beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the Hill
Difficulty; at the bottom of which was a spring. There were also in the same
place two other ways besides that which came straight from the gate; one turned
to the left hand, and the other to the right, at the bottom of the hill; but
the narrow way lay right up the hill, and the name of the going up the side
of the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the spring, and drank
thereof, to refresh himself, and then began to go up the hill, saying -- The other two also came to the foot of the hill; but when they saw that the
hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go, and supposing
also that these two ways might meet again, with that up which Christian went,
on the other side of the hill, therefore they were resolved to go in those ways.
Now the name of one of these ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction.
So the one took the way which is called Danger, which led him into a great wood,
and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a
wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no
more. Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end? Shall they at all have safety
for their friend? No, no; in headstrong manner they set out, And headlong will
they fall at last, no doubt. I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived
he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and
his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now, about the midway to the
top of the hill was a pleasant arbour, made by the Lord of the hill for the
refreshing of weary travellers; thither, therefore, Christian got, where also
he sat down to rest him. Then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read
therein to his comfort; he also now began afresh to take a review of the coat
or garment that was given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself
awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which
detained him in that place until it was almost night; and in his sleep, his
roll fell out of his hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and
awaked him, saying, Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise.
And with that Christian started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace,
till he came to the top of the hill. Now, when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men running
to meet him amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the other, Mistrust;
to whom Christian said, Sirs, what's the matter? You run the wrong way. Timorous
answered, that they were going to the City of Zion, and had got up that difficult
place; but, said he, the further 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. CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but whither shall I fly
to be safe? If I go back to mine own country, that is prepared for fire and
brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there. If I can get to the Celestial
City, I am sure to be in safety there. I must venture. To go back is nothing
but death; to go forward is fear of death, and life-everlasting beyond it. I
will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill, and Christian
went on his way. But, thinking again of what he had heard from the men, he felt
in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be comforted; but
he felt, and found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not
what to do; for he wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should
have been his pass into the Celestial City. Here, therefore, he begun to be
much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself that he
had slept in the arbour that is on the side of the hill; and, falling down upon
his knees, he asked God's forgiveness for that his foolish act, and then went
back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently
set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he
wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in
that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness.
Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all
the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his comfort
so many times in his journey. He went thus, till he came again within sight
of the arbour where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the
more, by bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. Thus,
therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, O wretched man
that I am that I should sleep in the day-time! that I should sleep in the midst
of difficulty! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease
to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of
the spirits of pilgrims! How many steps have I 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 arbour again, where for a while he sat
down and wept; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking sorrowfully
down under the settle, there he espied his roll; the which he, with trembling
and haste, catched up, and put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joyful
this man was when he had gotten his roll again! for this roll was the assurance
of his life and acceptance at the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in
his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay,
and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But oh, how nimbly
now did he go up the rest of the hill! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down
upon Christian; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to
his remembrance; and thus he again began to condole with himself: O thou sinful
sleep; how, for thy sake, am I like to be benighted in my journey! I must walk
without the sun; darkness must cover the path of my feet; and I must hear the
noise of the doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep. Now also he remembered
the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of; how they were frighted with
the sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range
in the night for their prey; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how
should I shift them? How should I escape being by them torn in pieces? Thus
he went on his way. But while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage,
he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him,
the name of which was Beautiful; and it stood just by the highway side. So I saw in my dream that he made haste and went forward, that if possible
he might get lodging there. Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very
narrow passage, which was about a furlong off 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 where it is, and for discovery of those that had none. Keep in
the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee. Difficulty is behind, Fear is before, Though he's got on the hill, the lions
roar; A Christian man is never long at ease, When one fright's gone, another
doth him seize. Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good
heed to the directions of the porter; he heard them roar, but they did him no
harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the
gate where the porter was. Then said Christian to the porter, Sir, what house
is this? And may I lodge here to-night? The porter answered, This house was
built by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief and security of
pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was, and whither he was going. CHRISTIAN: I am come from the City of Destruction, and am going to Mount Zion;
but because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. PORTER: What is your name? CHRISTIAN: 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. PORTER: But how doth it happen that you come so late? The sun is set. CHRISTIAN: I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am! I slept
in the arbour 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. PORTER: Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if
she likes your talk, bring you into the rest of the family, according to the
rules of the house. So Watchful, the porter, rang a bell, at the sound of which
came out at the door of the house a grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion,
and asked why she was called. The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the City of Destruction
to Mount Zion, but being weary and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge
here tonight; 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, because, by what I perceive, this place was built by
the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of pilgrims. So she smiled,
but the water stood in her eyes; and after a little pause, she said, I will
call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called
out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him,
had him into the family; and many of them, meeting him at the threshold of the
house, said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; this house was built by the
Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. Then he bowed his
head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in and sat down,
they gave him something to drink, and consented together, that until supper
was ready, some of them should have some particular discourse with Christian,
for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and
Charity to discourse with him; and thus they began: PIETY: Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving to you, to receive
you in our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better ourselves thereby,
talk with you of all things that have happened to you in your pilgrimage. CHRISTIAN: With a very good will, and I am glad that you are so well disposed. PIETY: What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life? CHRISTIAN: I was driven out of my native country by a dreadful sound that was
in mine ears: to wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend me, if I abode
in that place where I was. PIETY: But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way? CHRISTIAN: It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of destruction,
I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a man, even to me, as
I was trembling and weeping, whose name is Evangelist, and he directed me to
the wicket-gate, which else I should never have found, and so set me into the
way that hath led me directly to this house. PIETY: But did you not come by the house of the Interpreter? CHRISTIAN: Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will
stick by me as long as I live; especially three things -- to wit, how Christ,
in despite of Satan, maintains his work of grace in the heart; how the man had
sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy; and also the dream of him
that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come. PIETY: Why, did you hear him tell his dream? CHRISTIAN: 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 that you saw at the house of the Interpreter? CHRISTIAN: No; he took me and had me where he shewed me a stately palace, and
how the people were clad in gold that were in it; and how there came a venturous
man and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him
out, and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal glory. Methought those things
did ravish my heart! 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? CHRISTIAN: 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. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing
before; yea, and while I stood looking up, for then I could not forbear looking,
three Shining Ones came to me. One of them testified that my sins were forgiven
me; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you
see; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this
sealed roll. (And with that he plucked it out of his bosom.) PIETY: But you saw more than this, did you not? CHRISTIAN: The things that I have told you were the best; yet some other matters
I saw, as, namely -- I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep
a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their heels; but do you
think I could awake them? I also saw Formality and Hypocrisy come tumbling over
the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Zion, but they were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them; but they would not believe. But above all, I found
it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions' mouths,
and truly if it had not been for the good man, the porter that stands at the
gate, I do not know but that after all I might have gone back again; but 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: Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came? CHRISTIAN: Yes, but with much shame and detestation -- Truly, if I had been
mindful of that country from whence I came out, I might have had opportunity
to have returned; but now I desire a better country, that is, an heavenly. PRUDENCE: Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you
were conversant withal? CHRISTIAN: Yes, but greatly against my will; especially my inward and carnal
cogitations, with which all my countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted;
but now all those things are my grief; and might I but choose mine own things,
I would choose never to think of those things more; but when I would be doing
of that which is best, that which is worst is with me. PRUDENCE: Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which
at other times are your perplexity? CHRISTIAN: Yes, but that is seldom; but they are to me golden hours in which
such things happen to me. PRUDENCE: Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances, at times,
as if they were vanquished? CHRISTIAN: Yes, when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it; and
when I look upon my broidered coat, that will do it; also when I look into the
roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my thoughts wax warm
about whither I am going, that will do it. PRUDENCE: And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion? CHRISTIAN: Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross;
and there I hope to be rid of all those things that to this day are in me an
annoyance to me; there, they say, there is no death; and there I shall dwell
with such company as I like best. For, to tell you truth, I love him, because
I was by him eased of my burden; and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would
fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company that shall continually
cry, Holy, Holy, Holy. Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family? Are you a married man? CHRISTIAN: I have a wife and four small children. CHARITY: And why did you not bring them along with you? CHRISTIAN: Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how willingly would I have done
it! but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage. CHARITY: But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to have shewn
them the danger of being behind. CHRISTIAN: So I did; and told them also of what God had shewn to me of the
destruction of our city; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and they believed
me not. CHARITY: And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them? CHRISTIAN: Yes, and that with much affection: for you must think that my wife
and poor children were very dear unto me. CHARITY: But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction?
for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you. CHRISTIAN: Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in my
countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the apprehension of
the judgment that did hang over our heads; but all was not sufficient to prevail
with them to come with me. CHARITY: But what could they say for themselves, why they came not? CHRISTIAN: Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and my children were
given to the foolish delights of youth: so what by one thing, and what by another,
they left me to wander in this manner alone. CHARITY: 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? CHRISTIAN: Indeed, I cannot commend my life; for I am conscious to myself of
many failings therein; I know also that a man by his conversation may soon overthrow
what by argument or persuasion he doth labour to fasten upon others for their
good. Yet this I can say, I was very wary of giving them occasion, by any unseemly
action, to make them averse to going on pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing
they would tell me I was too precise, and that I denied myself of things, for
their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think I may say, that if what
they saw in me did hinder them, it was my great tenderness in sinning against
God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour. CHARITY: Indeed Cain hated his brother, because his own works were evil, and
his brother's righteous; and if thy wife and children have been offended with
thee for this, they thereby shew themselves to be implacable to good, and thou
hast delivered thy soul from their blood. Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was
ready. So when they had made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table was
furnished with fat things, and with wine that was well refined: and all their
talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill; as, namely, about what he
had done, and wherefore he did what he did, and why he had builded that house.
And by what they said, I perceived that he had been a great warrior, and had
fought with and slain him that had the Power of death, but not without great
danger to himself, which made me love him the more. For as they said, and as I believe (said Christian), he did it with the loss
of much blood; but that which put glory of grace into all he did, was, that
he did it out of pure love to his country. And besides, there were some of them
of the household that said they had been and spoke with him since he did die
on the cross; and they have attested that they had it from his own lips, that
he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the
east to the west. They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, he had
stripped himself of his glory, that he might do this for the poor; and that
they heard him say and affirm, 'that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion
alone.' They said, moreover, that he had made many pilgrims princes, though
by nature they were beggars born, and their 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 they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened towards the
sun-rising: the name of the chamber was Peace; where he slept till break of
day and then he awoke and sang -- So in the morning they all got up; and, after some more discourse, they told
him that he should not depart till they had shewn him the rarities of that place.
And first they had him into the study, where they shewed him records of the
greatest antiquity; in which, as I remember my dream, they shewed him first
the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the son of the Ancient of
Days, and came by that eternal generation. Here also was more fully recorded
the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken
into his service; and how he had placed them in such habitations that could
neither by length of days nor decays of nature be dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had
done: as, how they had subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises,
stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge
of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and
turned to flight the armies of the aliens. They then read again, in another part of the records of the house, where it
was shewed how willing their Lord was to receive into his favour any, even any,
though they in time past had offered great affronts to his person and proceedings.
Here also were several other histories of many other famous things, of all which
Christian had a view; as of things both ancient and modern; together with prophecies
and predictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both to the
dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims. The next day they took him and had him into the armoury, where they shewed
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 multitude. They also shewed him some of the engines with which some of his servants had
done wonderful things. They shewed him Moses' rod; the hammer and nail with
which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which Gideon
put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they shewed him the ox's goad wherewith
Shamgar slew six hundred men. They shewed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson
did such mighty feats. They shewed him, moreover, the sling and stone with which
David slew Goliath of Gath; and the sword, also, with which their Lord will kill the Man of Sin, in the day that he shall rise
up to the prey. They shewed him, besides, many excellent things, with which
Christian was much delighted. This done, they went to their rest again. Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward; but they
desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we will, if
the day be clear, shew you the Delectable Mountains, which, they said, would
yet further add to his comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than
the place where at present he was; so he consented and stayed. When the morning
was up, they had him to the top of the house, and bid him look south; so he
did: and behold, at a great distance, he saw a most pleasant mountainous country,
beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs
and fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the country.
They said it was Immanuel's Land; and it is as common, said they, as this hill
is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there from thence, said
they, thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, as the shepherds that
live there will make appear. Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he should.
But first, said they, let us go again into the armoury. So they did; and when
they came there, they harnessed him from head to foot with what was of proof,
lest, perhaps, he should meet with assaults in the way. He being, therefore,
thus accoutred, walketh out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked
the porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by. Then the porter answered, Yes. CHRISTIAN: Pray, did you know him? said he. PORTER: I asked him his name, and he told me it was Faithful. CHRISTIAN: Oh, said Christian, I know him; he is my townsman, my near neighbour;
he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you think he may be before? PORTER: He is got by this time below the hill. CHRISTIAN: Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add
to all thy blessings much increase, for the kindness that thou hast shewed to
me. Then he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence would
accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterating
their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Christian,
As it was difficult coming up, so, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going
down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is, for it is a hard matter for a man to go
down into the Valley of Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by
the way; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill.
So he began to go down, but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two. Then I saw in my dream that these good companions, when Christian was gone
to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a
cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way. But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it;
for he had gone but a little way, before he espied a foul fiend coming over
the field to meet him; his name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be
afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or to stand his ground. But
he considered again that he had no armour for his back; and therefore thought
that to turn the back to him might give him the greater advantage with ease
to pierce him with his darts. 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,
it would be the best way to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold;
he was clothed with scales, like a fish, (and they are his pride,) he had wings
like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and
his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come up to Christian, he beheld
him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him. APOLLYON: Whence come you? and whither are you bound? CHRISTIAN: I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all
evil, and am going to the City of Zion. APOLLYON: 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. CHRISTIAN: 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;
therefore, when I was come to years, I did, as other considerate persons do,
look out, if, perhaps, I might mend myself. APOLLYON: 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. CHRISTIAN: But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes; and
how can I, with fairness, go back with thee? APOLLYON: Thou hast done in this, according to the proverb, 'Changed a bad
for a worse;' but it is ordinary for those that have professed themselves his
servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou
so too, and all shall be well. CHRISTIAN: 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? APOLLYON: Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am willing to pass by all, if
now thou wilt yet turn again and go back. CHRISTIAN: What I promised thee was in my nonage; and, besides, I count the
Prince under whose banner now I stand is able to absolve me; yea, and to pardon
also what I did as to my compliance with thee; and besides, O thou destroying
Apollyon! to speak truth, I like his service, his wages, his servants, his government,
his company, and country, better than thine; and, therefore, leave off to persuade
me further; I am his servant, and I will follow him. APOLLYON: Consider, again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like
to meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that, for the most part,
his servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors against me and
my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths! and, besides, thou
countest his service better than mine, whereas he never came yet from the place
where he is to deliver any that served him out of their hands; but as for me,
how many times, as all the world very well knows, have I delivered, either by
power, or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though
taken by them; and so I will deliver thee. CHRISTIAN: His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try their
love, whether they will cleave to him to the end; and as for the ill end thou
sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their account; for, for present
deliverance, they do not much expect it, for they stay for their glory, and
then they shall have it when their Prince comes in his and the glory of the
angels. APOLLYON: Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him; and how
dost thou think to receive wages of him? CHRISTIAN: Wherein, O Apollyon! have I been unfaithful to him? APOLLYON: Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choked
in the Gulf of Despond; thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden,
whereas thou shouldst have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off; thou didst
sinfully sleep and lose thy choice thing; thou wast, also, almost persuaded
to go back at the sight of the lions; and when thou talkest of thy journey,
and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou art inwardly desirous of vain-glory
in all that thou sayest or doest. CHRISTIAN: All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but the
Prince whom I serve and honour is merciful, and ready to forgive; but, besides,
these infirmities possessed me in thy country, for there I sucked them in; and
I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of
my Prince. APOLLYON: Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an enemy
to this Prince; I hate his person, his laws, and people; I am come out on purpose
to withstand thee. CHRISTIAN: Apollyon, beware what you do; for I am in the King's highway, the
way of holiness; therefore take heed to yourself. APOLLYON: Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way,
and said, I am void of fear in this matter: prepare thyself to die; for I swear
by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul.
And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast; but Christian had a shield
in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him; and Apollyon
as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the which, notwithstanding
all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, his
hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back; Apollyon, therefore,
followed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully
as he could. This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian
was almost quite spent; for you must know that Christian, by reason of his wounds,
must needs grow weaker and weaker. Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian,
and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that Christian's
sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now. And with
that he had almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to despair
of life; but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow,
thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out
his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine
enemy; when I fall I 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, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors
through him that loved us. And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon's
wings, and sped him away, that Christian for a season 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 Apollyon made all the time of the fight -- he spake
like a dragon; and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's
heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till
he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then, indeed,
he did smile, and look upward; but it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I
saw. So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to him
that delivered me out of the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me against
Apollyon. And so he did, saying -- Then there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves of the tree of life,
the which Christian took, and applied to the wounds that he had received in
the battle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to eat
bread, and to drink of the bottle that was given him a little before; so, being
refreshed, he addressed himself to his journey, with his sword drawn in his
hand; for he said, I know not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met
with no other affront from Apollyon quite through this valley. Now, at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the Shadow
of Death, and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the Celestial
City lay through the midst of it. Now, this valley is a very solitary place.
The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: -- 'A wilderness, a land of deserts
and of pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land that no man'
(but a Christian) 'passed through, and where no man dwelt.' Now here Christian
was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon, as by the sequel you shall
see. I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got to the borders of the
shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an
evil report of the good land, making haste to go back; to whom Christian spake
as follows: -- CHRISTIAN: 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. CHRISTIAN: 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 further, we had not been here to bring the news to thee. CHRISTIAN: But what have you met with? said Christian. MEN: Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; but that, by
good hap, we men looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to it. CHRISTIAN: But what have you seen? said Christian. Seen! Why, the Valley itself,
which is as dark as pitch; we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons
of the pit; we heard also in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as
of a people under unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and
irons; and over that Valley hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion. Death
also doth always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful,
being utterly without order. CHRISTIAN: 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 all ages, and have both there miserably perished. 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 therefore good Christian was
the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the
one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other; also when he
sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall
into the ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh bitterly; for, besides
the dangers mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, and ofttimes, when
he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not where or upon what he should
set it next. 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 my soul. Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be
reaching towards him. Also he heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro,
so that sometimes he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like
mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises
were heard by him for several miles together; and, coming to a place where he
thought he heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped,
and began to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to
go back; then again he thought he might be half way through the valley; he remembered
also how he had already vanquished many a danger, and that the danger of going
back might be much 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 know his own voice; and thus I perceived it.
Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the
wicked ones got behind him, and stept up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested
many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from
his own mind. This put Christian more to it than anything that he met with before,
even to think that he should now blaspheme him that he loved so much before;
yet, if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the
discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these blasphemies
came. When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable
time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, Though
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou
art with me. Then he was glad, and that for these reasons: -- First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in this
valley as well as himself. Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and
dismal state; and why not, thought he, with me? though, by reason of the impediment
that attends this place, I cannot perceive it. Thirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to have company by and
by. So he went on, and called to him that was before; but he knew not what to
answer; for that he also thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day
broke; then said Christian, He hath turned the shadow of death into the morning. Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to
see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in the dark.
So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that
was on the other; also how narrow the way was which led betwixt them both; also
now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all afar
off, (for after break of day, they came not nigh;) yet they were discovered
to him, according to that which is written, He discovereth deep things out of
darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death. Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from all the dangers of
his solitary way; which dangers, though he feared them more before, yet he saw
them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them conspicuous to
him. And about this time the sun was rising, and this was another mercy to Christian;
for you must note, that though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of
Death was dangerous, yet this second part which he was yet to go, was, if possible,
far more dangerous; for from the place where he now stood, even to the end of
the valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, gins, and nets
here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down there, that,
had it now been dark, as it was when he came the first part of the way, had
he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away; but, as I said just
now, the sun was rising. Then said he, His candle shineth upon my head, and
by his light I walk 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, and ashes, lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place
Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have
learnt since, that Pagan has been dead many a day; and as for the other, though
he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd brushes
that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints,
that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims
as they go by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them. So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight of the Old Man that
sat in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think, especially because
he spake to him, though he could not go after him, saying, You will never mend
till more of you be burned. But he held his peace, and set a good face on it,
and so went by and catched no hurt. Then sang Christian: -- Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was cast
up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them. Up there, therefore, Christian
went, and looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his journey. Then
said Christian aloud, Ho! ho! 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
quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him; so the last was first.
Then did Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had gotten the start of
his brother; but not taking good heed to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and
fell, and could not rise again until Faithful came up to help him. Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse
of all things that had happened to them in their pilgrimage; and thus Christian
began: -- CHRISTIAN: My honoured and well-beloved brother, Faithful, I am glad that I
have overtaken you; and that God has so tempered our spirits, that we can walk
as companions in this so pleasant a path. FAITH: I had thought, dear friend, to have had your company quite from our
town; but you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come thus much
of the way alone. CHRISTIAN: How long did you stay in the City of Destruction before you set
out after me on your pilgrimage? FAITH: Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk presently after
you were gone out that our city would, in short time, with fire from heaven,
be burned down to the ground. CHRISTIAN: What! did your neighbours talk so? FAITH: Yes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth. CHRISTIAN: What! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger? FAITH: Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think
they did firmly believe it. For in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of
them deridingly speak of you and of your desperate journey, (for so they called
this your pilgrimage,) but I did believe, and do still, that the end of our
city will be with fire and brimstone from above; and therefore I have made my
escape. CHRISTIAN: Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable? FAITH: Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at the Slough
of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not be known to have
so done; but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt. CHRISTIAN: And what said the neighbours to him? FAITH: He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and that
among all sorts of people; some do mock and despise him; and scarce will any
set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of
the city. CHRISTIAN: But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise
the way that he forsook? FAITH: Oh, they say, hang him, he is a turncoat! he was not true to his profession.
I think God has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb,
because he hath forsaken the way. CHRISTIAN: 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. CHRISTIAN: Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man; but now
I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city; for it is happened to him
according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and
the sow that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire. FAITH: These are my fears of him too; but who can hinder that which will be? CHRISTIAN: Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and
talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now, what you
have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met with some things,
or else it may be writ for a wonder. FAITH: I escaped the Slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the
gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton, who had
like to have done me a mischief. CHRISTIAN: It was well you escaped her net; Joseph was hard put to it by her,
and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. But
what did she do to you? FAITH: You cannot think, but that you know something, what a flattering tongue
she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner
of content. CHRISTIAN: Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience. FAITH: You know what I mean; all carnal and fleshly content. CHRISTIAN: 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. CHRISTIAN: Why, I trow, you did not consent to her desires? FAITH: No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing that I had
seen, which said, Her steps take hold on hell. So I shut mine eyes, because
I would not be bewitched with her looks. Then she railed on me, and I went my
way. CHRISTIAN: Did you meet with no other assault as you came? FAITH: When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a
very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I
am a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest
like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that
I shall give thee? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his
name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. I asked him
then what was his work, and what the wages he would give. He told me that his
work was many delights; and his wages that I should be his heir at last. I further
asked him what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me
that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world; and that his
servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any children.
He said that he had but three daughters: The Lust of the Flesh, The Lust of
the Eyes, and The Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all if I would.
Then I asked how long time he would have me live with him? And he told me, As
long as he lived himself. CHRISTIAN: Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last? FAITH: Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man,
for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with
him, I saw there written, Put off the old man with his deeds. CHRISTIAN: And how then? FAITH: Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however
he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave.
So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house.
Then he reviled me, and told me that he would send such a one after me, that
should make my way bitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from him; but just
as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give
me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of me after
himself. This made me cry, O wretched man! So I went on my way up the hill. Now when I had got about half-way up, I looked behind, and saw one coming after
me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle
stands. CHRISTIAN: Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; but being
overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom. FAITH: But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, he was
but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when
I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so.
He said, because of my secret inclining to Adam the First; and with that he
struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward; so I
lay at his foot as dead as before. So, when I came to myself again, I cried
him mercy; but he said, I know not how to shew mercy; and with that he knocked
me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by, and
bid him forbear. CHRISTIAN: 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. CHRISTIAN: That man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth
he how to shew mercy to those that transgress his law. FAITH: I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with
me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me
he would burn my house over my head if I stayed there. CHRISTIAN: But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the
hill, on the side of which Moses met you? FAITH: Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it: but for the lions, I think
they were asleep, for it was about noon; and because I had so much of the day
before me, I passed by the porter, and came down the hill. CHRISTIAN: He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by, but I wish you had called
at the house, for they would have shewed you so many rarities, that you would
scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, Did you
meet nobody in the Valley of Humility? FAITH: Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded me
to go back again with him; his reason was, for that the valley was altogether
without honour. He told me, moreover, that there to go was the way to disobey
all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Selfconceit, Worldly-glory, with others,
who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended, if I made such a fool
of myself as to wade through this valley. CHRISTIAN: Well, and how did you answer him? FAITH: I told him, that although all these that he named might claim kindred
of me, and that rightly, for indeed they were my relations according to the
flesh; yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, as I also have rejected
them; and therefore they were to me now no more than if they had never been
of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite misrepresented the
thing; for before honour is humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall. Therefore,
said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted
by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy our affections. CHRISTIAN: Met you with nothing else in that valley? FAITH: Yes, I met with
Shame; but of all the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears
the wrong name. The others would be said nay, after a little argumentation,
and somewhat else; but this bold-faced Shame would never have done. CHRISTIAN: Why, what did he say to you? FAITH: What! why, he objected against religion itself; he said it was a pitiful,
low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion; he said that a tender conscience
was an unmanly thing; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so
as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the
times accustom themselves unto, would make him the ridicule of the times. He
objected also, that but few of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion;
nor any of them neither, before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of
a voluntary fondness, to venture the loss of all, for nobody knows what. He,
moreover, objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were
chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived: also their ignorance
and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it
at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I relate; as, that
it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come
sighing and groaning home: that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness
for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said,
also, that religion made aThe
Pilgrim's Progress from This World to That Which is to Come
Delivered Under the Similitude of a Dream Wherein Is Discovered
the Manner of His Setting Out, His Dangerous Journey, and Safe Arrival at the
Desired Country
2. His labouring to render the cross odious to thee. And,
3. His setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of
death.
Open to sorry me, though I have been
An undeserving rebel? Then shall I,
Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.
Eternal glory thou shalt win.
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 shewed me were, and let me be
Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee.
Old things are past away, all's become new.
Strange! he's another man, upon my word,
They be fine feathers that make a fine bird.
Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in
Till I came hither: What a place is this!
Must here be the beginning of my bliss?
Must here the burden fall from off my back?
Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?
Blest cross! blest sepulchre! blest rather be
The Man that there was put to shame for me!
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.
Of Jesus for the men that pilgrims are?
Thus to provide that I should be forgiven!
And dwell already the next door to heaven!
Christian must fight an Angel; but you see,
The valiant man by handling Sword and Shield,
Doth make him, though a Dragon, quit the field.
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.
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.
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.