The Pilgrim's Progress
by John Bunyan
INTRODUCTORY NOTE, AUTHOR'S APOLOGY
Introductory Note
John Bunyan was born at Elstow, Bedfordshire, England, in November,
1628. His father was a maker and mender of pots and kettles, and the son
followed the same trade. Though he is usually called a tinker, Bunyan
had a settled home and place of business. He had little schooling, and
he describes his early surroundings as poor and mean. When he was not
yet sixteen his mother died; in two months his father married again; and
the son enlisted as a soldier in the Civil War in November, 1644, though
whether on the Parliamentary or Royalist side is not certain. The armies
were disbanded in 1646, and about two years later Bunyan married a wife
whose piety redeemed him from his delight in rural sport and the habit
of profane swearing. He became much interested in religions, but it was
only after a tremendous spiritual conflict, lasting three or four years,
that he found peace. His struggles are related with extra-ordinary
vividness and intensity in his "Grace Abounding to the Chief of
Sinners." In 1655, the year in which he lost his wife, he began to
exhort, and two years later he became a regular Non-conformist preacher,
continuing, however, to practise his trade. His success as a preacher
roused opposition among the regular clergy, and in 1658 he was indicted
at the assizes. His writing began with a controversy against the
Quakers, and shows from the first the command of a homely but vigorous
style.
With the reenactment of the laws against non-conformity at the
Restoration, Bunyan became subject to more severe persecution, and with
a short intermission he was confined to prison from 1660 till 1672.
Again and again he might have been released, but he refused to promise
to desist from preaching, and there was no alternative for the justices
but to keep him in confinement. Sometimes lax jailers permitted him to
preach at church meetings; he frequently ministered to his
fellow-prisoners; and he supported his family, now looked after by a
second wife, by making laces. He had apparently abundant leisure, for he
wrote in prison a large number of books, the first one of importance
being that already mentioned, "Grace Abounding" (1666). "The Pilgrim's
Progress" was also written in jail, but probably during a later
confinement of six months in 1675.
In 1672 Charles II suspended the laws against Non-conformists and
Roman Catholics, and Bunyan was released. He was called to be minister
to a Non - conformist congregation in Bedford, and preached in the barn
which served them as a church. But his ministrations were not confined
to Bedford. He made preaching tours over a wide district, and even to
London, and attracted great crowds of listeners. Meanwhile he continued
to write. The first edition of "The Pilgrim's Progress" in 1678 was
followed by others with additions, and in 1684 by the second part. "The
Life and Death of Mr. Badman" appeared in 1680; "The Holy War made by
Shaddai upon Diabolus" in 1682. If the works left in manuscript at his
death be included, the total of his books amounts to nearly sixty. He
died in 1688, leaving a widow and six children, and a personal estate of
less than 100 pounds. "The Pilgrim's Progress" became at once popular,
and has continued to be by far the most widely read of all his works,
and one of the most universally known of English books. Though in the
form of an allegory, the narrative interest is so powerful, the drawing
of permanent types of human character is so vigorous, and the style is
so simple and direct that it takes rank as a great work of fiction. The
best sides of English Puritanism have here their most adequate and
characteristic expression, while the intensity of Bunyan's religious
fervor and the universality of the spiritual problems with which he
deals, raise the work to a place among the great religious classics of
the world.
The Author's Apology
For His Book
When at the first I took my Pen in hand
Thus for to write; I did not understand
That I at all should make a little Book
In such a mode; Nay, I had undertook
To make another, which when almost done,
Before I was aware I this begun.
And thus it was: I was writing of the Way
And Race of Saints, in this our Gospel-day,
Fell suddenly into an Allegory
About their Journey, and the way to Glory,
In more than twenty things which I set down:
This done, I twenty more had in my Crown,
And they again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.
Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,
I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last
Should prove and infinitum, and eat out
The Book that I already am about.
Well, so I did; but yet I did not think
To shew to all this World my Pen and Ink
In such a mode; I only thought to make
I knew not what: nor did I undertake
Thereby to please my Neighbor; no not I;
I did it mine own self to gratifie.
Neither did I but vacant seasons spend
In this my Scribble; nor did I intend
But to divert myself in doing this
From worser thoughts which make me do amiss.
Thus I set Pen to Paper with delight,
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white.
For having now my Method by the end,
Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penn'd
It down, until it came at last to be
For length and breadth the bigness which you see.
Well, when I had thus put mine ends together,
I shew'd them others, that I might see whether
They would condemn them, or them justifie;
And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die;
Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so:
Some said, It might do good; others said, No.
Now was I in a straight, and did not see
Which was the best thing to be done by me:
At last I thought, Since you are thus divided,
I print it will, and so the case decided.
For, thought I, some I see would have it done,
Though others in that Channel do not run.
To prove then who advised for the best,
Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.
I further thought, if now I did deny
Those that would have it thus, to gratifie,
I did not know but hinder them I might
Of that which would to them be great delight.
For those which were not for its coming forth
I said to them, Offend you I am loth,
Yet since your Brethren pleased with it be,
Forbear to judge till you do further see.
If that thou wilt not read, let it alone;
Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone:
Yea, that I might them better palliate,
I did too with them thus Expostulate:
May I not write in such a stile as this?
In such a method too, and yet not miss
Mine end, thy good? why may it not be done?
Dark Clouds bring Waters, when the bright bring none.
Yea, dark or bright, if they their Silver drops
Cause to descend, the Earth, by yielding Crops,
Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the Fruit they yield together;
Yea, so commixes both, that in her Fruit
None can distinguish this from that: they suit
Her well, when hungry; but, if she be full,
She spues out both, and makes their blessings null.
You see the ways the Fisher-man doth take
To catch the Fish; what Engines doth he make?
Behold how he engageth all his Wits,
Also his Snares, Lines, Angles, Hooks, and Nets.
Yet Fish there be, that neither Hook, nor Line,
Nor Snare, nor Net, nor Engine can make thine;
They must be grop'd for, and be tickled too,
Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do.
How doth the Fowler seek to catch his Game
By divers means, all which one cannot name?
His Gun, his Nets, his Lime-twigs, Light, and Bell;
He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea who can tell
Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these
Will make him master of what Fowls he please.
Yea, he must Pipe and Whistle to catch this;
Yet if he does so, that Bird he will miss.
If that a Pearl may in a Toad's head dwell,
And may be found too in an Oyster-shell;
If things that promise nothing do contain
What better is than Gold; who will disdain,
That have an inkling of it, there to look,
That they may find it? Now my little Book
(Though void of all those Paintings that may make
It with this or the other man to take)
Is not without those things that do excel
What do in brave, but empty notions dwell.
Well, yet I am not fully satisfied,
That this your Book will stand, when soundly try'd.
Why, what's the matter? It is dark. What tho?
But it is feigned: What of that I tro?
Some men, by feigning words as dark as mine,
Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine.
But they want solidness. Speak man thy mind.
They drowned the weak; Metaphors make us blind.
Solidity indeed becomes the Pen
Of him that writeth things Divine to men;
But must I needs want solidness, because
By Metaphors I speak? Were not God's Laws,
His Gospel-Laws, in olden time held forth
By Types, Shadows, and Metaphors? Yet loth
Will any sober man be to find fault
With them, lest he be found for to assault
The highest Wisdom. No, he rather stoops,
And seeks to find out what by Pins and Loops,
By Calves, and Sheep, by Heifers, and by Rams,
By Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs,
God speaketh to him. And happy is he
That finds the light and grace that in them be.
Be not too forward therefore to conclude
That I want solidness, that I am rude:
All things solid in shew not solid be;
All things in parables despise not we;
Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive,
And things that good are, of our souls bereave.
My dark and cloudy words they do but hold
The Truth, as Cabinets inclose the Gold.
The Prophets used much by Metaphors
To set forth Truth; yea, whoso considers
Christ, his Apostles too, shall plainly see,
That Truths to this day in such Mantles be.
Am I afraid to say that Holy Writ,
Which for its Stile and Phrase puts down all Wit,
Is everywhere so full of all these things,
Dark Figures, Allegories? Yet there springs
From that same Book that lustre, and those rays
Of light, that turns our darkest nights to days.
Come, let my Carper to his Life now look,
And find there darker lines than in my Book
He findeth any; Yea, and let him know,
That in his best things there are worse lines too.
May we but stand before impartial men,
To his poor One I dare adventure Ten,
That they will take my meaning in these lines
Far better than his lies in Silver Shrines.
Come, Truth, although in Swaddling-clouts, I find,
Informs the Judgment, rectifies the Mind,
Pleases the Understanding, makes the Will
Submit; the Memory too it doth fill
With what doth our Imagination please;
Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.
Sound words I know Timothy is to use,
And old Wive's Fables he is to refuse;
But yet grave Paul him nowhere doth forbid
The use of Parables; in which lay hid
That Gold, those Pearls, and precious stones that were
Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.
Let me add one word more. O man of God,
Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had
Put forth my matter in another dress,
Or that I had in things been more express?
Three things let me propound, then I submit
To those that are my betters, as is fit.
1. I find not that I am denied the use
Of this my method, so I no abuse
Put on the Words, Things, Readers; or be rude
In handling Figure or Similitude,
In application; but, all that I may,
Seek the advance of Truth this or that way.
Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave,
(Example too, and that from them that have
God better pleased, by their words or ways,
Than any man that breatheth now a-days)
Thus to express my mind, thus to declare
Things unto thee, that excellentest are.
2. I find that men (as high as Trees) will write
Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight
For writing so; Indeed if they abuse
Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use
To that intent; but yet let Truth be free
To make her sallies upon thee and me,
Which way it pleases God. For who knows how,
Better than he that taught us first to Plow,
To guide our Mind and Pens for his Design?
And he makes base things usher in Divine.
3. I find that Holy Writ in many places
Hath semblance with this method, where the cases
Do call for one thing, to set forth another;
Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother
Truth's golden Beams: nay, by this method may
Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.
And now, before I do put up my Pen,
I'll shew the profit of my Book, and then
Commit both thee and it unto that hand
That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.
This Book it chalketh out before thine eyes
The man that seeks the everlasting Prize;
It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes,
What he leaves undone, also what he does;
It also shews you how he runs and runs,
Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.
It shews too, who set out for life amain,
As if the lasting Crown they would obtain;
Here also you may see the reason why
They lose their labour, and like Fools do die.
This Book will make a Traveller of thee,
If by its Counsel thou wilt ruled be;
It will direct thee to the Holy Land,
If thou wilt its directions understand:
Yea, it will make the slothful active be;
The blind also delightful things to see.
Art thou for something rare and profitable?
Wouldest thou see a Truth within a Fable?
Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember
From New-year's-day to the last of December?
Then read my Fancies, they will stick like Burrs,
And may be to the Helpless, Comforters.
This Book is writ in such a Dialect
As may the minds of listless men affect:
It seems a novelty, and yet contains
Nothing but sound and honest Gospel strains.
Would'st thou divert thyself from Melancholy?
Would'st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?
Would'st thou read Riddles, and their Explanation?
Or else be drowned in thy Contemplation?
Dost thou love picking meat? Or would'st thou see
A man i' th' Clouds, and hear him speak to thee?
Would'st thou be in a Dream, and yet not sleep?
Or would'st thou in a moment laugh and weep?
Wouldest thou lose thyself, and catch no harm,
And find thyself again without a charm?
Would'st read thyself, and read thou know'st not what,
And yet know whether thou art blest or not,
By reading the same lines? O then come hither,
And lay my Book, thy Head, and Heart together.
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
by John Bunyan
THE FIRST PART
Section I.
The Pilgrim's Progress, In The Similitude Of A Dream
As I walk'd 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 cloathed 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, and 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 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, Fly 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
out his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying Life! Life! Eternal
Life! So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the middle of the
Plain.
The Neighbors also came out to see him run; and as he ran, some
mocked, others threatened, and some 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, Neighbors, wherefore
are you come? They said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he
said, That can by no means be; you dwell, said he, in the City of
Destruction, the place also where I was born, I see it to be so; and
dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the Grave, into a
place that burns with Fire and Brimstone: be content, good Neighbors,
and go along with me.
Obst. What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts
behind us!
Chr. Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that all
which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of
that that I am seeking to enjoy; and if you will go along with me and
hold it, you shall fare as I myself; for there where I go, is enough and
to spare: Come away, and prove my words.
Obst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world
to find them?
Chr. I seek an Inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that
fadeth not away, and it is laid up in Heaven, and safe there, to be
bestowed at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it
so, if you will, in my Book.
Obst. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your Book; will you go back
with us or no?
Chr. No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the
Plow.
Obst. Come then, Neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, and go home
without him; there is a company of these craz'd-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.
Pli. Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good Christian
says is true, the things he looks after are better than ours; my heart
inclines to go with my Neighbor.
Obst. What! more fools still? Be ruled by me, and go back; who
knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you? Go back, go back,
and be wise.
Chr. Come with me, Neighbor Pliable; there are such things to be
had which I spoke of, and many more Glories besides. If you believe not
me, read here in this Book; and for the truth of what is exprest
therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it.
Pli. Well, Neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a
point: I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot
with him: but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired
place?
Chr. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, to speed me
to a little Gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions
about the way.
Pli. Come then, good Neighbor, let us be going. Then they went both
together.
Obst. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate; I will be no
companion of such mis-led, fantastical fellows.
Now I saw in my Dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian
and Pliable went talking over the Plain; and thus they began their
discourse.
Chr. Come Neighbor Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are
persuaded to go along with me: Had even Obstinate himself but felt what
I have felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would
not thus lightly have given us the back.
Pli. Come, Neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two
here, tell me now further what the things are, and how to be enjoyed,
whither we are going?
Chr. I can better conceive of them with my Mind, than speak of them
with my Tongue: but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of
them in my Book.
Pli. And do you think that the words of your Book are certainly
true?
Chr. Yes, verily; for it was made by him that cannot lye.
Pli. Well said; what things are they?
Chr. There is an endless Kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting
Life to be given us, that may inhabit that Kingdom for ever.
Pli. Well said; and what else?
Chr. There are Crowns of glory to be given us, and Garments that
will make us shine like the Sun in the firmament of Heaven.
Pli. This is excellent; and what else?
Chr. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow, for He that is
owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes.
Pli. And what company shall we have there?
Chr. There we shall be with Seraphims and Cherubins, 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 bare to the Lord of
the place, all well, and cloathed with Immortality as with a garment.
Pli. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart; but are
these things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to be sharers hereof?
Chr. The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded that in
this Book; the substance of which is, If we be truly willing to have it,
he will bestow it upon us freely.
Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things;
come on, let us mend our pace.
Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this Burden that
is upon my back.
Now I saw in my Dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they
drew 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 Dispond. Here therefore they wallowed for a time, being
grievously bedaubed with the dirt; and Christian, because of the Burden
that was on his back, began to sink in the mire.
Pli. Then said Pliable, Ah Neighbor Christian, where are you now?
Chr. Truly, said Christian, I do not know.
Pli. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angerly 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 'twixt
this and our Journey's end? May I get out again with my life, you shall
possess the brave Country alone for me. And with that he gave a
desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the
Slough which was next to his own house: so away he went, and Christian
saw him no more.
Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Dispond
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?
Chr. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man called
Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder Gate, that I might escape the
wrath to come; and as I was going thither, I fell in here.
Help. But why did you not look for the steps?
Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell
in.
Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand: so he gave him his hand, and
he drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his
way.
Then I stepped to him that pluckt 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 Dispond; 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 Majesties
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 hath 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 Dispond still, and so will be when they have done what they can.
True, there are by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and
substantial steps, placed even through the very midst of this Slough;
but at such time as this place doth much spue 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 besides; 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 his Neighbors 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 solitary 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, - Master Worldly Wiseman
therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going,
by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter
into some talk with Christian.
World. How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened
manner?
Chr. A burdened manner indeed, as ever I think poor creature had.
And whereas you ask me, Whither away? I tell you, Sir, I am going to
yonder Wicket - gate before me; for there, as I am informed, I shall be
put into a way to be rid of my heavy Burden.
World. Hast thou a Wife and Children?
Chr. Yes, but I am so laden with this Burden, that I cannot take
that pleasure in them as formerly; methinks I am as if I had none.
World. Wilt thou hearken to me if I give thee counsel?
Chr. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need of good counsel.
World. I would advise thee then, that thou with all speed get
thyself rid of thy Burden; for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind
till then; nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessing which God
hath bestowed upon thee till then.
Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy
Burden; but get it off myself, I cannot; nor is there any man in our
country that can take it off my shoulders; therefore am I going this
way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my Burden.
World. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy Burden?
Chr. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honorable
person; his name as I remember is Evangelist.
World. I beshrew him for his counsel; there is not a more dangerous
and troublesome way in the world than is 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 Dispond is upon thee; but that Slough is the
beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way:
Hear me, I am older than thou; thou art like to meet with, in the way
which thou goest, Wearisomeness, Painfulness, Hunger, Perils, Nakedness,
Sword, Lions, Dragons, Darkness, and in a word, Death, and what not!
These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many
testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by
giving heed to a stranger?
Chr. Why, Sir, this Burden upon my back is more terrible to me than
are all these things which you have mentioned; nay, methinks I care not
what I meet with in the way, so be I can also meet with deliverance from
my Burden.
World. How camest thou by the Burden at first?
Chr. By reading this Book in my hand.
World. I thought so; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak
men, who meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into
thy distractions; which distractions do not only unman men (as thine I
perceive has done thee), but they run them upon desperate ventures, to
obtain they know not what.
Chr. I know what I would obtain; it is ease for my heavy burden.
World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many
dangers attend it? Especially, since (hadst thou but patience to hear
me) I could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without
the dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into; yea, and the
remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add, that instead of those dangers,
thou shalt meet with much safety, friendship, and content.
Chr. Pray Sir, open this secret to me.
World. Why in yonder Village (the village is named Morality) there
dwells a Gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a
man of very good name, that has skill to help men off with such burdens
as thine are from their shoulders: yea, to my knowledge he hath done a
great deal of good this way; ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure
those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him,
as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not
quite a mile from this place, and if he should not be at home himself,
he hath a pretty young man to his Son, whose name is Civility, that can
do it (to speak on) as well as the old Gentleman himself; there, I say,
thou mayest be eased of thy Burden; and if thou art not minded to go
back to thy former habitation, as indeed I would not wish thee, thou
mayest send for thy Wife and Children to thee to this village, where
there are houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at
reasonable rates; Provision is there also cheap and good; and that which
will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure there thou shalt live
by honest Neighbors, in credit and good fashion.
Now was Christian somewhat at a stand, but presently he concluded,
If this be true which this Gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to
take his advice; and with that he thus farther spoke.
Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house?
World. Do you see yonder high Hill?
Chr. Yes, very well.
World. By that Hill you must go, and the first house you come at is
his.
So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr Legality's house for
help; but behold, when he was got now hard by the Hill, it seemed so
high, and also that side of it that was 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 he wot not
what to do. Also his Burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was
in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of the Hill, that made
Christian afraid that he should be burned. 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 Wo.
And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr Worldly Wiseman's
counsel. And with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him; at the
sight also of whom he began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew
nearer and nearer; and coming up to him, he looked upon him with a
severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with
Christian.
Evan. What doest 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 farther, Art not thou the
man that I found crying without the walls of the City of Destruction?
Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man.
Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicketgate?
Chr. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian.
Evan. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside? for
thou art now out of the way.
Chr. I met winh a Gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough of
Dispond, who persuaded me that I might, in the village before me, find a
man that could take off my Burden.
Evan. What was he?
Chr. He looked like a Gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me
at last to yield; so I came hither: but when I beheld this Hill, and how
it hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it should fall on
my head.
Evan. What said that Gentleman to you?
Chr. Why, he asked me whither I was going; and I told him.
Evan. And what said he then?
Chr. He asked me if I had a family; and I told him. But, said I, I
am so loaden with the Burden that is on my back, that I cannot take
pleasure in them as formerly.
Evan. And what said he then?
Chr. He bid me with speed get rid of my Burden; and I told him
'twas ease that I sought. And, said I, I am 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;
which way, said he, will direct you to a Gentleman's house that hath
skill to take off these Burdens: So I believed him, and turned out of
that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my Burden. But
when I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, I stopped for
fear (as I said) of danger: but I now know not what to do.
Evan. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I may 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 draws 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.
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
by John Bunyan
THE FIRST PART
Section II.
Then Christian fell down at his foot as dead, crying, Wo 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 from the Cross. And because he is of
this carnal temper, teerefore he seeketh to prevent my ways, though
right. Now there are three things in this man's counsel that thou must
utterly abhor.
1. His turning thee out of the way.
2. His labouring to render the Cross odious to thee.
3. And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the
administration of Death.
First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; yea, and
thine own consenting thereto, because this is to reject the counsel of
God for the sake of the counsel of a Worldly Wiseman. The Lord says,
Strive to enter in at the strait gate, the gate to which I 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 comes after him, and hates not his
father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters,
yea and his own life also, he cannot be my Disciple. I say therefore,
for a man to 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 was 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 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 this sottish man, 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. The words were thus pronounced, As many as are
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 Gentleman's
arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have that 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 follows.
Chr. Sir, what think you? Is there hopes? 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?
Evan. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great, for by it
thou hast committed two evils: thou hast forsaken the way that is good,
to tread in forbidden paths; yet will the man at the Gate receive thee,
for he has 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 man asked him, would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went
like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could
by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way which
he 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 Garet, 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
Open to sorry me, though I have been
An undeserving Rebel? Then shall I
Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.
At last there came a grave person to the gate named Good-Will, who
asked Who was there? and whence he came? and what he would have?
Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of
Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from
the wrath to come. I would therefore, Sir, since I am informed that by
this Gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in.
Good-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 they 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?
Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock (as I did); and he
said that you, Sir, would tell me what I must do.
Good-will. An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it.
Chr. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards.
Good-will. But how is it that you came alone?
Chr. Because none of my Neighbors saw their danger, as I saw mine.
Good-will. Did any of them know of your coming?
Chr. Yes, my Wife and Children saw me at the first, and called
after me to turn again; also some of my Neighbors stood crying and
calling after me to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came
on my way.
Good-will. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go
back?
Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they saw that they
could not prevail, Obstinate went railing back, but Pliable came with me
a little way.
Good-will. But why did he not come through?
Chr. We indeed came both together, until we came to the Slough of
Dispond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my Neighbor
Pliable discouraged, and would not adventure 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 coelestial
glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running
the hazards of a few difficulties to obtain it?
Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and
if I should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no
betterment 'twixt him and myself. 'Tis 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. O, did he light upon you? What! he would have had you a
sought for ease at the hands of Mr Legality. They are both of them a
very cheat: But did you take his counsel?
Chr. Yes, as far as I durst: I went to find out Mr Legality, until
I thought that the Mountain that stands by his house would have fallen
upon my head; wherefore there I was forced to stop.
Good-will. That Mountain has been the death of many, and will be
the death of many more; 'tis well you escaped being by it dashed in
pieces.
Chr. Why truly I do not know what had become of me there, had not
Evangelist happily met me again, as I was musing in the midst of my
dumps: but 'twas God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I had
never come hither. But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit
indeed for death by that Mountain than thus to stand talking with my
Lord; but O, 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 come hither, they in no wise are cast
out; and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me, and I
will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee; dost thou
see this narrow way? That is the way thou must go; it was cast up by the
Patriarchs, Prophets, Christ, and his Apostles; and it is as straight as
a rule can make it: This is the way thou must go.
Chr. But said Christian, Is there no turnings nor windings, by
which a Stranger may lose the way?
Good-will. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they
are crooked and wide: But thus thou mayest distinguish the right from
the wrong, the right 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 they Burden, be content to bear it, until thou
comest to the place of Deliverance; for there it will fall from thy back
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 at the house of the Interpreter, where
he knocked over and over; at last one came to the door, and asked Who
was there?
Chr. Sir, here is a Traveller, who was bid by an acquaintance of
the good man of this house to call here for my profit; I would therefore
speak with the Master of the house. So he called for the Master of the
house, who after a little time came to Christian, and asked him what he
would have?
Chr. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the City of
Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the Man
that stands at the Gate at the head of this way, that if I called here,
you would shew me excellent things, such as would be a help to me in my
Journey.
Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Come in, I will shew thee that
which will be profitable to thee. So he commanded his man to light the
Candle, and bid Christian follow him, so he had him into a private room,
and bid his man open a door; the which when he had done, Christian saw
the Picture of a very grave Person hang 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.
Chr. Then said Christian, What means this?
Inter. The Man whose Picture this is, is one of a thousand; he can
beget children, travel 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 authorized to be thy
guide in all difficult places thou mayest 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 choaked. Then said the Interpreter
to a Damsel that stood by, Bring hither the Water, and sprinkle the
Room; the which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with
pleasure.
Chr. Then said Christian, What means this?
Inter. The Interpreter answered, This parlour is the heart of a man
that was never sanctified by the sweet Grace of the Gospel: the dust is
his Original Sin and inward Corruptions, that have defiled the whole
man. He that began to sweep at first, is the Law; but she that brought
water, and did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. Now, whereas thou sawest that
so soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about that the
Room by him could not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost choaked
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 discontent; 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.
Chr. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter
more fully to me.
Inter. So he said, These two Lads are figures: Passion, of the men
of this world; and Patience, of the men of that which is to come; for as
here thou seest, Passion will have all now this year, that is to say, in
this world; so are the men of this world: they must have all their good
things now, they cannot stay till next year, that is, until the next
world, for their portion of good. That proverb, A Bird in the Hand is
worth two in the Bush, is of more authority with them than are all the
Divine testimonies of the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest
that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left him
nothing but Rags; so will it be with all such men at the end of this
world.
Chr. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best
wisdom, and that upon many accounts. 1. Because he stays for the best
things. 2. And also because he will have the Glory of his, when the
other has nothing but Rags.
Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next
world will never wear out; but these are suddenly gone, Therefore
Passion had not so much 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 be that hath his portion
last, must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, In thy
lifetime thou receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil
things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.
Chr. Then I perceive 'tis not best to covet things that are now,
but to wait for things to come.
Inter. You say truth: For the things which are seen are Temporal;
but the things that are not seen are Eternal. But though this be so, yet
since things present and our fleshly appetite are such near neighbors
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 fell 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 cloathed
all in gold.
Then said Christian, May we go in thither?
Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up toward the door of
the Palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as
desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little
distance from the door, at a table-side, with a Book and his Inkhorn
before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein; He saw
also, that in the door-way stood many men in armour to keep it, being
resolved to do the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they
could. Now was Christian somewhat in a maze. At last, when every man
started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very
stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying,
Set down my name, Sir: the which when he had done, he saw the man draw
his Sword, and put an Helmet upon his head, 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,
Come in, Come in; Eternal Glory thou shalt win.
So he went in, and was cloathed 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.
Chr. What wast thou once?
Man. The Man said, I was once a fair and flourishing Professor,
both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others; I once was, as I
thought, fair for the Coelestial City, and had then even joy at the
thoughts that I should get thither.
Chr. Well, but what art thou now?
Man. I am now a man of Despair, and am shut up in it, as in this
Iron Cage. I cannot get out; O now I cannot.
Chr. But how camest thou 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 are there no hopes for
such a man as this? Ask him, said the Interpreter.
Chr. Then said the Christian, Is there no hope, but you must be
kept in the Iron Cage of Despair?
Man. No, none at all.
Chr. Why? the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful.
Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh, 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 threatnings, dreadful threatnings, fearful threatnings of
certain Judgment and fiery Indignation, which shall devour me as an
Adversary.
Chr. For what did you bring yourself into this condition?
Man. For the Lusts, Pleasures, and Profits of this World; in the
enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight; but now every
one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm.
Chr. But canst thou not now repent and turn?
Man. God hath denied me repentance: his Word gives me no
encouragement to believe; yea, himself hath shut me up in this Iron
Cage; nor can all the men in the world let me out. O Eternity! Eternity!
how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in Eternity!
Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's
misery be remembred by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.
Chr. Well, said Christian, this is fearful; God help me to watch
and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man's
misery. Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now?
Inter. Tarry till I shall shew thee one thing more, and then thou
shalt go 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 thundred
and lightned 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 catch'd 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.
Chr. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight?
Man. Why, I thought that the day of Judgment was come, and that I
was not ready for it: but this frighted me most, that the Angels
gathered up several, and left me behind; also the pit of Hell opened her
mouth just where I stood: my Conscience too afflicted me; and as I
thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, shewing indignation in
his countenance.
Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all
these things?
Chr. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear.
Inter. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a
Goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go. Then
Christian began to gird up his loins, and address himself to his
Journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee,
good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the City. So
Christian went on his way saying,
Here I have seen things rare and profitable;
Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable
In what I have begun to take in hand;
Then let me think on them, and understand
Wherefore they shew'd me was, and let me be
Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee.
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
by John Bunyan
THE FIRST PART
Section III.
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 is 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 to thee; so the first said to him, Thy sins be forgiven: the
second stript him of his Rags, and clothed him with Change of Raiment;
the third also set a mark in his forehead, and gave him a Roll with a
Seal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he should
give it in at the Coelestial Gate. So they went their way.
Who's this? the Pilgrim. How! 'tis very true, Old things are past away,
all's become new. Strange! he's another man, upon my word, They be fine
Feathers that make a fine Bird.
Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing,
Thus far did I come laden with my sin;
Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in
Till I came hither: What a place is this!
Must here be the beginning of my bliss?
Must here the Burden fall from off my back?
Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?
Blest Cross! blest Sepulchre! blest rather be
The Man that there was put to shame for me.
I saw then in my Dream that he went on thus, even until he came at
a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep,
with fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, another
Sloth, and the third Presumption.
Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if
peradventure he might awake them, and cried, You are like them that
sleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea is under you, a gulf that
hath no bottom. 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 his
sort: Simple said, I see no danger; Sloth said, Yet a little more sleep;
and Presumption said, Every Fat^1 must stand upon his own bottom. And so
they lay down to sleep again and Christian went on his way.
[Footnote 1: I.e., Vat or tub.]
Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so
little esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them,
both by awakening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help
them off with their Irons. And as he was troubled thereabout he espied
two men come tumbling over the Wall, on the left hand of the narrow way;
and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and
the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they drew up unto him,
who thus entered with them into discourse.
Chr. Gentlemen, Whence came you, and whither do you go?
Form. and Hyp. We were born in the land of Vainglory, and are going
for praise to Mount Sion.
Chr. Why came you not in at the Gate which standeth at the
beginning of the Way? Know you not that it is written, That he that
cometh not in by the Door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a
Thief and a Robber?
Form. and Hyp. They said, That to go to the Gate for entrance was
by all their countrymen counted too far about; and that therefore their
usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as
they had done.
Chr. But will it not be counted a Trespass against the Lord of the
City whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will?
Form. and Hyp. They told him, That as for that, he needed not to
trouble his head thereabout; for what they did they had custom for; and
could produce, if need were, Testimony that would witness it for more
than a thousand years.
Chr. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a Trial at Law?
Form. and Hyp. They told him, That custom, it being of so long a
standing as above a thousand years, would doubtless now be admitted as a
thing legal by an impartial Judge; and besides, said they, if we get
into the way, what's matter which way we get in? if we are in, we are
in; thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the Gate;
and we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall; wherein
now is thy condition better than ours?
Chr. I walk by the Rule of my Master; you walk by the rude working
of your fancies. You are counted thieves 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 Neighbors, to hide the shame of
thy nakedness.
Chr. By Laws and Ordinances you will not be saved, since you came
not in by the door. And as for this Coat that is on my back, it was
given me by the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you say, to
cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token 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 stript 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
in the way; I was also bid to give it in at the Coelestial 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 was 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 Hill, tho' high, I covet to ascend,
The difficulty will not me offend;
For I perceive the way to life lies here:
Come, pluck up, Heart, let's neither faint nor fear;
Better, tho' difficult, the right way to go,
Than wrong, though easy, where the end is wo.
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 was two other ways to
go; and supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up
which Christian went, on the other side of the Hill; therefore they were
resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was
Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way
which is called Danger, which led him into a great Wood; and the other
took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide
field, full of dark Mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no
more.
Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end?
Shall they at all have Safety for their friend?
No, no; in headstrong manner they set out,
And headlong will they fall at last no doubt.
I looked then after Christian to see him go up the Hill, where I
perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering
upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now
about the mid - way to the top of the Hill was a pleasant Arbor, made by
the Lord of the Hill for the refreshing of weary travellers; thither
therefore Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him. Then he
pulled his Roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he
also now began afresh to take a review of the Coat or Garment that was
given him as he stood by the Cross. Thus pleasing himself 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 suddenly started up, and sped 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 against him amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and 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.
Chr. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but whither shall I
fly to be safe? If I go back to mine own country, that is prepared for
Fire and Brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there. If I can get to
the Coelestial 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 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 Coelestial City. Here therefore he began to be much perplexed,
and knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself that he had slept
in the Arbor that is on the side of the Hill; and falling down upon his
knees he asked God's forgiveness for that his foolish fact^2 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
Arbor 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 daytime! that I
should sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so indulge the
flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the
Hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of Pilgrims? How
many steps have I 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!
[Footnote 2: Deed.]
Now by this time he was come to the Arbor again, where for a while
he sat down and wept; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking
sorrowfully down under 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 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 High-way side.
So I saw in my Dream that he made haste and went forward, that if
possible he might get Lodging there. Now before he had gone far, he
entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off of the
Porter's Lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he
espied two Lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that
Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The Lions were chained, but
he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to
go back after them, for he thought nothing but death was before him: But
the Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that
Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, Is
thy strength so small? Fear not the Lions, for they are chained, and are
placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those
that have none. Keep in the midst of the Path, and no hurt shall come
unto thee.
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 clapt his hands, and went on till he
came and stood before the Gate where the Porter was. Then said Christian
to the Porter, Sir, what house is this? and may I lodge here to-night?
The Porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the Hill, and
he built it for the relief and security of Pilgrims. The Porter also
asked whence he was, and whither he was going?
Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am going to Mount
Zion; but because the Sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here
to-night.
Por. What is your name?
Chr. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was
Graceless; I came of the race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to
dwell in the Tents of Shem.
Por. But how doth it happen that you come so late? The Sun is set.
Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am! I
slept in the Arbor that stands on the Hillside; nay, I had
notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost
my evidence, and came without it to the brow of the Hill; and then
feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced with sorrow of heart to
go back to the place where I had slept my sleep, where I found it, and
now I am come.
Por. Well, I will call out one of the Virgins of this place, who
will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the Family,
according to the rules of the house. So 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, led him in to the Family; and many of them, meeting him at the
threshold of the house, said, Come in thou blessed of the Lord: this
house was built by the Lord of the Hill, on purpose to entertain such
Pilgrims in. Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house.
So when he was come in and set down, they gave him something to drink,
and consented together, that until supper was ready, some of them should
have some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement
of time; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity to
discourse with him; and thus they began:
Piety. Come good Christian, since we have been so loving to you, to
receive you into our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better
ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you
in your Pilgrimage.
Chr. With a very good will, and I am glad that you are so well
disposed.
Piety. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a Pilgrim's
life?
Chr. I was driven out of my Native Country, by a dreadful sound
that was in mine ears: to wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend
me, if I abode in that place where I was.
Piety. But how did it happen that you came out of your Country this
way?
Chr. It was a God would have it; for when I was under the fears of
destruction, I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a
man, even to me, as I was trembling and weeping, whose name is
Evangelist, and he directed me to the Wicket-gate, which else I should
never have found, and so set me into the way that hath led me directly
to this house.
Piety. But did you not come by the house of the Interpreter?
Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which
will stick by me as long as I live; specially three things: to wit, How
Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his work of Grace in the heart;
how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy; and
also the Dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of Judgment was
come.
Piety. Why, Did you hear him tell his dream?
Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made my heart ake
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?
Chr. No: he took me and had me where he shewed me a stately Palace,
and how the people were clad in Gold that were in it; and how there came
a venturous man and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the
door to keep him out, and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal
Glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart; I would have stayed
at that good man's house a twelve-month, but that I knew I had further
to go.
Piety. And what saw you else in the way?
Chr. Saw! Why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I
thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the Tree; and the very sight of
him made my Burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a heavy
Burden), but then it fell down from off me. 'Twas a strange thing to me,
for I never saw such a thing before; yea, and while I stood looking up
(for then I could not forbear looking) three Shining Ones came to me.
One of them testified that my sins were forgiven me; another stript me
of my Rags, and gave me this broidered Coat which you see; and the third
set the Mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed Roll:
(and with that he plucked it out of his bosom.)
Piety. But you saw more than this, did you not?
Chr. The things that I have told you were the best; yet some other
matters I saw, as namely I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and
Presumption, lie asleep a little out of the way as I came, with Irons
upon their heels; but do you think I could awake them? I also saw
Formalist and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they
pretended, to Zion; but they were quickly lost; even as I myself did
tell them, but they would not believe. But, above all, I found it hard
work to get up this Hill, and as hard to come by the Lions' mouths; and
truly if it had not been for the good man, the Porter that stands at the
Gate, I do not know but that after all I might have gone back again; but
now I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me.
Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and desired
his answer to them.
Prud. Do you not think sometimes of the Country from whence you
came?
Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation: Truly, if I had been
mindful of that Country from whence I came out, I might have had
opportunity to have returned; but now I desire a better Country, that
is, a Heavenly.
Prud. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that
then you were conversant withal?
Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will; especially my inward and
carnal cogitations, with which all my countrymen, as well as myself,
were delighted; but now all those things are my grief; and might I but
chuse mine own things, I would chuse 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.
Prud. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were
vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity?
Chr. Yes, but that is seldom; but they are to me golden hours in
which such things happen to me.
Prud. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at
times, as if they were vanquished?
Chr. Yes, when I thing what I saw at the Cross, that will do it;
and when I look upon my broidered Coat, that will do it; also when I
look into the Roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when
my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.
Prud. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount
Zion?
Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the
Cross; and there I hope to be rid of all those things that to this day
are in me an annoyance to me; there, they say, there is no death; and
there I shall dwell with such Company as I like best. 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?
Chr. I have a Wife and four small Children.
Char. And why did you not bring them along with you?
Chr. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh how willingly would I have
done it, but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on
Pilgrimage.
Char. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to
have shewn them the danger of being behind.
Chr. so I did, and told them also what God had shewed to me of the
destruction of our City; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and
they believed me not.
Char. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to
them?
Chr. Yes, and that with much affection; for you must think that my
Wife and poor Children were very dear unto me.
Char. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of
destruction? for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you.
Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in
my countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the
apprehension of the Judgment that did hang over our heads; but all was
not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me.
Char. But what could they say for themselves, why they came not?
Chr. Why, my Wife was afraid of losing this World, and my Children
were given to the foolish Delights of youth: so what by one thing, and
what by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone.
Char. But did you not with your vain life, damp all that you by
words used by way of persuasion to bring them away with you?
Chr. Indeed I cannot commend my life; for I am conscious to myself
of many failings therein: I know also, that a man by his conversation
may soon overthrow, what by argument or persuasion he doth labour to
fasten upon others for their good. 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 in my great tenderness in sinning against
God, or of doing any wrong to my Neighbor.
Char. 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 Warriour, 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 seen and
spoke with him since he did die on the Cross; and they have attested
that they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor
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 stript 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,
Where am I now? Is this the love and care
Of Jesus for the men that Pilgrims are
Thus to provide! That I should be forgiven
And dwell already the next door to Heaven!
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
by John Bunyan
THE FIRST PART
Section IV.
So in the morning they all got up, and after some more discourse,
they told him that he should not depart till they had shewed 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 Antient of Days, and came by an Eternal
Generation. Here also was more fully recorded the Acts that he had done,
and the names of man 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.
Then they 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 Antient 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 Armory, 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 Goliah 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
forwards, 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, they said,
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
Coelestial 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 Armory: So
they did; and when they came there, they harnessed him from head to foot
with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the
way. He being therefore thus accoutred, walketh out with his friends to
the Gate, and there he asked the Porter if he saw any Pilgrims pass by:
Then the Porter answered, Yes.
Chr. Pray, did you know him? said he.
Por. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful.
Chr. O, said Christian, I know him; he is my Townsman, my near
Neighbor, he comes from the place where I was born: How far do you think
he may be before?
Por. He is got by this time below the Hill.
Chr. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and
add to all thy blessings much increase, for the kindness that thou hast
shewed to me.
Whilst Christian is among his godly friends,
Their golden mouths make him sufficient mends
For all his griefs, and when they let him go,
He's clad with northern Steel from top to toe.
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 down to the bottom of the Hill, gave him a loaf of Bread, a
bottle of Wine, and a cluster of Raisins; and then he went on his way.
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 Armor for
his back, and therefore thought that to turn 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, 'twould be the best way to
stand.
So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the Monster was hideous to
behold; he was cloathed with scales like a Fish (and they are his
pride); he had wings like a Dragon, feet like a Bear, and out of his
belly came Fire and Smoke; and his mouth was as the mouth of a Lion.
When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful
countenance, and thus began to question with him.
Apol. Whence come you? and whither are you bound?
Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of
all evil, and am going to the City of Zion.
Apol. By this I perceive thou art one of my Subjects, for all that
Country is mine, and I am the Prince and God of it. How is it then thou
hast run away from thy King? Were it not that I hope thou mayest do me
more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the ground.
Chr. I was born indeed in your dominions, but your service was
hard, and your wages such as a man could not live on, for the wages of
sin is death; therefore when I was come to years, I did as other
considerate persons do, look out, if perhaps I might mend myself.
Apol. There is no Prince that will thus lightly lose his Subjects,
neither will I as yet lose thee: but since thou complainest of thy
service and wages, be content to go back; what our Country will afford,
I do here promise to give thee.
Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the King of Princes,
and how can I with fairness go back with thee.
Apol. Thou hast done in this, according to the Proverb, changed a
bad for a worse; but it is ordinary for those that have professed
themselves his Servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return
again to me: Do thou so too, and all shall be well.
Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to him; how
then can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a Traitor?
Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am willing to pass by
all, if now thou wilt yet turn again and go back.
Chr. What I promised thee was in my nonage; and besides, I count
that the Prince under whose Banner now I stand is able to absolve me;
yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee; and
besides, O thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like his Service,
his Wages, his Servants, his Government, his Company and Country, better
than thine; and therefore leave off to persuade me further; I am his
Servant and I will follow him.
Apol. Consider again when thou art in cool blood, what thou art
like to meet with in the way thou that 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 contest his service better than mine,
whereas he never came yet from the place where he is to deliver any that
served him out of our hands; but as for me, how many times, as all the
World very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those
that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them;
and so I will deliver thee.
Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try
their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end; and as for the
ill end sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their account; 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.
Apol. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him, and
how dost thou think to receive wages of him?
Chr. Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him?
Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost
choked in the Gulf of Dispond; 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.
Chr. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but
the Prince whom I serve and honor is merciful, and ready to forgive; but
besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy Country, for there I
sucked them in, and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and
have obtained Pardon of my Prince.
Apol. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an
enemy to this Prince; I hate his Person, his Laws, and People; I am come
out on purpose to withstand thee.
Chr. Apollyon, beware what you do, for I am in the King's High-way,
the way of Holiness, therefore take heed to yourself.
Apol. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the
way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter, prepare thyself to die;
for I swear by my infernal Den, that thou shalt go no further; here will
I spill thy soul.
And with that he threw a flaming Dart at his breast, but Christian
had a Shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the
danger of that.
Then did Christian draw, for he saw 'twas 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
'twas the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.
A more unequal match can hardly be:
Christian must fight an Angel; but you see
The Valiant Man by handling Sword and Shield,
Doth make him, tho' a Dragon, quit the field.
So when the Battle was over, Christian said, I will here give
thanks to him that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the Lion, to
him that did help me against Apollyon. And so he did, saying,
Great Beelzebub, the Captain of this Fiend,
Design'd my ruin; therefore to this end
He sent him harness'd out: and he with rage
That hellish was, did fiercely me engage:
But blessed Michael helped me, and I
By dint of Sword did quickly make him fly.
Therefore to him let me give lasting praise,
And thank and bless his holy name always.
Then there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves of the Tree
of Life, the which Christian took, and applied to the wounds that he had
received in the Battle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in
that place to eat Bread, and to drink of the Bottle that was given him a
little before; 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 Coelestial 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) passeth through,
and where no man dwelt.
Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with
Apollyon, as by the sequel you shall see.
I saw then in my Dream, that when Christian 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,
Chr. Whither are you going?
Men. They said, Back, back; and we would have you to do so too, if
either life or peace is prized by you.
Chr. Why, what's the matter? said Christian.
Men. Matter! said they'; we were going that way as you are going,
and went as far as we durst; and indeed we were almost past coming back;
for had we gone a little further, we had not been here to bring the news
to thee.
Chr. But what have you met with? said Christian.
Men. Why we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; but
that by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came
to it.
Chr. But what have you seen? said Christian.
Men. Seen! Why, the Valley itself, which is as dark as pitch; we
also saw there the Hobgoblins, Satyrs, and Dragons 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.
Chr. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have
said, but that this is my way to the desired Haven.
Men. Be it thy way; we will not chose 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 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 pluck him out.
The path-way 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
path-way was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lift up his foot to
set forward, he knew not where, or upon what he should set it next.
Poor man! where art thou now? Thy Day is Night.
Good man be not cast down, thou yet art right:
Thy way to Heaven lies by the gates of Hell;
Chear up, hold out, with thee it shall go well.
About the midst of this Valley, I perceived the mouth of Hell to
be, and it stood also hard by the wayside. Now thought Christian, what
shall I do? And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such
abundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for
Christian's Sword, as did Apollyon before) that he was forced to put up
his Sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer. 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 prices, or trodden down like
mire in the Streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these
dreadfulnoises 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 stopt, 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 neither to stop his ears, nor to know from whence
those blasphemies came.
When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some
considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, going before
him saying, Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I
will fear none ill, for thou art with me.
Then was he glad, and that for these reasons:
First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God
were in this Valley as well as himself.
Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that
dark and dismal state; and 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 discovered 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 on my head, and by his light I go through darkness.
In this light therefore he came to the end of the Valley. Now I saw
in my Dream, that at the end of this Valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and
mangled bodies of men, even of Pilgrims that had gone this way formerly;
and while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little
before me a Cave, where two Giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old time;
by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, &c. 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 to 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, specially because he spake to him, though he could not go after
him, saying, You will never mend till more of you be burned: But he held
his peace, and set a good face on't, and so went by and catcht no hurt.
Then sang Christian,
O world of wonders! (I can say no less)
That I should be preserv'd in that distress
That I have met with here! O blessed be
That hand that from it hath delivered me!
Dangers in darkness, Devils, Hell, and Sin,
Did compass me, while I this Vale was in:
Yea, Snares, and Pits, and Traps, and Nets did lie
My path about, that worthless silly I
Might have been catch'd, intangled, and cast down;
But since I live, let Jesus wear the Crown.
Now as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which
was cast up on purpose that Pilgrims might see before them. Up there
therefore Christian went, and looking forward, he saw Faithful before
him, upon his Journey. Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho, 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:
Chr. My honoured and well beloved Brother Faithful, I am glad that
I have overtaken you; and that God has so tempered our spirits, that we
can walk as Companions in this so pleasant a path.
Faith. I had thought, dear Friend, to have had your company quite
from our Town; but you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced
to come thus much of the way alone.
Chr. How long did you stay in the City of Destruction, before you
set out after me on your Pilgrimage?
Faith. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk
presently after you were gone out, that our City would in short time
with Fire from Heaven be burned down to the ground.
Chr. What, did your Neighbors talk so?
Faith. Yes, 'twas for a while in everybody's mouth.
Chr. What, and did no more of them but you come out to escape the
danger?
Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk 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 mine escape.
Chr. Did you hear no talk of Neighbor Pliable?
Faith. Yes Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at
the Slough of Dispond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not
be known to have so done; but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with
that kind of dirt.
Chr. And what said the Neighbors to him?
Faith. He hath since his going back been had greatly in derision,
and that among all sorts of people; some do mock and despise him; and
scarce will any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he
had never gone out of the City.
Chr. But why should they be so set against him, since they also
despise the way that he forsook?
Faith. Oh, they say, Hang him, he is a Turncoat, he was not true to
his profession: I think God has stirred up even his Enemies to hiss at
him, and make him a Proverb, because he hath forsaken the way.
Chr. Had you no talk with him before you came out?
Faith. I met him once in the Streets, but he leered away on the
other side, as one ashamed of what he had done; so I spake not to him.
Chr. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man; but
now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the City, for it is
happened to him according to the true Proverb, The Dog is turned to his
Vomit again, and the Sow that was washed to her wallowing in the Mire.
Faith. They are my fears of him too; but who can hinder that which
will be?
Chr. Well Neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and
talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now,
what you have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met
with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.
Faith. I escaped the Slough that I perceive you fell into, and got
up to the Gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was
Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief.
Chr. 'Twas well you escaped her Net; Joseph was hard put to it by
her, and he escaped her as you did; 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.
Chr. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience.
Faith. You know what I mean, all carnal and fleshly content.
Chr. Thank God you have escaped her: The abhorred of the Lord shall
fall into her Ditch.
Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no.
Chr. Why, I tro you did not consent to her desires.
Faith. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing
that I had seen, which saith, Her steps take hold of Hell. So I shut
mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks: then she
railed on me, and I went my way.
Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?
Faith. When I came to the foot of the Hill called Difficulty, I met
with a very aged Man, who asked me, What I was, and whither bound? I
told him, That I was a Pilgrim, going to the Coelestial City. Then said
the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to
dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee? Then I asked him his
name, and where he dwelt? He said his name was Adam the First, and I
dwell in the Town of Deceit. I asked him then, What was his work? and
what the wages that he would give? He told me, That his work was many
delights; and his wages, that I should be his Heir at last. I further
asked him, What House he kept, and what other Servants he had? So he
told me, That his House was maintained with all the dainties in the
world; and that his Servants were those of his own begetting. Then I
asked how many Children he had? 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 him how long time
he would have me live with him? And he told me, As long as he lived
himself.
Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last?
Faith. Why, at first, I felt myself somewhat inclinable to go with
the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead,
as I talked with him, I saw there written, Put off the old man with his
deeds.
Chr. And how then?
Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and
however he flattered, when he got me home to his House, he would sell me
for a slave. So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the
door of his House. Then he reviled me, and told me that he would send
such a one after me, that should make my way bitter to my Soul. So I
turned to go away from him; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I
felt him take hold of my flesh and give me such a deadly twitch back,
that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself. This made me cry,
O wretched Man! So I went on my way up the Hill.
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
by John Bunyan
THE FIRST PAR