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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:44:30 GMT -6
Pilgrim's Progress
by John Bunyan
[1678]Pilgrim's Progress is an allegory of a Christian's journey (here represented by a character called 'Christian') from the "City of Destruction" to the "Celestial City". Along the way he visits such locations as the Slough of Despond, Vanity Fair, the Doubting Castle, and the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Bunyan, the author, had very little formal education and a humble background. Nonetheless Pilgrim's Progress is considered one of the masterpieces of English literature, and is required reading for Christians who are on the spritual path in a world of temptations. 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 thouedivert 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.
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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:46:50 GMT -6
Part One
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.
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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:48:17 GMT -6
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.
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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:50:06 GMT -6
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.
[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!
[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!
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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:51:09 GMT -6
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.
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Post by BrentKoivopolo888 on Aug 16, 2021 20:52:27 GMT -6
Section V.
Now when I had got about halfway up, I looked behind me, and saw one
coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place
where the Settle stands.
Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; but being
overcome with sleep, I there lost this Roll out of my bosom.
Faith. But good Brother hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, he
was but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But
when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me
so? He said, Because of my secret inclining to Adam the First: and with that
he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward, so
I lay at his foot as dead as before. So when I came to myself again I cried
him mercy; but he said, I know not how to shew mercy; and with that knocked me
down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid
him forbear?
Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear?
Faith. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, I perceived the
holes in his hands and in his side; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So
I went up the Hill.
Chr. That man that overtook you was Moses: He spareth none, neither
knoweth he how to shew mercy to those that transgress his Law.
Faith. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met
with me. 'Twas he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told
me, He would burn my house over my head if I staid there.
Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of that
Hill, on the side of which Moses met you?
Faith. Yes, and the Lions too, before I came at it: but for the Lions, I
think they were asleep, for it was about Noon; and because I had so much of
the day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the Hill.
Chr. He told me indeed that he saw you go by, but I wish you had called
at the house, for they would have shewed you so many Rarities, that you would
scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, Did you
meet nobody in the Valley of Humility?
Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded
me to go back again with him; his reason was, for that the Valley was
altogether without honour. He told me moreover, that there to go was the way
to disobey all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly -
glory, with others, who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended, if I
made such a Fool of myself as to wade through this Valley.
Chr. Well, and how did you answer him?
Faith. I told him, That although all these that he had named might claim
kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my Relations according
to the flesh) yet since I became a Pilgrim they have disowned me, as I also
have rejected them; and therefore they were to me now no more than if they had
never been of my lineage. I told him moreover, that as to this Valley, he had
quite misrepresented the thing; for before Honour is Humility, and a haughty
spirit before a fall. Therefore said I, I had rather go through this Valley to
the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than chose the way which he
esteemed most worthy our affections.
Chr. Met you with nothing else in that Valley?
Faith. Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the men that I met with in my
Pilgrimage, he I think bears the wrong name. The other would be said nay,
after a little argumentation, (and somewhat else) but this boldfaced Shame
would never have done.
Chr. Why, what did he say to you?
Faith. What! why he objected against Religion itself; he said it was a
pitiful low sneaking business for a man to mind Religion; he said that a
tender conscience was an unmanly thing; and that for a man to watch over his
words and ways, so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the
brave spirits of the times accustom themselves unto, would make him the
ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few of the Mighty, Rich, or
Wise, were ever of my opinion; nor any of them neither, before they were
persuaded to be Fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss
of all, for nobody else knows what. He moreover, objected the base and low
estate and condition of those that were chiefly the Pilgrims of the times in
which they lived; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all
Natural Science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great
many more things than here I relate; as, that it was a shame to sit whining
and mourning under a Sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home;
that it was a shame to ask my Neighbour forgiveness for petty faults, or to
make restitution where I had taken from any. He said also that Religion made a
man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices (which he called by
finer names) and made him own and respect the base, because of the same
Religious Fraternity. And is not this, said he, a shame?
Chr. And what did you say to him?
Faith. Say! I could not tell what to say at first. Yea, he put me so to
it, that my blood came up in may face; even this Shame fetched it up, and had
almost beat me quite off. But at last I began to consider, That that which is
highly esteemed among Men, is had in abomination with God. And I thought
again, this Shame tells me what men are; but it tells me nothing what God or
the Word of God is. And I thought moreover, that at the day of doom, we shall
not be doomed to death or life according to the hectoring spirits of the
world, but according to the Wisdom and Law of the Highest. Therefore thought
I, what God says is best, is best, though all the men in the world are against
it. Seeing then that God prefers his Religion, seeing God prefers a tender
Conscience, seeing they that make themselves Fools for the Kingdom of Heaven
are wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than the
greatest man in the world that hates him; Shame depart, thou art an enemy to
my Salvation: shall I entertain thee against my Sovereign Lord? How then shall
I look him in the face at his coming? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and
Servants, how can I expect the blessing? But indeed this Shame was a bold
villain; I could scarce shake him out of my company; yea, he would be haunting
of me, and continually whispering me in the ear, withsome one or other of the
infirmities that attend Religion; but at last I told him, 'Twas but in vain to
attempt further in this business; for those things that he disdained, in those
did I see most glory; and so at last I got past this importunate one. And when
I had shaken him off, then I began to sing:
The tryals that those men do meet withal,
That are obedient to the Heavenly call,
Are manifold, and suited to the flesh,
And come, and come, and come again afresh;
That now, or some time else, we by them may
Be taken, overcome, and cast away.
Oh, let the Pilgrims, let the Pilgrims then,
Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men.
Chr. I am glad, my Brother, that thou didst withstand this Villain so
bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name; for he is
so bold as to follow us in the Streets, and to attempt to put us to shame
before all men; that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good: but if he
was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does; but let us
still resist him; for notwithstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth the Fool
and none else. The Wise shall inherit glory, said Solomon, but shame shall be
the promotion of Fools.
Faith. I think we must cry to Him for help against Shame, that would have
us to be valiant for Truth upon the Earth.
Chr. You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that Valley?
Faith. No not I; for I had Sun-shine all the rest of the way through
that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Chr. 'Twas well for you; I am sure it fared for otherwise with me; I had
for a long season, as soon almost as I entred into that Valley, a dreadful
Combat with that foul Fiend Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he would have
killed me, especially when he got me down and crushed me under him, as if he
would have crushed me to pieces; for as he threw me, my Sword flew out of my
hand; nay, he told me, He was sure of me: But I cried to God, and he heard me,
and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entred into the Valley of the
Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it. I
thought I should have been killed there, over and over; but at last day brake,
and the Sun rose, and I went through that which was behind with far more ease
and quiet.
Moreover, I saw in my Dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as they went
on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is
Talkative, walking at a distance besides them; (for in this place there was
room enough for them all to walk). He was a tall man, and something more
comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in
this manner.
Faith. Friend, Whither away? Are you going to the Heavenly Country?
Talk. I am going to the same place.
Faith. That is well; then I hope we may have your good company.
Talk. With a very good will will I be your Companion.
Faith. Come on then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time in
discoursing of things that are profitable.
Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, with you
or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline to so
good a work; for to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend
their time (as they are in their travels), but chose much rather to be
speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble to me.
Faith. That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what things so worthy
of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on Earth as are the things of the
God of Heaven?
Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your saying is full of conviction;
and I will add, What thing so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of
the things of God? What things so pleasant? (that is, if a man hath any
delight in things that are wonderful) for instance, if a man doth delight to
talk of the History or the Mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk of
Miracles, Wonders, or Signs, where shall he find things recorded so
delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture?
Faith. That's true; but to be profited by such things in our talk should
be that which we design.
Talk. That's it that I said; for to talk of such things is most
profitable; for by so doing, a man may get knowledge of many things; as of the
vanity of earthly things; and the benefit of things above: (Thus in general)
but more particularly. By this a man may learn the necessity of the New -
birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness, &c.
Besides, by this a man may learn by talk, what it is to repent, to believe, to
pray, to suffer, or the like; by this also a man may learn what are the great
promises and consolations of the Gospel, to this own comfort. Further, by this
a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to
instruct the ignorant.
Faith. All this is true, and am I glad to hear these things from you.
Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause that so few understand the need
of faith, and the necessity of a work of Grace in their Soul, in order to
eternal life; but ignorantly live in the works of the Law, by which a man can
by no means obtain the Kingdom of Heaven.
Faith. But by your leave, Heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of God;
no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them.
Talk. All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing, except it
be given him from Heaven: all is of Grace, not of Works: I could give you a
hundred Scriptures for the confirmation of this.
Faith. Well then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at
this time found our discourse upon?
Talk. What you will. I will talk of things Heavenly, or things Earthly;
things Moral, or things Evangelical; things Sacred or things Prophane; things
past or things to come; things foreign or things at home; things more
Essential or things Circumstantial; provided that all be done to our profit.
Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian (for
he walked all this while by himself) he said to him, (but softly) what a brave
Companion have we got! Surely this man will make a very excellent Pilgrim.
Chr. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man with whom you
are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his, twenty of them that know
him not.
Faith. Do you know him then?
Chr. Know him! Yes, better than he knows himself.
Faith. Pray what is he?
Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our Town: I wonder that you
should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our Town is large.
Faith. Whose Son is he? And whereabout doth he dwell?
Chr. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt in Prating Row; and is
known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating
Row; and notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.
Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.
Chr. That is, to them who have thorough acquaintance with him, for he is
best abroad, near home he is ugly enough: Your saying that he is a pretty man,
brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of the Painter, whose
Pictures shew best at a distance, but very near, more unpleasing.
Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled.
Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or
that I should accuse any falsely: I will give you a further discovery of him:
This man is for any company, and for any talk; as he talketh now with you, so
he will talk when he is on the Ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his
crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth; Religion hath no place
in his heart, or house, or conversation; all he hath lieth in his tongue, and
his Religion is to make a noise therewith.
Faith. Say you so! Then am I in this man greatly deceived.
Chr. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the Proverb, They say and
do not: but the Kingdom of God is not in word, but in power. He talketh of
Prayer, of Repentance, of Faith, and of the New-birth; but he knows but only
to talk of them. I have been in his Family, and have observed him both at home
and abroad; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty
of Religion as the white of an Egg is of savour. There is there neither
Prayer, nor sign of Repentance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind serves God
better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame of Religion, to all
that know him; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the Town
where he dwells through him. Thus say the common people that know him, A Saint
abroad, and a Devil at home. His poor Family finds it so; he is such a churl,
such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his Servants, that they neither
know how to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him, say
'tis better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealing they shall
have at their hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them,
defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides he brings up his Sons to
follow his steps; and if he findeth in any of them a foolish timorousness,
(for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience) he calls them
fools and blockheads and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to
their commendations before others. For my part I am of opinion that he has by
his wicked life caused many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevent
not, the ruine of many more.
Faith. Well, my Brother, I am bound to believe you; not only because you
say you know him, but also because like a Christian, you make your reports of
men. For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill will, but because
it is even so as you say.
Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of
him as at the first you did; yea, had he received this report at their hands
only that are enemies to Religion, I should have thought it had been a
slander: (a lot that often falls from bad men's mouths upon good men's names
and professions;) but all these things, yea and a great many more as bad, of
my own knowledge I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of
him; they can neither call him Brother, nor Friend; the very naming of him
among them, makes them blush, if they know him.
Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I
shall better observe this distinction.
Chr. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are the Soul and
the body; for as the Body without the Soul is but a dead Carcass, so Saying,
if it be alone, is but a dead Carcass also. The Soul of Religion is the
practick part: Pure Religion and undefiled, before God and the Father, is
this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep
himself unspotted from the world. This Talkative is not aware of; he thinks
that hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and thus he deceiveth his
own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the Seed; talking is not sufficient
to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life; and let us assure
ourselves, that at the day of Doom men shall be judged according to their
fruits. It will not be said then, Did you believe? but Were you Doers, or
Talkers only? and accordingly shall they be judged. The end of the world is
compared to our Harvest, and you know men at Harvest regard nothing but fruit.
Not that anything can be accepted that is not of Faith; but I speak this to
shew you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day.
Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he describeth the
beast that is clean. He is such an one that parteth the Hoof and cheweth the
Cud: not that parteth the Hoof only, or that cheweth the Cud only. The Hare
cheweth the Cud, but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the Hoof. And this
truly resembleth Talkative; he cheweth the Cud, he seeketh knowledge, he
cheweth upon the Word; but he divideth not the Hoof, he parteth not with the
way of sinners; but as the Hare, he retaineth the foot of a Dog or Bear, and
therefore is unclean.
Chr. You have spoken, for ought I know, the true Gospel sense of those
Texts: And I will add another thing; Paul calleth some men, yea and those
great Talkers too, sounding Brass and tinkling Cymbals; that is, as he
expounds them in another place, Things without life, giving sound. Things
without life, that is, without the true Faith and Grace of the Gospel; and
consequently things that shall never be placed in the Kingdom of Heaven among
those that are the Children of life; though their sound, by their talk, be as
if it were the tongue or voice of an Angel.
Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick
of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him?
Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will
soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart, and turn
it.
Faith. What would you have me to do?
Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the
power of Religion; and ask him plainly (when he has approved of it, for that
he will) whether this thing be set up in his Heart, House, or Conversation.
Faith, Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come
what chear? How is it now?
Talk. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had a great deal of talk
by this time.
Faith. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it
with me to state the question, let it be this; How doth the saving Grace of
God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man?
Talk. I perceive then that our talk must be about the power of things:
Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And
take my answer in brief thus: First, Where the Grace of God is in the heart,
it causeth there a great out-cry against sin. Secondly -
Faith. Nay hold, let us consider of one at once: I think you should
rather say, It shews itself by inclining the Soul to abhor its sin.
Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and
abhorring of sin?
Faith. Oh! a great deal; a man may cry out against sin, or policy; but he
cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it: I have heard
many cry out against sin in the Pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in
the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph's Mistress cried out with a loud
voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would willingly, notwithstanding
that, have committed uncleanness with him. Some cry out against sin, even as
the Mother cries out against her Child in her lap, when she calleth it loose woman
and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.
Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.
Faith. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. But what is the
second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a work of Grace in the
heart?
Talk. Great knowledge of Gospel Mysteries.
Faith. This sign should have been first; bur first or last, it is also
false; for knowledge, great knowledge may be obtained in the mysteries of the
Gospel, and yet no work of Grace in the Soul. Yea, if a man have all
knowledge, he may yet be nothing; and so consequently be no child of God. When
Christ said, Do you know all these things? and the Disciples had answered,
Yes; he added Blessed are ye if ye do them. He doth not lay the blessing in
the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that
is not attended with doing; He that knoweth his Master's will, and doth it
not. A man may know like an Angel, and yet be no Christian, therefore your
sign of it is not true. Indeed to know is a thing that pleaseth Talkers and
Boasters; but to do is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good
without knowledge; for without that the heart is naught. There is therefore
knowledge and knowledge. Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of
things, and knowledge that is accompanied with the Grace of faith and love,
which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart; the first of
these will serve the Talker; but without the other the true Christian is not
content. Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy Law; yea I shall observe
it with my whole heart.
Talk. You lie at the catch again, this is not for edification.
Faith. Well, if aou please propound another sign how this work of Grace
discovereth itself where it is.
Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree.
Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?
Talk. You may use your liberty.
Faith. A work of Grace in the soul discovereth itself, either to him that
hath it, or to standers-by.
To him that hath it thus: It gives him conviction of sin, especially of
the defilement of his nature and the sin of unbelief (for the sake of which he
is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand by faith in Jesus
Christ). This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for
sin; he findeth moreover revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the
absolute necessity of closing with him for life, at the which he findeth
hungrings and thirstings after him, to which hungrings, Ec. the promise is
made. Now according to the strength or weakness of his Faith in his Saviour,
so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to
know him more, and also to serve him in this World. But though I say it
discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to
conclude that this is a work of Grace; because his corruptions now, and his
abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter; therefore in him that
hath this work, there is required a very sound Judgment before he can with
steadiness conclude that this is a work of Grace.
To others it is thus discovered:
1. By an experimental confession of his Faith in Christ.
2. By a life answerable to that confession, to wit, a life of holiness,
heart-holiness, family-holiness, (if he hath a Family) and by
conversation-holiness, in the World; which in the general teacheth him,
inwardly to abhor his sin, and himself for that in secret, to suppress it in
his Family, and to promote holiness in the World; not by talk only, as an
Hypocrite or Talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in Faith
and Love, to the power of the Word: And now Sir, as to this brief description
of the work of Grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have ought to
object, object; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second
question.
Talk. Nay my part is not now to object, but to hear, let me therefore
have your second question.
Faith. It is this. Do you experience the first part of this description
of it? and doth your life and conversation testify the same? or standeth your
Religion in Word or in Tongue, and not in Deed and Truth? Pray, if you incline
to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen
to; and also nothing but what your conscience can justify you in; for, not he
that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth. Besides, to
say I am thus and thus, when my Conversation and all my Neighbors tell me I
lye, is great wickedness.
Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush, but recovering himself,
thus he replied, You come now to Experience, to Conscience, and God; and to
appeal to him for justification of what is spoken: This kind of discourse I
did not expect; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because
I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a Catechiser,
and, though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my Judge. But I
pray will you tell me why you ask me such questions?
Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you
had ought else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of
you that you are a man whose Religion lies in talk, and that your conversation
gives this your Mouth-profession the lye. They say you are a spot among
Christians, and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly Conversation,
that some have already stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more are in
danger of being destroyed thereby; your Religion, and an Ale-house, and
Covetousness, and Uncleanness, and Swearing and Lying, and vain
Company-keeping, Etc... will stand together. The Proverb is true of you which
is said of a Whore, to wit, That she is a shame to all Women; so you are a
shame to all Professors.
Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly as
you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or melancholy man, not fit
to be discoursed with; and so adieu.
Chr. Then came up Christian, and said to his Brother, I told you how it
would happen; your words and his lusts could not agree; he had rather leave
your company than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said; let him go, the
loss is no man's but his own, he has saved us the trouble of going from him;
for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have been but a
blot in our company: besides, the Apostle says, From such withdraw thyself.
Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him, it may happen
that he will think of it again; however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so
am clear of his blood, if he perisheth.
Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did. There is but
little of this faithful dealing with men now a days, and that makes Religion
to stink so in the nostrils of many, as it doth; for they are these Talkative
Fools whose Religion is only in word, and are debauched and vain in their
Conversation, that (being so much admitted into the fellowship of the godly)
do puzzle the World, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere. I wish that
all men would deal with such as you have done: then should they either be made
more conformable to Religion, or the company of Saints would be too hot for
them. Then did Faithful say,
How Talkative at first lifts up his Plumes!
How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes
To drive all before him! But so soon
As Faithful talks of Heart-work, like the Moon
That's past the full, into the wane he goes.
And so will all, but he that Heart-work knows.
Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made
that way easy, which would otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them; for
now they went through a Wilderness.
Now when they were got almost quite out of this Wilderness, Faithful
chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming after them, and he knew
him. Oh! said Faithful to his Brother, Who comes yonder? Then Christian
looked, and said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too,
said Faithful, for 'twas he that set me the way to the Gate. Now was
Evangelist come up unto them, and thus saluted them:
Evan. Peace be with you, dearly beloved, and peace be to your helpers.
Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the sight of thy countenance
brings to my remembrance thy antient kindness and unwearied laboring for my
eternal good.
Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful: Thy company, O
sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to us poor Pilgrims!
Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you my friends, since
the time of our last parting? What have you met with, and how have you behaved
yourselves?
Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to
them in the way; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to that
place.
Evan. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have met with
trials, but that you have been victors; and that you have (notwithstanding
many weaknesses) continued in the way to this very day.
I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and
yours: I have sowed, and you have reaped; and the day is coming, when both he
that sowed and they that reaped shall rejoice together; that is, if you hold
out: for in due time ye shall reap, if you faint not. The Crown is before you,
and it is an incorruptible one; so run that you may obtain it. Some there be
that set out for this Crown, and after they have gone far for it, another
comes in, and takes it from them; hold fast therefore that you have, let no
man take your Crown. You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the Devil; you
have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin; let the Kingdom be always
before you, and believe steadfastly concerning things that are invisible. Let
nothing that is on this side the other world get within you; and above all,
look well to your own hearts, and to the lusts thereof, for they are deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked; set your faces like a flint; you
have all power in Heaven and Earth on your side.
Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation, but told him withal,
that they would have him speak farther to them for their help the rest of the
way, and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a Prophet, and could
tell them of things that might happen unto them, and also how they might
resist and overcome them. To which request Faithful also consented. So
Evangelist began as followeth:
Evan. My Sons, you have heard, in the words of the truth of the Gospel,
that you must through many tribulations enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. And
again, that in every City bonds and afflictions abide in you; and therefore
you cannot expect that you should go long on your Pilgrimage without them, in
some sort or other. You have found something of the truth of these testimonies
upon you already, and more will immediately follow; for now, as you see, you
are almost out of this Wilderness, and therefore you will soon come into a
Town that you will by and by see before you; and in that Town you will be
hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you; and be
ye sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold, with
blood; but be you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a Crown of
life. He that shall die there, although his death will be unnatural, and his
pain perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow; not only
because he will be arrived at the Coelestial City soonest, but because he will
escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his Journey.
But when you are come to the Town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here
related, then remember your friend, and quit yourselves like men, and commit
the keeping of your souls to your God in well-doing, as unto a faithful
Creator.
Then I saw in my Dream, that when they were got out of the Wilderness,
they presently saw a Town before them, and the name of that Town is Vanity;
and at the Town there is a Fair kept, called Vanity Fair: it is kept all the
year long; it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the Town where 'tis
kept is lighter than Vanity; and also because all that is there sold, or that
cometh thither, is Vanity. As is the saying of the wise, All that cometh is
Vanity.
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