T H E
T H I S W O R L D
That which is to Come;
Delivered under the similitude of a
D R E A M,
Wherein is Discovered
The Manner of his setting out,
His Dangerous J O U R N E Y,
A N D
Safe Arrival at the Desired Country.
By J O H N. B U N Y A N.
L O N D O N,
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a den; and I laid me down in that place to sleep: and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and, behold, "I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back," (Isa. 64:6; Luke 14:33; Psa. 38:4; Hab. 2:2; Acts 16:31). 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?" (Acts 2:37).
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?" (Acts 16:30, 31).
I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would run; yet he stood still, because, as I perceived, he could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, who asked, "Where fore 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, (Heb. 9:27); and I find that I am not willing (Job 16:21, 22) to do the first, nor able (Eze. 22:14) to do the second.
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 (Isa. 30:33). And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from thence to execution; and the thoughts of these things make me cry.
Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why standest thou still? He answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll, and there was written within, "Fly from the wrath to come" (Matt. 3:7).
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? (Matt. 7:13). The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light? (Psa. 119:105; 2 Peter 1:19). He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now, he had not ran far from his own door, but his wife and children perceiving it, began to cry after him to return (Luke 14:26); but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, Life! life! Eternal life ! So he looked not behind him (Gen. 19:17), but fled towards the middle of the plain.
The neighbours also came out to see him run, and as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return; and among those that did so, there were two that were resolved to fetch him back by force (Jer. 20:10). The name of the one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now by this time, the man was got a good distance from them; but, however, they were resolved to pursue him; which they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man, Neighbours, wherefore are ye come? They said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can by no means be. You dwell, said he, in the City of Destruction, the place also where I was born; I see it to be so; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a place that burns with fire and brimstone. Be content, good neighbours, and go along with me.
What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us?
Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that all "which you shall forsake" (2 Cor. 4:18), is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy; and if you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as I myself, for there, where I go, is enough and to spare (Luke 15:17). 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" (1 Peter 1:4), and it is laid up in Heaven (Heb. 11:16), 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, saith the other; because I have laid my hand to the plough (Luke 9:62).
OBST. Come, then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without him; there is a company of these crazed- headed coxcombs, that when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason (Prov. 26:16).
PLI. Then said Pliable, Do not revile; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks after are better than ours; my heart inclines to go with my neighbour.
OBST. What! more fools still? Be ruled by me, and go back; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you? Go back, go back, and be wise.
CHR. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour 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 expressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it (Heb. 13:20, 21; 9:17-21).
PLI. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to come to a point; I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him. But, my 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 neighbour, 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 misled fantastical fellows.
Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the plain; and thus they began their discourse.
CHR. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me; had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt, of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back.
PLI. Come, neighbour Christian, since there is none but us two here, tell me now further, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going.
CHR. I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them with my tongue; but yet since 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 lie (Titus 1:2).
PLI. Well said. What things are they?
CHR. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom forever (Isa. 45:17; John 10:27-29).
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! (2 Tim. 4:8; Rev. 3:4; Matt. 13:43).
PLI. This is very pleasant. And what else?
CHR. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow; for He that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes (Isa. 25:8; Rev. 7:17, 17; 21:4).
PLI. And what company shall we have there?
CHR. There we shall be with seraphims, and Cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them. There, also, you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands that have gone before us to that Place; none of them are hurtful, but loving and holy, everyone walking in the sight of God, and standing in His presence with acceptance forever; 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 clothed with immortality as with a garment (Isa. 6:2; 1 Thess. 4:16, 17; Rev. 7:17; 4:4; 14:1-5; John 12:25; 2 Cor. 5:2- 5).
PLI. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart; but are these things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to be sharers thereof?
CHR. The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded, that in this book, the substance of which is, if we be truly willing to have it, He will bestow it upon us freely (Isa. 55:1, 2, 12; John 7:37; 6:37; Psa. 21:6; 22:17).
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 on my back. Now I saw in my dream, that, just as they had ended this talk, they drew near to a very miry slough that was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was De spond. 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! neighbour Christian, where are you now?
CHR. Truly, said Christian, I do not know.
PLI. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our journey's end? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone for me. And with that he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next to his own house: so away he went, and Christian saw him no more. Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Despond alone; but still he endeavoured to struggle to that side of the slough that was still further from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate; the which he did, but could not get out, because of the burden that was upon his back. But I beheld in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him what he did there?
CHR. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to come. And as I was going thither, I fell in here.
HELP. But why did not you look for the 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 (Psa. 40:2).
Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore (since over this place is the way from the City of Destruction, to yonder gate) is it that this plat is not mended, that poor travelers might go thither with more security? And he said unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended. It is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin, doth continually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond: for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. And this is the reason of the badness of this ground.
It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so bad (Isa. 35:3, 4); his labourers, also, have, by the directions of his Majesty's surveyors, been, for above these 1,600 years, employed about this patch of ground, if, perhaps, it might have been mended; yea, and to my knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at least 20,000 cart-loads; yea, millions of wholesome instructions, that have, at all seasons, been brought from all places of the King's dominions, and they that can tell, say, they are the best materials to make good ground of the place, if so be it might have been mended; but it is the Slough of Despond still ; and so will be when they have done what they can.
True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and substantial steps, placed even through the very midst of this slough; but at such time as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen; or if they be, men, through the dizziness of their heads, step 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 (1 Sam. 12:23).
Now I saw in my dream, that, by this time, Pliable was got home to his house again; so that his neighbours came to visit him; and some of them called him wise man for coming back, and some called him fool for hazarding himself with Christian; others, again, did mock at his cowardliness, saying, "Surely, since you began to venture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficulties." So Pliable sat sneaking among them. But, at last, he got more confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable.
Now as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, he espied one afar off come crossing over the field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way of each other. The gentleman's name that met him was Mr. Worldly-wiseman; he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very great town, and also hard by from whence Christian came. This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling of him, for Christian's setting forth from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but, also, it began to be the town-talk in some other places. 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 (1 Cor. 7:29).
WORLD. Wilt thou hearken unto 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 you go this way to be rid of thy burden?
CHR. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist.
WORLD. I beshrew him for his counsel! there is not a more dangerous and trouble some way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee; and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive already; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is the beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear me, I am older than thou; thou art like to meet with, on 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, if 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 a very good name, that has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are from their shoulders: yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way; aye, 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, be hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, where there are houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable rates; provision is there also cheap and good; and that which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit and good fashion.
Now was Christian somewhat at a stand; but presently he concluded, if this be true, which this gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice; and with that he thus further spoke.
CHR. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house?
WORLD. Do you see yonder 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 wotted not what to do. Also his burden now seemed heavier to him, than while he was in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned (Exo. 19:16, 18). Here, therefore, he sweat and did quake for fear (Heb. 12:21). 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 dost thou here, Christian? said he: at which words Christian knew not what to answer; wherefore at present he stood speechless before him. Then said Evangelist further, Art not thou the man that I found crying without the walls of the City of Destruction?
CHR. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man.
EVAN. Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket- gate?
CHR. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian.
EVAN. How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned aside? for thou art now out of the way.
CHR. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough of Despond, who persuaded me that I might, in the village before me, find a man that could take off my burden.
EVAN. What was he?
CHR. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me at last to yield; so I came hither: but when I beheld this 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 it was ease that I sought. And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate, to receive further direction how I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said that he would show me a better way, and short, not so attended with difficulties as the way, Sir, that you set me in; which way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house that hath skill to take off these burdens: so I believed him, and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, I stopped for fear (as I said) of danger: but I now know not what to do.
EVAN. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I may show 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" (Heb. 12:25). He said, moreover, "Now the just shall live by faith: but if any man draw back, My soul shall have no pleasure in him" (Heb. 10:38). He also did thus apply them: Thou art the man that art running into this misery; thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition!
Then Christian fell down at his foot as dead, crying, "Woe is me, for I am undone!" At the sight of which, Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, "All manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men" (Matt. 12:31; Mark 3:28); "Be not faithless, but believing" (John 20:27). 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 show 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 (1 John 4:5), (therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to church); and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross (Gal. 6:12). And because he is of this carnal temper, therefore 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. And, 3. His setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of death.
First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; 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" (Luke 13:24), the gate to which I send thee; for "strait is the gate which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it" (Matt. 7:14). From this little wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction; hate, 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 in Egypt" (Heb. 11:25, 26). Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that "will save his life shall lose it" (Mark 8:35; John 12:25; Matt. 10:39). And, "He that comes after Him, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple" (Luke 14:26). I say, therefore, for man to labour to persuade thee, that that shall be thy death, without which, THE TRUTH hath said, thou canst not have eternal life; this doctrine thou must abhor.
Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth to the ministration of death. And for this thou must consider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden.
He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is the son of the bond woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children (Gal. 4:21-27); and is, in a mystery, this mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, if she, with her children, are in bondage, how canst thou expect by them to be made free? This Legality, therefore, is not able to set thee free from thy burden. No man was as yet ever rid of his burden by him; no, nor ever is like to be: ye cannot be justified by the works of the law; for by the deeds of the law no man living can be rid of his burden: therefore, Mr. Worldly- wiseman is an alien, and Mr. Legality is a cheat; and for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise, that thou hast heard of these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, by turning thee from the way in which I had set thee. After this, Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for confirmation of what he had said: and with that there came words and fire out of the mountain under which poor Christian stood, that made the hair of his flesh stand up. The words were thus pronounced: "As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse; for it is written, Cursed is everyone that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them (Gal. 3:10).
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 the prevalency with him as to cause him to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself again to Evangelist, in words and sense as follows:-
CHR. Sir, what think you? Is there hope? May I now go back, and go up to the wicket-gate? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from thence ashamed? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man's counsel. But may my sin be forgiven?
EVAN. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great, for by it thou hast committed two evils; thou hast forsaken the way that is good, to tread in forbidden paths; yet will the man at the gate receive thee, for he has good-will for men; 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" (Psa. 2:12). Then did Christian address himself to go back; and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God-speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake he to any man by the way; nor, if any asked him, would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he left, to follow Mr. Worldly-wiseman's counsel. So, in process of time, Christian got up to the gate. Now, over the gate there was written, "Knock, and it shall be opened unto you" (Matt. 7:8).
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 them that are with him shoot arrows at those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in.
Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man of the gate asked him who directed him thither?
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 neighbours 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 neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came on my way.
GOOD-WILL. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back?
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 at the Slough of Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my neighbour, 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 celestial glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to obtain it?
CHR. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and if I should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no betterment betwixt him and myself. It is true, he went back to his own house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being persuaded thereto by the carnal arguments of one Mr. Worldly-wiseman.
GOOD-WILL. Oh! did he light upon you? What! he would have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. Legality. They are, both of them, a very cheat. But did you take his counsel?
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; it is 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 it was God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit, indeed, for death, by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord; but, 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 are "in no wise cast out" (John 6:37); 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, are there no turnings nor windings, by which a stranger may lose his way?
GOOD-WILL. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked and wide. But thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being straight and narrow (Matt. 7:14).
Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further if he could not help him off with his burden that was upon his back; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he by any means get it off without help.
He told him, as to thy burden, be content to bear it, until thou comest to the place of deliverance; for there it will fall from thy back of itself.
Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. So the other told him, That by that he was gone some distance from the gate, he would come at the house of the Interpreter; at whose door he should knock, and he would show 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 traveler, 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 show me excellent things, such as would be a help to me in my journey.
INTER. Then said the Interpreter, Come in; I will show thee that which will be profitable to thee. So He commanded His man to light the candle, and bid Christian 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 its head.
CHR. Then said Christian, What meaneth this?
INTER. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand; he can beget children (1 Cor. 4:15), travail in birth with children (Gal. 4;19), and nurse them himself when they are born. And whereas thou seest him with his eves lift up to Heaven, the best of books in his hand, and the law of truth writ on his lips, it is to show thee, that his work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners; even as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men; and whereas thou seest the world as cast behind him, and that a crown hangs over his head, that is to show 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 showed thee this picture first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going, hath authorized to be thy guide in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way; wherefore, take good heed to what I have showed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen, lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death.
Then He took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour that was full of dust, because never swept; the which, after He had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now, when he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian had almost therewith been choked. Then said the Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, Bring hither the water, and sprinkle the room; the which, when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure.
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 choked therewith; this is to show 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 (Rom. 7:6; 1 Cor. 15:56; Rom. 5:20).
Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure; this is to show 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 (John 15:3; Eph. 5:26; Acts 15:9; Rom. 16:25, 26; John 15:13).
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 elder was Passion, and the name of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much discontented; but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion? The Interpreter answered, The Governor of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next year; but he will have all now; but patience is willing to wait.
Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him a bag of treasure, and poured it down at his feet, the which he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing left him but rags.
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. First, Because he stays for the best things. Second, And also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags.
INTER. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world will never wear out; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at Patience, because he had his good things first, as Patience will have to laugh at Passion, because he had his best things last; for first must give place to last, because last must have his time to come; but last gives place to nothing; for there is not another to succeed. He, therefore, that hath his portion first, must needs have a time to spend it; but he that hath his portion last, must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, "Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented" (Luke 16:25).
CHR. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come.
INTER. You say the truth: "For the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal" (2 Cor. 4:18). But though this be so, yet since things present, and our fleshly appetite, are such near neighbours one to another; and again, because things to come, and carnal sense, are such strangers one to another; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fall into amity, and that distance is so continued between the second. Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand, and led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter.
Then said Christian, What means this?
The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought in the heart; he that casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out, is the Devil; but in that thou seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside of the wall, where be saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of the which He did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire.
Then said Christian, What means this?
The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart: by the means of which, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of His people prove gracious still (2 Cor. 12:9). And in that thou sawest that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire, that is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul.
I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately palace, beautiful to behold; at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted; he saw also, upon the top thereof, certain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold.
Then said Christian, May we go in thither?
Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein; he saw also, that in the doorway stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, when every man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying, "Set down my name, Sir": the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put 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 (Acts 14:22), and pressed forward into the palace, at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying- "Come in, come in; Eternal glory thou shalt win."
So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as they. Then Christian smiled and said, I think verily I know the meaning of this.
Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till I have showed thee a little 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 Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither (Luke 8:13).
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 is there no hope for such a man as this? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray Sir, do you.
INTER. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in the iron cage of despair?
MAN. No, none at all.
INTER. Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful.
MAN. I have crucified Him to myself afresh (Heb. 4:6); I have despised His person (Luke 19:14); I have despised His righteousness; I have "counted His blood an unholy thing"; I have "done despite to the Spirit of grace" (Heb. 10:28, 29). Therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings of certain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.
INTER. For what did you bring yourself into this condition?
MAN. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight; but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm.
INTER. But canst thou not now repent and turn?
MAN. God hath denied me repentance. His Word gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, Himself hath shut me up in this iron cage; nor can all the men in the world let me out. O eternity! eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity!
INTER. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.
CHR. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God help me to watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man's misery! Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now?
INTER. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way.
So He took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber, where there was one rising out of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble? The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew exceeding black; also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony; so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate, upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of Heaven; they were all in flaming fire: also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, "Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment"; and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains (1 Cor. 15:52; 1 Thess. 4:16; Jude 14; John 5:28, 29; 2 Thess. 1:7, 8; Rev. 20:11- 14; Isa. 26:21; Micah 7:16, 17; Psa. 95:1-3; Dan. 7:10). Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar (Mal. 3:2, 3; Dan. 7:9, 10). 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" (Matt. 3:12; 13:30; Mal. 4:1). And with that, the bottomless pit opened, just whereabouts 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" (Luke 3:17). And with that I saw many catched up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind (1 Thess. 4:16, 17). I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me: my sins also came into my mind; and my conscience did accuse me on every side (Rom. 2:14, 15). Upon this I awaked from my sleep.
CHR. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight?
MAN. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was not ready for it: but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several, and left me behind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My conscience, too, afflicted me; and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing 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 to address himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the City. So Christian went on his way, saying- "Here I have seen things rare and profitable; Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have begun to take in hand; Then let me think on them, and understand Wherefore they showed me were, and let me be Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee."
Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation (Isa. 26:1). Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.
He ran thus till be 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 checks (Zech. 12:10). Now, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three Shining Ones came to him and saluted him with "Peace be to thee." So the first said to him, "Thy sins be forgiven thee" (Mark 2:15): the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him "with change of raiment" (Zech. 3:4); the third also set a mark in his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he bade him look on as he ran, and that he should give it in at the Celestial Gate (Eph. 1:13). So they went their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing- Thus far I did come laden with my sin; Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in Till I came hither: What a place is this! 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 (Prov. 23:34). 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 (1 Peter 5:8). With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, "I see no danger"; Sloth said, "Yet a little more sleep"; and Presumption said, "Every fat must stand upon its own bottom; what is the answer else that I should give thee?" And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way.
Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by awakening of them, counseling 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 go you?
FORM. and HYP. We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are going for praise to Mount Sion.
CHR. Why came you not in at the gate, which standeth at the 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?" (John 10:1).
FORM. and HYP. They said, That to go to the gate for entrance was, by all their countrymen, counted too far about; and that, therefore, their usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as they had done.
CHR. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate His revealed will?
FORM. and HYP. They told him, that, as for that, he needed not to trouble his head thereabout; 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 any impartial judge; and beside, said they, if we get into the way, what's matter which way we get in? if we are in, we are in; thou art but in the way, who, as we 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 neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness.
CHR. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in by the door (Gal. 1:16). 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 His coat on my back-a coat that He gave me in the day that He stripped me of my rags. I have, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which, perhaps, you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll, sealed, to comfort me by reading, as I go on the way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all which things, I doubt, you want, and want them because you came not in at the gate.
To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each other, and laughed. Then I saw that they went on all, save that Christian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly and sometimes comfortably; also he would be often reading in the roll that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed.
I beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the Hill Difficulty; at the bottom of which was a spring. There were also in the same place two other ways besides that which came straight from the gate; one turned to the left hand, and the other to the right, at the bottom of the hill; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and the name of the going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the spring, and drank thereof, to refresh himself (Isa. 49:10), and then began to go up the hill, saying-
"The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, The difficulty will not me offend; For I perceive the way to life lies here. Come, pluck up heart, let's neither faint nor fear; Better, though difficult, the right way to go, Than wrong, though easy, where the end is Woe."
The other two also came to the foot of the hill; but when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go; and supposing also that these two ways might meet again, with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill; therefore they were resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of 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.
I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now, about the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant arbour, made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing of weary travelers; 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" (Prov. 6:6). And with that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace, till be came to the top of the hill.
Now, when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men running to meet him amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the other Mistrust; to whom Christian said, Sirs, what's the matter? You run the wrong way. Timorous answered, that they were going to the City of Zion, and had got up that difficult place; but, said he, the further we go, the more danger we meet with; wherefore we turned, and are going back again.
Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions in the way, whether sleeping or waking we know not, and we could not think, if we came within reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces.
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 Celestial City, I am sure to be in safety there. I must venture. To go back is nothing but death; to go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it. I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill, and Christian went on his way. But, thinking again of what he heard from the men, be felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be comforted; but he felt, and found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for he wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass into the Celestial City. Here, therefore, he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last, he bethought himself, that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side of the hill; and, falling down upon his knees, he asked God's forgiveness for that his foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart! Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus therefore he went back, carefully looking on this side, and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus, till he came again within sight of the arbour where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind (Rev. 2:5; 1 Thess. 5:7, 8). Thus, therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, "O wretched man that I am!" that I should sleep in the day time! that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims!
How many steps have I took in vain! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin; they were sent back again by the way of the Red Sea; and I am made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod but once; yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent. O that I had not slept!
Now by this time be was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking sorrowfully down under the settle, there he espied his roll; the which he, with trembling and haste, catched up, and put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man was when he had gotten his roll again! for this roll was the assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But O how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill! Yet, before be got up, the sun went down upon Christian; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance; and thus he again began to condole with himself. O thou sinful sleep! how, for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my journey! I must walk without the sun; darkness must cover the path of my feet; and I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep (1 Thess. 5:6, 7). Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the night for their prey; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift them? How should I escape being by them torn in pieces? Thus he went on his way. But while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful; and it stood just by the highway side.
So I saw in my dream, that he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far, be 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? (Mark 13:34-37). Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that have none. Keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.
Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate, where the porter was. Then said Christian to the porter, Sir, what house is this? and may I lodge here tonight? 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 tonight.
POR. What is your name?
CHR. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless; I came of the race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem (Gen. 9:27).
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 arbour that stands on the hill side; nay, I had, notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that, in my sleep, I lost my evidence, and came without it to the brow of the hill; and then feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced, with sorrow of heart, to go back to the place where I slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I am come.
POR. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family, according to the rules of the house. So 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 tonight, because, by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill, for the relief and security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes; and after a little pause, she said, I will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him into the family; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the house, said, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord"; this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together, that until supper was ready, some of them should have some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity to discourse with him; and thus they began:
PIETY. Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving to you, to receive you 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 country place where I was.
PIETY. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way? CHR. It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a man, even to me, as I 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; especially three things, to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains His work of grace in the heart; how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come.
PIETY. Why, did you hear him tell his dream?
CHR. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made my heart ache as he was telling of it; but yet I am glad I heard it.
PIETY. Was that all that you saw at the house of the Interpreter?
CHR. No; he took me and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were in it; and how there came a venturous man and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him out; and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart! I would have staid at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but that I knew I had further to go.
PIETY. And what saw you else in the way?
CHR. Saw! why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the tree; and the very sight of Him made my burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a very heavy burden), but then it fell down from off me. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before; yea, and while I stood looking up, for then I could not forbear looking, three Shining Ones came to me. One of them testified that my sins were forgiven me; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you see; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll. (And with that he plucked it out of his bosom).
PIETY. But you saw more than this, did you not?
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 Formality and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Zion, but they were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them; but they would not believe. But above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions' mouths; and truly if it had not been for the good man, the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know but that after all I might have gone back again; but now, I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me.
Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and desired his answer to them.
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, an heavenly" (Heb. 11:15, 16).
PRUD. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you were conversant withal?
CHR. Yes, but greatly against my will; especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with which all my countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted; but now all those things are my grief; and might I but choose mine own things, I would choose never to think of those things more; but when I would be doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with me (Rom. 7).
PRUD. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity?
CHR. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they are to me golden hours, in which such things happen to me.
PRUD. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances, at times, as if they were vanquished?
CHR. Yes; when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it; and when I look upon my broidered 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 (Isa. 25:8; Rev. 21:4). 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, O 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 shown them the danger of being behind.
CHR. So I did; and told them also what God had shown to me of the destruction of our city; "but I seemed to them as one that mocked," and they believed me not (Gen. 19:14).
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 my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour.
CHAR. Indeed Cain hated his brother, "because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous" (1 John 3:12); and if thy wife and children have been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be implacable to good, and "thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood" (Ezek. 3:19).
Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was ready. So when they had made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table was furnished "with fat things, and with wine that was well refined": and all their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill; as, namely, about what He had done, and wherefore He did what He did, and why He had builded that house. And by what they said, I perceived that He had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain "him that had the power of death," but not without great danger to Himself, which made me love Him the more (Heb. 2:14, 15).
For, as they said, and as I believe (said Christian), He did it with the loss of much blood; but that which put glory of grace into all He did, was, that He did it out of pure love to His country. And besides, there were some of them of the household that said they had been and spoke with Him since He did die on the cross; and they have attested that they had it from His own lips, that He is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west.
They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, He had stripped Himself of His glory, that He might do this for the poor; and that they heard Him say and affirm, "that He would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone." They said, moreover, that He had made many pilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their original had been the dunghill (1 Sam. 2:8; Psa. 113:7).
Thus they discoursed together till late at night; and after they had committed themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest: the Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened toward 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!
So, in the morning, they all got up; and after some more discourse, they told him that he should not depart till they had shown him the rarities of that place. And first, they had him into the study, where they showed him records of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I remember my dream, they showed him first the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that He was the Son of the Ancient of Days, and came by that eternal generation. Here also was more fully recorded the acts that He had done, and the names of many hundreds that He had taken into His service; and how He had placed them in such habitations, that could neither by length of days, nor decays of nature, be dissolved.
Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of His servants had done: as, how they had "subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens" (Heb. 11:33, 34).
They then read again in another part of the records of the house, where it was showed how willing their Lord was to receive into His favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great affronts to His person and proceedings. Here also were several other histories of many other famous things, of all which Christian had a view; as of things both ancient and modern; together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims.
The next day they took him and had him into the armoury, where they showed him all manner of furniture, which their Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and shoes that would not wear out. And there was here enough of this to harness out as many men, for the service of their Lord, as there be stars in the Heaven for multitude.
They also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants had done wonderful things. They showed him Moses' rod; the hammer and nail with which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which Gibeon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew 600 men. They showed him, also, the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats. They showed him, moreover, the sling and stone with which David slew Goliath of Gath; and the sword, also, with which their Lord will kill the Man of Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed him, besides, many excellent things, with which Christian was much delighted. This done, they went to their rest again.
Then I saw in my dream, that, on the morrow, he got up to go forward; but they desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains, which, they said, would yet further add to his comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was; so he consented and staid. 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 (Isa. 33:16, 17). Then he asked the name of the country. They said it was Immanuel's Land; and it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence, said they, thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make appear.
Now, he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he should, But first, said they, let us go again into the armoury. So they did; and when they came there, they harnessed him from head to foot with what was of proof, lest, perhaps, he should meet with assaults in the way. He being, therefore, thus accoutred, walketh out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by. Then the porter answered, Yes.
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 neighbour; 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 showed to me.
Then he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then, said Christian, as it was difficult coming up, so, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is, for it is a hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two. Then I saw in my dream that these good companions, when Christian was gone to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way.
But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it; for he had gone but a little way, before he espied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him; his name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or to stand his ground. But he considered again that he had no armour for his back; and, therefore, thought that to turn the back to him might give him the greater advantage, with ease to pierce him with his darts. Therefore he resolved to venture and stand his ground; for, thought he, had I no more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it would be the best way to stand.
So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold; he was clothed with scales, like a fish (and they are his pride), he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him.
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, that thou hast run away from thy king? Were it not that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now, at one blow, to the ground.
CHR. I was born, indeed, in your dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not live on, "for the wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23); 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 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 that thou goest. Thou knowest that, for the most part, His servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths! and, besides, thou countest His service better than mine, whereas He never came yet from the place where He is to deliver any that served Him out of their hands; but as for me, how many times, as all the world very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from Him and His, though taken by them; and so I will deliver thee.
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 thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their account; for, for present deliverance, they do not much expect it, for they stay for their glory, and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in His and the glory of the angels.
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 Despond; thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas against thou shouldest 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 has left out; but the Prince, whom I serve and honour, is merciful, and ready to forgive; but, besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy country, for there I sucked them in; and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince.
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 highway, the way of holiness; therefore take heed to yourself.
APOL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter: prepare thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul.
And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast; but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that.
Then did Christian draw; for he saw it was time to bestir him: and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back; Apollyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent; for you must know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker.
Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that, Christian's sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now. And with that he had almost pressed him to death; so that Christian began to despair of life: but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise" (Micah. 7:8); 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" (Rom. 8:37). And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian for a season saw him no more (James 4:7).
In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight-he spake like a dragon; and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then, indeed, he did smile, and look upward; but it was the most dreadful sight that ever I saw.
So when the battle was over, Christian said, "I will here give thanks to Him that delivered me out of the mouth of the lion, to Him that did help me against Apollyon." And so he did, saying-
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, The Valley of the Shadow of Death. and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: "A wilderness, a land of deserts, and of pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land that no man" (but a Christian) "passed through, and where no man dwelt" (Jer. 2:6).
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 (Num. 13), 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 (Psa. 44:19; 107:10).
CHR. But what have you seen? said Christian.
MEN. Seen! Why, the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch; we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit; we heard also in that Valley a 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 (Job 3:5; 10:26).
CHR. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven (Jer. 2:6).
MEN. Be it thy way; we will not choose it for ours. So they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword drawn in his hand; for fear lest he should be assaulted.
I saw then in my dream so far as this valley reached, there was on the right hand a very deep ditch: that ditch is it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished (Psa. 69:14, 15). Again, behold, on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, into which, if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom for his foot to stand on. Into that quag king David once did fall, and had no doubt therein been smothered, had not HE that is able plucked him out.
The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other; also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh bitterly; for besides the dangers mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not where, or upon what he should set it next.
About the midst of this valley, I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard by the way-side. 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 (Eph. 4:18). So he cried in my hearing, "O Lord, I beseech Thee, deliver my soul!" (Psa. 116:4). Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him. Also be heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles together. And, coming to a place, where be thought he heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped and began to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to go back; then again he thought he might be half way through the valley; he remembered also how be had already vanquished many a danger, and that the danger of going back might be much more than for to go forward; so he resolved to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer; but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, "I will walk in the strength of the Lord God"; so they gave back, and came no further.
One thing I would not let slip; I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not know his own voice; and thus I perceived it. Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stept up softly to him, and, whisperingly, suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than anything that he met with before; even to think that he should now blaspheme Him that he loved so much before; yet, if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these blasphemies came.
When Christian had traveled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me" (Psa. 23:4).
Then he was glad, and that for these reasons:
First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God, were in this valley as well as himself.
Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and dismal state; and why not, thought he, with me? though, by reason of the impediment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it (Job. 9:11).
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" (Amos 5:8).
Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in the dark. So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that was on the other; also how narrow the way was which led betwixt them both; also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all afar off (for after break of day, they came not nigh); yet they were discovered to him, according to that which is written, "He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death" (Job 12:22).
Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from all the dangers of his solitary way; which dangers, though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them 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 were when he came the first part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away; but, as I said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he, "His candle shineth upon my head, and by His light I walk through darkness" (Job 29:3).
In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly; and while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me a cave, where two giants, POPE and PAGAN, dwelt in old time; by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, &c., lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have learnt since, that PAGAN has been dead many a day; and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them.
So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight of the Old Man that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think, especially because he spake to him, though he could not go after him; saying, "You will never mend, till more of you be burned." But he held his peace, and set a good face on it, and so went by and catched no hurt. Then sang Christian,
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 deliver'd me! Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, Did compass me, while I this vale was in: Yea, snares and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie My path about, that worthless, silly I Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down; But since I live, let JESUS wear the crown.
Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was cast up on purpose, that pilgrims might see before them. Up there, therefore, Christian went; and looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, "Ho! ho! Soho! stay, and I will be your companion." At that, Faithful looked behind him; to whom Christian cried again, "Stay, stay, till I come up to you." But Faithful answered, "No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is behind me."
At this, Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly takes 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 neighbours talk so?
FAITH. Yes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth.
CHR. What! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger?
FAITH. Though there were, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly believe it. For in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you, and of your desperate journey (for so they called this your pilgrimage), but I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above; and therefore I have made my escape.
CHR. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable?
FAITH. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not be known to have so done; but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt.
CHR. And what said the neighbours to him?
FAITH. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of people; some do mock and despise him; and scarce will any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the City.
CHR. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise the way that he forsook?
FAITH. O! they say, Hang him, he is a turn-coat; he was not true to his profession. I think God has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way (Jer. 29:18, 19).
CHR. Had you no talk with him before you came out?
FAITH. I met him once in the streets, but be 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 own vomit again; and the sow that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire" (2 Peter 2:22).
FAITH. These are my fears of him too; but who can hinder that which will be?
CHR. Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now, what you have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.
FAITH. I escaped the Slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton, who had like to have done me a mischief.
CHR. It was well you escaped her net; Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life (Gen. 39:11-13). 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" (Pro. 22:14).
FAITH. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no.
CHR. Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires?
FAITH. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing that I had seen, which said, "Her steps take hold on hell" (Prov. 5:5). So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks (Job 31:1). Then she railed on me, and I went my way.
CHR. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?
FAITH. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I am a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit (Eph. 4:22). I asked him then, what was his work, and what the wages that he would give. He told me, that his work was many delights; and his wages, that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him, what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me, that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world; and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any children. He said that he had but three daughters; the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all if I would (1 John 2:16). Then I asked how long time he would have me live with him? And he told me, As long as he lived himself.
CHR. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to, at last?
FAITH. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there written, "Put off the old man with his deeds."
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!" (Rom. 7:24). So I went on my way up the hill.
Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands.
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 show 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 show mercy to those that transgress his law.
FAITH. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my house over my head, if I stayed there.
CHR. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you?
FAITH. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it; but for the lions, I think they were asleep; for it was about noon; and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the porter, and came down the hill.
CHR. He told me indeed, that he saw you go by, but I wish you had called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility?
FAITH. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded me to go back again with him; his reason was, for that the valley was altogether 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 named might claim kindred of me, and that rightly, for indeed they were my relations according to the flesh, yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, as I also have rejected them; and therefore they were to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage.
I told him, moreover, that as to this valley he had quite misrepresented the thing; "for before honour is humility; and a haughty spirit before a fall." Therefore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy our affections.
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 others would be said nay, after a little argumentation, and somewhat else; but this bold-faced Shame would never have done.
CHR. Why, what did he say to you?
FAITH. What! why, he objected against religion itself; he said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking 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 (1 Cor. 1:26; 3:18; Phil. 3:7, 8); nor any of them neither (John 7:48), before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness, to venture the loss of all, for nobody knows what. He moreover objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims, of the times in which they lived; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I relate; as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home; that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said also, that religion made 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 the first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face; even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite off. But, at last, I began to consider, that "that which is highly esteemed among men, is had in abomination with God" (Luke 16:15). 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, indeed is best, though all the men in the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God prefers His religion; seeing God prefers a tender conscience; seeing they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of Heaven are wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than the greatest man in the world that hates Him; Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation. Shall I entertain thee against my sovereign Lord? How then shall I look Him in the face at His coming? Should I now be ashamed of His ways and servants, how can I expect the blessing? (Mark 8:38). 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, with some one or other of the infirmities that attend religion; but at last I told him it was but in vain to attempt further in this business; for those things that he disdained, in those did I see most glory; and so at last I got past this importunate one. And when I had shaken him off, then I began to sing-
The trials that those men do meet withal, That are obedient to the heavenly call, Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, And come, and come, and come again afresh; That now, or sometime else, we by them may Be taken, overcome, and cast away. O 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 were 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" (Prov. 3:35).
FAITH. I think we must cry to Him for help against Shame, who would have us to be valiant for the truth upon the earth.
CHR. You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that valley?
FAITH. No, not I, for I had sunshine all the rest of the way through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
CHR. It was well for you. I am sure it fared far otherwise with me; I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, a dreadful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, especially when he got me down and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces; for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he told me he was sure of me; but I cried to God, and He heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it. I thought I should have been killed there, over and over; but at last day broke, and the sun rose, and I went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet.
Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance 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 choose 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 sayings are full of conviction; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What things so pleasant (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful)? For instance, if a man doth delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture?
FAITH. That is true; but to be profited by such things in our talk should be that which we design.
TALK. That is 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 his own comfort. Further, by this a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant.
FAITH. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you.
TALK. Alas! the want of this is the cause why 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 profane; 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 that tongue of his, 20 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 does he dwell?
CHR. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt in Prating Row; and he is known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating Row; and notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.
FAITH. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.
CHR. That is, to them who have not thorough 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 show best at a distance, but, very near, more unpleasing.
FAITH. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled.
CHR. God forbid that I should jest (although I smiled) in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely! I will give you a further discovery of him. This man is for any company, and for any talk; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth; religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation; all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to make a noise therewith. FAITH. Say you so! then am I in this man greatly deceived.
CHR. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the proverb, "They say, and do not" (Matt. 23:3). But the "kingdom of God is not in word, but in power" (1 Cor. 4:20). He talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth; but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad; 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 far 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 (Rom. 2:24, 25). 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, it is better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealing they shall have at their hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them, 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 ruin of many more.
FAITH. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you; not only because you say you know him, but also because, like a Christian, you make your reports of men. For I 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 practical 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" (James 1:27; see ver. 22-26). 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 (Matt. 13:25). 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 show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day.
FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he describeth the beast that is clean (Lev. 11; Deut. 14). He is such a 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 be 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 he is unclean.
CHR. You have spoken, for aught 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" (1 Cor. 13:1-3; 14:7). 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 cheer? How is it now?
TALK. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time.
FAITH. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it with me to state the question, let it be this: How doth the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man?
TALK. I perceive then, that our talk must be about the power of things. Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And take my answer in brief, thus: First, Where the grace of work of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly-
FAITH. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. I think you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin.
TALK. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of sin?
FAITH. O! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin of policy, but he cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it. I have heard many cry 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 (Gen. 39:15). Some cry out against sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.
TALK. You lie at the catch, I perceive.
FAITH. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. But what is the second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart?
TALK. Great knowledge of Gospel mysteries.
FAITH. This sign should have been first; but first or last, it is also false; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained in the mysteries of the Gospel, and yet no work of grace in the soul (1 Cor. 13). 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 addeth, "Blessed are ye if ye do them." He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing: "He that knoweth his master's will, and doeth it not." A man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian, therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters; but to do is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good without knowledge; for without that the heart is naught. 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" (Psa. 119:34).
TALK. You lie at the catch again; this is not for edification.
FAITH. Well, if you 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) (John 16:8; Rom. 7:24; John 16:9; Mark 16:16). 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 hungerings and thirstings after Him; to which hungerings, &c., the promise is made (Psa. 38:18; Jer. 31:19; Gal. 2:16; Acts 4:12; Matt. 5:6; Rev. 21:60). 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 (Rom. 10:10; Phil. 1:27; Matt. 5:19).
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 a hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in faith and love, to the power of the Word (John 14:15; Psa. 1:23; Job 42:5, 6; Ezek. 20:43). And now, Sir, as to this brief description of the work of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object, object; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second question.
TALK. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear; let me, therefore, have your second question.
FAITH. It is this: Do you experience this 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 neighbours, tell me I lie, 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 aught 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 lie. They say, you are a spot among Christians; and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly conversation; that some already have stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby; your religion, and an ale- house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain company keeping, &c., will stand together. The proverb is true of you which is said of a whore, to wit, that she is a shame to all women; so are you a shame to all professors.
TALK. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude 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 down all before him! But so soon As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon That's past the full, into the wane he goes. And so will all, but he that HEART-WORK knows.
Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way easy which would, otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them; for now they went through a wilderness.
Now, when they were got almost quite out of this 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. Aye, and my good friend too, said Faithful, for it was 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 ancient kindness and unwearied labouring for my eternal good.
FAITH. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful. Thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable it is to us poor pilgrims!
EVAN. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, my friends, since the time of our last 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 for 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 season ye shall reap, if ye faint not" (John 4:36; Gal. 6:9). The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one; "so run, that you may obtain" it (1 Cor. 9:24-27). Some there be that set out for this crown, and, after they have gone far for it, another comes in, and takes it from them; hold fast, therefore, that you have, let no man take your crown (Rev. 3:11). 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 further to them for their help the rest of the way, and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen 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 you sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold, with blood; but be you faithful unto death, and the King will 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 Celestial City soonest, but because he will escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his journey. But when you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then remember your friend and quit yourselves like men, and commit the keeping of your souls to 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 it is 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" (Eccl. 1; 2:11, 17; 11:8; Isa. 40:17).
This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing; I will show you the original of it.
Almost 5,000 years agone, there were pilgrims walking to the Celestial City as these two honest persons are: and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the path that the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, and that it should last all the year long: therefore at this fair are all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not. And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times, to be seen juggling, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind.
Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false swearers, and that of a blood- red colour.
And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and streets, under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended; so here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets (viz. countries and kingdoms), where the wares of this fair are soonest to be found. Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in this fair; only our English nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat.
Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through this town where this lusty fair is kept; and he that will go to the City, and yet not go through this town, must needs "go out of the world" (1 Cor. 5:10). The Prince of princes Himself, when here, went through this town to His own country, and that upon a fair day too; yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited Him to buy of his vanities; yea, would have made Him lord of the fair, would He but have done him reverence as He went through the town (Matt. 4:8; Luke 4:5- 7). Yea, because He was such a person of honour, Beelzebub had Him from street to street, and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure the Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his vanities; but He had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair. Now these Pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so they did; but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the town itself as it were in a hubbub about them; and that for several reasons; for-
First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was diverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a great gazing upon them: some said they were fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are outlandish men (1 Cor. 2:7, 8).
Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech; for few could understand what they said; they naturally spoke the language of Canaan, but they that kept the fair were the men of this world; so that, from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other.
Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was, that these pilgrims set very light by all their wares; they cared not so much as to look upon them; and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, "Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity," and look upwards, signifying that their trade and traffic was in Heaven (Psa. 119:37; Phil. 3:19, 20).
One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto them, What will ye buy? But they, looking gravely upon him, answered, "We buy the truth" (Psa. 23:23). At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more: some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to a hubbub, and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was confounded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these men into examination, about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were brought to examination; and they that sat upon them, asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb? The men told them, that they were pilgrims and strangers in the world, and that they were going to their own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem (Heb. 9:13-16); and that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except it was, for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they that were appointed to examine them did not believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. There, therefore, they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge, the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell them. But the men being patient, and not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise, blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing, and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for their continual abuses done by them to the men; they, therefore, in angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates, and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The other replied, that for aught they could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and intended nobody any harm; and that there were many that traded in their fair, that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them, they fell to some blows among themselves, and did harm one to another. Then were these two poor men brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down the fair, for an example and a terror to others, lest any should speak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much meekness and patience, that it won to their side, though but few in comparison of the rest, several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened, that the cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die, for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair.
Then were they remanded to the cage again, until further order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the stocks.
Here, therefore, they called again to mind what they had heard from their faithful friend Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them. They also now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that he might have that preferment: but committing themselves to the all-wise disposal of Him that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of.
Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in order to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their enemies and arraigned. The Judge's name was Lord Hate-good. Their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form, the contents whereof were this-
"That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their trade; that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince."
Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And, said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace; the parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you talk of, since be is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his angels.
Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked if they knew the prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the king against him.
Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect, My Lord, I have known this man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this honourable bench, that he is-
JUDGE. Hold. Give him his oath. (So they sware him). Then he said-
ENVY. My Lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country. He neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom; but doth all that he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the general calls principles of faith and holiness. And, in particular, I heard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity, were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled. By which saying, my Lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them.
JUDGE. Then did the Judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say?
ENVY. My Lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the court. Yet, if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid stand by.
Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner. They also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against him. Then they sware him; so he began.
SUPER. My Lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of him; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that, the other day, I had with him in this town; for then talking with him, I heard him say, that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means please God. Which sayings of his, my Lord, your Lordship very well knows, what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we do still worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned; and this is that which I have to say.
Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew, in behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar.
PICK. My Lord, and you gentlemen all, This fellow I have known of a long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoke; for he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his honourable friends, whose names are the Lord Old Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of Vain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our nobility; and he hath said, moreover, That if all men were of his mind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen should have any longer a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my Lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly villain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town.
When this Pickthank had told his tale, the Judge directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee?
FAITH. May I speak a few words in my own defence?
JUDGE. Sirrah ! Sirrah! thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately upon the place; yet, that all men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to say.
FAITH. 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, That what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were flat against the Word of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to make my recantation.
2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I said only this, That in the worship of God there is required a Divine faith; but there can be no Divine faith without a Divine revelation of the will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God that is not agreeable to Divine revelation, cannot be done but by a human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life.
3. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say (avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like), that the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit for a being in hell, than in this town and country: and so, the Lord have mercy upon me!
Then the Judge called to the jury (who all this while stood by, to hear and observe); Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so great an uproar hath been made in this town. You have also heard what these worthy gentlemen have witnessed against him. Also you have heard his reply and confession. It lieth now in your breasts to hang him, or save his life; but yet I think meet to instruct you into our law.
There was an Act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our prince, that lest those of a contrary religion should multiply, and grow too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river (Exo. 1). There was also an Act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, another of his servants, that whosoever would not fall down and worship his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace (Dan. 3). There was also an Act made in the days of Darius, that whoso, for some time, called upon any God but him, should be cast into the lions' den (Dan. 6). Now the substance of these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought (which is not to be borne) but also in word and deed; which must therefore needs be intolerable.
For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition, to prevent mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For the second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and for the treason he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death.
Then went the jury out, whose names were, Mr. Blind-man, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable; who every one gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the Judge. And first, among themselves, Mr. Blind- man, the foreman, said, I see clearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out of the way, said Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore, let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death. And so they did; therefore he was presently condemned, to be had from the place where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented.
They, therefore, brought him out, to do with him according to their law; and, first, they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives; after that, they stoned him with stones, then pricked him with their swords; and, last of all, they burned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end.
Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude, a chariot and a couple of horses, waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries had despatched him) was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the Celestial Gate. But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was remanded back to prison. So he there remained for a space; but He that overrules all things, having the power of their rage in His own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way; and as he went, he sang, saying-
Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest Unto thy Lord; with whom thou shalt be blest, When faithless ones, with all their vain delights, Are crying out under their hellish plights, Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive; For, though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive.
Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth alone, for there was one whose name was Hopeful (being made so by the beholding of Christian and Faithful in their words and behaviour, in their sufferings at the Fair), who joined himself unto him, and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus, one died to bear testimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes, to be a companion with Christian in his pilgrimage. This Hopeful also told Christian, that there were many more of the men in the Fair, that would take their time and follow after.
So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the Fair, they overtook one that was going before them, whose name was By-ends; so they said to him, What countryman, Sir? and how far go you this way? He told them, that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name.
From Fair-speech! said Christian. Is there any good that lives there? (Prov. 26:25).
BY-ENDS. Yes, said By-ends, I hope.
CHR. Pray, Sir, What may I call you? Said Christian.
BY-ENDS. I am a stranger to you, and you to me: if you be going this way, I shall be glad of your company; if not, I must be content.
CHR. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of; and, as I remember, they say it is a wealthy place.
BY-ENDS. Yes, I will assure you that it is; and I have very many rich kindred there.
CHR. Pray, who are your kindred there? if a man may be so bold.
BY-ENDS. Almost the whole town; and in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech (from whose ancestors that town first took its name), also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing; and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's own brother, by father's side; and to tell you the truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my great- grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occupation.
CHR. Are you a married man?
BY-ENDS. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the daughter of a virtuous woman; she was my Lady Feigning's daughter, therefore she came of a very honourable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant. It is true we somewhat differ in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in two small points; first, we never strive against wind and tide; secondly, we are always most zealous when religion goes in his silver slippers; we love much to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines, and the people applaud him.
Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, It runs in my mind that this is one By- ends of Fair-speech; and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our company, as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him; methinks he should not be ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as if you knew something more than all the world doth; and if I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you: Is not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech?
BY-ENDS. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nickname that is given me by some that cannot abide me; and I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me.
CHR. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you by this name?
BY-ENDS. Never, never! The worst that ever I did to give them an occasion to give me this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby; but if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a blessing; but let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach.
CHR. I thought, indeed, that you were the man that I heard of; and to tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are willing we should think it doth.
BY-ENDS. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it; you shall find me a fair company-keeper, if you will still admit me your associate.
CHR. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide; the which, I perceive, is against your opinion; you must also own religion in his rags, as well as when in his silver slippers; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause.
BY-ENDS. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you.
CHR. Not a step further, unless you will do in what I propound, as we.
Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my company.
Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful forsook him, and kept their distance before him; but one of them looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, and behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low conge; and they also gave him a compliment. The men's names were Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-love, and Mr. Save- all; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with; for in their minority they were schoolfellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripeman, a schoolmaster in Love- gain, which is a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion; and these four gentlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such a school themselves.
Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, Who are they upon the road before us? (for Christian and Hopeful were yet within view). BY-ENDS. They are a couple of far countrymen, that, after their mode, are going on pilgrimage.
MONEY-LOVE. Alas! Why did they not stay, that we might have had their good company? for they, and we, and you, Sir, I hope, are all going on a pilgrimage.
BY-ENDS. We are so, indeed; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opinions of others, that let a man be never so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company.
SAVE-ALL. That is had, but we read of some that are righteous overmuch; and such men's rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but themselves. But, I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you differed?
BY-ENDS. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, conclude that it is duty to rush on their journey all weathers; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for hazarding all for God at a clap; and I am for taking all advantages to secure my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men are against them; but I am for religion in what, and so far as the times, and my safety, will bear it. They are for religion when in rags and contempt; but I am for him when he walks in his golden slippers, in the sunshine, and with applause.
MR. HOLD-THE-WORLD. Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends; for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, that, having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents; it is best to make hay when the sun shines; you see how the bee lieth still all winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that religion best, that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us; for who can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the good things of this life, but that He would have us keep them for His sake? Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust. But he must not be such as the men before us, if they be as you have described them.
MR. SAVE-ALL. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more words about it.
MR. MONEY-LOVE. No, there needs no more words about this matter indeed; for he that believes neither Scripture nor reason (and you see we have both on our side), neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety.
MR. BY-ENDS. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage; and for our better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question: Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, &c., should have an advantage lie before him, to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with before; may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest man?
MR. MONEY-LOVE. I see the bottom of your question; and, with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape you an answer. And first to speak to your question as it concerns a minister himself: Suppose a minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has in his eye a greater, more fat, and plump by far; he has also now an opportunity of getting of it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more frequently, and zealously, and, because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of some of his principles; for my part, I see no reason but a man may do this (provided he has a call), aye, and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why-
1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be contradicted), since it is set before him by Providence; so then, he may get it, if he can, making no question for conscience sake.
2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a more zealous preacher, &c., and so makes him a better man; yea, makes him better improve his parts, which is according to the mind of God.
3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people, by dissenting, to serve them, some of his principles, this argueth-(l). That he is of a self-denying temper. (2). Of a sweet and winning deportment. And so (3). More fit for the ministerial function.
4. I conclude then, that a minister that changes a small for a great, should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous; but rather, since he is improved in his parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the opportunity put into his hand to do good.
And now to the second part of the question, which concerns the tradesman you mentioned. Suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the world, but by becoming religious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more, and far better customers to his shop; for my part, I see no reason but that this may be lawfully done. For why-
1. To become religious is a virtue, by what means soever a man becomes so.
2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to my shop.
3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming religious, gets that which is good, of them that are good, by becoming good himself; so then here is a good wife, and good customers, and good gain, and all these by becoming religious, which is good; therefore, to become religious to get all these, is a good and profitable design.
This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money-love to Mr. By- end's question, was highly applauded by them all; wherefore they concluded, upon the whole, that it was most wholesome and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man was able to contradict it, and because Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, they jointly agreed to assault them with the question as soon as they overtook them; and the rather because they had opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they called after them, and they stopped, and stood still till they came up to them; but they concluded, as they went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old Mr. Hold-the-world, should propound the question to them, because, as they supposed, their answer to him would be without the remainder of that heat that was kindled betwixt Mr. By-ends and them, at their parting a little before.
So they came up to each other, and after a short salutation, Mr. Hold-the-world propounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they could.
CHR. then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer 10,000 such questions. For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves (as it is in the sixth of John), how much more abominable is it to make of him and religion a stalking-horse, to get and enjoy the world! Nor do we find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and witches, that are of this opinion.
1. Heathens; for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that there was no ways for them to come at them, but by becoming circumcised; they say to their companions, if every male of us be circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be ours? Their daughter and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their religion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them. Read the whole story (Gen. 34:20-23).
2. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion; long prayers were their pretence; but to get widows' houses was their intent; and greater damnation was from God their judgment (Luke 20:46, 47).
3. Judas the devil was also of this religion; he was religious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was therein; but he was lost, cast away, and the very son of perdition.
4. Simon the witch was of this religion too; for he would have had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was according (Acts 8:19-20).
5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for the world; for so surely as Judas designed the world in becoming religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To answer the question therefore affirmatively, as I perceive you have done; and to accept of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenish, hypocritical, and devilish; and your reward will be according to your works. Then they stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith to answer Christian. Hopeful also approved of the soundness of Christian's answer; so there was a great silence among them. Mr. By-ends and his company also staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might outgo them. Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand before the sentence of men, what will they do with the sentence of God? And if they are mute when dealt with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire?
Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came at a delicate plain, called Ease, where they went with much content; but that plain was but narrow, so they were quickly got over it. Now at the further side of that plain, was a little Hill called Lucre, and in that hill a silver mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see; but going too near the brink of the pit, the ground being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain; some also had been maimed there, and could not, to their dying day, be their own men again.
Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the road, over against the silver mine, stood Demas (gentleman-like) to call to passengers to come and see; who said to Christian and his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, and I will show you a thing.
CHR. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it?
DEMAS. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in it for treasure. If you will come, with a little pains you may richly provide for yourselves.
HOPE. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see.
CHR. Not I, said Christian, I have heard of this place before now; and how many have there been slain; and besides that, treasure is a snare to those that seek it; for it hindereth them in their pilgrimage. Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous? Hath it not hindered many in their pilgrimage? (Hosea 14:8).
DEMAS. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless (but withal, he blushed as he spake).
CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still keep on our way.
HOPE. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see.
CHR. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that way, and a hundred to one but he dies there.
DEMAS. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you not come over and see?
CHR. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy to the right ways of the Lord of this way, and hast been already condemned for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges (2 Tim. 4:10); and why seekest thou to bring us into the like condemnation? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we would stand with boldness before Him. Demas cried again, That he also was one of their fraternity; and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself would walk with them.
CHR. Then said Christian, What is thy name? Is it not the same by the which I have called thee?
DEMAS. Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son of Abraham.
CHR. I know you; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your father; and you have trod in their steps (2 Kings 5:20; Matt. 26:14, 15; 27:1-5). It is but a devilish prank that thou usest; thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward. Assure thyself, that when we come to the King, we will do Him word of this thy behaviour. Thus they went their way.
By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and they, at the first beck, went over to Demas. Now, whether they fell into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not certain; but this I observed, that they never were seen again in the way. Then sang Christian-
By-ends and silver Demas both agree; One calls, the other runs, that he may be A sharer in his lucre; so these do Take up in this world, and no further go.
Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the Pilgrims came to a place where stood an old monument, hard by the highway strange side; at the sight of which they were both concerned, because of the strangeness of the form thereof; for it seemed to them as if it had been a woman transformed into the shape of a pillar; here therefore they stood looking, and looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should make thereof. At last Hopeful espied written above the head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand; but he being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning; so he came, and after a little laying of letters together, he found the same to be this, "Remember Lot's wife." So he read it to his fellow; after which they both concluded that that was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned, for her looking back with a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety (Gen. 19:260); which sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion of this discourse.
CHR. Ah, my brother! this is a seasonable sight; it came opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave us to come over to view the Hill Lucre; and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast inclining to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made ourselves like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to behold.
HOPE. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as Lot's wife; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin and mine? She only looked back; and I had a desire to go see. Let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed, that ever such a thing should be in mine heart.
CHR. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help for time to come. This woman escaped one judgment, for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see she is turned into a pillar of salt.
HOPE. True, and she may be to us both caution and example; caution, that we should shun her sin; or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented by this caution; so Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the 250 men that perished in their sin, did also become a sign or example to others to beware (Num. 26:9, 10). But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking behind her, after (for we read not that she stepped one foot out of the way) was turned into a pillar of salt; especially since the judgment which overtook her did make her an example, within sight of where they are; for they cannot choose but see her, did they but lift up their eyes.
CHR. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts are grown desperate in the case; and I cannot tell who to compare them to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets in the presence of the judge, or that will out purses under the gallows. It is said of the men of Sodom, that they were sinners exceedingly, because they were sinners before the Lord, that is, in His eyesight, and notwithstanding the kindnesses that He had showed them (Gen. 13:13), for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden heretofore (Gen. 13:10). This, therefore, provoked Him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire of the Lord out of Heaven could make it. And it is most rationally to be concluded, that such, even such as these are, that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such examples that are set continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of severest judgments.
HOPE. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made myself this example! This ministereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear before Him, and always to remember Lot's wife.
I saw, then, that they went on their way to a pleasant river; which David the king called "the river of God," but John "the river of the water of life" (Psa. 65:9; Rev. 22; Ezek. 47). Now their way lay just upon the bank of the river; here, therefore, Christian and his companion walked with great delight; they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant, and enlivening to their weary spirits: besides, on the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees, that bore all manner of fruit; and the leaves of the trees were good for medicine; with the fruit of these trees they were also much delighted; and the leaves they eat to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by travels. On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with lilies, and it was green all the year long. In this meadow they lay down, and slept; for here they might lie down safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruit of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep (Psa. 23:2; Isa. 14:30). Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang-
Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the highway side; The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, Yield dainties for them: and he that can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.
So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, as yet, at their journey's end), they ate and drank, and departed.
Now, I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river and the way for a time parted; at which they were not a little sorry; yet they durst not go out of the way. Now the way from the river was rough, and their feet tender, by reason of their travels; "so the souls of the pilgrims were much discouraged because of the way" (Num. 21:4). Wherefore, still as they went on, they wished for better way. Now, a little before them, there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over into it; and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian to his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our way-side, let us go over into it. Then he went to the stile to see, and behold, a path lay along by the way, on the other side of the fence. It is according to my wish, said Christian. Here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go over.
HOPE. But how if this path should lead us out of the way?
CHR. That is not like, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the way-side? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him over the stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the path, they found it very easy for their feet; and withal, they, looking before them, espied a man walking as they did (and his name was Vain- confidence); so they called after him, and asked him whither that way led. He said, to the Celestial Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so? By this you may see we are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But, behold, the night came on, and it grew very dark; so that they that were behind, lost the sight of him that went before.
He, therefore, that went before (Vain-confidence by name), not seeing the way before him, fell into a deep pit (Isa. 9:16), which was on purpose there made, by the Prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his fall.
Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the matter, but there was none to answer; only they heard a groaning. Then said Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten in a very dreadful manner; and the water rose amain.
Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, O that I had kept on my way!
CHR. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of the way?
HOPE. I was afraid on it at the very first, and therefore gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older than I.
CHR. Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out of the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger; pray, my brother, forgive me; I did not do it of an evil intent.
HOPE. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee; and believe too that this shall be for our good.
CHR. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother; but we must not stand thus: let us try to go back again.
HOPE. But, good brother, let me go before.
CHR. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger, I may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the way.
HOPE. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first; for your mind being troubled may lead you out of the way again. Then, for their encouragement, they heard the voice of one saying, "Set thine heart toward the highway, even the way which thou wentest; turn again" (Jer. 31:21). But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which the way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when we are in, than going in when we are out). Yet they adventured to go back, but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going back they had like to have been drowned nine or 10 times.
Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night. Wherefore, at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there until the day-break; but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair; and it was in his grounds they now were sleeping: wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then, with a grim and surly voice, he bid them awake; and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the Giant, You have this night trespassed on me, by trampling in, and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. The Giant therefore drove them before him, and put them into his castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these two men (Psa. 88:18). Here then they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they were therefore here in evil case, and were far from friends and acquaintance. Now in this place Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress.
Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence. So, when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done; to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound; and he told her. Then she counselled him, that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without any mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn under their distress. So all that day they spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, talking with her husband about them further, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner as before, and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of themselves, either with knife, halter, or poison, for why, said he, should you choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he sometimes, in sunshiny weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of his hand; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before, to consider what to do. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it was best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to discourse:
CHR. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life that we now live is miserable. For my part, I know not whether is best, to live thus, or to die out of hand. "My soul chooseth strangling rather than life," and the grave is more easy for me than this dungeon (Job 7:15). Shall we be ruled by the Giant?
HOPE. Indeed, our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far more welcome to me than thus for ever to abide; but yet, let us consider, the Lord of the country to which we are going hath said, Thou shalt do no murder: no, not to another man's person; much more, then, are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills another, can but commit murder upon his body; but for one to kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once. And, moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave; but hast thou forgotten the hell, whither for certain the murderers go? For "no murderer hath eternal life," &c. And let us consider, again, that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as well as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, but that God that made the world may cause that Giant Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in? or that he may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part, I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do it before; but, however, my brother, let us be patient, and endure a while. The time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us not be our own murderers. With these words, Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his brother; so they continued together (in the dark) that day, in their sad and doleful condition.
Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel; but when he came there, he found them alive; and truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born.
At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a swoon; but, coming a little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now Christian again seemed to be for doing it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth-
HOPE. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been heretofore? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through! And art thou now nothing but fear! Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art; also, this Giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth; and with thee I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little more patience; remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain, nor cage, nor yet of bloody death. Wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as we can.
Now, night being come again, and the Giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel. To which he replied, They are sturdy rogues, they choose rather to bear all hardship, than to make away themselves. Then said she, Take them into the castle-yard tomorrow, and show them the bones and skulls of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them.
So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them again, and takes them into the castle-yard, and shows them, as his wife had bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims as you are, once, and they trespassed in my grounds, as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces, and so, within 10 days, I will do you. Go, get you down to your den again; and with that, he beat them all the way thither. They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before. Now, when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband, the Giant, were got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners; and withal the old Giant wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor his counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, Said she, that they live in hope that some will come to relieve them, or that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the Giant; I will, therefore, search them in the morning.
Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.
Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half-amazed, brake out in this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That is good news, good brother; pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.
Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and, with his key, opened that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened too; but that lock went damnable hard, yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed, but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.
Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that should come after, from falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof this sentence-"Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy His holy pilgrims." Many, therefore, that followed after, read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follows-
Out of the way we went, and then we found What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground; And let them that come after have a care, Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare. Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are, Whose castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair.
They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains, which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken before; so they went up to the mountains, to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vineyards. Now there were on the tops of these mountains, shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The Pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves (as is common with weary pilgrims, when they stand to talk with any by the way), they asked, Whose Delectable Mountains are these? And whose be the sheep that feed upon them?
SHEP. These mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are within sight of His city; and the sheep also are His, and He laid down His life for them (John 10:11).
CHR. Is this the way to the Celestial City?
SHEP. You are just in your way.
CHR. How far is it thither? SHEP. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed.
CHR. Is the way safe or dangerous?
SHEP. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; but the transgressors shall fall therein (Hosea 14:9).
CHR. Is there, in this place, any relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way?
SHEP. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be "forgetful to entertain strangers" (Heb. 13:2); therefore the good of the place is before you.
I saw also in my dream, that when the Shepherds perceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, to which they made answer as in other places; as, Whence came you? And, How got you into the way? And, By what means have you so persevered therein? For but few of them that begin to come hither, do show their face on these mountains. But when the Shepherds heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable Mountains.
The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their tents, and made them partake of that which was ready at present. They said, moreover, We would that ye should stay here a while, to be acquainted with us; and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. They then told them that they were content to stay; so they went to their rest that night, because it was very late.
Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the Shepherds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains: so they went forth with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant prospect on every side. Then said the Shepherds one to another, Shall we show these Pilgrims some wonders? So when they had concluded to do it, they had them first to the top of a hill Error, which was very steep on the furthest side, and bid them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all to pieces by a fall that they had from the top. Then said Christian, What meaneth this? The Shepherds answered, Have you not heard of them that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus and Philetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrection of the body? (2 Tim. 2:17, 18). They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are they; and they have continued to this day unburied, as you see, for an example to others to take heed how they clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink of this mountain.
Then I saw that they had them to the top of another mountain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they did, they perceived, as they thought, several men walking up and down among the tombs that were there; and they perceived that the men were blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and because they could not get out from among them. Then said Christian, What means this?
The Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little below these mountains a stile that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way? They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, From that stile there goes a path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, and these, pointing to them among the tombs, came once on pilgrimage as you do now, even till they came to that same stile; and because the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into Doubting Castle: where, after they had been a while kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day, that the saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, "He that wandereth out of the way of understanding, shall remain in the congregation of the dead" (Prov. 21:16). Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the Shepherds.
Then I saw in my dream, that the Shepherds had them to another place, in a bottom, where was a door in the side of a hill, and they opened the door, and bid them look in. They looked in, therefore, and saw that within it was very dark and smoky; they also thought that they heard there a rumbling noise as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and that they smelt the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, What means this? The Shepherds told them, This is a byway to hell, a way that hypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with Esau; such as sell their master, with Judas; such as blaspheme the Gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife. Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive that these had on them, even every one, a show of pilgrimage, as we have now; had they not?
SHEP. Yes, and held it a long time too.
HOPE. How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast away?
SHEP. Some further, and some not so far, as these mountains.
Then said the Pilgrims one to another, We had need to cry to the Strong for strength.
SHEP. Aye, and you will have need to use it, when you have it, too.
By this time the Pilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the Shepherds a desire they should; so they walked together towards the end of the mountains. Then said the Shepherds one to another, Let us here show to the Pilgrims the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill to look through our perspective glass. The Pilgrims then loving accepted the motion; so they had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave them their glass to look.
Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of that last thing that the Shepherds had showed them, made their hands shake; by means of which impediment, they could not look steadily through the glass; yet they thought they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of the place. Then they went away, and sang this song-
Thus, by the Shepherds, secrets are reveal'd, Which from all other men are kept conceal'd Come to the Shepherds, then, if you would see Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.
When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of the way. Another of them bid them beware of the Flatterer. The third bid them take heed that they sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them God speed. So I awoke from my dream.
And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two Pilgrims going down the mountains along the highway towards the city. Now, a little below these mountains, on the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit; from which country there comes into the way in which the Pilgrims walked, a little crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk lad, that came out of that country; and his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked him from what parts he came, and whither he was going.
IGNOR. Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off there, a little on the left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City.
CHR. But how do you think to get in at the gate? for you may find some difficulty there.
IGNOR. As other good people do, said he.
CHR. But what have you to show at that gate, that may cause that the gate should be opened to you?
IGNOR. I know my Lord's will, and I have been a good liver; I pay every man his own; I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my country for whither I am going.
CHR. But thou camest not in at the wicket-gate that is at the head of this way; thou camest in hither through that same crooked lane, and therefore, I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, thou wilt have laid to thy charge that thou art a thief and a robber, instead of getting admittance into the city.
IGNOR. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you not; be content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow the religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And as for the gate that you talk of, all the world knows that that is a great way off of our country. I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it, nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine pleasant green lane, that comes down from our country, the next way into the way.
When Christian saw that the man was "wise in his own conceit," he said to Hopeful, whisperingly, "There is more hope of a fool than of him" (Prov. 26:12). And said, moreover, "When he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to everyone that he is a fool" (Eccl. 10:3). What, shall we talk further with him, or out-go him at present, and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good to him? Then said Hopeful-
Let Ignorance a little while now muse On what is said, and let him not refuse Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain Still ignorant of what's the chiefest gain. God saith, those that no understanding have, Although He made them, them He will not save.
HOPE. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say all to him at once; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he is able to bear it.
So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now when they had passed him a little way, they entered into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying of him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill (Matt. 12:45; Prov. 5:22). Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did Hopeful his companion; yet as the devils led away the man, Christian looked to see if he knew him; and he thought it might be one Turn-away, that dwelt in the town of Apostasy. But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his head like a thief that is found. But being once past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back a paper with this inscription, "Wanton professor, and damnable apostate." Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remembrance, that which was told me of a thing that happened to a good man hereabout. The name of the man was Little-faith, but a good man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere. The thing was this: At the entering in at this passage, there comes down from Broad- way Gate, a lane called Dead Man's Lane; so called because of the murders that are commonly done there; and this Little-faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit down there, and slept. Now there happened, at that time, to come down the lane from Broad-way Gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt (three brothers), and they espying Little-faith, where he was, came galloping up with speed. Now the good man was just awake from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his journey. So they came up all to him, and with threatening language bid him stand. At this, Little-faith looked as white as a cloud, and had neither power to fight nor fly. Then said Faint-heart, Deliver thy purse. But he making no haste to do it (for he was loath to lose his money), Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled out thence a bag of silver. Then he cried out, Thieves! Thieves! With that, Guilt, with a great club that was in his hand, struck Little-faith on the head, and with that blow felled him flat to the ground; where be lay bleeding as one that would bleed to death. All this while the thieves stood by. But, at last, they hearing that some were upon the road, and fearing lest it should be one Great-grace, that dwells in the city of good-confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left this good man to shift for himself. Now, after a while, Little-faith came to himself, and getting up, made shift to scrabble on his way. This was the story.
HOPE. But did they take from him all that ever he had?
CHR. No; the place where his jewels were they never ransacked, so those he kept still. But, as I was told, the good man was much afflicted for his loss, for the thieves got most of his spending-money. That which they got not (as I said) were jewels, also he had a little odd money left, but scarce enough to bring him to his journey's end (1 Peter 4:18); nay, if I were not misinformed, he was forced to beg as be went, to keep himself alive; for his jewels he might not sell. But beg, and do what he could, he went (as we say) with many a hungry belly the most part of the rest of the way.
HOPE. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by which he was to receive his admittance at the Celestial Gate?
CHR. It is a wonder; but they got not that, though they missed it not through any good cunning of his; for he, being dismayed with their coming upon him, had neither power nor skill to hide anything; so it was more by good Providence than by his endeavour, that they missed of that good thing.
HOPE. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that they got not this jewel from him.
CHR. It might have been great comfort to him, had he used it as he should; but they that told me the story said, that he made but little use of it all the rest of the way, and that because of the dismay that he had in the taking away his money; indeed, he forgot it a great part of the rest of his journey; and besides, when at any time it came into his mind, and he began to be comforted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow up all (1 Peter 1:9).
HOPE. Alas! poor man. This could not but be a great grief to him.
CHR. Grief! aye, a grief indeed. Would it not have been so to any of us, had we been used as he, to be robbed, and wounded too, and that in a strange place, as he was? It is a wonder he did not die with grief, poor heart! I was told that he scattered almost all the rest of the way with nothing but doleful and bitter complaints; telling also to all that overtook him, or that he overtook in the way as he went, where he was robbed, and how; who they were that did it, and what he lost; how he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with his life.
HOPE. But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put him upon selling or pawning some of his jewels, that he might have wherewith to relieve himself in his journey.
CHR. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell to this very day; for what should he pawn them, or to whom should he sell them? In all that country where he was robbed, his jewels were not accounted of; nor did he want that relief which could from thence be administered to him. Besides, had his jewels been missing at the gate of the Celestial City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from an inheritance there; and that would have been worse to him than the appearance and villany of 10,000 thieves.
HOPE. Why art thou so tart, my brother? Esau sold his birthright, and that for a mess of pottage, and that birthright was his greatest jewel; and if he, why might not Little-faith do so too? (Heb. 12:16).
CHR. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many besides, and by so doing exclude themselves from the chief blessing, as also that caitiff did; but you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-faith, and also betwixt their estates. Esau's birthright was typical, but Little- faith's jewels were not so; Esau's belly was his god, but Little-faith's belly was not so; Esau's want lay in his fleshly appetite, Little-faith's did not so. Besides, Esau could see no further than to the fulfilling of his lusts; "Behold I am at the point to die (said he), and what profit shall this birthright do me?" (Gen. 25:32). But Little- faith, though it was his lot to have but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from such extravagances, and made to see and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as Esau did his birthright. You read not anywhere that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a little; therefore no marvel if, where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that man where no faith is to resist), if he sells his birthright, and his soul and all, and that to the devil of hell; for it is with such, as it is with the ass, who in her occasions cannot be turned away (Jer. 2:24). When their minds are set upon their lusts, they will have them whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was on things divine; his livelihood was upon things that were spiritual, and from above; therefore, to what end should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels (had there been any that would have bought them) to fill his mind with empty things? Will a man give a penny to fill his belly with hay; or can you persuade the turtle-dove to live upon carrion like the crow? Though faithless ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn, or mortgage, or sell what they have, and themselves outright to boot; yet they that have faith, saving faith, though but a little of it, cannot do so. Here, therefore, my brother, is thy mistake.
HOPE. I acknowledge it; but yet your severe reflection had almost made me angry.
CHR. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the birds that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in untrodden paths, with the shell upon their heads; but pass by that, and consider the matter under debate, and all shall be well betwixt thee and me.
HOPE. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am persuaded in my heart, are but a company of cowards; would they have run else, think you, as they did, at the noise of one that was coming on the road? Why did not Little-faith pluck up a greater heart? He might, methinks, Have stood one brush with them, and have yielded when there had been no remedy.
CHR. That they are cowards, many have said, but few have found it so in the time of trial. As for a great heart, Littlefaith had none; and I perceive by thee, my brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And, verily, since this is the height of thy stomach, now they are at a distance from us, should they appear to thee as they did to him, they might put thee to second thoughts.
But, consider again, they are but journeymen thieves, they serve under the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, will come in to their aid himself, and his voice is as the roaring of a lion (Psa. 7:2; 1 Peter 5:8). I myself have been engaged as this Little-faith was, and I found it a terrible thing. These three villains set upon me, and I beginning, like a Christian, to resist, they gave but a call, and in came their master. I would, as the saying is, have given my life for a penny; but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with armour of proof. Aye, and yet, though I was so harnessed, I found it hard work to quit myself like a man. No man can tell what in that combat attends us, but he that hath been in the battle himself.
HOPE. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one Great-grace was in the way.
CHR. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-grace hath but appeared; and no marvel; for he is the King's Champion. But, I trow, you will put some difference betwixt Little-faith and the King's Champion. All the King's subjects are not His champions, nor can they, when tried, do such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that a little child should handle Goliath as David did? Or that there should be the strength of an ox in a wren? Some are strong, some are weak; some have great faith, some have little. This man was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the wall.
HOPE. I would it had been Great-grace for their sakes.
CHR. If it had been, he might have had his hands full; for I must tell you, that though Great-grace is excellent good at his weapons, and has, and can, so long as be keeps them at sword's point, do well enough with them; yet, if they get within him, even Faint-heart, Mistrust, or the other, it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man is down, you know, what can he do?
Whoso looks well upon Great-grace's face, shall see those scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of what I say. Yea, once I heard that he should say (and that when he was in the combat), "We despaired even of life." How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar? Yea, Heman and Hezekiah, too, though champions in their day, were forced to bestir them, when by these assaulted; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time, would go try what he could do; but though some do say of him that he is the prince of the apostles, they handled him so, that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl.
Besides, their king is at their whistle. He is never out of hearing; and if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help them; and of him it is said, "The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold; the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon: he esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee; sling stones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear" (Job. 12:26-29). What can a man do in this case? It is true, if a man could, at every turn, have Job's horse, and had skill and courage to ride him, he might do notable things; "for his neck is clothed with thunder, he will not be afraid of the grasshopper; the glory of his nostrils is terrible; he paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting" (Job 34:19-25).
But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could do better, when we hear of others that they have been toiled, nor be tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood; for such commonly come by the worst when tried. Witness Peter, of whom I made mention before. He would swagger, aye, he would; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and stand more for his Master than all men; but who so foiled, and run down by these villains, as he?
When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King's highway, two things become us to do:
1. To go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield with us; for it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make him yield; for, indeed, if that be wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had skill hath said, "Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked" (Eph. 6:16).
2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy, yea, that he will go with us Himself. This made David rejoice when in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; and Moses was rather for dying where he stood, than to go one step without his God (Exo. 33:15). O my brother, if He will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten thousands that shall set themselves against us? (Psa. 3:5-8; 27:1-3). But, without Him, the proud helpers "fall under the slain" (Isa. 10:4).
I, for my part, have been in the fray before now; and though, through the goodness of Him that is best, I am, as you see, alive; yet I cannot boast of my manhood: Glad shall I be, if I meet with no more such brunts; though, I fear, we are not got beyond all danger. However, since the lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian-
Poor Little-faith! Hast been among the thieves? Wast robb'd? Remember this, whoso believes, And gets more faith, shall then a victor be Over ten thousand, else scarce over three.
So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then till they came at a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, and seemed withal to lie as straight as the way which they should go; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed straight before them; therefore, here they stood still to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold a man, black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came to them, and asked them why they stood there. They answered, they were going to the Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. Follow me, said the man, it is thither that I am going. So they followed him in the way that but now came into the road, which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the city that they desired to go to, that, in little time, their faces were turned away from it; yet they followed him. But by and by, before they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they were both so entangled, that they knew not what to do; and with that the white robe fell off the black man's back. Then they saw where they were. Wherefore, there they lay crying some time, for they could not get themselves out.
CHR. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see myself in an error. Did not the Shepherds bid us beware of the flatterers? As is the saying of the wise man, so we have found it this day, "A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet" (Prov. 29:5).
HOPE. They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more sure finding thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer. Here David was wiser than we; for, saith he, "Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer" (Psa. 16:4). Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net. At last they espied a Shining One coming towards them, with a whip of small cord in his hand. When he was come to the place where they were, he asked them whence they came, and what they did there. They told him that they were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their way by a black man, clothed in white, who bid us, said they, follow him, for he was going thither too. Then said he with the whip, It is Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed himself into an angel of light (Prov. 29:5; Dan. 11:32; 2 Cor. 11:13, 14). So he rent the net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way again. So he led them back to the way which they had left to follow the Flatterer. Then he asked them, saying, Where did you lie the last night? They said, With the Shepherds, upon the Delectable Mountains. He asked them then, if they had not of those Shepherds a note of direction for the way. They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and read your note? They answered, No. He asked them, Why? They said, they forgot. He asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did not bid them beware of the Flatterer. They answered, Yes, but we did not imagine, said they, that this fine-spoken man had been he (Rom. 16:18).
Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie down; which, when they did, he chastised them sore, to teach them the good way wherein they should walk, (Deut. 25:2); and as he chastised them, he said, "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous, therefore, and repent" (Rev. 3:19; 2 Chron. 6:26, 27). This done, he bid them go on their way, and take good heed to the other directions of the Shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way, singing-
Come hither, you that walk along the way; See how the pilgrims fare that go astray! They catched are in an entangling net, 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget: 'Tis true, they rescued were, but yet you see, They're scourg'd to boot. Let this your caution be.
Now, after a while, they perceived, afar off, one coming softly and alone, all along the highway to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow, Yonder is a man with his back toward Zion, and he is coming to meet us.
HOPE. I see him, let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove a flatterer also. So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last came up unto them. His name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were going.
CHR. We are going to the Mount Zion.
Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter.
CHR. What is the meaning of your laughter?
ATHEIST. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey, and yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains.
CHR. Why, man, do you think we shall not be received?
ATHEIST. Received! There is no such place as you dream of in all this world.
CHR. But there is in the world to come.
ATHEIST. When I was at home in mine own country, I heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this city this 20 years; but find no more of it than I did the first day I set out (Jer. 22:12; Eccl. 10:15).
CHR. We have both heard and believe that there is such a place to be found.
ATHEIST. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to seek; but finding none (and yet I should, had there been such a place to be found, for I have gone to seek it further than you), I am going back again, and will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that which, I now see, is not.
CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful his fellow, Is it true which this man hath said?
HOPE. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers; remember what it hath cost us once already for our hearkening to such kind of fellows. What! no Mount Zion? Did we not see, from the Delectable Mountains, the gate of the city? Also, are we not now to walk by faith? Let us go on, said Hopeful, lest the man with the whip overtake us again (2 Cor. 5:7).
You should have taught me that lesson, which I will round you in the ears withal: "Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge" (Prov. 19:17). I say, my brother, cease to hear him, and let us "believe to the saving of the soul" (Heb. 10:39).
CHR. My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart. As for this man, I know that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth, "and no lie is of the truth" (1 John 2:21).
HOPE. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So they turned away from the man; and he, laughing at them, went his way.
I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came into a certain country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a stranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull and heavy of sleep; wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes; let us lie down here, and take one nap.
CHR. By no means, said the other; lest, sleeping, we never awake more.
HOPE. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to the labouring man; we may be refreshed if we take a nap.
CHR. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground? He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping; "Therefore let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober" (1 Thess. 5:6).
HOPE. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been here alone, I had by sleeping run the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise man saith, "Two are better than one." Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy, and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labour. (Eccl. 4:9). CHR. Now then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse.
HOPE. With all my heart, said the other.
CHR. Where shall we begin?
HOPE. Where God began with us. But do you begin, if you please.
CHR. I will sing you first this song-
When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, And hear how these two pilgrims talk together: Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise, Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb'ring eyes. Saints' fellowship, if it be manag'd well, Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell.
CHR. Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a question. How came you to think at first of so doing as you do now?
HOPE. Do you mean, how came I at first to look after the good of my soul?
CHR. Yes, that is my meaning.
HOPE. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which, I believe now, would have, had I continued in them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction.
CHR. What things were they?
HOPE. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, that tended to destroy the soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering of things that are Divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for his faith and good living in Vanity Fair, that "the end of these things is death" (Rev. 6:21-23). And that for these things' sake, "cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience" (Eph. 5:6).
CHR. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction?
HOPE. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the commission of it; but endeavoured, when my mind at first began to be shaken with the Word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof.
CHR. But what was the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you?
HOPE. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was the work of God upon me. I never thought that by awakenings for sin, God at first begins the conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was loath to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with mine old companions, their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart-affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no not so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart.
CHR. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble?
HOPE. Yes, verily, but it would come into my mind again, and then I should be as bad, nay, worse than I was before.
CHR. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again?
HOPE. Many things; as,
1. If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or,
2. If I have heard any read in the Bible; or,
3. If mine head did begin to ache; or,
4. If I were told that some of my neighbours were sick; or,
5. If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or,
6. If I thought of dying myself; or,
7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others;
8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to judgment.
CHR. And could you at any time, with ease, get off the guilt of sin, when, by any of these ways, it came upon you?
HOPE. No, not I, for then they got faster hold of my conscience; and then, if I did but think of going back to sin (though my mind was turned against it), it would be double torment to me.
CHR. And how did you do then?
HOPE. I thought I must endeavour to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be damned.
CHR. And did you endeavour to mend? HOPE. Yes; and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too; and betook me to religious duties, as prayer, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbours, &c. These things did I, with many others, too much here to relate.
CHR. And did you think yourself well then?
HOPE. Yes, for a while; but, at the last, my trouble came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all my reformations.
CHR. How came that about, since you were now reformed?
HOPE. There were several things brought it upon me, especially such sayings as these: "All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags" (Isa. 64:6). "By the works of the law shall no flesh be justified" (Gal. 2:16). "When ye shall have done all those things, say, We are unprofitable" (Luke 17:10); with many more such like. From whence I began to reason with myself thus: If ALL my righteousnesses are filthy rags; if, by the deeds of the law, NO man can be justified; and if, when we have done ALL, we are yet unprofitable, then it is but a folly to think of Heaven by the law. I further thought thus: If a man runs a hundred pounds into the shopkeeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch; yet, if this old debt stands still in the book uncrossed, for that the shopkeeper may sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the debt. CHR. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself?
HOPE. Why, I thought thus with myself: I have, by my sins, run a great way into God's book, and that my now reforming will not pay off that score; therefore I should think still, under all my present amendments, But how shall I be freed from that damnation that I have brought myself in danger of, by my former transgressions?
CHR. A very good application; but, pray, go on.
HOPE. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with the best of that I do; so that now I am forced to conclude, that notwithstanding my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless.
CHR. And what did you do then?
HOPE. Do! I could not tell what to do, until I brake my mind to Faithful, for he and I were well acquainted. And he told me, that unless I could obtain the righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the righteousness of the world, could save me.
CHR. And did you think he spake true?
HOPE. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied with mine own amendment, I had called him fool for his pains; but now, since I see mine own infirmity, and the sin that cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced to be of his opinion.
CHR. But did you think, when at first he suggested it to you, that there was such a man to be found, of whom it might justly be said, that He never committed sin?
HOPE. I must confess the words at first sounded strangely, but after a little more talk and company with him, I had full conviction about it.
CHR. And did you ask him what man this was, and how you must be justified by Him?
HOPE. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, said he, you must be justified by Him, even by trusting to what He hath done by Himself in the days of His flesh, and suffered when He did hang on the tree. I asked him further, how that man's righteousness could be of that efficacy to justify another before God? And he told me He was the mighty God, and did what He did, and died the death also, not for Himself, but for me; to whom His doings, and the worthiness of them, should be imputed, if I believed on Him (Heb. 10; Rom. 4; Col. 1; 1 Peter 1).
CHR. And what did you do then?
HOPE. I made my objections against my believing, for that I thought He was not willing to save me.
CHR. And what said Faithful to you then?
HOPE. He bid me go to Him and see. Then I said it was presumption; but he said, No, for I was invited to come (Matt. 11:28). Then he gave me a book of Jesus, His inditing, to encourage me the more freely to come; and he said, concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than Heaven and earth (Matt. 24:35). Then I asked him, What I must do when I came; and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal Him to me (Psa. 95:6; Dan. 6:10; Jer. 29:12, 13). Then I asked him further, how I must make my supplication to Him? And he said, Go, and thou shalt find Him upon a mercy-seat, where He sits all the year long, to give pardon and forgiveness to them that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect, God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for I see, that if His righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard that Thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that Thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world; and moreover, that thou art willing to bestow Him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed), Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify Thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through Thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen. (Exo. 25:22; Lev. 16:2; Num. 7:89; Heb. 4:16).
CHR. And did you do as you were bidden?
HOPE. Yes; over, and over, and over.
CHR. And did the Father reveal His Son to you?
HOPE. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, nor fifth; no, nor at the sixth time neither.
CHR. What did you do then?
HOPE. What! why I could not tell what to do.
CHR. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying?
HOPE. Yes, a hundred times twice told.
CHR. And what was the reason you did not?
HOPE. I believed that that was true which had been told me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this Christ, all the world could not save me; and therefore, thought I with myself, if I leave off I die, and I can but die at the throne of grace. And withal, this came into my mind, "Though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry" (Hab. 2:3). So I continued praying until the Father showed me His Son.
CHR. And how was He revealed unto you?
HOPE. I did not see Him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding (Eph. 1:18, 19); and thus it was: One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time in my life, and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down from Heaven upon me, and saying, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved" (Acts 16:31).
But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. And He answered, "My grace is sufficient for thee" (2 Cor. 12:9). Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing? And then I saw from that saying, "He that cometh to Me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on Me shall never thirst"; that believing and coming was all one; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ (John 6:35). Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am, be indeed accepted of Thee, and be saved by Thee? And I heard him say, "And him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out" (John 6:37). Then I said, But how, Lord, must I consider of Thee in my coming to Thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon Thee? Then He said, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners" (1 Tim. 1:15). "He is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth" (Rom. 10:4). "He died for our sins, and rose again for our justification" (Rom. 4:25). "He loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood" (Rev. 1:5). "He is mediator betwixt God and us" (1 Tim. 2:5). "He ever liveth to make intercession for us" (Heb. 7:25). From all which I gathered, that I must look for righteousness in His person, and for satisfaction for my sins by His blood; that what He did in obedience to His Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for Himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ.
CHR. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed; but tell me particularly what effect this had upon your spirit.
HOPE. It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that God the Father, though He be just, can justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance; for there never came thought into my heart before now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus; yea, I thought that had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus.
I saw then in my dream that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth behind.
CHR. Aye, aye, I see him; he careth not for our company.
HOPE. But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto.
CHR. That is true; but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise.
HOPE. That I think he doth; but, however, let us tarry for him. So they did.
Then Christian said to him, Come away, man, why do you stay so behind?
IGNOR. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a great deal than in company, unless I like it the better.
Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell you he cared not for our company? But, however, said he, come up, and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then, directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you? How stands it between God and your soul now?
IGNOR. I hope well; for I am always full of good motions, that come into my mind, to comfort me as I walk (Prov. 28:26).
CHR. What good motions? pray, tell us.
IGNOR. Why, I think of God and Heaven.
CHR. So do the devils and damned souls.
IGNOR. But I think of them, and desire them.
CHR. So do many that are never like to come there. "The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing" (Prov. 13:4).
IGNOR. But I think of them, and leave all for them.
CHR. That I doubt; for leaving all is a hard matter; yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and Heaven?
IGNOR. My heart tells me so.
CHR. The wise man says, "He that trusts his own heart is a fool" (Prov. 28:26).
IGNOR. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good one.
CHR. But how dost thou prove that?
IGNOR. It comforts me in hopes of Heaven.
CHR. That may be through its deceitfulness; for a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing, for which he yet has no ground to hope.
IGNOR. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore my hope is well grounded.
CHR. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together?
IGNOR. My heart tells me so.
CHR. Ask my fellow if I be a thief! Thy heart tells thee so! Except the Word of God beareth witness in this matter, other testimony is of no value.
IGNOR. But is it not a good heart that hath good thoughts? and is not that a good life that is according to God's commandments?
CHR. Yea, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's commandments; but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and another thing only to think so.
IGNOR. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a life according to God's commandments?
CHR. There are good thoughts of divers kinds; some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other thing.
IGNOR. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves?
CHR. Such as agree with the Word of God.
IGNOR. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the Word of God?
CHR. When we pass the same judgment upon ourselves which the Word passes. To explain myself-the Word of God saith of persons in a natural condition, "There is none righteous, there is none that doeth good" (Rom. 3). It saith also, that "every imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually" (Gen. 6:5). And again, "The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth" (Gen. 8:21). Now then, when we think thus of ourselves, having sense thereof then are our thoughts good ones, because according to the Word of God.
IGNOR. I will never believe that my heart is thus bad.
CHR. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought concerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on. As the Word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment upon our ways; and when our thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judgment which the Word giveth of both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto.
IGNOR. Make out your meaning.
CHR. Why, the Word of God saith that man's ways are crooked ways; not good, but perverse (Psa. 125; Prov. 2:15). It saith they are naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it (Rom. 3). Now, when a man thus thinketh of his ways; I say, when he doth sensibly, and with heart humiliation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the Word of God.
IGNOR. What are good thoughts concerning God?
CHR. Even as I have said concerning ourselves, when our thoughts of God do agree with what the Word saith of Him; and that is, when we think of His being and attributes as the Word hath taught, of which I cannot now discourse at large; but to speak of Him with reference to us: Then we have right thoughts of God, when we think that He knows us better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us when and where we can see none in ourselves; when we think He knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always open unto His eyes; also, when we think that all our righteousness stinks in His nostrils, and that, therefore, He cannot abide to see us stand before Him in any confidence, even in all our best performances.
IGNOR. Do you think that I am such a fool as to think God can see no further than I? or, that I would come to God in the best of my performances?
CHR. Why, how dost thou think in this matter?
IGNOR. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for justification.
CHR. How! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy need of Him! Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities; but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of what thou dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before God. How, then, dost thou say, I believe in Christ?
IGNOR. I believe well enough for all that.
CHR. How dost thou believe?
IGNOR. I believe that Christ died for sinners; and that I shall be justified before God from the curse, through His gracious acceptance of my obedience to His law. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to His Father, by virtue of His merits; and so shall I be justified.
CHR. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith.
1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is nowhere described in the Word.
2. Thou believest with a false faith; because it taketh justification from the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.
3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, which is false.
4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under wrath, in the day of God Almighty; for true justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon flying for refuge unto Christ's righteousness, which righteousness of His is not an act of grace, by which He maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted with God; but His personal obedience to the law, in doing and suffering for us what that required at our hands; this righteousness, I say, true faith accepteth; under the skirt of which, the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquit from condemnation.
IGNOR. What! would you have us trust to what Christ, in His own person, has done without us? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list; for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we believe it?
CHR. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou; even this thy answer demonstrateth what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, which is, to bow and win over the heart to God in Christ, to love His name, His Word, ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly imaginest.
HOPE. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from Heaven.
IGNOR. What! you are a man for revelations! I believe that what both you, and all the rest of you, say about that matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains.
HOPE. Why, man! Christ is so hid in God from the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that He cannot by any man be savingly known, unless God the Father reveals Him to them.
IGNOR. That is your faith, but not mine; yet mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, though I have not in my head so many whimsies as you.
CHR. Give me leave to put in a word. You ought not so slightly to speak of this matter; for this I will boldly affirm, even as my good companion hath done, that no man can know Jesus Christ but by the revelation of the Father (Matt. 11:27); yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of His mighty power; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of (1 Cor. 12:3; Eph 1:18, 19). Be awakened then, see thine own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus; and by His righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, for He Himself is God, thou shalt be delivered from condemnation.
IGNOR. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with you. Do you go on before; I must stay a while behind.
Then they said-
Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be, To slight good counsel, ten times given thee? And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know, Ere long, the evil of thy doing so. Remember, man, in time, stoop, do not fear; Good counsel taken well, saves: therefore hear. But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be The loser (Ignorance) I'll warrant thee.
Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow-
CHR. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I must walk by ourselves again.
So I saw in my dream that they went on apace before, and Ignorance he came bobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, It pities me much for this poor man, it will certainly go ill with him at last.
HOPE. Alas! there are abundance in our town in his condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that of pilgrims too; and if there be so many in our parts, how many, think you, must there be in the place where he was born?
CHR. Indeed the Word saith, "He hath blinded their eyes, lest they should see," &c. But now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men? Have they at no time, think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fears that their state is dangerous?
HOPE. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the elder man.
CHR. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may; but they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such convictions tend to their good; and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presumptuously continue to flatter themselves in the way of their own hearts.
HOPE. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much to men's good, and to make them right, at their beginning to go on pilgrimage.
CHR. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right; for so says the Word, "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" (Prov. 1:7; 9:10; Psa. 111:10; Job. 28:28).
HOPE. How will you describe right fear?
CHR. True or right fear is discovered by three things-
1. By its rise; it is caused by saving convictions for sin.
2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salvation.
3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a great reverence of God, his Word, and ways, keeping it tender, and making it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand or to the left, to anything, that may dishonour God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak reproachfully.
HOPE. Well said; I believe you have said the truth. Are we now almost got past the Enchanted Ground?
CHR. Why, art thou weary of this discourse?
HOPE. No, verily, but that I would know where we are.
CHR. We have not now above two miles further to go thereon. But let us return to our matter. Now the ignorant know not that such convictions as tend to put them in fear are for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them.
HOPE. How do they seek to stifle them?
CHR. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil (though indeed they are wrought of God); and, thinking so, they resist them as things that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, when, alas for them, poor men that they are, they have none at all! and therefore they harden their hearts against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear; and therefore, in despite of them, wax presumptuously confident. 4. They see that those fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old self-holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their might.
HOPE. I know something of this myself; for, before I knew myself, it was so with me.
CHR. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbour Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question.
HOPE. With all my heart, but you shall still begin.
CHR. Well then, did you not know, about 10 years ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was a forward man in religion then?
HOPE. Know him! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a town about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next door to one Turnback.
CHR. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, that man was much awakened once; I believe that then he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages that were due thereto.
HOPE. I am of your mind, for, my house not being above three miles from him, he would ofttimes come to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not altogether without hope of him; but one may see, it is not every one that cries, Lord, Lord.
CHR. He told me once that he was resolved to go on pilgrimage, as we do now; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me.
HOPE. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a little inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and such others.
CHR. It may be very profitable, but do you begin.
HOPE. Well then, there are in my judgment four reasons for it-
1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds are not changed; therefore, when the power of guilt weareth away, that which provoked them to be religious ceaseth, wherefore they naturally turn to their own course again, even as we see the dog that is sick of what he has eaten, so long as his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all; not that he doth this of a free mind (if we may say a dog has a mind), but because it troubleth his stomach; but now, when his sickness is over, and so his stomach eased, his desire being not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all, and so it is true which is written, "The dog is turned to his own vomit again" (2 Peter 2:22). Thus I say, being hot for Heaven, by virtue only of the sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of hell, and the fears of damnation, chills and cools, so their desires for Heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, their desires for Heaven and happiness die, and they return to their course again.
2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do overmaster them; I speak now of the fears that they have of men, for "the fear of man bringeth a snare" (Prov. 29:25). So then, though they seem to be hot for Heaven, so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet, when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts; namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or, at least, of bringing themselves into unavoidable and unnecessary troubles, and so they fall in with the world again.
3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in their way; they are proud and haughty, and religion in their eye is low and contemptible; therefore, when they have lost their sense of hell and wrath to come, they return again to their former course.
4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them. They like not to see their misery before they come into it; though perhaps the sight of it first, if they loved that sight, might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe. But because they do, as I hinted before, even shun the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways as will harden them more and more.
CHR. You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of all is, for want of a change in their mind and will. And therefore they are but like the felon that standeth before the judge, he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily, but the bottom of all is the fear of the halter; not that he hath any detestation of the offence, as is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still, whereas, if his mind were changed, he would be otherwise.
HOPE. Now, I have showed you the reasons of their going back, do you show me the manner thereof.
CHR. So I will, willingly.
1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from the remembrance of God, death, and judgment to come.
2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the like.
3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians.
4. After that, they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, reading, godly conference, and the like.
5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of the godly; and that devilishly, that they may have a seeming colour to throw religion (for the sake of some infirmity they have espied in them) behind their backs.
6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal, loose, and wanton men.
7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret; and glad are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do it through their example.
8. After this, they begin to play with little sins openly.
9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves as they are. Thus, being launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish in their own deceivings.
Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the Pilgrims were got over the Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season (Isa. 62:4). Yea, here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land (Song. 2:10-12). In this country the sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair, neither could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within sight of the city they were going to, also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of Heaven. In this land also the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was renewed; yea, here, "As the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them" (Isa. 62:5). Here they had no want of corn and wine; for in this place they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage (v. 8). Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, "Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh! Behold, His reward is with Him!" (v. 11). Here all the inhabitants of the country called them, "The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out," &c. (v. 12).
Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and precious stones, also the street thereof was paved with gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the reflection of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick. Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease. Wherefore, here they lay by it a while, crying out, because of their pangs, "If ye find my Beloved, tell Him that I am sick of love (Song. 5:8).
But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the highway. Now, as they came up to these places, behold, the gardener stood in the way, to whom the Pilgrims said, Whose goodly vineyards and gardens are these? He answered, They are the King's, and are planted here for His own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties (Deut. 23:24). He also showed them there the King's walks, and the arbours, where He delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept.
Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this time than ever they did in all their journey; and being in a muse thereabout, the gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at the matter? It is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go down so sweetly, as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.
So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the city. But, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for "the city was pure gold)," (Rev. 21:18), was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open face behold it, but through an instrument made for that purpose (2 Cor. 3:18). So I saw, that as they went on, there met them two men, in raiment that shone like gold; also their faces shone as the light.
These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came; and they told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and pleasures they had met in the way; and they told them. Then said the men that met them, You have but two difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the city.
Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them; so they told them they would. But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together, until they came in sight of the gate.
Now, I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river, but there was no bridge to go over; the river was very deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims were much stunned: but the men that went with them said, You must go through, or you cannot come at the gate.
The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the gate; to which they answered, Yes; but there hath not any, save two, to wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path, since the foundation of the world, nor shall, until the last trumpet shall sound (1 Cor. 15:51, 52). The Pilgrims then, especially Christian, began to despond in their minds, and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, by which they might escape the river. Then they asked the men if the waters were all of a depth. They said, No; yet they could not help them in that case; for, said they, you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place.
They then addressed themselves to the water; and entering, Christian began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep waters; the billows go over my head, all his waves go over me! Selah.
Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom, and it is good. Then, said Christian, Ah! my friend, "the sorrows of death have compassed me about"; I shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey; and with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember, nor orderly talk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits; for ever and anon he would intimate so much by words. Hopeful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above water; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere awhile, he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us; but Christian would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for; you have been Hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have you, said he to Christian. Ah, brother! said he, surely if I were right He would now arise to help me; but for my sins He hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have quite forgot the text, where it is said of the wicked, "There are no bands in their death; but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men (Psa. 73:4, 5). These troubles and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of His goodness, and live upon Him in your distresses. Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was as in a muse a while. To whom also Hopeful added this word, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole; and with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, O! I see Him again, and He tells me, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee" (Isa. 43:2). Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over. Now, upon the bank of the river, on the other side, they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them; wherefore, being come out of the river, they saluted them, saying, We are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for those that shall be heirs of salvation. Thus they went along towards the gate. Now you must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill, but the Pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the arms; also, they had left their mortal garments behind them in the river, for though they went in with them, they came out without them. They, therefore, went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation upon which the city was framed was higher than the clouds. They, therefore, went up through the regions of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.
The talk they had with the Shining Ones was about the glory of the place; who told them that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible. There, said they, is the "Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect" (Heb. 12:22-24). You are going now, said they, to the paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity (Rev. 2:7; 3:4; 22:5). There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death, "for the former things are passed away." You are now going to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets-men that God hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness (Isa. 57:1, 2; 65:17). The men then asked, What must we do in the holy place? To whom it was answered, You must there receive the comforts of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings for the King by the way (Gal. 6:7). In that place you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy One, for "there you shall see Him as He is" (1 John 3:2). There also you shall serve Him continually with praise, with shouting and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the world, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again, that are gone thither before you; and there you shall with joy receive, even every one that follows into the holy place after you. There also shall you be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of glory. When He shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you shall come with Him; and when He shall sit upon the throne of judgment, you shall sit by Him; yea, and when He shall pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that judgment, because they were His and your enemies (1 Thess. 4:13-17; Jude 14; Dan. 7:9, 10; 1 Cor. 6:2, 3). Also when He shall again return to the city, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet, and be ever with Him.
Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom it was said, by the other two Shining Ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the world, and that have left all for His holy name; and He hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, "Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb" (Rev. 19:9). There came out also at this time to meet them, several of the King's trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, who, with melodious noises, and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow with 10,000 welcomes from the world; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet.
This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left (as it were to guard them through the upper regions), continually sounding as they went, with melodious noise, in notes on high; so that the very sight was to them that could behold it, as if Heaven itself was come down to meet them. Thus, therefore, they walked on together; and as they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother, how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them; and now were these two men, as it were, in Heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view, and they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there, with such company, and that forever and ever. O by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed! And thus they came up to the gate.
Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it in letters of gold, "Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city" (Rev. 22:14).
Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men bid them call at the gate; the which, when they did, some looked from above over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c., to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning; those, therefore, were carried into the King, who, when He had read them, said, Where are the men? To whom it was answered, They are standing without the gate. The King then commanded to open the gate, "That the righteous nation," said He, "which keepeth the truth, may enter in" (Isa. 26:2).
Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There were also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave them to them-the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, "ENTER YE INTO THE JOY OF YOUR LORD." I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying, "BLESSING, AND HONOUR, AND GLORY, AND POWER, BE UNTO HIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THRONE, AND UNTO THE LAMB, FOREVER AND EVER" (Rev. 5:13).
Now just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold, the City shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord" (Rev. 4:8). And after that, they shut up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.
Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side; but he soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that place, one Vain- hope, a ferryman, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came alone; neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the gate, Whence came you? and what would you have? He answered, I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and He has taught in our streets. Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King; so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none? But the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but He would not come down to see him, but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of Heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction! So I awoke, and behold it was a dream.
Now, READER, I have told my dream to thee; See if thou canst interpret it to me, Or to thyself, or neighbour; but take heed Of misinterpreting; for that, instead Of doing good, will but thyself abuse: By misinterpreting, evil ensues.
Take heed also, that thou be not extreme, In playing with the outside of my dream: Nor let my figure or similitude Put thee into a laughter or a feud. Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee, Do thou the substance of my matter see.
Put by the curtains, look within my veil, Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail; There, if thou seekest them, such things to find, As will be helpful to an honest mind.
What of my dross thou findest there, be bold To throw away, but yet preserve the gold; What if my gold be wrapped up in ore?- None throws away the apple for the core. But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but 'twill make me dream again.
THE END OF THE FIRST PART.
 The jail. Mr. Bunyan wrote this precious book in Bedford jail, where he was imprisoned 12 years for preaching the Gospel. His bonds were those of the Gospel; and, like Peter, he could sleep soundly in prison. Blessed be God for even the toleration and religious privileges we now enjoy in consequence of it. Our author, thus prevented from preaching, turned his thoughts to writing; and, during his confinement, composed "The Pilgrim's Progress," and many other useful works. Thus the Lord causes "the wrath of man to praise Him." The servants of Christ, when restrained by wicked laws from publishing the word of life from the pulpit, have become more abundantly useful by their writings-(G. Burder).
 You will observe what honour, from his Pilgrim's first setting out, Bunyan puts upon the Word of God. He would give to no inferior instrumentality, not even to one of God's providences, the business of awakening his Pilgrim to a sense of his danger; but he places him before us reading his book, awakened by the Word. And he makes the first efficacious motive in the mind of this Pilgrim a salutary fear of the terrors of that Word, a sense of the wrath to come, beneath the burden of sin upon his soul-(Cheever, Lect. 6). The alarms of such an awakened soul are very different from the terrors of superstitious ignorance, which, arising from fright or danger, are easily quitted, with the silly mummeries of priestcraft-(Andronicus).
 "What shall I do?" This is his first exclamation. He has not as yet advanced so far as to say, What shall I do to be saved?-(Cheever, Lect. 6).
 Sometimes I have been so loaden with my sins, that I could not tell where to rest, nor what to do; yea, at such times, I thought it would have taken away my senses- (Bunyan's Law and Grace).  See the picture of a true penitent; a deep sense of danger, and solemn concern for his immortal soul, and for his wife and children; clothed with rags; his face turned from his house; studying the Bible with intense interest; a great burden on his back; praying; "the remembrance of his sins is grievous, and the burden of them is intolerable." Reader, have you felt this?-(Dr. Dodd).
 Reader! be persuaded to pause a moment, and ask yourself the question-What is my case? Did I ever feel a deep concern about my soul? Did I ever see my danger as a sinner? Did I ever exclaim, in the agony of my spirit, "What must I do to be saved?" Be assured that real godliness begins in feeling the burden of sin-(G. Border).
 The advice is to fly at once to Christ, and that he will then be told what to do. He is not told to get rid of his burden first, by reforming his life, and then to apply for further instruction to the Saviour-(J. B.).
 When a sinner begins to fly from destruction, carnal relations will strive to prevent him; but the sinner who is in earnest for salvation will be deaf to invitations to go back. The more he is solicited by them, the faster he will fly from them-(Mason).
 The names of these two neighbours are admirably characteristic, not confined to any age or place, but always accompany the young convert to godliness, as the shadow does the substance. Christian is firm, decided, bold, and sanguine. Obstinate is profane, scornful, self- sufficient, and contemns God's Word. Pliable is yielding, and easily induced to engage in things of which he understands neither the nature nor the consequences-(Thomas Scott).
 Objection. If I would run as you would have me, then I must run from all my friends, for none of them are running that way. Answ. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into the bosom of Christ, and of God. And what harm will that do thee? Objec. But if I ran this way, I must run from all my sins. Answ. That's true indeed; yet if thou dost not, thou wilt run into hell-fire. Objec. But I shall be mocked of all my neighbours. Answ. But if thou lose the benefit of Heaven, God will mock at thy calamity. Objec. But, surely, I may begin this, time enough a year or two hence. Answ. Hast thou any lease of thy life? Did ever God tell thee thou shalt live half a year or two months longer? Art thou a wise man to let thy immortal soul hang over hell by a thread of uncertain time, which may soon be cut asunder by death?-(Bunyan's Preface to the Heavenly Footman).
 It is interesting to compare this account of Heaven with that which Bunyan gave in the Preface to his "Sighs from Hell," published 20 years before-"O sinner, sinner, there are better things than hell to be had, and at a cheaper rate by the thousandth part than that. O there is no comparison; there is Heaven, there is God, there is Christ, there is communion with an innumerable company of saints and angels"-(ED).  Here you have another volume of meaning in a single touch of the pencil. Pliable is one of those who is willing, or think they are willing, to have Heaven, but without any sense of sin, or of the labour and self-denial necessary to enter Heaven. But now his heart is momentarily fired with Christian's ravishing descriptions, and as he seems to have nothing to trouble his conscience, and no difficulties to overcome, the pace of an honest, thorough inquirer, the movement of a soul sensible of its distresses and its sins, and desiring comfort only in the way of healing and of holiness, seems much too slow for him. He is for entering Heaven at once, going much faster than poor Christian can keep up with him. Then, said Christian, I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is on my back- (Cheever).  Satan casts the professor into the mire, to the reproach of religion, the shame of their brethren, the derision of the world, and the dishonour of God. He holds our hands while the world buffets us. He puts bears' skins upon us, and then sets the dogs at us. He bedaubeth us with his own foam, and then tempts us to believe that that bedaubing comes from ourselves-(Good News to the Vilest of Men, vol. 1, P. 69).  Guilt is not so much a wind and a tempest, as a load and burden. The devil, and sin, and the curse of the law, and death, are gotten upon the shoulders of this poor man, and are treading of him down, that he may sink into, and be swallowed up of, his miry place (Job 41:30)-(Bunyan's Saints' Know ledge of Christ's Love, vol. 2, p. 6).
 In this Slough of Despond there were good and firm steps, sound promises to stand upon, a causeway, indeed, better than adamant, clear across the treacherous quagmires; but mark you, fear followed Christian so hard, that he fled the nearest way, and fell in, not stopping to look for the steps, or not thinking of them. Now this is often just the operation of fear; it sets the threatenings against the promises, when it ought simply to direct the soul from the threatenings to the promises. It is the object of the threatenings to make the promises shine, and to make the soul lay hold upon them, and that is the purpose and the tendency of a salutary fear of the Divine wrath on account of sin, to make the believer flee directly to the promises, and advance on them to Christ-(Cheever).  Signifying that there is nothing but despondency and despair in the fallen nature of sinful man: the best that we can do, leaves us in the Slough of Despond, as to any hope in ourselves-(Mason).
 That is, the Lord Jesus Christ. We never find good ground, nor safe sounding, nor comfortable walking, till we enter into possession of Christ by faith, and till our feet are set upon Christ, who is the Rock of ages-(Mason).
 And now you may think, perhaps, that Christian having got out of the Slough of Despond, and fairly on his way, it is all well with him; but not so, for now he comes into a peril that is far greater than the last-a peril through which we suppose that every soul that ever goes on pilgrimage passes, and a peril in which multitudes that get safely across the Slough of Despond, perish forever- (Cheever).
 "Some inkling"; some intimation, hint, or slight knowledge: obsolete-(ED).
 There is great beauty in this dialogue, arising from the exact regard to character preserved throughout. Indeed, this forms one of our author's peculiar excellencies; as it is a very difficult attainment, and always manifests a superiority of genius-(Scott).
 Mr. Worldly-wiseman prefers morality to Christ the strait gate. This is the exact reasoning of the flesh. Carnal reason ever opposes spiritual truth. The notion of justification by our own obedience to God's Law ever works in us, contrary to the way of justification by the obedience of Christ. Self-righteousness is as contrary to the faith of Christ as indulging the lusts of the flesh. The former is the white devil of pride, the latter the black devil of rebellion and disobedience. See the awful consequences of listening to the reasonings of the flesh- (Mason).
 And "wotted": and knew. From the Saxon witen, to know; see Imperial Dictionary-(ED).
Beware of taking men by their looks. They may look as gentle as lambs, while the poison of asps is under their tongue; whereby they infect many souls with pernicious errors and pestilent heresies, turning them from Christ and the hope of full justification and eternal life through Him ONLY, to look to, and rely upon, their own works, in whole, or in part, for salvation-(Mason).
 As the belief of the truth lies at the fountain of the hope of eternal life, and is the cause of anyone becoming a pilgrim; so the belief of a lie is the cause of anyone's turning out of the way which leads to glory-(Mason).  See the glory of Gospel grace to sinners. See the amazing love of Christ in dying for sinners. O remember the price, which obtained the pardon of our sins, at nothing less than His most precious blood! Believe His wonderful love. Rejoice in His glorious salvation. Live in the love of Him, in the hatred of your sins, and in humbleness of mind before Him-(Mason).
 Legality is as great an enemy to the cross of Christ as licentiousness; for it keeps the soul from coming to, believing in, and trusting wholly in the blood of Christ for pardon, and the righteousness of Christ for justification! so that it keeps the soul in bondage, and swells the mind with pride, while licentiousness brings a scandal on the cross- (Mason).  The straitness of this gate is not to be understood carnally, but mystically. This gate is wide enough for all the truly sincere lovers of Jesus Christ, but so strait that it will keep all others out. The gate of Eden was wide enough for Adam and his wife to go out at, yet it was too strait for them to go in at. Why? They had sinned; and the cherubim and the flaming sword made it too strait for them. The gates of the temple were six cubits wide, yet they were so strait that none who were unclean might enter them-(Bunyan's Strait Gate, vol. 1, p. 367).
 Here behold the love of Jesus, in freely and heartily receiving every poor sinner who comes unto Him; no matter how vile they have been, nor what sins they have committed, He loves them freely and receives them graciously; for He has nothing but GOOD-WILL to them. Hence, the heavenly host sang at his birth, "Good-will towards men" (Luke 2:14)- (Mason).
 As sinners become more decided in applying to Christ, and assiduous in the means of grace, Satan, if permitted, will be more vehement in his endeavours to discourage them, that, if possible, he may induce them to desist, and so come short of the prize-(Scott). A whole Heaven and eternal life is wrapped up in this little word-"Strive to enter in"; this calls for the mind and heart. Many professors make their striving to stand rather in an outcry of words, than in a hearty labour against the lusts and love of the world. But this kind of striving is but a beating the air, and will come to nothing at last-(Bunyan's Strait Gate, vol. 1, p. 866). Coming souls will have opposition from Satan. He casts his fiery darts at them; wanderings in prayer, enticements to old sins, and even blasphemous thoughts, assail the trembling penitent, when striving to enter into the strait gate, to drive him from "the way and the life"-(ED).
 "No betterment" is an admirable expression of the Christian's humility-he set out in company, but reached the gate alone; still it is not unto me, but unto Thy name be all the glory-(ED).
 "Carnal arguments" is altered to "carnal agreement," in several of Mr. Bunyan's editions: see third to the ninth-(ED).
 Christian, when admitted at the strait gate, is directed in the narrow way; not in the broad fashionable religion. In the broad road, every man may choose a path suited to his inclinations, shift about to avoid difficulties, or accommodate himself to circumstances; and he may be sure of company agreeable to his taste. But Christians must follow one another in the narrow way on the same track, facing enemies, and bearing hardships, without attempting to evade them; nor is any indulgence given to different tastes, habits, or propensities-(Scott).
 With gnat propriety Bunyan places the house of the Interpreter beyond the strait gate; for the knowledge of Divine things, that precedes conversion to God by faith in Christ, is very scanty, compared with the diligent Christian's subsequent attainments-(Scott).
 It would be difficult to find 12 consecutive pages in the English language, that contain such volumes of meaning, in such beautiful and instructive lessons, with such heavenly imagery, in so pure and sweet a style, and with so thrilling an appeal to the best affections of the heart, as these pages descriptive of Christian's sojourning in the house of the Interpreter. This good man of the house, the Interpreter, we are, without doubt, to take as the representative of the Holy Spirit, with His enlightening and sanctifying influences on the heart-(Cheever). The order in which these heavenly lessons are taught, is worthy of our admiration-(ED).
 As in creation, so in conversion, God's command is, "Let there be light"; it comes by the Word; no Bible, no light. God divided the light from the darkness; a blessed mystery to prove the Christian indeed-light in his mind at variance with his native darkness-(Bunyan, on Genesis).
 The FIRST object presented by the Holy Spirit to the mind of a young believer, is the choice of his minister; not to be submissive to human orders, but to choose for himself. The leading features are, that he be grave, devotional, a lover of his Bible, one who rejects error and preaches the truth; uninfluenced by paltry pelf or worldly honours; pleading patiently to win souls; seeking only his Master's approbation; souls, and not money, for his hire; an immortal crown for his reward. With the laws of men and friendship to mislead us, how essential is the guidance of the Holy Spirit in this important choice!-(ED). And whose portrait is Bunyan describing here? We think he had only Mr. Gifford in his eye as a faithful minister of Christ; but Bunyan too had been the pleader with men, and over his own head the crown of gold was shining, and while he wrote these words, you may be sure that his spirit thrilled within him as he said, And I too am a minister of Jesus Christ-(Cheever).
Christian well knew this in his own deep experience; for the burden of sin was on him still, and sorely did he feel it while the Interpreter was making this explanation; and had it not been for his remembrance of the warning of the man at the gate, he would certainly have besought the Interpreter to take off his burden. The law could not take it off; he had tried that; and grace had not yet removed it; so he was forced to be quiet, and to wait patiently. But when the damsel came and sprinkled the floor, and laid the dust, and then the parlour was swept so easily, there were the sweet influences of the Gospel imaged; there was Divine grace distilling as the dew; there was the gentle voice of Christ hushing the storm; there were the corruptions of the heart, which the law had but roused into action, yielding under the power of Christ; and there was the soul made clean, and fit for the King of glory to inhabit. Indeed, this was a most instructive emblem. O that my heart might be thus cleansed, thought Christian, and then I verily believe I could bear my burden with great ease to the end of my pilgrimage; but I have had enough of that fierce sweeper, the Law. The Lord deliver me from his besom!-(Cheever).
 This was a vivid and striking emblem, and one which, in its general meaning, a child could understand. Passion stands for the men of this world, Patience of that which is to come; Passion for those who will have all their good things now, Patience for those who are willing, with self- denial, to wait for something better; Passion for those who are absorbed in temporal trifles, Patience for those whose hearts are fixed upon eternal realities; Passion the things which are seen, and the impatient eagerness with which they are followed, Patience the things which are unseen, and the faith, humility, and deadness to the world exercised in order to enjoy them. It is a good commentary upon Psalm 73- (Cheever).
 This instructive vision springs from the author's painful, but blessed experience. The flame of love in a Christian's heart is like the fire of despair in Satan's spirit-unquenchable. Before Bunyan had been behind the wall, the tempter suggested to him-"You are very hot for mercy, but I will cool you, though I be seven years in chilling your heart, I can do it at last; I will have you cold before long"-(Grace Abounding, No. 110). He is the father of lies. Thus he said to Christian in the fight, "Here will I spill thy soul"; instead of which, Apollyon was put to flight. We cannot fail with such a prop, That bears the earth's huge pillars up. Satan's water can never be so powerful to quench, as Christ's oil and grace are to keep the fire burning. Sinner, believe this, and love, praise, and rejoice in thy Lord. He loves with an everlasting love; He saves with an everlasting salvation; without His perpetual aid, we should perish; Christ is the Alpha and Omega of our safety; but how mysterious is the Saint's perseverance until we have seen the secret supply!- (ED).
 For a man to fight his way through infernal enemies, is in every age a fearful battle; but in addition to this, to enter his name as a nonconformist in Bunyan's time, demanded intrepidity of no ordinary degree; their enemies were the throne, the laws, and the bishops, armed with malignity against these followers of Jesus Christ. But there were noble spirits, "of very stout countenance," that by the sword of the Spirit cut their way through all opposition. Bunyan was one of these worthies-(Ivimey).  Verily thou didst, noble Christian! And who is there that does not know the meaning of it, and what heart so cold as not to be ravished by it! Yea, we should think that this passage alone might set any man out on this pilgrimage, might bring many a careless traveler up to the gate of this glorious palace to say, Set down my name, Sir! How full of instruction is this passage! It set Christian's own heart on fire to run forward on his journey, although the battle was before him-(Cheever).
 All these deeply interesting pictures are intended for every age and every clime. This iron cage of despair has ever shut up its victims. Many have supposed that it had a special reference to one John Child, who, under the fear of persecution, abandoned his profession, and, in frightful desperation, miserably perished by his own hand. See Introduction, page 73; see also the sickness and death of Mr. Badman's brother-(ED).
 Bunyan intended not to represent this man as actually beyond the reach of mercy, but to show the dreadful consequences of departing from God, and of being abandoned of Him to the misery of unbelief and despair-(Cheever).
 "An everlasting caution"-"God help me to watch." The battle with Apollyon, the dread valley, the trying scene at Vanity Fair, the exhilarating victory over By-ends and Demas, dissipated the painful scene of the iron cage; and want of prayerful caution led Christian into the dominion of Despair, and he became for a season the victim shut up in this frightful cage. Reader, may we be ever found "looking unto Jesus," then shall we be kept from Doubting Castle and the iron cage-(ED).
 "In the midst of these heavenly instructions, why in such haste to go? Alas! the burden of sin upon his back pressed him on to seek deliverance-(ED).
 "Rack." Driven violently by the wind-(ED).
 We go about the world in the day time, and are absorbed in earthly schemes; the world is as bright as a rainbow, and it bears for us no marks or predictions of the judgment, or of our sins; and conscience is retired, as it were, within a far inner circle of the soul. But when it comes night, and the pall of sleep is drawn over the senses, then conscience comes out solemnly, and walks about in the silent chambers of the soul, and makes her survey and her comments, and sometimes sits down and sternly reads the record of a life that the waking man would never look into, and the catalogue of crimes that are gathering for the judgment. Imagination walks tremblingly behind her, and they pass through the open gate of the Scriptures into the eternal world-for thither all things in man's being naturally and irresistibly tend-and there, imagination draws the judgment, the soul is presented at the bar of God, and the eye of the Judge is on it, and a hand of fire writes, "Thou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting!" Our dreams sometimes reveal our character, our sins, our destinies, more clearly than our waking thoughts; for by day the energies of our being are turned into artificial channels, by night our thoughts follow the bent that is most natural to them; and as man is both an immortal and a sinful being, the consequences both of his immortality and his sinfulness will sometimes be made to stand out in overpowering light, when the busy pursuits of day are not able to turn the soul from wandering towards eternity-(Cheever). Bunyan profited much by dreams and visions. "Even in my childhood the Lord did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions." That is a striking vision of church fellowship in the Grace Abounding, (Nos. 53-56); and an awful dream is narrated in the Greatness of the Soul-"Once I dreamed that I saw two persons, whom I knew, in hell; and methought I saw a continual dropping from Heaven, as of great drops of fire lighting upon them, to their sore distress" (vol. 1, p. 148)-(ED).
 Our safety consists in a due proportion of hope and fear. When devoid of hope, we resemble a ship without an anchor; when unrestrained by fear, we are like the same vessel under full sail without ballast. True comfort is the effect of watchfulness, diligence, and circumspection. What lessons could possibly have been selected of greater importance or more suited to establish the new convert, than these are which our author has most ingeniously and agreeably inculcated, under the emblem of the Interpreter's curiosities?-(Scott).
 This is an important lesson, that a person may be in Christ and yet have a deep sense of the burden of sin upon the soul-(Cheever). So also Bunyan-"Every height is a difficulty to him that is loaden; with a burden, how shall we attain the Heaven of heavens?"-(Knowledge of Christ's Love).
 This efficacious sight of the cross is thus narrated in Grace Abounding, (No. 115)-"Traveling in the country, and musing on the wickedness and blasphemy of my heart, that scripture came in my mind-"Having made peace through the blood of His cross" (Col. 1:20). I saw that day again and again, that God and my soul were friends by His blood; yea, that the justice of God and my soul could embrace and kiss each other. This was a good day to me; I hope I shall not forget it." He was glad and lightsome, and had a merry heart; he was before inspired with hope, but now he is a happy believer-(ED).
 None but those who have felt such bliss, can imagine the joy with which this heavenly visitation fills the soul. The Father receives the poor penitent with, "Thy sins be forgiven thee." The Son clothes him with a spotless righteousness. "The prodigal when he returned to his father was clothed with rags; but the best robe is brought out, also the gold ring and the shoes; yea, they are put upon him to his rejoicing" (Come and Welcome, vol. 1, p. 265). The Holy Spirit gives him a certificate; thus described by Bunyan in the House of God- "But bring with thee a certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate; Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd; To show also, that here thou would'st be healed By those fair leaves of that most blessed tree By which alone poor sinners healed be: And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways, And would'st in holiness spend all thy days; And here be entertained; or thou wilt find To entertain thee here are none inclined! (Vol. 2, p. 680). Such a certificate, written upon the heart by the Holy Spirit, may be lost for a season, as in the arbour on the hill, but cannot be stolen even by Faith- heart, Mistrust, and Guilt. For the mark in his forehead, see 2 Corinthians 3:2, 3; "not with ink, but with the spirit of the living God, known and read of all men"-(ED).
 He that has come to Christ, has cast his burden upon Him. By faith he hath seen himself released thereof; but he that is but coming, hath it yet, as to sense and feeling, upon his own shoulders-(Come and Welcome, vol. 1, p. 264).
 "Fat"; a vessel in which things are put to be soaked, or to ferment; a vat-(ED).
 No sooner has Christian "received Christ" than he at once preaches to the sleeping sinners the great salvation. He stays not for human calls or ordination, but attempts to awaken them to a sense of their danger, and presently exhorts with authority the formalist and hypocrite. So it was in the personal experience of Bunyan; after which, when his brethren discovered his talent, they invited him to preach openly and constantly. Dare anyone find fault with that conduct, which proved so extensively useful?-(ED).
 The formalist has only the shell of religion; he is hot for forms because it is all that he has to contend for. The hypocrite is for God and Baal too; he can throw stones with both hands. He carries fire in one hand, and water in the other-(Strait Gate, vol. 1, p. 389). These men range from sect to sect, like wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever. They are barren trees; and the axe, whetted by sin and the law, will make deep gashes. Death sends Guilt, his first-born, to bring them to the King of terrors-(Barren Fig-tree).
 "We trow"; we believe or imagine: from the Saxon. See Imperial Dictionary-(ED).
 These men occupied the seat of the scorner; they had always been well dressed. His coat might do for such a ragamuffin as he had been, but they needed no garment but their own righteousness-the forms of their church. The mark, or certificate of the new birth, was an object of scorn to them. Probably they pitied him as a harmless mystic, weak in mind and illiterate. Alas! how soon was their laughter turned into mourning. Fear and calamity overwhelmed them. They trusted in themselves, and there was none to deliver-(ED).
 The Christian can hold no communion with a mere formal professor. The Christian loves to be speaking of the Lord's grace and goodness, of his conflicts and consolations, of the Lord's dealings with his soul, and of the blessed confidence which he is enabled to place in Him-(J. B.).
 Such is the fate of those who keep their sins with their profession, and will not encounter difficulty in cutting them off. "Not all their pretences of seeking after and praying to God will keep them from falling and splitting themselves in sunder"-(A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity). There are heights that build themselves up in us, and exalt themselves to keep the knowledge of God from our hearts. They oppose and contradict our spiritual understanding of God and His Christ. These are the dark mountains at which we should certainly stumble and fall, but for one who can leap and skip over them to our aid- (Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love, vol. 2, p. 8).
 Pleased with the gifts of grace, rather than with the gracious giver, pride secretly creeps in; and we fall first into a sinful self-complacence, and then into indolence and security. This is intended by his falling fast asleep-(Dr. Dodd).
 Sinful sloth deprives the Christian of his comforts. What he intended only for a moment's nap, like a man asleep during sermon-time in church, became a deep sleep, and his roll fell out of his hand; and yet he ran well while there was nothing special to alarm him. Religious privileges should refresh and not puff up-(Cheever).
 But why go back again? That is the next way to hell. Never go over hedge and ditch to hell. They that miss life perish, because they will not let go their sins, or have no saving faith-(Bunyan's Strait Gate, vol. 1, p. 388).
 To go forward is attended with the fear of death, but eternal life is beyond. I must venture. My hill was further: so I slung away, Yet heard a cry Just as I went, "None goes that way And lives." If that be all, said I, After so foul a journey, death is fair And but a chair. - (G. Herbert's Temple-The Pilgrimage)
 He is perplexed for his roll; this is right. If we suffer spiritual loss, and are easy and unconcerned about it, it is a sad sign that we indulge carnal security and vain confidences-(Mason).
 The backslider is attended with fears and doubts such a he felt not before, built on the vileness of his backsliding; more dreadful scriptures look him in the face, with their dreadful physiognomy. His new sins all turn talking devils, threatening devils, roaring devils, within him. Besides, he doubts the truth of his first conversion, and thus adds lead to his heels in returning to God by Christ. He can tell strange stories, and yet such as are very true. No man can tell what is to be seen and felt in the whale's belly but Jonah-(Bunyan's Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. 1, p. 224).
 "Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion; God is known in her palaces for a refuge." Those who enter must joyfully submit to the laws and ordinances of this house-(Andronicus).
 The two lions, civil despotism and ecclesiastical tyranny, terrified many young converts, when desirous of joining a Christian church, here represented by the Beautiful Palace. In the reign of the Tudors they committed sad havoc. In Bunyan's time, they were chained, so that few suffered martyrdom, although many were ruined, imprisoned, and perished in dungeons. When Faithful passed they were asleep. It was a short cessation from persecution. In the Second Part, Great-heart slew Giant Bloody-man, who backed the lions; probably referring to the wretched death of that monster, Judge Jefferies. And in the experience of Mr. Fearing, it is clear that the Hill Difficulty and the lions were intended to represent temporal and bodily troubles, and not spiritual difficulties-"When we came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions; for you must know that his trouble was not about such things as these; his fear was about his acceptance at last"-(ED).
 Christian, after feeling the burden of sin, entering by Christ the gate, taught by the Holy Spirit lessons of high concern in the Bible or House of the Interpreter; after losing his burden by faith in his crucified Saviour, his sins pardoned, clothed with his Lord's righteousness, marked by a godly profession, he becomes fit for church- fellowship; is invited by Bishop Gifford, the porter; and, with the consent of the inmates, he enters the house called Beautiful. Mark, reader, not as essential to salvation; it is by the side of the road, not across it; all that was essential had taken place before. Faithful did not enter. Here is no compulsion either to enter or pay: that would have converted it into the house of arrogance or persecution. It is upon the Hill Difficulty, requiring personal, willing efforts to scramble up; and holy zeal and courage to bear the taunts of the world and the growling frowns of the lions. Here he has new lessons to learn of Discretion, Piety, Prudence, and Charity, to bear with his fellow-members, and they with him; and here he is armed for his journey. Many are the blessed enjoyments of church- fellowship. "Esther was had to the house of the women to be purified, and so came to the king. God also hath appointed that those who come into His royal presence should first go to the house of the women, the church." (See Bunyan's Greatness of the Soul, vol. 1, p. 145). Every soul must be fitted for the royal presence, usually in church fellowship: but these lovely maidens sometimes wait on and instruct those who never enter the house Beautiful; who belong to the church universal, but not to any local body of Christians. John directs his Revelations to the seven churches in Asia; Paul, his epistles to the churches in Galatia, or to the church at Corinth-all distinct bodies of Christians; James to the 12 tribes; and Peter to the strangers, and "to them that have obtained like precious faith," of all churches-(ED).
 The true Christian's inmost feelings will best explain these answers, which no exposition can elucidate to those who are unacquainted with the conflict to which they refer, the golden hours, fleeting and precious, are earnests of the everlasting holy felicity of Heaven-(Scott).  The only true mode of vanquishing carnal thoughts is looking at Christ crucified, or dwelling upon His dying love, the robe of righteousness which clothes his naked soul, his roll or evidence of his interest, and the glory and happiness of Heaven! Happy souls who THUS oppose their corruptions!-(Dr. Dodd).
This was the fact as it regards Bunyan when he was writing the "Pilgrim." He had a wife, two sons, and two daughters. This conversation was first published in the second edition, 1678; and if he referred to his own family, it was to his second wife, a most worthy and heroic woman; but she and some of his children were fellow-pilgrims with him. His eldest son was a preacher 11 years before the Second Part of the "Pilgrim" was published-(ED).
 O soul! consider this deeply. It is the life of a Christian that carries more conviction and persuasion than his words-(Mason).
 Those that religiously name the name of Christ, and do not depart from iniquity, cause the perishing of many. A professor that hath not forsaken his iniquity is like one that comes out of a pest-house to his home, with all his plague-sores running. He hath the breath of a dragon, and poisons the air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friends, and himself. O! the millstone that God will shortly hang about your necks, when you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath- (Bunyan's Holy Life, vol. 2, p. 530).
 How beautiful must that church be where Watchful is the porter; where Discretion admits the members; where Prudence takes the oversight; where Piety conducts the worship; and where Charity endears the members one to another! They partake of the Lord's Supper, a feast of fat things, with wine well refined-(J.B.).
 Ah! theirs was converse such as it behooves Man to maintain, and such as God approves- Christ and His character their only scope, Their subject, and their object, and their hope. O days of Heaven, and nights of equal praise! Serene and peaceful as those heavenly days When souls drawn upwards in communion sweet, Enjoy the stillness of some close retreat, Discourse, as if releas'd and safe at home, Of dangers past, and wonders yet to come- (Cowper).
 When Christiana and her party arrived at this house Beautiful, she requested that they might repose in the same chamber, called Peace, which was granted. The author, in his marginal note, explains the nature of this resting- place by the words, "Christ's bosom is for all pilgrims"- (ED).
 How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft Shot 'thwart the earth! In crown of living fire Up comes the day! As if they, conscious, quaff'd The sunny flood, hill, forest, city, spire, Laugh in the wakening light. Go, vain Desire! The dusky lights have gone; go thou thy way! And pining Discontent, like them expire! Be called my chamber Peace, when ends the day, And let me, with the dawn, like Pilgrim, sing and pray. Great is the Lord our God, And let His praise be great: He makes His churches His abode, His most delightful seat-(Dr. Watts).
 Should you see a man that did not go from door to door, but he must be clad in a coat of mail, and have a helmet of brass upon his head, and for his life-guard not so few as a thousand men to wait on him, would you not say, Surely this man has store of enemies at hand? If Solomon used to have about his bed no less than threescore of the most valiant of Israel, holding swords, and being expert in war, what guard and safeguard doth God's people need, who are, night and day, roared on by the unmerciful fallen angels? Why, they lie in wait for poor Israel in every hole, and he is forever in danger of being either stabbed or destroyed-(Bunyan's Israel's Hope, vol. 1, p. 602).
 Christ himself is the Christian's armoury. When he puts on Christ, he is then completely armed from head to foot. Are his loins girt about with truth? Christ is the truth. Has he on the breastplate of righteousness? Christ is our righteousness. Are his feet shod with the Gospel of peace? Christ is our peace. Does he take the shield of faith, and helmet of salvation? Christ is that shield, and all our salvation. Does he take the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God? Christ is the Word of God. Thus he puts on the Lord Jesus Christ; by his Spirit fights the fight of faith; and, in spite of men, of devils, and of his own evil heart, lays hold of eternal life. Thus Christ is all in all-(J. B.).
 The church in the wilderness, even her porch, is full of pillars-apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There are hung up also the shields that the old warriors used, and on the walls are painted the brave achievements they have done. There, also, are such encouragements that one would think that none who came thither would ever attempt to go back. Yet some forsake the place-(Bunyan's House of Lebanon).
 The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent those distinct views of the privileges and consolations, attainable in this life, with which believers are sometimes favoured. This is the pre-eminent advantage of Christian communion, and can only be enjoyed at some special seasons, when the Sun of Righteousness shines upon the soul-(Scott).
 Thus it is, after a pilgrim has been favoured with any special and peculiar blessings, there is danger of his being puffed up by them, and exalted on account of them; so was even holy Paul; therefore, the messenger of Satan was permitted to buffet him (2 Cor. 3:7)-(Mason). We are not told here what these slips were; but when Christian narrates the battle to Hopeful, he lets us into the secret- "These three villains," Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, "set upon me, and I beginning, like a Christian, to resist, they gave but a call, and in came their master. I would, as the saying is, have given my life for a penny, but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with armour of proof." In the Second Part, Great-heart attributed the sore combat with Apollyon to have arisen from "the fruit of those slips that he got in going down the hill." Great enjoyments need the most prayerful watchfulness in going down from them, lest those three villains cause us to slip. Christian's heavenly enjoyment in the communion of saints was followed by his humbling adventures in the valley-a needful proof of Divine love to his soul. "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth"-(ED). "A broken heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise." Has He given it to thee, my reader? Then He has given thee a cabinet to hold His grace in. True, it is painful now, it is sorrowful, it bleeds, it sighs, it sobs, well, very well; all this is because He has a mind that thou mayest rejoice in Heaven-(Bunyan's Acceptable Sacrifice).
 "No armour for his back"; to desist is inevitable ruin. He sees no safety except in facing his enemy. Fear itself creates additional courage, and induces him to stand his ground-(Drayton).
 The description of Apollyon is terrible. This dreadful imagery is collected from various parts of Scripture, where the attributes of the most terrible animals are given him; the attributes of leviathan, the dragon, the lion, and the bear; to denote his strength, his pride, his rage, his courage, and his cruelty-(Andronicus).
 In our days, when emigration is so encouraged by the state, it may be difficult for some youthful readers to understand this argument of Apollyon's. In Bunyan's time, every subject was deemed to be Crown property, and no one dared depart the realm without a license. Thus, when Cromwell and his heroes had hired ships, and were ready to start for America, Charles II providentially detained them, to work out the great Revolution-(ED).
 Promises or vows, whether made by us or by others on our behalf, before we possessed powers of reason or reflection, cannot be binding. The confirmation or rejection of all vows made by or for us in our nonage, should, on arriving at years of discretion, be our deliberate choice, for we must recollect that no personal dedication can be acceptable to God unless it is the result of solemn inquiry-(ED).
 Mark the subtlety of this gradation in temptation. The profits of the world and pleasures of sin are held out as allurements. The apostasy of others suggested. The difficulties, dangers, and sufferings of the Lord's people, are contrasted with the prosperity of sinners. The recollections of our sins and backslidings, under a profession of religion. The supposition that all our profession is founded in pride and vain-glory. All backed by our own consciences; as if Apollyon straddled quite across the way, and stopped us from going on-(Andronicus).
 This dialogue is given, in different words, in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, Volume 1, pages 79, 80. Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. What, my true servant, quoth he, my old servant, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost thou think to find mercy now? Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now? Dost thou think that Christ will foul His fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at Heaven's gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it? Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply? saith the tempted. Why, I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how? No, saith he, I said, I am Magdalene, I am Zaccheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ's murderers- yea, worse than any of these; and yet God was so far off from rejecting of me, as I found afterwards, that there was music and dancing in His house for me, and for joy that I was come home unto Him. When Satan charged Luther with a long list of crimes, he replied, This is all true; but write another line at the bottom, "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin"-(ED).
 The devil is that great and dogged leviathan, that "spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire" (Job 40:30). For be the spreading nature of our corruptions never so broad, he will find sharp pointed things enough to stick in the mire of them for our affliction; they are called fiery darts, and he has abundance of them with which he can and will sorely prick and wound our spirits-(Bunyan on Christ's Love, vol. 2, p. 65).
 When infidel thoughts prevail, so that doubts of the truth of Scripture take hold of the mind, the sword of the Spirit flies out of the hand. Unarmed before a ferocious enemy, it was an awful moment; but God revives his faith in the Divine Word, he recovers his sword, and gives his enemy a deadly plunge-I shall rise-(Drayton).
 "For a season," is only found in the first edition. These words may have been omitted, in Bunyan's subsequent editions, by a typographical error, or have been struck out by him. My impression is, that they were left out by the printer in error; because, in the Second Part, when the pilgrims pass the spot and talk of the battle, we are told that "when Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next valley." And there poor Christian was awfully beset with him again-(ED).
 You will find, from the perusal of Bunyan's own spiritual life, that he has here brought together, in the assault of Apollyon upon Christian, many of the most grievous temptations with which his own soul was beset, as also, in Christian's answers against them, the very method of defence which he himself was taught by Divine grace in the midst of the conflict. It is here condensed into a narrow and vivid scene, but it extended over years of Bunyan's life; and the wisdom that is in it, and the points of experience illustrated, were the fruit of many months of painfulness, danger, and desperate struggle with the adversary, which he had to go through-(Cheever).
 The literal history of this terrific conflict may be found in Bunyan's experience recorded in Grace Abounding, (Nos. 131-173), when he recovered his sword, and put his enemy to flight. He describes his agonies in the combat as if he were being racked upon the wheel, and states that it lasted for about a year. Floods of blasphemies were poured in upon him, but he was saved from utter despair, because they were loathsome to him. Dr. Cheever eloquently says, "What made the fight a thousand times worse for poor Christian was, that many of these hellish darts were tipped, by Apollyon's malignant ingenuity, with sentences from Scripture"; so that Christian thought the Bible was against him. One of these fiery darts penetrated his soul with the awful words, "no place for repentance"; and another with, "hath never forgiveness." The recovery of his sword was by a heavenly suggestion that He BEGIN did not "refuse him that speaketh"; new vigour was communicated. "When I fall, I SHALL arise," was a home-thrust at Satan; who left him, richly to enjoy the consolations of the Gospel after this dreadful battle-(ED).
 By "leaves" here (Rev. 22: 2), we are to understand the blessed and precious promises, consolations, and encouragements, that, by virtue of Christ, we find everywhere growing on the new covenant, which will be handed freely to the wounded conscience that is tossed on the reckless waves of doubt and unbelief. Christ's leaves are better than Adam's aprons. He sent His Word, and healed them-(Bunyan's Holy City).
 However terrible these conflicts are, they are what every Christian pilgrim has to encounter that is determined to win Heaven. Sin and death, reprobates and demons, are against him. The Almighty, all good angels and men, are for him. Eternal life is the reward. Be not discouraged, young Christian! "If God be for us, who can be against us?" We shall come off more than conquerors, through him that hath loved us. Equal to our day so shall be our strength. The enemies had a special check from our Lord, while Mr. Fearing passed through. "Though death and hell obstruct the way The meanest saint shall win the day"-(ED).
 "Desired Heaven," in some of Bunyan's editions-(ED).
 The ditch on the right hand is error in principle, into which the blind, as to spiritual truth, fall. The ditch on the left hand means outward sin and wickedness, which many fall into. Both are alike dangerous to pilgrims: but the Lord "will keep the feet of his saints" (1 Sam. 2:9)-(Mason). Dr. Dodd considers that by the deep ditch is intended "presumptuous hopes," and the no less dangerous quag to be "despairing fears"-(ED).
 The sight of an immortal soul in peril of its eternal interests, beset with enemies, engaged in a desperate conflict, with hell opening her mouth before, and fiends and temptations pressing after, is a sublime and awful spectacle. Man cannot aid him; all his help is in God only- (Cheever).
 And as for the secrets of Satan, such as are suggestions to question the being of God, the truth of His Word, and to be annoyed with devilish blasphemies, none are more acquainted with these than the biggest sinners at their conversion; wherefore thus also they are prepared to be helps in the church to relieve and comfort others- (Jerusalem Sinner Saved, vol. 1, p. 80). See also a very interesting debate upon this subject in Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, volume 1, page 250. O, no one knows the terrors of these days but myself-(Grace Abounding, Nos. 100-102). Satan and his angels trouble his head with their stinking breath. How many strange, hideous, and amazing blasphemies have some, that are coming to Christ, had injected upon their spirits against Him-(Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. 1, p. 209). He brought me up also out of a horrible pit; a pit of noise of devils, and of my heart answering them with distrust and fear-(Saint's Knowledge of Christ's Love).
 The experience of other saints is very encouraging; for the soul finds that others have gone before him in dreadful, dark, and dreary paths-(Mason).
 To walk in darkness, and not be distressed for it, argues stupidity of the soul. To have the light of God's countenance shine upon us, and not to rejoice and be thankful for it, is impossible-(Mason).
 I would not be too confident, but I apprehend that by this second part of the valley we are taught that believers are not most in danger when under the deepest distress; that the snares and devices of the enemy are so many and various, through the several stages of our pilgrimage, as to baffle all description; and that all the emblems of these valleys could not represent the thousandth part of them. Were it not that the Lord guides His people by the light of His Word and Spirit, they never could possibly escape them-(Scott).
 The wicked spirits have made and laid for us snares, pits, holes, and what not, if peradventure by something we may be destroyed. Yea, and we should most certainly be so, were it not for the Rock that is higher than they-(Bunyan's Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love, vol. 2, p. 8).
 Alas, my dear country! I would to God it could not be said to thee, since the departure of paganism and popery, "The blood of the poor innocents is found in thy skirts, not by a secret search, but upon thy kings, princes, priests, and prophets" (Jer. 2:34, 26). Let us draw a veil over the infamy of PROTESTANT PERSECUTION, and bless Jehovah, who has broken the arrow and the bow-(Andronicus). It may be questioned whether popery may not yet so far recover its vigour as to make one more alarming struggle against vital Christianity, before that Man of Sin be finally destroyed. Our author, however, has described no other persecution than what Protestants, in his time, carried on against one another with very great alacrity- (Scott).
 The quaint and pithy point of this passage stamps it as one of Bunyan's most felicitous descriptions. We who live in a later age may, indeed, suspect that he has somewhat antedated the death of Pagan, and the impotence of Pope; but his picture of their cave and its memorials, his delineation of the survivor of this fearful pair, rank among those master-touches which have won such lasting honour for his genius-(Bernard Barton).
 Christian having passed the gloomy whirlwind of temptation to despair, now walks in the light of the Sun of Righteousness, through the second part of the valley. There he encounters the persecution of the state church. Act after act of Parliament had been passed-full of atrocious penalties, imprisonments, transportation, and hanging-to deter poor pilgrims from the way to Zion. "The way was full of snares, traps, gins, nets, pitfalls, and deep holes." Had the darkness of mental anguish been added to these dangers, he must have perished. The butcheries of Jefferies strewed the way with blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of pilgrims. Pope reared his ugly head, and growled out, "More of you must be burned." The desolating tyranny of the church was curbed by the King's turning papist, which paved the way for the glorious Revolution of 1688. It appears from the Grace Abounding, that to the time of Bunyan's imprisonment for preaching the Gospel, he was involved frequently in deeply-distressing spiritual darkness; but, from his entering the prison, be walked in the light of God's countenance to his dying day-(ED).
 We are now to be introduced to a new pilgrim, and Christian is no more to go on his way alone. The sweet Christian communion depicted in this book forms one of the most delightful features in it, and Faithful and Hopeful are both of them portraits that stand out in as firm relief as that of Christian himself. Faithful is the Martyr Pilgrim, who goes in a chariot of fire to Heaven, and leaves Christian alone; Hopeful springs, as it were, out of Faithful's ashes, and supplies his place all along the remainder of the pilgrimage. The communion between these loving Christians, their sympathy and share in each other's distresses, their mutual counsels and encouragements, temptations and dangers, experience and discipline, their united joys and sorrows, and their very passing of the river of death together, form the sweetest of all examples of the true fellowship of saints, united to the same Saviour, made to drink into the same Spirit, baptized with the same sufferings, partakers of the same consolations, crowned with the same crown of life, entering together upon glory everlasting-(Cheever). The author has displayed great skill in introducing a companion to his Pilgrim in this place. Thus far the personal adventures of Christian had been of the most extraordinary kind, and sufficient of themselves to exercise the reader's sympathies for him; but these feelings would have languished from weariness, however intensely the sequel might have been wrought, had attention been claimed for a solitary wanderer to the end of the journey. Here then the history, which had probably reached its climax in the preceding scenes, revives, by taking a new form, and exciting a fresh interest, rather doubled than divided, though two have thenceforward to share it instead of one. Besides, the individual experience of one man, however varied, would not have been sufficient to exemplify all the most useful lessons of the Gospel, unless the trials of many persons, of different age, sex, and disposition, were interwoven. The instance at hand will illustrate this point-(Montgomery).
 Ah, what a smile was that! How much sin was there in it, instead of humble spiritual gratitude, and joy. Now see how he that exalteth himself shall be abased, and how surely, along with spiritual pride, comes carelessness, false security, and a grievous fall-(Cheever). The very person's hand we need to help us, whom we thought we had exceeded-(Mason). When a consciousness of superiority to other Christians leads to vain glory, a fall will be the consequence; but while it excites compassion, it also cements Christian friendship-(Ivimey).
 Mr. Anything became a brisk man in the broil; but both sides were against him, because he was true to none. He had, for his malapertness, one of his legs broken, and he that did it wished it had been his neck-(Holy War).
 "I trow," I believe or imagine (Imp. Dict.)-(ED).
 If the experience of Christian is an exhibition of Bunyan's own feelings, the temptations of Madam Wanton are very properly laid in the way of Faithful, and not of Christian. She would have had no chance with the man who admired the wisdom of God in making him shy of women, who rarely carried it pleasantly towards a woman, and who abhorred the common salutation of women-(Grace Abounding, No. 316)-ED.
 "All" is omitted from every edition by Bunyan, except the first; probably a typographical error.
 An awful slavery! "None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life" (Prov. 2:19)- (ED).
 That sinner who never had a threatening fiery visit from Moses, is yet asleep in his sins, under the curse and wrath of the law of God-(C.C.V.G.).
 As the law giveth no strength, nor life to keep it, so it accepteth none of them that are under it. Sin and Die, is forever its language. There is no middle way in the law. It hath not ears to hear, nor heart to pity, its penitent ones- (Bunyan on Justification, vol. 1, p. 316).
 The delineation of this character is a masterly grouping together of the arguments used by men of this world against religion, in ridicule and contempt of it. Faithful's account of him, and of his arguments, is a piece of vigorous satire, full of truth and life-(Cheever).
 Nothing can be a stronger proof that we have lost the image of God, than shame concerning the things of God. This shame, joined to the fear of man, is a very powerful enemy to God's truths, Christ's glory, and our soul's comfort. Better at once get out of our pain, by declaring boldly for Christ and His cause, than stand shivering on the brink of profession, ever dreading the loss of our good name and reputation: for Christ says (awful words): "Whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed when He cometh in the glory of His Father" (Mark 8:38). It is one thing to be attacked by shame, and another to be conquered by it-(Mason).
 Christian in a great measure escaped the peculiar temptations that assaulted Faithful, yet he sympathized with him; nor did the latter deem the gloomy experiences of his brother visionary or imaginative, though he had been exempted from them. One man, from a complication of causes, is exposed to temptations of which another is ignorant; and in this case he needs much sympathy, which he seldom meets with; while they, who are severe on him are liable to be baffled in another way, which, for want of coincidence in habit, temperature, and situation, he is equally prone to disregard. Thus Christians are often led reciprocally to censure, suspect, or dislike each other, on those very grounds which would render them useful and encouraging counselors and companions!-(Scott).
 Bunyan, in his Pilgrim's Progress, places the Valley of the Shadow of Death, not where we should expect it, at the end of Christian's pilgrimage, but about the middle of it. Those who have studied the history of Bunyan and his times will hardly wonder at this. It was then safer to commit felony than to become a Dissenter. Indeed, a felon was far surer of a fair trial than any Dissenting minister, after the restoration of Charles II. This Bunyan found. Simply and solely for preaching, he was condemned by Keeling to imprisonment. That was to be followed by banishment if he did not conform, and, in the event of his return from banishment without license from the King, the judge added, "You must stretch by the neck for it; I tell you plainly." Christian endured, in the first portion of this dismal valley, great darkness and distress of mind about his soul's safety for eternity; and, in the latter part of the valley, the dread of an ignominious, and cruel, and sudden execution in the midst of his days-a fear more appalling than the prospect of a natural death. This he was enabled to bear, because he then enjoyed the light, the presence, and the approbation of his God-(ED).
 The character now introduced under a most expressive name, is an admirable portrait, drawn by a masterly hand, from some striking original, but exactly resembling numbers in every age and place, where the truths of the Gospel are generally known. Such men are more conspicuous than humble believers, but their profession will not endure a strict investigation-(Scott). Reader, be careful not to judge harshly, or despise a real believer, who is blessed with fluency of utterance on Divine subjects-(ED).
 As an outward profession, without a holy life, is no evidence of religion, neither are excellent gifts any proof that the persons who possess them are partakers of grace: so it is an awful fact, that some have edified the church by their gifts, who have themselves been destitute of the spirit of life-(Ivimey). I concluded, a little grace, a little love, a little of the true fear of God, is better than all gifts-(Grace Abounding).
 The Pharisee goes on boldly, fears nothing, but trusteth in himself that his state is good; he hath his mouth full of many fine things, whereby he strokes himself over the head, and calls himself one of God's white boys, that, like the Prodigal's brother, never transgressed- (Pharisee and Publican, vol. 2, p. 215).
 Talkative seems to have been introduced on purpose that the author might have a fair opportunity of stating his sentiments concerning the practical nature of evangelical religion, to which numbers in his day were too inattentive; so that this admired allegory has fully established the important distinction between a dead and a living faith, on which the whole controversy depends- (Scott). "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal" (1 Cor. 13:1). Just thus it is with him who has gifts, but wants grace. Shall I be proud, because I am sounding brass? Is it so much to be a fiddle? Hath not the least creature that hath life, more of God in it than these?-(Grace Abounding, No. 297-300). Some professors are pretty busy and ripe, able to hold you in a very large discourse of the glorious Gospel; but, if you ask them concerning heart work, and its sweet influences and virtues on their souls and consciences, they may answer, I find by preaching that I am turned from my sins in a good measure, and have learned [in tongue] to plead for the Gospel. This is not far enough to prove them under the covenant of grace-(Law and Grace, vol. 1, p. 515).
 Read this, and tremble, ye whose profession lies only on your tongue, but who never knew the love and grace of Christ in your souls. O how do you trifle with the grace of God, with precious Christ, and with the holy Word of truth! O what an awful account have you to give hereafter to a holy, heart-searching God! Ye true pilgrims of Jesus, read this, and give glory to your Lord, for saving you from resting in barren notions, and taking up with talking of truths; and that he has given you to know the truth in its power, to embrace it in your heart, and to live and walk under its constraining, sanctifying influences. Who made you to differ?-(Mason).
 This spiritual application of the law of Moses is found in the narrative of Bunyan's experience in the Grace Abounding, (No. 71): "I was also made, about this time, to see something concerning the beasts that Moses counted clean and unclean. I thought those beasts were types of men: the clean, types of them that were the people of God; but the unclean, types of such as were the children of the wicked one. Now, I read, that the clean beasts chewed the cud; that is, thought I, they show us we must feed upon the Word of God; they also parted the hoof, I thought that signified we must part, if we would be saved with the ways of ungodly men."
 True faith will ever show itself by its fruits; real conversion, by the life and conversation. Be not deceived; God is not to be mocked with the tongue, if the heart is not right towards Him in love and obedience-(Mason).
 This distinction between speaking against sin, and feeling a hatred to it, is so vastly important, that it forms the only infallible test to distinguish between those who are "quickened" by the Spirit of God, and those who "have a name to live and are dead." It is a very awful statement, but, it is to be feared, strictly correct, that ministers may declaim against sin in the pulpit, who yet indulge it in the parlour. There may be much head knowledge, where there is no heart religion-(Ivimey).
 Christian faithfulness detects mere talkatives, and they complain, "in so saying thou condemnest us also"; they will bear no longer, but seek refuge under more comfortable preachers, or in more candid company, and represent those faithful monitors as censorious, peevish, and melancholy men-lying at the catch-(Scott).
 In the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, Bunyan explains his meaning of "lying at the catch" in these solemn words, referring to those who abide in sin, and yet expect to be saved by grace: "Of this sort are they that build up Zion with blood, and Jerusalem with iniquity; that judge for reward, and teach for hire, and divine for money, and lean upon the Lord (Micah 3:10, 11). This is doing things with a high hand against the Lord our God, and a taking Him, as it were, at the catch! This is, as we say among men, to seek to put a trick upon God, as if He had not sufficiently fortified his proposals of grace by his Holy Word, against all such kind of fools as these"-(Vol. 1, p. 93).
 Blessed faithful dealing! O that it were more practised in the world, and in the church! How then would vain talkers be detected in the one, and driven out of the other-(Mason).
 Heart searching, soul examining, and close questioning of the conduct of life, will not do with talkative professors. Ring a peal on the doctrines of grace, and many will chime in with you; but speak closely how grace operates upon the heart, and influences the life to follow Christ in self-denying obedience, they cannot bear it; they are offended with you, and will turn away from you, and call you legal-(Mason).
 I observe that, as there are trees wholly noble, so there are also their semblance; not right, but ignoble. There is the grape, and the wild grape; the rose, and the canker rose; the apple and the crab. Now, fruit from these wild trees, however it may please children to play with, yet the prudent count it of no value. There are also in the world a generation of professors that bring forth nothing but wild olive berries; saints only before men, devils and vipers at home; saints in word, but sinners in heart and life. Well, saith God, this profession is but a cloak: I will loose the reins of this man, and give him up to his own vile affections. "I will answer him by Myself" (Ezek. 14:7). Thou art too hard for the church: she knows not how to deal with thee. Well, I will deal with that man Myself- (Bunyan's Barren Fig-tree).
 Where the heart is rotten, it will ward off conviction, turn from a faithful reprover, condemn him, and justify itself. Faithful dealing will not do for unfaithful souls. Mind not that, but be faithful to the truth-(Mason).
 How they rejoiced again to meet Evangelist, and listen to his encouraging and animating exhortations; of which, as they were now near the great town of Vanity Fair, they would stand in special need. Indeed, it was to forewarn them of what they were to meet with there, and to exhort them, amidst all persecutions, to quit themselves like men, that Evangelist now came to them. His voice, so solemn and deep, yet so inspiring and animating, sounded like the tones of a trumpet on the eve of battle-(Cheever).
 The pilgrims are now about to enter upon a new era-to leave their privacy in the wilderness, and commence a more public scene-perhaps alluding to Bunyan's being publicly set apart to the work of the ministry. It was in the discharge of these public duties that he was visited with such severe persecution. This interview with Evangelist reminds one of the setting apart of Dissenting ministers. It is usual, on these occasions, for the Christians entering on such important duties, to give a short account of what "had happened in the way," and their reasons for hoping that they were called by God to the work. They receive the advice of their ministering elder, and the pastor prays for their peace and prosperity. Evangelist's address would make a good outline of an ordination sermon. Bunyan's account of his being thus set apart in 1656 (with seven other members of the same church) is narrated in Grace Abounding, Nos. 266-270. The second address of Evangelist peculiarly relates to the miseries endured by Nonconformist ministers in the reign of Charles II-(ED).
 Shall the world venture their soul's ruin for a poor corruptible crown; and shall not we venture the loss of a few trifles for an eternal crown? Shall they venture the loss of eternal life for communion with base, drunken, covetous wretches; and shall we not labour as hard, run as fast, nay, a hundred times more diligently, for such glorious and eternal friends as God to love, Christ to redeem, the Holy Spirit to comfort, and saints and angels in Heaven for company? Shall it be said at the last day, that the wicked made more haste to hell than you to Heaven? O let it not be so, but run with all might and main! They that will have Heaven must run for it, because the devil will follow them. There is never a poor soul that is gone to it, but he is after that soul. And I assure them the devil is nimble; he is light of foot, and can run apace. He hath overtaken many, tripped up their heels, and given them an everlasting fall- (Heavenly Footman).
 Bunyan illustrates the care of Christ for his afflicted ones with striking simplicity. "I love to play the child with children. I have met with a child that had a sore finger, so that it was useless. Then have I said, Shall we cut off this finger, and buy my child a better, a brave golden finger? At this he started, and felt indignation against me. Now, if a child has such tenderness for a useless member, how much more tender is the Son of God to his afflicted members?"-(Saint's Privilege, vol. 1, p. 674). The text here quoted forms the foundation of Bunyan's admirable Advice to Sufferers, in which he delightfully dwells upon the topics which Evangelist addresses to the Pilgrims, when on the verge of bitter persecution-(ED).
 Vanity Fair is the City of Destruction in its gala dress, in its most seductive and sensual allurements. It is this world in miniature, with its various temptations. Hitherto we have observed the pilgrims by themselves, in loneliness, in obscurity, in the hidden life and experience of the people of God. The allegory thus far has been that of the soul, amidst its spiritual enemies, toiling towards Heaven; now there comes a scene more open, tangible, external; the allurements of the world are to be presented, with the manner in which the true pilgrim conducts himself amidst them. It was necessary that Bunyan should show his pilgrimage in its external as well as its secret spiritual conflicts; it was necessary that he should draw the contrast between the pursuits and deportment of the children of this world and the children of light; that he should show how a true pilgrim appears, and is likely to be regarded, who, amidst the world's vanities, lives above the world, is dead to it, and walks through it as a stranger and a pilgrim towards Heaven-(Cheever).
 A just description of this wicked world. How many, though they profess to be pilgrims, have never yet set one foot out of this fair; but live in it all the year round! They "walk according to the course of this world" (Eph. 2:2); for "the god of this world hath blinded their minds" (1 Cor. 4:4). But all those for whose sins Jesus hath died "He delivers from this present evil world" (Gal. 1:4). You cannot be a pilgrim, if you are not delivered from this world and its vanities; for if you love the world, if it has your supreme affections, the love of God is not in you, (1 John 2:15); you have not one grain of precious faith in precious Jesus-(Mason).
 Mr. James, who, in 1815, published the "Pilgrim" in verse, conjectures that Bunyan's description of the Fair arose from his having been at Sturbridge Fair, near Cambridge. It was thus described in 1786-"The shops or booths are built in rows like streets, having each its name; as Garlick Row, Bookseller's Row, Cook Row, &c. Here are all sorts of traders, who sell by wholesale or retail; as goldsmith's toymen, braziers, turners, milliners, haberdashers, hatters, mercers, drapers, pewterers, china warehouses, and in a word, most trades that can be found in London. Here are also taverns, coffee-houses, and eating- houses, in great plenty. The chief diversions are puppets, rope-dancing, and music booths. To this Fair, people from Bedfordshire and the adjoining counties still resort. Similar kinds of fairs are now kept at Frankfort and Leipzig. These mercantile fairs were very injurious to morals; but not to the extent of debauchery and villany, which reign in our present annual fairs, near the metropolis and large cities." See an account of this fair in Hone's Year Book, page 1538-(ED). Our author evidently designed to exhibit in his allegory the grand outlines of the difficulties, temptations, and sufferings, to which believers are exposed in this evil world; which, in a work of this nature, must be related as if they came upon them one after another in regular succession; though in actual experience several may meet together, many may molest the same person again and again, and some harass him in every stage of his journey. We should, therefore, singly consider the instruction conveyed by every allegorical incident, without measuring our experience, or calculating our progress, by comparing them with circumstances which might be reversed or altered with almost endless variety. In general, Vanity Fair represents the wretched state of things in those populous places especially, where true religion is neglected and persecuted; and, indeed, "in the whole world lying in wickedness," as distinguished from the church of "redeemed sinners"-(Scott).
 Christ wiI1 not allow his followers to bury their talent in the earth, or to put their light under a bushel; they are not to go out of the world, or to retire into cloisters, monasteries, or deserts; but they MUST all go through this fair. Thus our Lord endured all the temptations and sufferings of this evil world, without being impeded or entangled by them, or stepping in the least aside to avoid them; and he was exposed to greater enmity and contempt than any of His followers-(Scott).
 The world will seek to keep you out of Heaven with mocks, flouts, taunts, threatenings, jails, gibbets, halters, burnings, and deaths. There ever was enmity between the seed of the serpent and the seed of the woman, and no endeavours can reconcile them. The world says, They will never come over to us; and we again say, By God's grace we will not go over to them.
 Holy Hunt of Hitchin, as he was called, a friend of Bunyan's, passing the market-place where mountebanks were performing, one cried after him, "Look there, Mr. Hunt! Turning his head another way, he replied, "Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity"-(Ivimey).
 An odd reply. What do they mean? That they are neither afraid nor ashamed to own what was the one subject of their souls' pursuit-the truth. Understand hereby, that the whole world, which lieth in wickedness, is deceived by a lie, and is under the delusion of the father of lies. In opposition to this, all believers in Christ are said to be of the truth (1 John 3:19). They know and believe that capital truth with which God spake from Heaven, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:17). This truth-that Jesus is the Son of God, and our only Saviour- lies at the foundation of all their hope; and to get more and more acquainted with Him, is the grand object of their pursuits. For this the world hates them; and Satan, who is an enemy to this truth, stirs up the world against them. "For," says our Lord, "they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world" (John 17:16)-(Mason).
 In 1670, the town porters of Bedford being commanded to assist in a brutal attack upon the Nonconformists, ran away, saying, "They would be hanged, drawn, and quartered, before they would assist in that work"; for which cause the justices committed two of them (which they could take) to the jail. The shops were shut up, so that it seemed like a place visited with the pest, where usually is written upon the door, "Lord, have mercy upon us!"-(Narrative of Proceedings against Nonconformists, p. 5. 4to, 1670).
 This is a true representation of what took place in England in Bunyan's time. It was a disgrace to our nation, that Englishmen, urged on by a fanatic church, treated two young and interesting women with a barbarity that would make savages (so called) blush. It was at Carlisle that two female pilgrims, Dorothy Waugh and Ann Robinson, were dragged through the streets, with each an iron instrument of torture, called a bridle, upon their heads; and were treated with gross indecency-(ED).
 The great object of the Gospel is to fit man for his active duties in this world, and prepare him for heavenly enjoyments in the world to come. Not like those lazy creeping things that shut themselves up in nunneries or monasteries to avoid the temptations and troubles, the resistance or hearing of which glorifies God. Christians are to be as lights-not hid under a bushel but seen of all men. The prayer of their Lord was and is, not that they should be taken out of the world, but kept from its evil contaminations-(ED).
 In Bunyan's account of his imprisonment, he closes it with these words-"Thus have I, in short, declared the manner and occasion of my being in prison; where I lie waiting the good will of God to do with me as He pleaseth; knowing that not one hair of my head can fall to the ground without the will of my Father which is in Heaven. Let the rage and malice of men be ever so great, they can do no more, nor go any further, than God permits them. When they have done their worst, "we know that all things work together for good to them that love God" (Rom. 8:28).
 The description of the process against the pilgrims, is framed in such a manner as emphatically to expose the secret reasons which influence men thus to persecute their innocent neighbours. The very names employed declare the several corrupt principles of the heart from whence this atrocious conduct results-(Scott).
 This is one of Satan's lies, much used by his emissaries, to the present day. A Christian fears God, and honours the king; he renders unto civil government that which belongs to civil and temporal things, but he dares not render unto Caesar the things that belong to God; and for thus righteously doing he is called disloyal-(ED).
 Superstition, or false devotion, is a most bitter enemy to Christ's truth and his followers. This fellow's evidence is very true; for as the lawyer said of Christ's doctrine, "Master, thus saying, thou reproachest us also" (Luke 11:45). So false worshippers, who rest in forms, and rites, and shadows, are stung to the quick at those who worship God in the Spirit, rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh; such a conduct pours the utmost contempt upon all the will-worship, and doctrines, and superstition of carnal men-(Mason). With such, traditions, human inventions, forms, and externals, appear venerable and sacred; and they are mistaken with pertinaceous ignorance for the substance of religion. What is pompous and burdensome appears to such men meritorious; and the excitement of mere natural passions, as at a tragedy, is falsely deemed a needful help to true devotion. Their zeal hardens their hearts, and causes bitter rage, enmity, and calumny, against the pious Christians-(Scott).
 As soon as the poor sinner says, "O Lord our God, other lords beside Thee have had dominion over us: but by Thee only will we make mention of Thy name" (Isa. 26:13), your officious Pickthanks are always ready to bear testimony against him; and a blessed testimony this is; it is well worth living to gain, and dying in the cause of. If we are real disciples of Christ, we shall, as He did, testify of the world that the works thereof are evil, and the world will hate us for His sake (John 7:7)-(Mason). Pickthank has no real principle, but puts on zeal for any party that will promote his interests; he inwardly despises both the superstitious and the spiritual worshipper- (Scott).
 This is the Christian's plea and glory. While he knows "the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel" (Prov. 12:10), yet he also knows that the "merciful kindness of the Lord is great, and the truth of the Lord endureth forever" (Psa. 118:2)-(Mason).
 A more just and keen satirical description of such legal iniquities can scarcely be imagined, than that contained in this passage. The statutes and precedents adduced, with a humourous reference to the style in which charges are commonly given to juries, show what patterns persecutors choose to copy, and whose kingdom they labour to uphold. Nor can any impartial man deny that the inference is fair, which our author meant the reader to deduce, namely, that nominal Protestants, enacting laws requiring conformity to their own creeds and forms, and inflicting punishments on such as peaceably dissent from them, are actually involved in the guilt of these heathen persecutors- (Scott).
 These words, and this trial, were quoted (January 25, 1848) by the Attorney-General, at Westminster Hall, in answer to the manner in which Dr. Hampden was then charged with heresy by the Puseyites-(ED).
 If the Lord were to leave us in the hands of men, we should still find that their tender mercies are cruel. Such a jury as tried Faithful might be found in every county of Britain-(Burder). To this may be added, that the witnesses are still living-(ED).
 Nothing can be more masterly than the satire contained in this trial. The judge, the witnesses, and the jury, are portraits sketched to the life, and finished, every one of them, in quick, concise, and graphic touches; the ready testimony of Envy is especially characteristic. Rather than anything should be wanting that might be necessary to despatch the prisoner, he would enlarge his testimony against him to any requisite degree. The language and deportment of the judge are a copy to the life of some of the infamous judges under King Charles, especially Jefferies. You may find, in the trial of the noble patriot Algernon Sidney, the abusive language of the judge against Faithful almost word for word. The charge to the jury, with the Acts and laws on which the condemnation of the prisoner was founded, wax full of ingenuity and meaning-(Cheever).
 Bunyan gives a good portrait of Faithful in his Howe of Lebanon, referring to the character of Pomporius Algerius, mentioned in Fox's Book of Martyrs. "Was not this man, think you, a giant? did he not behave himself valiantly? was not his mind elevated a thousand degrees beyond sense, carnal reason, fleshly love, and the desires of embracing temporal things? This man had got that by the end that pleased Him; neither could all the flatteries, promises, threats, reproaches, make him once listen to, or inquire after, what the world, or the glory of it could afford. His mind was captivated with delights invisible. He coveted to show his love to his Lord, by laying down his life for His sake. He longed to be where there shall be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing, nor tears, nor troubles. He was a man of a thousand!" Speaking of the pillars in that house at Lebanon, he says, "These men had the faces of lions, they have triumphed in the flames."
 This is a most exquisitely beautiful sketch; it is drawn to the life from many an era of pilgrimage in this world; there are in it the materials of glory, that constituted spirits of such noble greatness as are catalogued in the eleventh of Hebrews-traits of cruel mockings and scourgings, bonds and imprisonments-(Cheever).
 Political interests engage ungodly princes to promote toleration, and chain up the demon of persecution. The cruelties they exercise disgust the people, and they are disheartened by the ill success of their efforts to extirpate the hated sect-(Scott).
 I have often recorded it with thankfulness, that though in the dreary day of my pilgrimage, the Lord hath taken away a dear and faithful Christian friend, yet he has always raised up another. A very great blessing this, for which Christians can never be thankful enough-(Mason).
 Is not this too much the case with professors of this day? The Spirit of truth says, "All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" (2 Tim. 3:12). But how many act as if they had found the art of making the Spirit of truth a liar! for they can so trim and shape their conduct, as they vainly think to follow Christ, and yet to keep in with the world, which is at enmity against Him-a most fatal and soul-deceiving error-(Mason).
 What is this something that By-ends knew more than all the world? How to unite Heaven and hell-how to serve God and Mammon-how to be a Christian and a hypocrite at the same time. O the depth of the depravity of the human heart; alas! how many similar characters now exist, with two tongues in one mouth, looking one way and rowing another- (ED).
 Fear not, therefore, in her for to abide, She keeps her ground, come weather, wind, or tide. -(Bunyan's House of God, vol. 2, p. 579). If we will follow Christ, He tells us that we must take up our cross. The wind sets always on my face; and the foaming rage of the sea of this world, and the proud and lofty waves thereof do continually beat upon the sides of the bark, or ship, that myself, my cause, and my followers are in-(Bunyan's Greatness of the Soul, vol. 1, p. 107).
 Mind how warily these pilgrims acted to this deceitful professor. They did not too rashly take up an ill opinion against him; but when they had full proof of what he was, they did not hesitate one moment, but dealt faithfully with him, and conscientiously withdrew from him- (Mason). In a letter written in 1661, from Exeter jail, by Mr. Abraham Chear, a Baptist minister of Plymouth, who suffered greatly for nonconformity, and at length died in a state of banishment, there is this remark, "We have many brought in here daily, who go out again almost as soon, for a week in a prison tries a professor more than a month in a church"-(Ivimey).
 It might have been supposed that the persons here introduced were settled inhabitants of the town of Vanity, or the City of Destruction; but, indeed, they professed themselves pilgrims, and desired, during the "sunshine," to associate with pilgrims, provided they would allow them to hold the world, love money, and save all, whatever became of faith and holiness, of honesty, piety, truth, and charity?-(Scott).
 Pretended friends come with such expostulations as these: Why, dear Sir, will you give such offence? How much would it be for your comfort and interest in the world if you would but be a little more complying, and give way in some particular points and phrases. O what a syren's song! May the Lord enable every faithful servant to reply, "Get thee behind me, Satan"-(J. B.).
 These words of Solomon are thus wickedly misapplied by many to the present day. Ecclesiastes 7:16, 17 probably refers to the administration of justice which should be tempered with mercy, but not with laxity; or it may refer to the foolish opinions expressed upon the characters of Pharisee and publican, exalting the one or decrying the other overmuch. It cannot be meant to censure the utmost efforts after true righteousness, nor to sanction the slightest degree of wickedness-(ED).
Woe unto them who wander from the way. Art bound for hell, against all wind and weather? Or art thou one agoing backward thither? Or dost thou wink, because thou would'st not see? Or dost thou sideling go, and would'st not be Suspected Yet these prophets can thee tell, Which way thou art agoing down to hell. -(Acts 7:20-22. Bunyan's House of God, vol. 2, p. 582).
 Notwithstanding By-ends could be reserved with faithful pilgrims, yet he can speak out boldly to those of his own spirit sad character. O the treacherous deceivings of the desperate wickedness of the human heart! Who can know it? No one but the heart-searching God-(Mason).
 Some men's hearts are narrow upwards, and wide downwards: narrow as for God, but wide for the world. They gape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other. The heart of a wicked man is widest downward; but it is not so with the righteous man. His desires, like the temple Ezekiel saw in the vision, are still widest upwards, and spread towards Heaven. A full purse, with a lean soul, is a great curse. Many, while lean in their estates, had fat souls; but the fattening of their estates has made their souls as lean as a rake as to good-(Bunyan's Righteous Man's Desires, vol. 1, p. 745).
 This dialogue is not in the least more absurd and selfish than the discourse of many who now attend on the preaching of the Gospel. If worldly lucre be the honey, they imitate the bee, and only attend to religion when they can gain by it; they determine to keep what they have at any rate, and to get more, if it can be done without open scandal-(Scott).
 There is a fund of satirical humour in the supposed case here very gravely stated; and if the author, in his accurate observations on mankind, selected his example from among the mercenaries that are the scandal of the Established Church, her most faithful friends will not greatly resent this conduct of a dissenter-(Scott). Dr. Paley would have done well to have read this chapter in Bunyan before composing some of the chapters in his Moral Philosophy, and his Sermon on the Utility of Distinctions in the Ministry-(Cheever).
 Here is worldly wisdom, infernal logic, and the sophistry of Satan. We hear this language daily, from money-loving professors, who are destitute of the power of faith. But in opposition to all this, the Holy Ghost testifies, "The love of money is the root of all evil" (1 Tim. 6:10), and a covetous man is an idolater (Col. 3:5). Hear this, and tremble, ye avaricious professors. Remember, ye followers of the Lamb, ye are called to "let your conversation be without covetousness" (Heb, 13:5); your Lord testifies, "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon" (Luke 16:13)- (Mason).
 How doth this commend itself to those who make merchandise of souls. What swarms of such locusts are there in this day!-(J.B.).
 If thou art one who tradeth in both ways: God's now, the devil's then; or if delays Thou mak'st of coming to thy God for life; Or if thy light and lusts are at a strife About who should be master of thy soul, And lovest one, the other dost control; These prophets tell thee can which way thou bendest, On which thou frown'st, to which a hand thou lendest. -(Titus 1:16. See vol. 2, p. 582).
 Bunyan, in his Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity, thus addresses such characters: "This is the man that hath the breath of a dragon; he poisons the air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friend, and himself-he that offends God's little ones. O the millstone that God will shortly hang about your neck, when the time is come that you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath!-(See vol. 2, p. 539). The answer of Christian, though somewhat rough, is so conclusive as to fortify every honest mind against all the arguments which the whole tribe of time-serving professors ever did, or ever can adduce, in support of their ingenious schemes and insidious efforts to reconcile religion with covetousness and the love of the world, or to render it subservient to their secular interests-(Scott).
 Here see the blessedness of being mighty in the Scripture, and the need of that exhortation, "Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly" (Col. 3:16). For the Word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword; it pierces through all the subtle devices of Satan, and the cunning craftiness of carnal professors; and divideth asunder the carnal reasonings of the flesh, and the spiritual wisdom which cometh from above. Teach me, my God and King, In all things THEE to see, And what I do in any thing To do it as for THEE-(Mason).
 The Hill Lucre stands somewhat out of the way, but temptingly near. They that will profit by the mine must turn aside for it (Prov. 28:20, 22). Sir J. Mandeville, in his Travels, says, that in the Vale Perilous is plenty of gold and silver, and many Christian men go in for the treasure, but few come out again, for this are strangled of the devil. But good Christian men, that are stable in the faith, enter without peril-(ED).
 Eve expected some sweet and pleasant sight, that would tickle and delight her deluded fancy; but, behold sin, and the wrath of God, appear to the shaking of her heart; and thus, even to this day, doth the devil delude the world. His temptations are gilded with sweet and fine pretences, that men shall be wiser, richer, more in favour, live merrier, fare better, or something; and by such like things the fools are easily allured. But when their eyes are opened, instead of seeing what the devil falsely told them, they see themselves involved in wrath-(Bunyan on Genesis, vol. 2. p. 431).
 Here you see the end of double-minded men, who vainly attempt to temper the love of money with the love of Christ. They go on with their art for a season, but the end makes it manifest what they were. Take David's advice, "Fret not thyself because of evil-doers" (Psa. 37:1) "Be not thou afraid when one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased" (Psa. 49:16). But go thou into the sanctuary of thy God, read His Word, and understand the end of these men-(Mason). Often, as the motley reflexes of my experience move in long processions of manifold groups before me, the distinguished and world-honoured company of Christian mammonists appear to the eye of my imagination as a drove of camels heavily laden, yet all at full speed; and each in the confident expectation of passing through the eye of the needle, without stop or halt, both beasts and baggage-(Coleridge).
 I have sometimes wondered at Lot. His wife looked behind her, and died immediately; but he would not so much as look behind him to see her. We do not read that he did so much as once look where she was, or what was become of her. His heart was set upon his journey; and well it might. There were the mountains before him, and the fire and brimstone behind him. His life lay at stake; and had he looked behind him he had lost it. Do thou so run, and "remember Lot's wife"-(Bunyan's Heavenly Footman).
 In former times, the purse was carried hanging to a girdle round the waist, and great dexterity was requisite to cut and carry it away without the knowledge of the owner. Public executions for theft had so little effect in repressing crime, that thefts were committed in sight of, or even under the gallows-(ED).
 Alas! poor pilgrims, like Peter, you soon forgot the judgment, although your sight of Lot's wife had so affected your spirits. How soon yon went into By-path Meadow! "wherefore, let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall" (1 Cor. 10:12)-(ED).
 By this river, which is called "a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Rev. 22:1), we may understand clear and comfortable views of God's everlasting love and electing grace. They could see in it God's glory shining in the face of Jesus Christ, and view their own faces in it, to their inexpressible joy. This is the river "the streams whereof make glad the city of God" (Psa. 46:4). The stream which flow from this river of electing love, are vocation to Christ, justification by Christ, sanctification in Christ, perseverance through Christ, glorification with Christ, and all joy and peace in believing on Christ. All this these pilgrims now enjoyed, and all this every fellow- citizen of the saints is called to enjoy in his pilgrimage to Zion. God hath chosen us in Christ, and blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Him. O how happy, peaceful, and joyful are pilgrims, when the Spirit takes of the things of Christ, shows them to us, and blesses us with a sense of interest in all the love of God, and finished salvation of Jesus!-(Mason).
 Blessed state indeed, but of short duration! Too often these desirable consolations of the Spirit render the Christian careless and unwatchful-(Burder).
 A scene to soothe and calm a mind fretted and harassed with the cares and turmoils of this every-day world; a sunny vista into the future, welcome in a weary hour to the worn spirit, which longs, as for the wings of the dove, that it may flee away, and be at rest; a glimpse of Sabbath quietness on earth, given as a pledge and foretaste of the more glorious and eternal Sabbath of Heaven-(Bernard Barton).
 Now had I an evidence, as I thought, of my salvation from Heaven, with many golden seals thereon, all hanging in my sight. Now could I remember the manifestations of grace with comfort; and longed that the last day were come, that I might forever be inflamed with the sight, and joy, and communion with Him, whose soul was made an offering for my sins. Before this I lay trembling at the mouth of hell; now I had got so far therefrom that I could scarce discern it. O, thought I, that I were fourscore years old, that I might die quickly, and my soul be gone to rest- (Grace Abounding, No. 128).
 They should have said, It is true this way is not so pleasant as the meadow, but it is the Lord's way, and the best, doubtless, for us to travel in. A man speedily enters into temptation when he becomes discontented with God's allotments; then Satan presents allurements, and from wishing for a better way, the soul goes into a worse. The discontented wish is father to a sinful will; I wish for a better is followed by, I will have a better, and so the soul goes astray-(Cheever).
 The transition into the by-path is easy, for it lies close to the right way; only you must get over a stile, that is, you must quit Christ's imputed righteousness, and trust in your own inherent righteousness; and then you are in By-path Meadow directly-(Mason).
 The best caution I can give to others, or take myself, is, not to be guided in matters of faith by men, but to make the Scriptures our only rule-to look to God for the teaching of His blessed Spirit, that He may keep our feet from the ways of death-(J.B.).
 "There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death" (Prov. 14:12). Vain confidence is this very way. O how easy do professors get into it! yea, real pilgrims are prone also to take up with it, owing to that legality, pride, and self-righteousness, which work in their fallen nature. See the end of it, and tremble; for it leads to darkness, and ends in death. Lord, humble our proud hearts, and empty us of self- righteousness, pride, and vain confidence-(Mason).
 So, sometimes, real pilgrims take counsel and example of strangers, of worldly men, and of presumptuous careless persons. Vain confidence is a sad guide anywhere, but especially when one has wandered out of the way- (Cheever).
 If thou be prying into God's secret decrees, or entertain questions about nice curiosities, thou mayest stumble and fall to thine eternal ruin. Take heed of that lofty spirit, that, devil-like, cannot be content with its own station- (Heavenly Footman).
 The thunder and lightning plainly show that this by- path leads to Sinai, not to Zion. One step over the stile, by giving way to a self-righteous spirit, and you enter the territories of despair-(J. B.).
 How varied is the experience of a Christian! he had just before overcome Demas, and conquered By-ends and his companions; is warned by Lot's wife, and now elated with the strength of his principles; boldness takes the place of caution; he ventures upon an easier path, and is involved in misery-(ED).
 When Bunyan pleaded, so energetically, for the communion of saints, irrespective of water-baptism, one of his arguments was, "The strongest may sometimes be out of the way." "Receive ye one another as Christ also received us"-(Vol. 2, p. 610).
 Here see, that as Christians are made helpful, so also, through prevailing corruptions, they are liable to prove hurtful to each other. But observe how grace works: it humbles, it makes the soul confess and be sorry for its misfortunes. Here is no reviling one another; but a tender sympathy and feeling concern for each other. O the mighty power of that grace and truth which came by Jesus Christ! How does it cement souls in the fellowship of love!- (Mason).
 How easy it is to trace the path that led the pilgrims astray! To avoid the roughness of the way, they entered the by-path, that by measures of carnal policy they might avoid afflictions. Guided by Vain-confidence, they were led from the road, and when this Vain-confidence was destroyed, they were involved in distress and danger- (Ivimey).
 The personification of Despair is one of the most instructive and beautiful portions of Bunyan's allegory. It appeals either to every man's experience, or to every man's sense of what may come upon him, on account of sin. It is at once, in some respects, the very gloomiest and very brightest part of the "Pilgrim's Progress"; for it shows at once to what a depth of misery sin may plunge the Christian, and also to what a depth the mercy of God in Christ may reach. The colouring of the picture is extremely vivid, the remembrance of it can never pass from the mind; and, as in a gallery of beautiful paintings, there may often be one that so strongly reminds you of your own experience, or that in itself is so remarkably beautiful as to keep you dwelling upon it with unabated interest; so it is with this delineation of Giant Despair, among the many admirable sketches of Bunyan's piety and genius. It is so full of deep life and meaning that you cannot exhaust it, and it is of such exquisite propriety and beauty that you are never tired with examining it-(Cheever).
 Sooner or later Doubting Castle will be the prison, and Giant Despair the keeper of all those who turn aside from Christ and His righteousness, to trust in any wise in themselves, and to their righteousness. "Our God is a jealous God," ever jealous of His own glory, and of the honour of His beloved Son-(Mason). So under the old cut, illustrating the Pilgrims in Doubting Castle, are these lines- "The pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh, Will seek its ease; but O! how they afresh Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into! Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo."
 Blessed sorrow! how many are there who never tasted the bread of Heaven, nor the water of life from the wells of salvation; who are strangers to the communion of saints, but do not feel themselves to be "in evil case," nor have wept under a sense of their wretched state-(ED).
 What! such highly-favoured Christians in Doubting Castle? After having traveled so far in the way of salvation, seen so many glorious things in the way, experienced so much of the grace and love of their Lord, and having so often proved His faithfulness? Is not this strange? No; it is common-the strongest Christians are liable to err and get out of the way, and then to be beset with very great and distressing doubts-(Mason). Despair, like a tremendous giant, will at last seize on the souls of all unbelievers; and when Christians conclude, from some misconduct, that they belong to that company, they are exposed to be taken captive by him. They do not, indeed, fall and perish with Vain-confidence; but for a season they find it impossible to rise superior to prevailing gloomy doubts bordering on despair, or to obtain the least comfortable hope of deliverance, or encouragement to use the proper means of seeking it-(Scott).
 The wife of Despair is Diffidence, or a distrust of God's faithfulness, and a want of confidence in His mercy. When a Christian follows such counsels, gloom and horror of mind will be produced, and life become a burden- (Ivimey).
 Bunyan, in one of his delightful treatises of comfort against despair, introduces the following striking colloquy-"Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou art one of the vilest in all the pack of professors? Yes, says the soul, I do. Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou hast horribly sinned? Yes, says the soul, I do. Well, saith Satan, now will I come upon thee with my appeals. Art thou not a graceless wretch? Yes. Hast thou an heart to be sorry for this wickedness? No, not as I should. And albeit, saith Satan, thou prayest sometimes, yet is not thy heart possessed with a belief that God will not regard thee? Yes, says the sinner. Why, then, despair, and go hang thyself, saith the devil. And now we are at the end of the thing designed and driven at by Satan. But what shall I now do, saith the sinner? I answer, take up the words of the text against him, "That ye may be able to comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge-(Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love, vol. 2, p. 37).
 Giant Despair, it seems, has fits in sunshiny weather; that is, a gleam of hope, from Christ the Sun of righteousness, sometimes darted into their minds-(Burder).
 Satan and his angels will not be wanting to help forward the calamity of the man, who, in coming to Christ, is beat out of breath, out of heart, out of courage, by wind that blows him backward. They will not be wanting to throw up his heels in their dirty places, nor to trouble his head with the fumes of their foul breath. And now it is hard coming to God; Satan has the art of making the most of every sin; he can make every hair on the head as big as a cedar. But, soul, Christ can save unto the uttermost! come, man, come. He can do exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think!-(Bunyan's Complete Saviour, vol. 1, p. 209). Poor Christian! What! tempted to destroy thyself? Lord, what is man! But see, despairing souls, mark the truth of that word, "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it" (1 Cor. 10:13)-(Mason).
 Bunyan had an acute sense of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and no saint had suffered more severely from despair. One of his great objects, in most of his works, is to arm poor pilgrims against desponding fears. Thus, in his first treatise on Gospel Truths-"He (the devil) will be sure to present to thy conscience the most sad sentences of the Scripture; yea, and set them home with such cunning arguments, that if it be possible he will make thee despair, and make away thyself as did Judas"-(Vol. 2, p.132). Sin, when seen in its colours, and when appearing in its monstrous shape and hue, frighteth all mortals out of their wits, away from God, and, if He stops them not, also out of the world. This is manifest by Cain, Judas, Saul, and others. They fly from before God, one to one fruit of despair, and one to another-(Pharisee and Publican, vol. 2, p. 260).
 An admirable chain of reasoning, pointing out the evils of despair, is to be found in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved (vol. 1, pp. 91, 92), under the head Fifthly. "It will make a man his own tormentor, and flounce and fling like a wild bull in a net (Isa. 51:20). Despair! it drives a man to the study of his own ruin, and brings him at last to be his own executioner" (2 Sam. 17:3-5)-(ED).
 Alas, how chang'd! Expressive of his mind, His eyes are sunk, arms folded, head reclin'd; Those awful syllables, hell, death, and sin, Though whisper'd, plainly tell what works within. -(Cowper's Hope).
"A wounded spirit who can bear?"
 To bring the state of Christian's mind before us, read the lamentations of the Psalmist, when he was a prisoner in Doubting Castle, under Giant Despair, in Psalm 88; and Bunyan's experience, as narrated in No. 163 of Grace Abounding. Despair swallowed him up, and that passage fell like a hot thunderbolt upon his conscience, "He was rejected, for he found no place for repentance"-(Ivimey).
 Dr. Donne, the celebrated Dean of St. Paul's, had recently published a thesis, to prove that suicide, under some circumstances, was justifiable. Hopeful answers all his arguments, and proves it to be the foulest of murders. Bunyan, in his treatise on Justification, volume 1, page 314, thus notices the jailer's intent to commit suicide, when the doors of the prison in which Paul was confined were thrown open-"Even now, while the earthquake shook the prison, he had murder in his heart-murder, I say, and that of a high nature, even to have killed his own body and soul at once"-(ED).
 Here is the blessing of a hopeful companion; here is excellent counsel. Let vain professors say what they may against looking back to past experiences, it is most certainly good and right so to do; not to encourage present sloth and presumption, but to excite fresh confidence of hope in the Lord. We have David's example, and Paul's word to encourage us to this, "The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine" (1 Sam. 17:37); and says Paul, "We had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead" (2 Cor. 1:9)-(Mason).
 It is a curious picture which Bunyan has drawn of the intercourse between the giant and his wife Diffidence. They form a very loving couple in their way; and the giant takes no new step in the treatment of the pilgrims without consulting Mrs. Diffidence over night, so that the curtain lectures to which we listen are very curious. But Mrs. Diffidence ought rather to have been called Dame Desperation, or Desperate Resolution; for she seems, if anything, the more stubborn genius of the two-(Cheever). By these conversations between Diffidence and Despair, after they had retired to bed, Bunyan perhaps designed to intimate that, as melancholy persons seldom get rest at night, the gloominess of the season contributes to the distress of their minds. So Asaph complains: "My sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted" (Psa. 67:2)-(Ivimey).
 How would the awful lesson of the man in the iron cage, at the Interpreter's house, now recur to poor Christian's mind: "I cannot get out, O now I cannot! I left off to watch, and am shut up in this iron cage, nor can all the men in the world let me out." Christian's answer to the despairing pilgrim now soon broke upon his memory: "The Son of the Blessed is very pitiful"-(ED).
 What! Pray in the custody of Giant Despair, in the midst of Doubting Castle, and when their own folly brought them there too? Yes; mind this, ye pilgrims, ye are exhorted, "I will that men pray everywhere, without doubting" (1 Tim. 2:8). We can be in no place but God can hear, nor in any circumstance but God is able to deliver us from. And be assured, that when the spirit of prayer comes, deliverance is nigh at hand-(Mason). Perhaps the author selected Saturday at midnight for the precise time when the prisoners began to pray, in order to intimate that the preparation for the Lord's day, which serious persons are reminded to make for its sacred services, are often the happy means of recovering those that have fallen into sin and despondency-(Scott).
 All at once, by a new revelation, which none but the Saviour could make, Christian finds the promises. Christ had been watching over his erring disciples-He kept back the hand of Despair from destroying them-He binds up the broken heart, and healeth all their wounds-(Cheever). As a key enters all the intricate wards of a lock, and throws back its bolts, so the precious promises of God in his Word, if turned by the strong hand of faith, will open all the doors which unbelief and despair have shut upon us- (Burder).
 Bunyan was a plain-spoken man, and feared not to offend delicate ears when truth required honest dealing. In his treatise on the Law and Grace, he says: "And therefore, my brethren, seeing God, our Father, hath sent us, damnable traitors, a pardon from Heaven, even all the promises of the Gospel, and hath also sealed to the certainty of it with the heart-blood of His dear Son, let us not be daunted-(Vol. 1, p. 562).
 Precious promise! The promises of God in Christ are the life of faith, and the quickeners of prayer. O how oft do we neglect God's great and precious promises in Christ Jesus, while doubts and despair keep us prisoners! So it was with these pilgrims; they were kept under hard bondage of soul for four days. Hence see what it is to grieve the Spirit of God: for He only is the Comforter: and if He withdraws His influences, who or what can comfort us? Though precious promises are revealed in the Word, yet we can get no comfort from them but by the grace of the Spirit-(Mason).
 It was Sabbath morning. The sun was breaking over the hills, and fell upon their pale, haggard countenances, it was to them a new creation; they breathed the fresh, reviving air, and brushed, with hasty steps, the dew from the untrodden grass, and fled the nearest way to the stile, over which they had wandered. They had learned a lesson by suffering, which nothing else could have taught them, and which would remain with them to the day of their death- (Cheever). The experience of these "three or four" dreadful days is specially recorded in Grace Abounding, (Nos. 261- 263). The key which opened the doors in Doubting Castle was these words, applied with power to his soul, "I must go to Jesus," in connection with Hebrews 12:22-24. Of the first night of his deliverance he says, "I could scarcely lie in my bed for joy and peace, and triumph through Christ"-(ED).
 They fell to devising what soldiers, and how many, Diabolus should go against Mansoul with, to take it; and after some debate, it was concluded that none were more fit for that expedition than an army of terrible DOUBTERS. They therefore concluded to send against Mansoul an army of sturdy doubters. Diabolus was to beat up his drum for 20 or 30,000 men in the Land of Doubting, which land lieth upon the confines of a place called Hell-gate Hill. Captain Rage was over the election doubters; his were the red colours; his standard-bearer was Mr. Destructive; and the great red dragon he had for his scutcheon. Captain Fury was over the vocation doubters; his standard-bearer was darkness; his colours were pale; and his scutcheon the fiery flying serpent. Captain Damnation was over the grace doubters; his were the red colours; Mr. No-life bore them; his scutcheon was the Black Den, &c.-(Holy War).
 When offending Christians are brought to deep repentance, renewed exercises of lively faith, and willing obedience in those self-denying duties which they had declined, the Lord "restores to them the joy of His salvation," and their former comforts become more abundant and permanent. The Delectable Mountains seem intended to represent those calm seasons of peace and comfort-(Scott).
 O how many professors grow weary of the way, fall short, and fail of coming to the end! Though the way be too far, too strait, and too narrow for many who set out, and never hold out to the end; yet all who are begotten by the Word of grace, and born of the Spirit of truth, shall persevere to the end, being kept by the mighty power of God, through faith, unto eternal salvation (1 Peter 1:5)- Mason).
 There is in this laconic description of the homely dreamer a richness of beauty which no efforts of the artist can adequately portray; and in the concise dialogue of the speakers, a simple sublimity of eloquence which any commentary could only weaken. While our feelings are excited by this description, we cannot but remember that "eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man: the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him"-(Bernard Barton).
 Precious names! What is a pilgrim without knowledge? What is head-knowledge without heart-experience? And watchfulness and sincerity ought to attend us every step. When these graces are in us and abound, they make delectable mountains indeed-(Mason).
 Fine-spun speculations and curious reasonings lead men from simple truth and implicit faith into many dangerous and destructive errors-(Mason).
 It is well for us to be much on this mount. We have constant need of caution. Take heed and beware, says our Lord. Paul takes the Corinthians up to this Mount Caution, and shows them what awful things have happened to professors of old; and he leaves this solemn word for us, "Wherefore, let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall" (1 Cor. 10:12)-(Mason).
 O the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt, yielding to desperation! This is the man that hath his dwelling among the tombs with the dead, that is always crying out, and cutting himself with stones (Mark 5:3). But all in vain; desperation will not comfort him, the old covenant will not save him-(Grace Abounding, No. 185).
 Some retain the name of Christ, and the notion of Him as a Saviour; but cast Him off in the very things wherein the essential parts of His sacrifice, merits, and priesthood consist. In this lies the mystery of their iniquity. They dare not altogether deny that Christ doth save His people, as a Priest; but then their art is to confound His offices, until they jostle out of doors the merit of His blood and the perfection of His justifying righteousness. Such draw away the people from the cross (put out their eyes), and lead them among the infidels- (Bunyan's Israel's Hope, vol. 1, p. 615).
 Probably to guard pilgrims against the Popish doctrine of auricular confession-(ED).
 Those seem to shun the common broad road; but having only the mark of religion, while their hearts are not right with God, are as effectually ruined as the most profligate and open offenders-(Burder).
 Thus we read of some who were once enlightened, and had tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the world to come (Heb. 6:6). It is hard to say how far or how long a person may carry on a profession, and yet fall away, and come short of the kingdom at last. This should excite to diligence, humility, and circumspection, ever looking to Jesus to keep us from falling-(Mason).
 It reflects the highest credit on the diffidence of Bunyan's genius-a genius as rich in its inventions, and as aspiring in its imaginative flights, as ever poet could possess or lay claim to-that, after such an exordium, he should have made no effort minutely to describe what was in its own splendour of glory indescribable. How beautifully, without exciting any disappointment in a reader of taste, feeling, and judgment, does he, by a few artless words, render most impressive and sublime, what more elaborate description could only have made confused and unsatisfactory. Nothing can be more admirable than this brief and indistinct report of the perspective glass, it cannot offend the most fastidious taste, yet leaves scope for the exercise of the most ardent and aspiring imagination-(Bernard Barton).  Such mountains round about this house do stand. As one from thence may see the Holy Land. -(Bunyan's House of God, vol. 2, p. 579).
 After going through the conflict with Apollyon, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the scenes in Vanity Fair, and the dread experience of the pilgrims in Giant Despair's Castle, it is well to note what a gallery of solemn REALITIES is here, what a system of Divine truth, commending itself to all men's consciences. It is not so much the richness of imagination, nor the tenderness of feeling here exhibited, nor the sweetness and beauty of the imagery, with which this book is filled, as it is the presence of these REALITIES that constitutes the secret of its unbounded power over the soul. Walk up and down in this rich and solemn gallery. How simple are its ornaments! How grave, yet beautiful, its architecture! Amidst all this deep, serene beauty to the imagination, by how much deeper a tone do these pictures speak to the inner spiritual being of the soul! When you have admired the visible beauty of the paintings, turn again to seek their meaning in that light from eternity by which the artist painted them, and by which he would have all men examine their lessons, and receive and feel the full power of their colouring. In this light, the walls of this gallery seem moving with celestial figures speaking to the soul. They are acting the drama of a life which, by most men, is only dreamed of; but the drama is the reality, and it is the spectators only who are walking in a vain show-(Cheever).
 This is the first break in the dream, and, doubtless, had an important meaning. Perhaps the pilgrimage may be divided into four parts: 1. The convert flying from the wrath to come; instructed at the Interpreter's house; relieved of his burden at the cross; ascends the Hill Difficulty; overcomes his timidity; and, 2. Enters a church at the House Beautiful; and, as a private member, continues his journey, until, 3. He meets Evangelist, near Vanity Fair, and is found fit to become an itinerant preacher; in which calling he suffers persecution, and obtains that fitness which enables him, 4. On the Delectable Mountains, to enter upon the responsible duties of a ministering elder or pastor of a church, and is ordained by Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere. Is this commencement of his public labours the important point when the author "awoke from his dream"?-(ED).
 This country we are all born in; all are ignoramuses by nature. Some live long in the country of Conceit, and many end their days in it. Are you come out of it? So was Ignorance; but he breathed his native air. So long as a sinner thinks he can do anything towards making himself righteous before God, his name is Ignorance; he is full of self-conceit, and destitute of the faith of Christ-(Mason).
 Now, is it not very common to hear professors talk at this rate? Yes, and many who make a very high profession too; their hopes are plainly grounded upon what they are in themselves, and how they differ from their former selves and other sinners, instead of what Christ is to us and what we are in Christ. But the profession of such is begun with an ignorant, whole, self-righteous heart; it is continued in pride, self-seeking, and self-exalting, and ends in awful disappointment. For such are called by our Lord thieves and robbers; they rob Him of the glory of His grace and the gift of His imputed righteousness-(Mason).
 It is best not to converse much at once with persons of this character, but, after a few warnings, to leave them to their reflections; for their self-conceit is often cherished by altercations, in which they deem themselves very expert, however disgusting their discourse may prove to others-(Scott).
 An awful scene was beheld by the pilgrims. A professor, named Turn-away, bound with seven cords, was led by devils to the by-way to hell. Let everyone inquire, Who is this wanton professor?-He who discovers a trifling, worldly, wanton spirit, dreads not the appearance of evil, complies with the fashions of the carnal world, and associates with the enemies of our Lord; and, in time, becomes a damnable apostate. Lord, keep us from such a beginning and such an end!-(Burder).
 The "very dark lane" in which "Turn-away" was met by the pilgrims, represents the total darkness of the minds of such wicked professors; for "if the light that is in them be darkness, how great is that darkness!" When their characters are made manifest, they are ashamed to look their former pious friends in the face. "The wicked shall be holden with the cords of his sins" (Prov. 5:22)- (Ivimey).
 O beware of a light trifling spirit and a wanton behaviour. It is often the forerunner of apostasy from God. It makes one tremble to hear those who profess to follow Christ in the regeneration, crying, What harm is there in this game and the other diversion? The warmth of love is gone, and they are become cold, dead, and carnal. O how many instances of these abound!-(Mason).
 In times of persecution, loose professors are driven down Dead Man's Lane to Broad-way Gate; thus Satan murders the souls of men, by threatening to kill their bodies. Believers that are weak in faith are betrayed into sinful compliances; they sleep when they ought to watch, they conceal or deny their profession, and thus contract guilt; Faint-heart assaults them, Mistrust plunders them, and Guilt beats them down-(Scott).
 The fly in the spider's net is the emblem of the soul in such a condition. If the soul struggleth, Satan laboureth to hold it down. If it make a noise, he bites it with blasphemous mouth; insomuch that it must needs die at last in the net, if the Lord Jesus help not. Believing is sure sweating work. Only strong faith can make Satan flee. O the toil of a gracious heart in this combat, if faith be weak! The man can get no higher than his knees, till an arm from Heaven help him up-(Bunyan's Holy City).
 When Bunyan was imprisoned, his sentence was-To be transported, if he did not conform in three months; and then, if found as a Nonconformist, in this country, he should be hung. Determined at all hazards not to be a traitor to his God, he anticipated being hung; and was anxious, in such a cause, to meet death with firmness. When his fears prevailed, he dreaded lest he should make but a scrabbling shift to clamber up the ladder-(See Grace Abounding, No. 334).
 Where there is a faint heart in God's cause, and mistrust of God's truths, there will be guilt in the conscience, and but little faith. These rogues will prevail over, and rob such souls of the comforts of God's love and of Christ's salvation. By his jewels, we may understand those radical graces of the Spirit-faith, hope, and love. By his spending-money, the sealing and earnest of the Spirit in his heart (2 Cor. 1:22). Of this Divine assurance, and the sense of the peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, he was robbed; so that, though he still went on in the ways of the Lord, yet he dragged on but heavily and uncomfortably-(Mason).
 Bunyan throws great light upon this subject in his Christ a Complete Saviour, (vol. 1, p. 215)-"We are saved by Christ; brought to glory by Christ; and all our works are no otherwise made acceptable to God, but by the person and excellencies of Christ. Therefore, whatever the jewels are, and the bracelets and the pearls that thou shalt be adorned with, as a reward of service done to God in this world, for them thou must thank Christ, and, before all, confess that He was the meritorious cause thereof."
 What was this good thing? His precious faith, whose author, finisher, and object is precious Jesus. And where he gives this precious gift of faith, though it be but little, even as a grain of mustard-seed, not all the powers of earth and hell can rob the heart of it. Christ prayed for His disciple that his faith should not fail, or be totally lost; therefore, though Peter lost his comforts for a season, yet not his faith totally, not his soul eternally; for, says Jesus, of all his dear flock, yea, of those of little faith too, None shall pluck them out of My hand. There is one blessed security, not in ourselves, but in our Lord-(Mason).
 Hope, love, humility, meekness, patience, longsuffering, compassion, and mercy, are gracious dispositions wrought in the heart by the Holy Ghost. These are the believer's jewels; and it is his duty to keep them clean, that their beauty and lustre may be apparent- (Andronicus).
 Little-faith cannot come all the way without crying. So long as its holy boldness lasts, so long it can come with peace, but it will go the rest of the way with crying- (Bunyan's Come and Welcome, vol. 1, p. 288).
 Bunyan shows the difference between "his spending- money," or that treasure which the Christian carries in his earthen vessel, and his jewels, in Grace Abounding (No. 232)-"It was glorious to me to see His [Christ's] exaltation. Now I could look from myself to Him, and should reckon that all those graces of God that now were green in me, were yet but like those cracked groats and fourpence- halfpennies, (Irish sixpences, which, in the dearth of silver coin in England, were made current at fourpence- halfpenny-ED), that rich men carry in their purses, when their GOLD is in their trunks at home. Oh! I saw that my gold was in my trunk at home, in Christ my Lord and Saviour. Now, Christ was all; all my wisdom, all my righteousness, all my sanctification, and all my redemption."
 Hopeful was not the first pilgrim who has been "almost made angry" while holding a friendly debate upon that highly-important subject, the doctrine of the saints' final perseverance. Pilgrims ought to debate upon those subjects without being angry-(ED).
 Hopeful here expresses himself as if he had read Bunyan on Christ's Love-"But to fear man is to forget God. He taketh part with them that fear HIM; so that we may boldly say, "The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me" (Heb. 13:6). Would it not be amazing to see a man encompassed with chariots, and horses, and weapons of defence, yet afraid of being sparrow-blasted, or overrun by a grasshopper?"-(Vol. 2, p. 13).
 Who can stand in the evil day of temptation, when beset with Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, backed by the power of their master, Satan? No one, unless armed with the whole armour of God; and even then, the power of such infernal foes makes it a hard fight to the Christian. But this is our glory, the Lord shall fight for us, and we shall hold our peace. We shall be silent as to ascribing any glory to ourselves, knowing our very enemies are part of ourselves, and that we are more than conquerors over all these (only) through HIM who loved us (Rom. 8:37)-(Mason).
 "One Great-grace"; a believer, or minister, who having honourably stood his ground, endeavours to restore the fallen. The remembrance of such, helps to drive away despondency, and inspires the trembling penitent with hope of mercy-(Scott).
 "I trow"; I imagine or believe: nearly obsolete-(ED).
 Now here you see what is meant by Great-grace, who is so often mentioned in this book, and by whom so many valiant things were done. We read, "With great power the apostles gave witness of the resurrection of Jesus." Why was it? Because "great grace was upon them all" (Acts 4:33). So you see all is of grace, from first to last, in salvation. If we do great things for Christ, yet, not unto us, but unto the great grace of our Lord, be all the glory- (Mason).
 If we saw our own weakness, we should never court dangers, nor run in the way of temptation; yet, if our temptations be ever so sharp and strong, and our dangers ever so great, if the Lord is our strength, we need not fear-(J. B.).
 From this sweet and edifying conversation, learn not to think more highly of yourself than you ought to think; but to think soberly, according to the measure of faith which God hath dealt to you (Rom. 12:3). Now, it is of the very essence of faith to lead us out of all self-confidence and vain vaunting. For we know not how soon Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt may spring up in us, and rob us of our comforts, and spoil our joys-(Mason).
 Instead of saying, "Though all men deny thee, yet will not I," it behooves us to use all means of grace diligently, and to be instant in prayer, that the Lord Himself may protect us by His power, and animate us by His presence, and then only shall we be enabled to overcome both the fear of man and the temptations of the devil- (Scott).
 But how contrary to this is the walk and conduct of some who profess to be pilgrims, and yet can willfully and deliberately go upon the devil's ground, and indulge themselves in carnal pleasures and sinful diversions! Such evidently declare in plain language, that they desire not the presence of God, but that He should depart from them; but a day will come which will bring on terrible reflections of mind for such things-(Mason).
 Mr. Ivimey's opinion is, that this "way which put itself into their way," and the flatterer, relates to Antinomianism. Of this I can form no accurate judgment, never having met with an Antinomian, or one who professed to be against the law of God. I have met with those who consider that believers are bound to prefer the law of God as revealed by Jesus Christ, in Matthew 22:37-40, to be their rule of life, instead of limiting themselves to the law of God as given by Moses, in Exodus 20; but it has been for this reason, that the law proclaimed by Christ unites in it the law given by Moses, and ALL the law and the prophets. This law, as given by Christ, is in a few words of beautiful simplicity, which can neither be misunderstood nor be forgotten. Mason says, "It is plain the author means the way of self-righteousness," into which the flatterer enticed the pilgrims, out of the Scripture highway to Heaven, in the righteousness of Christ. When ministers differ, private Christians must think for themselves. My judgment goes with Mr. Mason-(ED). This way, which seemed as straight as the right way, and in entering on which there was no stile to be passed, must denote some very plausible and gradual deviation from the simplicity of the Gospel, in doctrine or practice. If, in such a case, instead of a personal prayerful searching the Scripture, we rely upon the opinion of our friends, and listen to the flatterer, we shall certainly be misled-(Scott).
 Luther was wont to caution against the white devil as much as the black one; for Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, and his ministers as ministers of righteousness (2 Cor. 11:14, 15). And how do they deceive souls? By flattery. Leading poor sinners into a fine notion of some righteous character they have in themselves, what great advances they have made, and what high attainments they have arrived to, even to be perfect in themselves, to be free from sin, and full of nothing but love. These are black men clothed in white-(Mason).
 By this shining one understand the loving Lord the Holy Ghost, the leader and guide of Christ's people. When they err and stray from Jesus the way, and are drawn from Him as the truth, the Spirit comes with His rod of convic- tion and chastisement, to whip souls for their self- righteous pride and folly, back to Christ, to trust wholly in Him, to rely only on Him, and to walk in sweet fellowship with Him. So he acted by the Galatian church, which was flattered into a notion of self-righteousness, and self- justification. So David, when he found himself nearly lost, cries out, "He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake" (Psa. 23:3)-(Mason). The devil, in his attempts after our destruction, maketh use of the most suitable means. The serpent, Adam knew, was subtle, therefore Satan useth him, thereby to catch this goodly creature, man. Hereby the devil least appeared [this fine-spoken man], and least appearing, the temptation soonest took the tinder-(Bunyan on Genesis, vol. 2, p. 428).
 The backsliding of a Christian comes through the overmuch persuading of Satan and lust; that the man was mistaken, and that there was no such horror in the things from which he fled; nor so much good in the things to which he hosted. Turn again, fool, says the devil. I wonder what frenzy it was that drove thee to thy heels, and that made thee leave so much good behind thee as other men find in the lusts of the flesh and the good of the world. As for the law, and death, and the day of judgment, they are but mere scarecrows, set up by politic heads, to keep the ignorant in subjection. Well, he goes back, fool as he is, conscience sleeps, and flesh is sweet; but, behold, he again sees his own nakedness-he sees the law whetting his axe-the world is a bubble. He also smells the brimstone which begins to burn within him. Oh! saith he, I am deluded! "Have mercy upon me, O God!"-(Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. 1, p. 223).
 A wicked man, though he may hector it at times with his proud heart, as though he feared neither God nor hell; yet again, at times, his soul is even drowned with terrors. If one knew the wicked, when they are under warm convic- tions, then the bed shakes on which they be; then the proud tongue doth falter in their mouth, and their knees knock one against another. Then their conscience stares, and roars, and tears, and arraigns them. O! none can imagine what fearful plights a wicked man is in at times!-(Bunyan's Desires of the Righteous, vol. 1, p. 746).
 On the Delectable Mountains, the pilgrims had a sight of the Celestial City. No matter if it were but a glimpse; still they saw it, they really saw it, and the remembrance of that sight never left them. There it was in glory! Their hands trembled, their eyes were dim with tears, but still that vision was not to be mistaken. There, through the rifted clouds, for a moment, the gates of pearl were shining, the jasper walls, the endless domes, the jeweled battlements! The splendour of the city seemed to pour, like a river of light, down upon the spot where they were standing- (Cheever).
 See how we are surrounded with different enemies! No sooner have they escaped the self-righteous flatterer, but they meet with the openly profane and licentious mocker- aye, and he set out, and went far too; yea, further than they. But, behold, he has turned his back upon all; and though he had been 20 years a seeker, yet now he proves, that he has neither faith nor hope, but ridicules all as delusion. Awful to think of! O what a special mercy to be kept believing and persevering, and not regarding the ridicule of apostates!-(Mason).
 "To round"; to be open, sincere, candid. "Maister Bland answered flatly and roundly"-(Fox's Book of Martyrs).
 Upon the declaration for liberty of conscience, the church for a season was free from persecution. It was like enchanted ground; and some, who had been watchful in the storm, became careless and sleepy in this short deceitful calm-(ED).
 Ah, these short naps for pilgrims! The sleep of death, in the enchanted air of this world, usually begins with one of these short naps-(Cheever).
 The Enchanted Ground may represent worldly prosperity; agreeable dispensations succeeding long- continued difficulties. This powerfully tends to produce a lethargic frame of mind; the man attends to religious duties more from habit, than from delight in the service of God. No situation requires so much watchfulness. Other experiences resemble storms, which keep a man awake; this is a treacherous calm, which lulls him to sleep-(Scott).
 O Christian, beware of sleeping on this enchanted ground! When all things go easy, smooth, and well, we are prone to grow drowsy in soul. How many are the calls in the Word against spiritual slumber! and yet how many professors, through the enchanting air of this world, are fallen into the deep sleep of formality! Be warned by them to cry to thy Lord to keep thee awake to righteousness, and vigorous in the ways of thy Lord-(Mason).
 Here you see, as our Lord says, "It is the Spirit who quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing" (John 6:63). Our carnal nature is so far from profiting in the work of conversion to Christ, that it is at enmity against Him, and opposes the Spirit's work in showing us our want of Him, and bringing us to Him. Man's nature and God's grace are two direct opposites. Nature opposes, but grace subdues nature, and brings it to submission and subjection. Are we truly convinced of sin, and converted to Christ? This is a certain and sure evidence of it-we shall say from our hearts, Not unto us, nor unto any yieldings and compliances of our nature, free-will, and power, but unto Thy name, O Lord, be all the glory. For it is by Thy free, sovereign, efficacious grace, we are what we are. Hence, see the ignorance, folly, and pride of those who exalt free-will, and nature's power, &c. Verily they do not know themselves, even as they are known-(Mason).
 Not the evil of sin in the sight of God, but the remorse and fear of wrath, with which the convinced sinner is oppressed, and from which he, at times, seeks relief by means which exceedingly increase his actual guilt. Nothing but a free pardon, by faith in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, can take away guilt; but the uneasiness of a man's conscience may be for a time removed by various expedients- (Scott).
 In modern editions, this has been altered to "sin enough in one day." But in any period of time, selecting that duty in the discharge of which we have felt the most pure, there has been a mixture of sin. "For there is not a day, nor a duty; not a day that thou livest, nor a duty that thou dost, but will need that mercy should come after to take away thy iniquity"-(Bunyan's Saints' Privilege, vol. 1, p. 679). These are solemn and humbling reflections- (ED).
 Thus, you see, in conversion, the Lord does not act upon us as though we were mere machines. No, we have understanding; He enlightens it. Then we come to a sound mind; we think right, and reason justly. We have wills; what the understanding judges best, the will approves, and then the affections follow after; and thus we choose Christ for our Saviour, and glory only in His righteousness and salvation. When the heavenly light of truth makes manifest what we are, and the danger we are in, then we rationally flee from the wrath to come, to Christ the refuge set before us-(Mason).  Pray mind this. The grand object of a sensible sinner is righteousness. He has it not in himself; this he knows. Where is it to be found? In Christ only. This is a revealed truth; and without faith in this, every sinner must be lost. Consider, it is at the peril of your soul that you reject the righteousness of Christ; and do not believe that God imputeth it without works for the justification of the ungodly. O ye stout-hearted, self-righteous sinners, ye who are far from righteousness, know this and tremble!-(Mason).
 The true nature of faith is to believe and rest upon the Word of truth, and wait for the promised comfort. That faith which is the gift of God leads the soul to wait upon and cry to God, and not to rest till it has some blessed testimony from God of interest in the love and favour of God in Christ Jesus. But O how many professors rest short of this!-(Mason).
 As I thought my case most sad and fearful, these words did with great power suddenly break in upon me, "My grace is sufficient for thee," three times together. O! methought every word was a mighty word for me; as My, and grace, and sufficient, and for thee; they were then, and sometimes are still, far bigger than others be-(Grace Abounding, No. 206).
 The Lord's dealings with his children are various, but all lead to the same end; some are shaken with terror, while others are more gently drawn, as with cords of love. In these things believers should not make their experiences standards one for another; still there is a similarity in their being brought to the same point of rejecting both sinful and righteous self, and believing on the Lord Jesus Christ as their complete salvation-(Andronicus).
 Christ did not appear to Hopeful's senses, but to his understanding; and the words spoken are no other than texts of Scripture taken in their genuine meaning-not informing him, as by a new revelation, that his sins were pardoned, but encouraging him to apply for this mercy, and all other blessings of salvation-(Scott).
 Since the dear hour that brought me to Thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but Thine, Nor hoped, but in Thy righteousness Divine. My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled, Were but the feeble efforts of a child. Howe'er perform'd, it was their brightest part That they proceeded from a grateful heart. Cleans'd in Thine own all-purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good. I cast them at Thy feet-my only plea Is what it was, DEPENDENCE UPON THEE! -(Cowper).
 Not governed by the Word of God, but by his own will, his grounds of confidence for salvation unfitted him for Christian fellowship, unless he happened to fall in with a man who had imbibed his own notions-(ED).
 The desire of Heaven-when its nature is not understood, the proper means of obtaining it are neglected, other objects are preferred to it-is no proof that a man will be saved. The expression, "The desire of grace is grace," is very fallacious. But to hunger and thirst for God, and His righteousness, His favour, image, and service, as the supreme good, so that no other object can satisfy the heart, is grace indeed, and shall be completed in glory-(Scott).
 Real Christians are often put to a stand, while they find and feel the workings of all corruptions and sins in their nature; and when they hear others talk so highly of themselves, how full their hearts are of love to God, and of good motions, without any complainings of their hearts. But all this is from the ignorance of their own hearts; and pride and self-righteousness harden them against feeling its desperate wickedness-(Mason).
 I saw that it was not my good frame of heart that made my righteousness better, nor yet my bad frame that made my righteousness worse; for my righteousness was Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today, and forever (Heb. 13:8)-(Grace Abounding, No. 229).
 Here we see how naturally the notion of man's righteousness blinds his eyes to, and keeps his heart from believing, that Christ's personal righteousness alone justifies a sinner in the sight of God; and yet such talk bravely of believing, but their faith is only fancy. They do not believe unto righteousness; but imagine they have now, or shall get, a righteousness of their own, some how or other. Awful delusion!-(Mason).
 Here is the very essence of that delusion which works by a lie, and so much prevails, and keeps up an unscriptural hope in the hearts of so many professors. Do, reader, study this point well; for here seems to be a show of scriptural truth, while the rankest poison lies concealed in it. For it is utterly subversive of, and contrary to, the faith and hope of the Gospel-(Mason).
 The way of being justified by faith for which Ignorance pleads may well be called "fanatical," as well as "false"; for it is nowhere laid down in Scripture; and it not only changes the way of acceptance, but it takes away the rule and standard of righteousness, and substitutes a vague notion, called sincerity, in its place, which never was, nor can be, defined with precision-(Scott).
 Justification before God comes, not by imitating Christ as exemplary in morals, but through faith in His precious blood. To feed on Jesus is by respecting Him as made of God a curse for our sin. I have been pleased with observing, that none of the signs and wonders in Egypt could deliver the children of Israel thence, until the lamb was slain- (Bunyan on Justification, vol. 2, p. 330).
 Under these four heads, we have a most excellent detection of a presumptive and most dangerous error which now greatly prevails, as well as a scriptural view of the nature of true faith, and the object it flies on wholly and solely for justification before God, and acceptance with God. Reader, for thy soul's sake, look to thy foundation. See that thou build upon nothing in self, but all upon that sure foundation which God hath laid, even his beloved Son, and his perfect righteousness-(Mason).
 This, by all natural men, is deemed the very height of enthusiasm; but a spiritual man knows its blessedness, and rejoices in its comfort. It is a close question. What may we understand by it? Doubtless, what Paul means when he says, "It pleased God to reveal His Son in me," (Gal. 1:15, 16): that is, he had such an internal, spiritual, experimental sight, and knowledge of Christ, and of salvation by Him, that his heart embraced Him, his soul cleaved to Him, his spirit rejoiced in Him; his whole man was swallowed up with the love of Him, so that he cried out in the joy of his soul, This is my Beloved and my Friend-my Saviour, my God, and my Salvation. He is the chief of ten thousand, and altogether lovely. We know nothing of Christ savingly, comfortably, and experimentally, till He is pleased thus to reveal Himself to us (Matt. 11:27). This spiritual revelation of Christ to the heart is a blessing and comfort agreeable to, and consequent upon, believing on Christ, as revealed outwardly in the Word. Therefore, every believer should wait, and look, and long, and pray for it. Beware you do not despise it; if you do, you will betray your ignorance of spiritual things, as Ignorance did- (Mason).
 Many of these revelations appear in the Grace Abounding, as "that scripture fastened on my heart" (No. 201); "that sentence darted in upon me" (No. 204); "these words did with great power break in upon me" (No. 206); "suddenly this sentence fell upon my soul" (No. 229); and many others-(ED).
 That sinner is not thoroughly awakened, who does not see his need of Christ's righteousness to be imputed to him. Nor is he quickened, who has not fled to Christ as "the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth" (Rom. 10:4)-(Mason).
 Ignorant professors cannot keep pace with spiritual pilgrims, nor can they relish the doctrine of making Christ all in all, in the matter of justification and salvation, and making the sinner nothing at all, as having no hand in the work, nor getting any glory to himself by what he is able to do of himself. Free grace and free will; Christ's imputed righteousness, and the notion of man's personal righteousness, cannot accord-(Mason).
 Take heed of hardening thy heart at any time, against convictions or judgments. I bid you before to beware of a hard heart; now I bid you beware of hardening your soft heart. The fear of the Lord is the pulse of the soul. Pulses that beat best are the best signs of life; but the worst show that life is present. Intermitting pulses are dangerous. David and Peter had an intermitting pulse, in reference to this fear-(Bunyan on the Fear of God, vol. 1, pp. 487, 489).  Mark well Christian's definition of "fear." It is one of those precious passages in which our author gives us the subject matter of a whole treatise in a few short and plain sentences. Treasure it up in your heart, and often ponder it there. It will prove, through the blessing of the Spirit, a special means of enlivening, when spiritual langour, in consequence of worldly ease, is creeping upon your soul-(Andronicus).
 "Pitiful old self-holiness." Mind this phrase. Far was it from the heart of good Mr. Bunyan to decry personal holiness. It is nothing but self-holiness, or the holiness of the old man of sin; for true holiness springs from the belief of the truth, and love to the truth. All besides this only tends to self-confidence, and self-applause- (Mason).
 It is good to call to mind one's own ignorance, when in our natural estate, to excite humility of heart, and thankfulness to God, who made us to differ, and to excite pity towards those who are walking in nature's pride, self- righteousness, and self-confidence-(Mason).
 "Temporary"; one who is doctrinally acquainted with the Gospel, but a stranger to its sanctifying power. The reasons and manner of such men's declensions and apostasy are very justly and emphatically stated-(Scott).
 In Hoffman's poetical version of the "Pilgrim," this sentence is, "And nature will return, like Pope, to pork"; alluding to one of the Popes, who used daily to have a dish of pork; but, being sick, his physicians forbade it, when the Pope, in a rage, cried out, "Give me my pork, in spite of God"-(ED).
 A true description of the state of some professors. Here see the reason why so many saints, as they are called, fall away. From hence, some take occasion to deny the scriptural, soul-comforting doctrine, of the certain perseverance of God's saints unto eternal glory. So they display the pride of their own hearts, their ignorance of God's Word, while they make God's promises of no effect, and the Gospel of his grace, only much ado about nothing- (Mason).
 Three young fellows, Mr. Tradition, Mr. Human-wisdom, and Mr. Man's-invention, proffered their services to Shaddai. The captains told them not to be rash; but, at their entreaty, they were listed into Boanerges' company, and away they went to the war. Being in the rear, they were taken prisoners. Then Diabolus asked them if they were willing to serve against Shaddai. They told him, that as they did not so much live by religion as by the fates of fortune, they would serve him. So he made two of them sergeants; but he made Mr. Man's-invention his ancient- bearer [standard-bearer]-(Bunyan's Holy War).
 See how gradually, step by step, apostates go back. It begins in the unbelief of the heart, and ends in open sins in the life. Why is the love of this world so forbidden? Why is covetousness called idolatry? Because, whatever draws away the heart from God, and prevents enjoying close fellowship with him, naturally tends to apostasy from him. Look well to your hearts and affections. "Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life" (Prov. 4:23). If you neglect to watch, you will be sure to smart under the sense of sin on earth, or its curse in hell. "See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil" (Eph. 5:15, 16)-(Mason).
 O what a blessed state! what a glorious frame of soul is this! Job speaks of it as the candle of the Lord shining upon his head (29:3). The church, in a rapture, cries out, "Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; break forth into singing, O mountains: for the Lord hath comforted His people" (Isa. 49:13). Paul calls this, "The fullness of the blessing of the Gospel of Christ" (Rom. 15:29). O rest not short of enjoying the full blaze of Gospel peace and spiritual joy-(Mason). During the last days of that eminent man of God, Dr. Payson, he once said, "When I formerly read Bunyan's description of the Land of Beulah, where the sun shines and the birds sing day and night, I used to doubt whether there was such a place; but now my own experience has convinced me of it, and it infinitely transcends all my previous conceptions." The best possible commentary on the glowing descriptions in Bunyan is to be found in that very remarkable letter dictated by Dr. Payson to his sister, a few weeks before his death-"Were I to adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I might date this letter from the Land Beulah, of which I have been for some weeks a happy inhabitant. The Celestial City is full in my view. Its glories have been upon me, its breezes fan me, its odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me from it but the River of Death, which now appears but as an insignificant rill, that may be crossed at a single step, whenever God shall give permission. The Sun of Righteousness has been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appearing larger and brighter as He approached, and now He fills the whole hemisphere, pouring forth a flood of glory, in which I seem to float, like an insect in the beams of the sun; exulting, yet almost trembling, while I gaze on this excessive brightness, and wondering, with unutterable wonder, why God should deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm"-(Cheever).  In the immediate view of heavenly felicity, Paul "desired to depart hence, and be with Christ, as far better" than life. David "fainted for God's salvation." In the lively exercise of holy affections, the believer grows weary of this sinful world, longs to have his faith changed for sight, his hope swallowed up in enjoyment, and his love perfected- (Scott).
 No other language than that of Bunyan himself, perused in the pages of his own sweet book, could be successful in portraying this beauty and glory; for now he seems to feel that all the dangers of the pilgrimage are almost over, and he gives up himself without restraint so entirely to the sea of bliss that surrounds him, and to the gales of Heaven that are wafting him on, and to the sounds of melody that float in the whole air around him, that nothing in the English language can be compared with this whole closing part of the "Pilgrim's Progress," for its entrancing splendour, yet serene and simple loveliness. The colouring is that of Heaven in the soul; and Bunyan has poured his own Heaven-entranced soul into it. With all its depth and power, there is nothing exaggerated, and it is made up of the simplest and most scriptural materials and images. We seem to stand in a flood of light, poured on as from the open gates of paradise. It falls on every leaf and shrub by the way-side; it is reflected from the crystal streams that, between grassy banks, wind amidst groves of fruit-trees into vineyards and flower-gardens. These fields of Beulah are just below the gate of Heaven; and with the light of Heaven there come floating down the melodies of Heaven, so that here there is almost an open revelation of the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him- (Cheever).
 This is the place, this is the state, Of all that fear the Lord; Which men nor angels may relate With tongue, or pen, or word. No night is here for to eclipse Its spangling rays so bright; Nor doubt, nor fear, to shut the lips Of those within this light.
The strings of music here are timed For heavenly harmony, And every spirit here perfumed With perfect sanctity. Here run the crystal streams of life, Quite thorow all our veins; And here by love we do unite With glory's golden chains. -(Bunyan's One Thing Needful).
 Mr. Flavel, being on a journey, set himself to improve the time by meditation; when his mind grew intent, till at length he had such ravishing tastes of heavenly joys, and such full assurance of his interest therein, that he utterly lost the sight and sense of this world and all its concerns, so that for hours he knew not where he was. At last, perceiving himself faint, he alighted from his horse and sat down at a spring, where he refreshed himself, earnestly desiring, if it were the will of God, that he might there leave the world. His spirit reviving, he finished his journey in the same delightful frame; and all that night passed without a wink of sleep, the joy of the Lord still overflowing him, so that he seemed an inhabitant of the other world-(Pneumatologia, 4to, 2d edit. p. 210).
 Who are these ministering spirits, that the author calls "men"? Are they the glorified inhabitants of the Celestial City? Moses and Elias appeared at the transfiguration; so the spirit who spake with John (Rev. 20:10), was his fellow-servant. Are these "spirits of just men made perfect"-the angel-ministering spirits which are sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation? (Heb. 1:14; 12:22, 23)-(ED).
 What are these two difficulties? Are they not death without, and unbelief within? It is through the latter that the former is all-distressing to us. O for a strong, world- conquering, sin-subduing, death-overcoming faith, in life and death! Jesus, Master, speak the word, unbelief shall flee, our faith shall not fail, and our hope shall be steady-(Mason).
 Well, now the pilgrims must meet with, and encounter, their last enemy, death. When he stares them in the face, their fears arise. Through the river they must go. What have they to look at? What they are in themselves, or what they have done and been? No. Only the same Jesus who conquered death for us, and can overcome the fear of death in us-(Mason).
 But tim'rous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea; They linger, shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away-(Watts). Evodias could not join in the petition of the Liturgy-"From sudden death, good Lord, deliver us." He had his wish; and expired suddenly on a Lord's-day morning, while thousands were assembling to hear him preach-(Andronicus).
 Bunyan died in perfect peace, though it is probable that he expected darkness in the trying hour. Thus he says, in his treatise on Paul's Departure, "Aye, this will make thee cry, though thou be as good as David. Wherefore learn by his sorrows to serve thy generation, by the will of God, before falling asleep. God can pardon thy sins, and yet make them a bitter thing and a burden at death. It is easy to HIM to pardon, and yet break all thy bones; or show Himself in such dreadful majesty, that Heaven and earth shall tremble at His presence. Let the thoughts of this prevail with thee to manage thy time and work in wisdom, while thou art well" (Vol. 1, p. 730)-(ED).
 Satan is suffered to be very busy with God's people in their last moments, but he too, like death, is a conquered enemy by our Jesus; therefore, amidst all his attacks, they are safe. He cannot destroy them whom Jesus hath redeemed, for He is faithful to them, and almighty to save-(Mason).
 Hopeful, agreeably to his name, was not only preserved from terror, but enabled to encourage his trembling companion telling him the welcome news that "he felt the bottom, and it was good." Blessed experience! If Christ is our foundation, we have nothing to fear, even in the swellings of Jordan, for death itself cannot separate us from the love of Christ-((Burder).
 When you visit a sick or death bed, be sure that you take God's Word with you, in your heart and in your mouth. It is from that only that you may expect a blessing upon, and to the soul of, the sick or the dying; for it is by the Word of God faith came at the first; it is by that, faith is strengthened at the last; and Jesus is the sum and substance of the Scriptures-(Mason).
 Jesus Christ, He is indeed the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning of our hope, and the end of our confidence. We begin and end the Christian pilgrimage with Him; and all our temptations and trials speak loudly, and fully confirm to us that truth of our Lord, "Without Me ye can do nothing" (John 15:5)-(Mason).
 The temporary distresses of dying believers often arise from bodily disease, which interrupt the free exercise of their intellectual powers. Of this Satan will be sure to take advantage, as far as he is permitted, and will suggest gloomy imaginations, not only to distress them, but to dishearten others by their example. Generally they who, for a time, have been most distressed, have at length died most triumphantly-(Scott).
 I cannot trust myself to read the account of Christian going up to the Celestial Gate, after his passage though the River of Death-(Arnold).
 Bunyan, in his Saint's Knowledge of Christ's Love, describes the feelings of the pilgrim, while clothed with mortality, looking up to the heights of Heaven. Christ could mount up-Elijah had a chariot of fire-Enoch was taken by God. But I, poor I, how shall I get thither? How often are considering thoughts wanting in professors! The question is happily solved in Christian and Hopeful's experience; they left all their mortal garments and burdens behind them in the river, and their free spirits for the first time felt the sweets of liberty in their perfection- (ED).
 I know that all who go to paradise, are conducted thither by these holy ones; but yet, for all that, such as die under the cloud, for unchristian walking with God, may meet with darkness on that day, and go heavily hence. But as for those who have been faithful to their God, they shall see before them, or from earth see glory-(Bunyan's Paul's Departure, vol. 1, p. 741).
 Ah, Christian! None can conceive or describe what it is to live in a state separate from a body of sin and death. Surely in some happy, highly-favoured moments, we have had a glimpse, a foretaste of this, and could realize it by faith. O for more and more of this, till we possess and enjoy it in all its fullness! If Jesus be so sweet to faith below, who can tell what He is in full fruition above? This we must die to know-(Mason).
 Bunyan has, with great beauty and probability, brought in the ministry of angels, and regions of the air, to be passed through in their company, rising, and still rising, higher and higher, before they come to that mighty mount on which He has placed the gates of the Celestial City. The angels receive His pilgrims as they come up from the River of Death, and form for them a bright, glittering, seraphic, loving convoy, whose conversation prepares them gradually for that exceeding and eternal weight of glory which is to be theirs as they enter in at the gate. Bunyan has thus, in this blissful passage from the river to the gate, done what no other devout writer, or dreamer, or speculator, that we are aware of, has ever done; he has filled what perhaps in most minds is a mere blank, a vacancy, or at most a bewilderment and mist of glory, with definite and beatific images, with natural thoughts, and with the sympathizing communion of gentle spirits, who form, as it were, an outer porch and perspective of glory, through which the soul passes into uncreated light. Bunyan has thrown a bridge, as it were, for the imagination, over the deep, sudden, open space of an untried spiritual existence; where it finds, ready to receive the soul that leaves the body, ministering spirits, sent forth to minister unto them who are to be heirs of salvation- (Cheever).
 Glory beyond all glory ever seen By waking sense, or by the dreaming soul! The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty City-boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far, And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth, Far sinking into splendour without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted: here, serene pavilions bright, In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt With battlements, that on their restless fronts Bore stars-illumination of all gems! -(Wordsworth).
A certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate; Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd. To show also that here [by Christ] thou would'st be healed. And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways, And would'st in holiness spend all thy days. -(Bunyan's House of God, vol. 2, p. 580).
 Blessed indeed is that man who, while encumbered with a sinful body, can truly say, "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." In Him all the commandments are obeyed-all my sins washed away by His blood-and my soul clothed with righteousness and immortality. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord: they enter the Celestial City. This is the righteous nation, which keepeth the truth. O my reader, would you be one of the glorified inhabitants of that city whose builder and maker is God? Then must you live the life of faith; so run that ye may obtain; ever be found looking unto Jesus-(ED). Prepare me, Lord, for Thy right hand, Then come the joyful day; Come death, and some celestial hand, And fetch my soul away."
 O what acclamations of joy will there be, when all the children of God meet together, without the fear of being disturbed by Antichrist! How will the heavens echo of joy, when the Bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell with her Husband! If you would be better satisfied what the beatific vision means, my request is, that you would live holily, and thus go and see. Christ is the desire of all nations, the joy of angels, the delight of the Father. What solace, then, must that soul be filled with, which hath the possession of Christ to all eternity?-(Bunyan's Dying Sayings, vol.1, pp. 64, 65).
 When a formal visit from a minister, a few general questions, and a prayer, with or without the sacrament, calm the mind of a dying person, whose life has been unsuitable to the Christian profession; no doubt, could we penetrate the veil, we should see him wafted across the river in the boat of Vain-hope, and meeting with the awful doom that is here described. From such fatal delusions, good Lord, deliver us!-(Scott).
 Vain-hope ever dwells in the bosom of fools, and is ever ready to assist Ignorance. He wanted him at the last, and he found him. He had been his companion through life, and will not forsake him in the hour of death. You see Ignorance had no pangs in his death, no fears, doubts, and sorrows, no terror from the enemy, but all was serene and happy. Vain-hope was his ferryman; and he, as the good folks say, died like a lamb. Ah, but did such lambs see what was to follow, when Vain-hope had wafted them over the river, they would roar like lions!-(Mason).
 This is a most awful conclusion. Consider it deeply. Weigh it attentively, so as to get good satisfaction from the Word to these important questions-Am I in Christ, the way, the only way, to the kingdom, or not? Do I see that all other ways, whether of sin or self-righteousness, lead to hell? Does Christ dwell in my heart by faith? Am I a new creature in Him? Do I renounce my own righteousness, as well as abhor my sins? Do I look alone to Christ for righteousness, and depend only on Him for holiness? Is He the only hope of my soul, and the only confidence of my heart? And do I desire to be found in Him; knowing by the Word, and feeling by the teaching of His Spirit, that I am totally lost in myself? Thus, is Christ formed in me, the only hope of glory? Do I study to please Him, as well as hope to enjoy Him? Is fellowship with God the Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ, so prized by me, as to seek it, and to esteem it above all things? If so, though I may find all things in nature, in the world, and from Satan, continually opposing this, yet I am in Christ the way, and He is in me the truth and the life-(Mason). How far may such an one go? This important question is very solemnly argued in Bunyan's Law and Grace. He may be received into church-fellowship- and, like the foolish virgins, be clear from outward pollution-have gone forth from the rudiments and traditions of men-and had their lamps, but still lost their precious souls. They may bear office in the church, as Judas carried the bag, and as Demas! They may become preachers and ministers of the Gospel, with rare gifts, and a fluent tongue, like an angel, to speak of the hidden mysteries; but may die under the curse. They may have the gifts of the Spirit and prophecy, and be but a Balaam. They may stand thus until Christ come and reveal them. They may, with confidence, say, Lord, Lord, have we not eaten and drank in Thy presence, and taught in Thy name, and in Thy name have cast out devils? and yet, poor creatures, be shut out!- (ED).
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