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[112] 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.[113] 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.[114] 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.[115] 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. 32
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, Worldlyglory, 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.[116]
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 33
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?[117]
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.[118]
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 34
the Shadow of Death, and had no light for
almost half the way through it.[119] 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,[120] 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.[121]
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 35
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.[122]
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.[123]
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.[124] 36
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.[125]
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?[126] 37
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.[127]
TALK. You lie at the catch, I perceive.[128]
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.[129]
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 defile-38
ment 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; heartholiness,
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.[130]
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?[131]
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 39
which is said of a whore, to wit, that she is
a shame to all women; so are you a shame
to all professors.[132]
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.[133]
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![134]
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.[135]
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 40
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).[136] You are not yet out of the gunshot of the devil;
you have not resisted unto
blood, striving against sin; let the kingdom
be always before you, and believe steadfastly concerning
things that are 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.[137]
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.[138] 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. 41
Here are to be seen too, and that for
nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false
swearers, and that of a blood-red colour.[139]
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.[140]
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.[141]
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[142] (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,”[143]
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).[144] 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 42
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.[145] 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
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.[146] 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.[147] 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.[148]
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 sub-43
stance, 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.”[149]
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,[150]
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.[151]
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 44
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.[152]
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![153]
Then the Judge called to the jury (who
all this while stood by, to hear and observe);[154]
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.[155] 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. 45
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.[156] 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.[157]
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.[158]
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.[159]
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;[160] 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.[161] 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 Byends; 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; 46
and to tell you the truth, I am become a
gentleman of good quality, yet my greatgrandfather 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.[162]
Then Christian stepped a little aside to
his fellow Hopeful, saying, It runs in my
mind that this is one By-ends of Fairspeech; 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;[163] 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;[164] 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.[165]
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. Byends, 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;[166] 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 Lovegain, 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 47
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,[167] 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;[168]
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?[169]
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.[170]
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.[171]
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.[172]
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; 48
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.[173]
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.[174]
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-theworld, 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![175] Nor do we find any
other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and
witches, that are of this opinion.[176]
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, 49
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.[177] 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?[178]
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.[179]
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.[180]
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 Byends comes up, if he hath
the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see. 50
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.[181] 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[182]
(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 51
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.[183]
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.[184]
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”[185] (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:[186] 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.[187] 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.[188]
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 52
were much discouraged because of the
way” (Num. 21:4). Wherefore, still as they
went on, they wished for better way.[189]
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.[190] 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?[191]
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.[192] 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[193]
(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.[194]
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[195] in a very dreadful manner; and
the water rose amain.[196]
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.[197]
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.[198]
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.[199]
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 daybreak; but, being
weary, they fell asleep. 53
Now there was, not far from the place
where they lay, a castle, called Doubting
Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair;[200] 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.[201] 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,[202] because it was
through his unadvised counsel that they
were brought into this distress.[203]
Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her
name was Diffidence.[204] 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?[205]
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),[206] 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?[207]
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 54
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.[208] 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.[209]
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,[210] and I
think that Christian fell into a swoon;[211]
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,[212] 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.[213]
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.[214]
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; 55
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.[215]
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.[216]
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.[217]
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,[218]
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.[219] Then they went
on, and came to the King’s highway, and so
were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.[220]
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.[221]
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.[222] 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; 56
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[223] (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.[224]
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.[225] 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.[226]
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;[227] 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.[228] 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 57
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).[229] Then Christian
and Hopeful looked upon one another,
with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing
to the Shepherds.[230]
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