Of Jesus for the men that Pilgrims are
Thus to provide! That I should be forgiven!
And dwell already the next door to Heaven!"
So in the morning they all got up, and after some more discourse, they
told him that he should not depart till they had shewed him the
_Rarities_ of that place. And first they had him into the Study, where
they shewed him Records of the greatest Antiquity; in which, as I
remember my Dream, they shewed him first the _Pedigree_ of the Lord of
the Hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient of Days, and came by an
Eternal Generation. Here also was more fully recorded the Acts that he
had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his
service; and how he had placed them in such Habitations that could
neither by length of Days, nor decaies of Nature, be dissolved.
Then they read to him some of the worthy Acts that some of his
Servants had done: as, how they had subdued Kingdoms, wrought
Righteousness, obtained Promises, stopped the mouths of Lions,
quenched the violence of Fire, escaped the edge of the Sword; out of
weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to
flight the Armies of the _Aliens_.
Then they read again in another part of the Records of the house,
where it was shewed how willing their Lord was to receive into his
favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great
affronts to his Person and proceedings. Here also were several other
Histories of many other famous things, of all which _Christian_ had a
view; as of things both Ancient and Modern; together with Prophecies
and Predictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both
to the dread and amazement of Enemies, and the comfort and solace of
Pilgrims.
The next day they took him and had him into the Armory, where they
shewed him all manner of Furniture, which their Lord had provided for
Pilgrims, as Sword, Shield, Helmet, Brestplate, _All-prayer_, and
Shooes that would not wear out. And there was here enough of this to
harness out as many men for the service of their Lord as there be
Stars in the Heaven for multitude.
They also shewed him some of the Engines with which some of his
Servants had done wonderful things. They shewed him _Moses'_ Rod; the
Hammer and Nail with which _Jael_ slew _Sisera_; the Pitchers,
Trumpets, and Lamps too, with which _Gideon_ put to flight the Armies
of _Midian_. Then they shewed him the Oxes goad wherewith _Shamger_
slew six hundred men. They shewed him also the Jaw-bone with which
_Samson_ did such mighty feats. They shewed him moreover the Sling and
Stone with which _David_ slew _Goliath_ of _Gath_; and the Sword also
with which their Lord will kill the Man of Sin, in the day that he
shall rise up to the prey. They shewed him besides many excellent
things, with which _Christian_ was much delighted. This done, they
went to their rest again.
Then I saw in my Dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forwards,
but they desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said
they, we will (if the day be clear) shew you the Delectable Mountains,
which, they said, would yet further add to his comfort, because they
were nearer the desired Haven then the place where at present he was.
So he consented and staid. When the morning was up, they had him to
the top of the House, and bid him look South; so he did: and behold at
a great distance he saw a most pleasant Mountainous Country,
beautified with Woods, Vinyards, Fruits of all sorts, Flowers also;
Springs and Fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the
name of the Country. They said it was _Immanuel's Land_; and it is as
common, said they, as this _Hill_ is, to and for all the Pilgrims. And
when thou comest there, from thence, said they, thou maist see to the
gate of the Coelestial City, as the Shepheards that live there will
make appear.
Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he
should: but first, said they, let us go again into the Armory. So they
did; and when they came there they harnessed him from head to foot
with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in
the way. He being therefore thus acoutred, walketh out with his
friends to the Gate, and there he asked the Porter if he saw any
Pilgrims pass by. Then the Porter answered, Yes.
[Illustration: NOW HE BETHOUGHT HIMSELF OF SETTING FORWARD, AND THEY
WERE WILLING HE SHOULD: BUT FIRST, SAID THEY, LET US GO AGAIN INTO THE
ARMORY. SO THEY DID; AND WHEN THEY CAME THERE THEY HARNESSED HIM FROM
HEAD TO FOOT WITH WHAT WAS OF PROOF, LEST PERHAPS HE SHOULD MEET WITH
ASSAULTS IN THE WAY. HE BEING THEREFORE THUS ACOUTRED, WALKETH OUT
WITH HIS FRIENDS TO THE GATE, AND THERE HE ASKED THE PORTER IF HE SAW
ANY PILGRIMS PASS BY]
_Chr._ Pray, did you know him?
_Por._ I asked his name, and he told me it was _Faithful_.
_Chr._ O, said _Christian_, I know him; he is my Townsman, my near
Neighbour, he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you
think he may be before?
_Por._ He has got by this time below the Hill.
_Chr._ Well, said _Christian_, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and
add to all thy blessings much increase, for the kindness that thou
hast shewed to me.
Then he began to go forward; but _Discretion_, _Piety_, _Charity_, and
_Prudence_ would accompany him down to the foot of the Hill. So they
went on together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came
to go down the Hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult coming
up, so (so far as I can see) it is dangerous going down. Yes, said
_Prudence_, so it is, for it is an hard matter for a man to go down
into the Valley of _Humiliation_, as thou art now, and to catch no
slip by the way; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany
thee down the Hill. So he began to go down, but very warily; yet he
caught a slip or two.
Then I saw in my Dream that these good Companions, when _Christian_
was gone down to the bottom of the Hill, gave him a loaf of Bread, a
bottle of Wine, and a cluster of Raisins; and then he went on his way.
CHRISTIAN'S FIGHT WITH APOLLYON
_By John Bunyan_
In this Valley of _Humiliation_, poor _Christian_ was hard put up to
it; for he had gone but a little way, before he espied a foul _Fiend_
coming over the field to meet him; his name is _Apollyon_. Then did
_Christian_ begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whither to go
back or to stand his ground. But he considered again that he had no
Armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to
him might give him greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his
Darts. Therefore he resolved to venture and stand his ground. For,
thought he, had I no more in mine eye then the saving of my life, 't
would be the best way to stand.
So he went on, and _Apollyon_ met him. Now the Monster was hidious to
behold; he was cloathed with scales like a Fish (and they are his
pride); he had wings like a Dragon, and out of his belly came Fire and
Smoak; and his mouth was as the mouth of a Lion. When he was come up
to _Christian_, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus
began to question with him.
_Apol._ Whence come you? and whither are you bound?
_Chr._ I come from the City of _Destruction_, which is the place of
all evil, and am going to the City of _Zion_.
_Apol._ By this I perceive thou art one of my Subjects, for all that
Country is mine, and I am the Prince and God of it. How is it then
that thou hast run away from thy king? Were it not that I hope thou
maiest do me more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the
ground.
_Chr._ I was born indeed in your dominions, but your service was hard,
and your wages such as a man could not live on, _for the Wages of Sin
is death_; therefore when I was come to years, I did as other
considerate persons do, look out, if perhaps I might mend myself.
_Apol_ There is no Prince that will thus lightly lose his Subjects,
neither will I as yet lose thee: but since thou complainest of thy
service and wages, be content to go back; what our Country will
afford, I do here promise to give thee.
_Chr._ But I have let myself to another, even to the King of Princes,
and how can I with fairness go back with thee?
_Apol._ Thou hast done in this, according to the Proverb, changed a
bad for a worse; but it is ordinary for those that have professed
themselves his Servants, after a while to give him the slip, and
return again to me: do thou so too, and all shall be well.
_Chr._ I have given him my faith, and sworn my Allegiance to him; how
then can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a Traitor?
_Apol._ Thou diddest the same to me, and yet I am willing to pass by
all, if now thou will turn again and go back.
_Chr._ What I promised thee was in my nonage; and besides, I count
that the Prince under whose Banner now I stand is able to absolve me;
yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee; and
besides, O thou destroying _Apollyon_, to speak truth, I like his
Service, his Wages, his Servants, his Government, his Company and
Country, better than thine; and therefore leave off to perswade me
further; I am his Servant, and I will follow him.
_Apol._ Consider again when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like
to meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that for the
most part, his Servants come to an ill end, because they are
transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put
to shameful deaths; and besides, thou countest his service better than
mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where he is to deliver
any that served him out of our hands; but as for me, how many times,
as all the World very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or
fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though
taken by them; and so I will deliver thee.
_Chr._ His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try
their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end; and as for the
ill end thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their
account; for, for present deliverance, they do not much expect it, for
they stay for their Glory, and then they shall have it, when their
Prince comes in his and the Glory of the Angels.
_Apol._ Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him, and
how dost thou think to receive wages of him?
_Chr._ Wherein, O _Apollyon_, have I been unfaithful to him?
_Apol._ Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost
choked in the Gulf of _Dispond_; thou diddest attempt wrong ways to be
rid of thy Burden, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince
had taken it off; thou didst sinfully sleep and lose thy choice thing;
thou wast also almost perswaded to go back, at the sight of the Lions;
and when thou talkest of thy Journey, and of what thou hast heard and
seen, thou art inwardly desirous of vainglory in all that thou sayest
or doest.
_Chr._ All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but
the Prince whom I serve and honour is merciful, and ready to forgive;
but besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy Country, for there
I sucked them in, and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them,
and have obtained pardon of my Prince.
_Apol._ Then _Apollyon_ broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am
an enemy to this Prince; I hate his Person, his Laws, and People; I am
come out on purpose to withstand thee.
_Chr._ _Apollyon_, beware what you do, for I am in the King's
High-way, the way of Holiness, therefore take heed to yourself.
_Apol._ Then _Apollyon_ strodled quite over the whole breadth of the
way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter, prepare thyself to
dye; for I swear thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul.
And with that he threw a flaming Dart at his brest, but _Christian_
had a Shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented
the danger of that.
Then did _Christian_ draw, for he saw 'twas time to bestir him: and
_Apollyon_ as fast made at him, throwing Darts as thick as Hail; by
the which, notwithstanding all that _Christian_ could do to avoid it,
_Apollyon_ wounded him in his _head_, his _hand_, and _foot_. This
made _Christian_ give a little back; _Apollyon_ therefore followed his
work amain, and _Christian_ again took courage, and resisted as
manfully as he could. This sore Combat lasted for above half a day,
even till _Christian_ was almost quite spent. For you must know that
_Christian_, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and
weaker.
Then _Apollyon_ espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to
_Christian_, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and
with that _Christian's_ Sword flew out of his hand. Then said
_Apollyon_, _I am sure of thee now_: and with that he had almost prest
him to death, so that _Christian_ began to despair of life. But as God
would have it, while _Apollyon_ was fetching of his last blow, thereby
to make a full end of this good Man, _Christian_ nimbly reached out
his hand for his Sword, and caught it, saying, _Rejoyce not against
me, O mine Enemy! when I fall I shall arise_; and with that gave him a
deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his
mortal wound: _Christian_ perceiving that, made at him again, saying,
_Nay, in all these things we are more then Conquerours_. And with that
_Apollyon_ spread forth his Dragon's wings, and sped him away, that
_Christian_ for a season saw him no more.
In this Combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I
did, what yelling and hideous roaring _Apollyon_ made all the time of
the fight; he spake like a Dragon: and on the other side, what sighs
and groans brast from _Christian's_ heart. I never saw him all the
while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had
wounded _Apollyon_ with his two-edged Sword; then indeed he did smile,
and look upward; but 'twas the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.
So when the Battel was over, _Christian_ said, I will here give thanks
to him that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the Lion, to him
that did help me against _Apollyon_. And so he did, saying,--
"Great _Beelzebub_, the Captain of this Fiend,
Design'd my ruin; therefore to this end
He sent him harnest out: and he with rage
That hellish was, did fiercely me ingage:
But blessed _Michael_ helped me, and I
By dint of Sword did quickly make him fly.
Therefore to him let me give lasting praise,
And thank and bless his holy name always."
Then there came to him an hand, with some of the leaves of the Tree of
Life, the which _Christian_ took, and applyed to the wounds that he
had received in the Battel, and was healed immediately. He also sat
down in that place to eat Bread, and to drink of the Bottle that was
given him a little before; so being refreshed, he addressed himself to
his Journey, with his Sword drawn in his hand; for he said, I know not
but some other Enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront
from _Apollyon_ quite through this Valley.
THE CASTLE OF GIANT DESPAIR
_By John Bunyan_
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_. Now their way lay just upon the bank of the River;
here therefore _Christian_ and his Companion walked with great
delight; they drank also of the water of the River, which was pleasant
and enlivening to their weary spirits: besides, on the banks of this
River on either side were green Trees, that bore all manner of Fruit;
and the Leaves of the Trees were good for Medicine; with the Fruit of
these Trees they were also much delighted; and the Leaves they eat to
prevent Surfeits, and other Diseases that are incident to those that
heat their blood by Travels. On either side of the River was also a
Meadow, curiously beautified with Lilies; and it was green all the
year long. In this Meadow they lay down and slept, for here they might
lie down safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the Fruit of
the Trees, and drank again of the water of the River, and then lay
down again to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they
sang,--
"Behold ye how these Christal streams do glide,
(To comfort Pilgrims) by the High-way 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 eat and drank, and departed.
Now I beheld in my Dream, that they had not journied 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 soul of the Pilgrims was much discouraged because of the way_.
Wherefore still as they went on, they wished for better way. Now a
little before them, there was on the left hand of the road a Meadow,
and a Stile to go over into it, and that Meadow is called
_Bypath-Meadow._ Then said _Christian_ to his fellow, If this Meadow
lieth along by our way-side, let's go over into it. Then he went to
the Stile to see, and behold a Path lay along by the way on the other
side of the fence. 'Tis according to my wish, said _Christian_, here
is the easiest going; come, good _Hopeful_, and let us go over.
_Hope._ But how if this Path should lead us out of the way?
_Chr._ That's not like, said the other; look, doth it not go along by
the way-side? So _Hopeful_, being perswaded by his fellow, went after
him over the Stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the
Path, they found it very easie 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 Coelestial Gate. Look, said
_Christian_, did I not tell you so? By this you may see we are right.
So they followed, and he went before them. But behold the night came
on, and it grew very dark, so that they that were behind lost the
sight of him that went before.
He therefore that went before (_Vain-confidence_ by name), not seeing
the way before him, fell into a deep Pit, which was on purpose there
made by the Prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools
withall, and was dashed in pieces with his fall.
Now _Christian_ and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know
the matter, but there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning.
Then said _Hopeful_, Where are we now? Then was his fellow silent as
mistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to
rain, and thunder, and lighten in a very dreadful manner, and the
water rose amain.
Then _Hopeful_ groaned in himself, saying, Oh 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't at very first, and therefore gave you that
gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older
then I.
_Chr._ Good Brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee
out of the way, and that I have put thee into such eminent danger;
pray, my Brother, forgive me, I did not do it of an evil intent.
_Hope._ Be comforted, my Brother, for I forgive thee; and believe too
that this shall be for our good.
_Chr._ I am glad I have with me a merciful Brother; but we must not
stand thus, let's 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 _Let thine heart be
towards the Highway, even the way that thou wentest, turn again_. 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 liked to have been drowned
nine or ten times.
Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the
Stile that night. Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter,
they sat down there till the day brake; but being weary, they fell
asleep. Now there was not far from the place where they lay, a Castle
called _Doubting_ Castle, the owner whereof was Giant _Despair_, and
it was in his grounds they now were sleeping: wherefore he, getting up
in the morning early, and walking up and down in his Fields, caught
_Christian_ and _Hopeful_ asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and
surly voice he bid them awake, and asked them whence they were? and
what they did in his grounds? They told him they were Pilgrims, and
that they had lost their way. Then said the Giant, You have this night
trespassed on me, by trampling in and lying on my grounds, and
therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go,
because he was stronger then they. They also had but little to say,
for they knew themselves in a fault. The Giant therefore drove them
before him, and put them into his Castle, into a very dark Dungeon,
nasty and stinking to the spirits of these two men. Here then they lay
from _Wednesday_ morning till _Saturday_ night, without one bit of
bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they
were therefore here in evil case, and were far from friends and
acquaintance. Now in this place _Christian_ had double sorrow, because
'twas through his unadvised haste that they were brought into this
distress.
[Illustration: NOW THERE WAS NOT FAR FROM THE PLACE WHERE THEY LAY, A
CASTLE CALLED DOUBTING CASTLE, THE OWNER WHEREOF WAS GIANT DESPAIR....
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 THAT THEY WERE
PILGRIMS, AND THAT THEY HAD LOST THEIR WAY. THEN SAID THE GIANT, YOU
HAVE THIS NIGHT TRESPASSED ON ME]
Now Giant _Despair_ had a Wife and her name was _Diffidence_. So when
he was gone to bed, he told his Wife what he had done, to wit, that he
had taken a couple of Prisoners and cast them into his Dungeon, for
trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best 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 gave him never 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 chuse life, seeing it
is attended with so much bitterness? But they desired him to let them
go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and rushing to them had
doubtless made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of
his Fits (for he sometimes in Sunshine weather fell into Fits) and
lost for a time the use of his hand; wherefore he withdrew, and left
them as before, to consider what to do. Then did the Prisoners consult
between themselves, whether 'twas 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 chuseth strangling rather than
life_, and the Grave is more easy for me than this Dungeon. Shall we
be ruled by the Giant?