CHAPTER XI.

[Sidenote: BEULAH LAND]

Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pilgrims were got over the

Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was

very sweet and pleasant: the way lying directly through it, they enjoyed

themselves there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually the

singing of birds and saw every day the flowers appear on the earth, and

heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun

shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the

Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither

could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they

were within sight of the City they were going to; also here met them

some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones

commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. Here they

had no want of corn and wine; for in this place they met with abundance

of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage. Here they heard

voices from out of the City, loud voices, saying, "Say ye to the

daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh! Behold, His reward is

with Him!" Here all the inhabitants of the country called them "The holy

people, and redeemed of the Lord, sought out," etc.

Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts

more remote from the kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near

to the City, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of

pearls and precious stones, also the streets thereof were paved with

gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the City, and the

reflection of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick;

Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease, wherefore here they

lay by it awhile, crying out because of their pangs, "If you see my

Beloved tell Him that I am sick of love."

But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness,

they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were

orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the

highway. Now, as they came up to these places, behold, the gardener,

stood in the way; to whom the pilgrims said, "Whose goodly vineyards and

gardens are these?" He answered, "They are the King's, and are planted

here for His own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims." So the

gardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves

with the dainties. He also showed them there the King's walks, and the

arbors where He delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept.

Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this

time than ever they did in all their journey; and being in thought

thereabout, the gardener said even to me, "Wherefore dost thou meditate

at the matter? It is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these

vineyards to go down so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are

asleep to speak."

So I saw, when they awoke they undertook to go up to the City. But, as I

said, the reflection of the sun upon the City (for the City was pure

gold) was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open

face behold it, but through a glass made for that purpose. So I saw

that, as they went on, there met them two men in raiment that shone like

gold, also their faces shone as the light.

These men asked the pilgrims whence they came; and they told them. They

also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers,

what comforts and pleasures, they had met in the way; and they told

them. Then said the men that met them, "You have but two difficulties

more to meet with, and then you are in the City."

Christian, then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them;

so they told them that they would. "But," said they, "you must obtain it

by your own faith." So I saw in my dream that they went on together till

they came in sight of the gate.

[Sidenote: A RIVER INTERVENES]

Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river; but there

was no bridge to go over, and the river was very deep. At the sight,

therefore, of this river, the pilgrims were much stunned; but the men

that went with them said, "You must go through, or you cannot come at

the gate."

The pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the

gate; to which they answered, "Yes; but there hath not any save two, to

wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path since the

foundation of the world, nor shall until the last trumpet shall sound."

The pilgrims then, especially Christian, began to be anxious in his

mind, and looked this way and that; but no way could be found by them by

which they might escape the river. Then they asked the men if the waters

were all of a depth. They said, "No," yet they could not help them in

that case; "for," said they, "you shall find it deeper or shallower as

you believe in the King of the place."

They then addressed themselves to the water; and, entering, Christian

began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, "I

sink in deep waters; the billows go over my head; all His waves go over

me."

Then said the other, "Be of good cheer, my brother; I feel the bottom,

and it is good." Then said Christian, "Ah! my friend, the sorrows of

death have compassed me about; I shall not see the land that flows with

milk and honey." And with that, a great darkness and horror fell upon

Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in a great

measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember nor orderly

talk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way

of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to show

that he had horror of mind, and heart-fears that he should die in that

river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that

stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins

that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim.

It was also observed that he was troubled with the sight of demons and

evil spirits; for ever and anon he would intimate so much by words.

Hopeful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above

water; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while

he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful would also endeavor to comfort

him, saying, "Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive

us;" but Christian would answer, "It is you, it is you they wait for:

you have been hopeful ever since I knew you." "And so have you," said he

to Christian. "Ah, brother," said he, "surely, if I were right, He would

now arise to help me; but for my sins He hath brought me into this

snare, and hath left me." Then said Hopeful, "My brother, these troubles

and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God

hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to

mind that which hitherto you have received of His goodness, and live

upon Him in your distresses."

Then I saw in my dream that Christian was in thought awhile. To whom

also Hopeful added these words, "Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh

thee whole." And, with that, Christian brake out with a loud voice, "Oh,

I see Him again; and He tells me, 'When thou passest through the waters,

I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow

thee.'" Then they both took courage; and the enemy was, after that, as

still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian, therefore,

presently found ground to stand upon; and so it followed that the rest

of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over.

[Sidenote: TWO SHINING MEN]

Now, upon the bank of the river, on the other side, they saw the two

Shining Men again, who there waited for them. Wherefore, being come out

of the river, they saluted them, saying, "We are heavenly spirits, sent

forth to help those that shall be heirs of salvation." Thus they went

along towards the gate. Now, you must note that the City stood upon a

mighty hill; but the pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they

had these two men to lead them up by the arms; also they had left their

mortal garments behind them in the river; for though they went in with

them, they came out without them. They therefore went up here with much

activity and speed, though the foundation upon which the City was framed

was higher than the clouds. They therefore went up through the regions

of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted because they

had safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to

attend them.

[Sidenote: MOUNT ZION]

The talk they had with the Shining Ones, was about the glory of the

place; who told them that the beauty and glory of it were such as could

not be put into words. "There," said they, "is the Mount Zion, the

heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits

of good men made perfect. You are going now," said they, "to the

Paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the

never-fading fruits thereof; and when you come there, you shall have

white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with

the King, even all the days of an eternal life. There you shall not see

again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the

earth; to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death; 'for the former

things are passed away.' You are going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and to

Jacob, and to the prophets, men that God hath taken away from the evil

to come, and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in

his righteousness." The men then asked, "What must we do in the holy

place?" To whom it was answered, "You must there receive the comfort of

all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you must reap what you

have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings

for the King by the way. In that place you must wear crowns of gold,

and enjoy the perpetual sight and visions of the Holy One; for there you

shall see Him as He is. There also you shall serve Him continually with

praise, with shouting and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the

world, though with much difficulty, because of the weakness of your

bodies. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing and your ears

with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy

your friends again that are gone thither before you; and there you shall

with joy receive even every one that follows into the holy place after

you. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and put

into a state fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When He shall come

with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you

shall come with Him; and when He shall sit upon the throne of judgment,

you shall sit by Him; yea, and when He shall pass sentence upon all the

workers of evil, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice

in that judgment because they were His and your enemies. Also, when He

shall again return to the City, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet,

and be ever with Him."

Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold, a company of

the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom it was said by the

other two Shining Ones, "These are the men that have loved our Lord when

in the world, and that have left all for His holy name; and He hath

sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their

desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face

with joy." Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, "Blessed

are they which are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb." There

came out also at this time to meet them several of the King's

trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment who, with melodious

noises and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These

trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes

from the world; and this they did with shouting and sound of trumpet.

[Sidenote: THE CELESTIAL CITY]

This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before,

some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left (as it were to

guard them through the upper regions), continually sounding as they

went, with melodious noise, in notes on high: so that the very sight was

to them that could behold it as if heaven itself was come down to meet

them. Thus, therefore, they walked on together; and, as they walked,

ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would, by mixing

their music, with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his

brother how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness

they came to meet them. And now were these two men as it were in heaven

before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and

with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they had the City

itself in view, and thought they heard all the bells therein to ring,

and welcome them thereto. But, above all, the warm and joyful thoughts

that they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that

for ever and ever, oh! by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be

expressed?

And thus they came up to the gate. Now, when they were come up to the

gate, there was written over it in letters of gold, "BLESSED ARE THEY

THAT DO HIS COMMANDMENTS, THAT THEY MAY HAVE RIGHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE,

AND MAY ENTER IN THROUGH THE GATES INTO THE CITY."

Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men bid them call at the gate:

the which when they did, some from above looked over the gate: such as

Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, and others, to whom it was said, "These

pilgrims are come from the City of Destruction, for the love that they

bear to the King of this place." And then the pilgrims gave in unto them

each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning;

those therefore were carried in to the King, who, when He had read them,

said, "Where are the men?" To whom it was answered, "They are standing

without the gate." The King then commanded to open the gate, "that the

righteous nation," said He, "which keepeth the truth, may enter in."

Now, I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate; and lo!

as they entered, their looks were changed so that their faces became

bright; and they had garments put on that shone like gold. There were

also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave them to them--the

harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honor. Then I heard

in my dream that all the bells in the City rang again for joy, and that

it was said unto them, "Enter ye into the joy of your Lord." I also

heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying,

"Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth

upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever!"

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after

them, and behold, the City shone like the sun; the streets also were

paved with gold; and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads,

palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal.

There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another

without ceasing, saying, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!" And, after

that, they shut up the gates; which when I had seen, I wished myself

among them.

[Sidenote: IGNORANCE FAILS TO ENTER]

Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look

back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river-side; but he soon got over,

and that without half the difficulty which the other two men met with.

For it happened that there was then in the place one Vain-Hope, a

ferryman, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the others I

saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate; only he came alone,

neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was

come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and

then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly

given to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of

the gate, "Whence came you? and what would you have?" He answered, "I

have eaten and drunk in the presence of the King, and He has taught in

our streets." Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might

go in and show it to the King: so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and

found none. Then said they, "Have you none?" But the man answered never

a word. So they told the King; but He would not come down to see him,

but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful

to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot,

and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the

air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in

there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of

heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction!

* * * * *

So I awoke, and behold, it was a dream.

CONCLUSION.

Now, reader, I have told my dream to thee,

See if thou canst interpret it to me,

Or to thyself or neighbor; but take heed

Of misinterpreting; for that, instead

Of doing good, will but thyself abuse:

By misinterpreting, evil ensues.

Take heed also that thou be not extreme

In playing with the outside of my dream;

Nor let my figure or similitude

Put thee into a laughter or a feud.

Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee,

Do thou the substance of my matter see.

Put by the curtains, look within my veil;

Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail,

There, if thou seekest them, such things to find

As will be helpful to an honest mind.

What of my dross thou findest there, be bold

To throw away; but yet preserve the gold.

What if my gold be wrapped up in ore?--

None throws away the apple for the core.

But if thou shalt cast all away as vain,

I know not but t'will make me dream again.

THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

COURTEOUS COMPANIONS,--

Some time since, to tell you my dream that I had of Christian the

Pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey towards the Celestial Country, was

pleasant to me and profitable to you. I told you then, also, what I saw

concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling they were to go with

him on pilgrimage, insomuch that he was forced to go on his progress

without them; for he durst not run the danger of that destruction which

he feared would come by staying with them in the City of Destruction;

wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them and departed.

Now, it hath so happened, through the abundance of business, that I have

been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts

whence he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to

make further inquiry after those whom he left behind, that I might give

you an account of them. But, having had some concerns that way of late,

I went down again thitherward. Now, having taken up my lodgings in a

wood about a mile off the place, as I slept I dreamed again.

[Sidenote: THE AUTHOR AND MR. SAGACITY]

And as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentleman came by where I lay;

and, because he was to go some part of the way that I was travelling,

methought I got up and went with him. So, as we walked, and as travelers

usually do, I was as if we fell into discourse; and our talk happened to

be about Christian and his travels; for thus I began with the old man:

"Sir," said I, "what town is that there below, that lieth on the left

hand of our way?"

Then said Mr. Sagacity (for that was his name), "It is the City of

Destruction; a populous place, but possessed with a very ill-conditioned

and idle sort of people."

"I thought that was that city," quoth I: "I went once myself through

that town, and therefore know that this report you give of it is true."

SAG. Too true! I wish I could speak truth in speaking better of them

that dwell therein.

"Well, sir," quoth I, "then I perceive you to be a well-meaning man, and

so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good. Pray,

did you never hear what happened to a man some time ago of this town

(whose name was Christian), that went on pilgrimage up towards the

higher regions?"

SAG. Hear of him! Ay, and I also heard of the difficulties, troubles,

wars, captivities, cries, groans, frights and fears that he met with and

had in his journey. Besides, I must tell you all our country rings of

him: there are but few houses that have heard of him and his doings but

have sought after and got the record of his pilgrimage. Yea, I think I

may say that his hazardous journey has got many wellwishers to his ways;

for though, when he was here, he was a fool in every man's mouth, yet

now he is gone he is highly commended of all. For 'tis said he lives

bravely where he is: yea, many of them that are resolved never to run

his risks yet have their mouths water at his gains.

"They may," quoth I, "well think, if they think anything that is true,

that he liveth well where he is; for he now lives at and in the Fountain

of Life, and has what he has without labor and sorrow; for there is no

grief mixed therewith. But, pray, what talk have the people about him?"

SAG. Talk! the people talk strangely about him: some say that he now

walks in white; that he has a chain of gold about his neck; that he has

a crown of gold beset with pearls upon his head. Others say that the

Shining Ones, that sometimes showed themselves unto him in his journey,

are become his companions, and that he is as familiar with them in the

place where he is, as here one neighbor is with another. Besides, it is

confidently spoken concerning him, that the King of the place where he

is has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at

court, and that he every day eateth and drinketh and walketh with Him,

and receiveth of the smiles and favors of Him that is judge of all

there. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of

that country, will shortly come into these parts, and will know the

reason, if they can give any, why his neighbors set so little by him,

and had him so much in derision, when they perceived that he would be a

Pilgrim. For they say, now he is so in the affections of his Prince, and

that his Sovereign is so much concerned with the wrongs that were cast

upon Christian when he became a Pilgrim, that He will look upon all as

if done unto Himself; and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had

to his Prince that he ventured as he did.

[Sidenote: SAGACITY TELLS OF CHRISTIANA]

"I daresay," quoth I; "I am glad on't; I am glad for the poor man's

sake, for that he now has rest from his labor, and for that he reapeth

the benefit of his tears with joy, and for that he has got beyond

gunshot of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hate him. I

also am glad for that a rumor of these things is noised abroad in this

country: who can tell but that it may work some good effect on some that

are left behind? But pray, sir, while it is fresh in my mind, do you

hear anything of his wife and children? Poor hearts! I wonder in my mind

what they do."

SAG. Who? Christiana and her sons? They are like to do as well as did

Christian himself; for, though they all played the fool at first, and

would by no means be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of

Christian, yet, second thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them, so

they have packed up, and are also gone after him.

"Better and better," quoth I: "but, what! wife and children and all?"

SAG. It is true: I can give you an account of the matter, for I was upon

the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole

affair.

"Then," said I, "a man, it seems, may report it for a truth?"

SAG. You need not fear to declare it. I mean, that they are all gone on

pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four boys. And, since (we are,

as I perceive) going some considerable way together, I will give you an

account of the whole matter.

This Christiana (for that was her name from the day that she, with her

children betook themselves to a pilgrim's life) after her husband had

gone over the river, and she could hear of him no more, her thoughts

began to work in her mind. First, for that she had lost her husband, and

of that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt

them. For you know (said he to me) it is only natural that the living

should have many sad thoughts, in the remembrance of the loss of loving

relations. This, therefore, of her husband, did cost her many a tear.

But this was not all; for Christiana did also begin to consider with

herself, whether unbecoming behavior towards her husband was not one

cause that she saw him no more, and that in such sort he was taken away

from her. And, upon this, came into her mind, by swarms, all her unkind,

unnatural, and ungodly treatment of her dear friend; which also troubled

her conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was, moreover, much

broken with recalling to remembrance the restless groans, brinish tears,

and self-bemoanings of her husband, and how she did harden her heart

against all his entreaties and loving persuasions of her and her sons to

go with him; yea, there was not anything that Christian either said to

her or did before her, all the while that his burden did hang on his

back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent her

heart in sunder. Specially that bitter outcry of his, "What shall I do

to be saved?" did ring in her ears most dolefully.

Then said she to her children, "Sons, we are all undone. I have sinned

away your father, and he is gone; he would have had us with him, but I

would not go myself; I also have hindered you of life."

With that, the boys fell all into tears, and cried out to go after their

father.

"Oh," said Christiana, "that it had been but our lot to go with him!

then had it fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now. For

though I formerly foolishly imagined, concerning the troubles of your

father, that they came from a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he

was overrun with melancholy humors; yet now it will not out of my mind

but that they sprang from another cause; and it was this, that the light

of life was given him, by the help of which, as I perceive, he has

escaped the snares of death."

[Sidenote: OF CHRISTIANA'S DREAM]

Then they all wept again, and cried out, "Oh, woe worth the day!"

The next night Christiana had a dream; and, behold, she saw as if a

broad parchment were opened before her, in which were recorded the sum

of her ways; and the times, as she thought, looked very black upon her.

Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, "Lord, have mercy upon me a

sinner!" and the little children heard her.

After this, she thought she saw two very ill-favored ones standing by

her bed-side, and saying, "What shall we do with this woman? for she

cries out for mercy waking and sleeping: if she be suffered to go on as

she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. Wherefore we

must, by one way or other, seek to take her off from the thoughts of

what shall be hereafter; else, all the world cannot help but she will

become a pilgrim."

Now she awoke in a great sweat; also a trembling was upon her; but after

a while, she fell to sleeping again. And then she thought she saw

Christian her husband in a place of bliss, among many immortals, with a

harp in his hand, standing and playing upon it before One that sat upon

a throne, with a rainbow about His head.

She saw, also, as if he bowed his head with his face to the paved work

that was under the Prince's feet, saying, "I heartily thank my Lord and

King for bringing of me into this place." Then shouted a company of them

that stood round about, and harped with their harps; but no man living

could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions.

Next morning, when she was up, and had prayed to God and talked with her

children a while, one knocked hard at the door; to whom she spake out,

saying, "If thou comest in God's name, come in." So he said, "Amen," and

opened the door, and saluted her with "Peace be to this house!" The

which, when he had done, he said, "Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I

am come?" Then she blushed and trembled, also her heart began to wax

warm with desires to know from whence he came, and what was his errand

to her. So he said unto her, "My name is Secret: I dwell with those that

are on high. It is talked of where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to

go thither; also there is a report that thou art aware of the evil thou

hast formerly done to thy husband, in hardening thy heart against his

way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their ignorance. Christiana,

the Merciful One hath sent me to tell thee, that He is a God ready to

forgive, and that He taketh delight to pardon offences. He also would

have thee know that He inviteth thee to come into His presence, to His

table, and that He will feed thee with the fat of His house, and with

the heritage of Jacob thy father.

"There is Christian, thy husband that was, with legions more, his

companions, ever behold that face that doth minister life to beholders;

and they will be glad when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step

over thy Father's threshold."

[Sidenote: CHRISTIANA IS SENT FOR]

Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bowed her head to

the ground.

This visitor proceeded, and said, "Christiana, here is also a letter for

thee, which I have brought from thy husband's King." So she took it, and

opened it; but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume; also it

was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter were these:

"That the King would have her to do as Christian her husband; for that

was the way to come to His City, and to dwell in His presence with joy

for ever."

At this the good woman was quite overcome; so she cried out to her

visitor, "Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we also

may worship this King?"

Then said the visitor, "Christiana, the bitter is before the sweet. Thou

must through troubles, as did he that went before thee, enter the

Celestial City. Wherefore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy

husband: go to the wicket-gate yonder over the plain, for that stands in

the head of the way up which you must go; and I wish thee all good

speed. Also I advise that thou put this letter in thy bosom, that thou

read therein to thyself, and to thy children, until you have got it by

rote of heart: for it is one of the songs that thou must sing while thou

art in this house of thy pilgrimage. Also this thou must deliver in at

the farther gate."

Now, I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as he told me the

story, did himself seem to be greatly affected therewith. He moreover

went on, and said:

So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus to address

herself unto them: "My sons, I have, as you may perceive, been of late

under much trouble in my soul about the death of your father: not for

that I doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now that he is

well. I have also been much affected with the thoughts of mine own state

and yours, which I verily believe is by nature miserable. My treatment

also of your father in his distress is a great load to my conscience,

for I hardened both mine own heart and yours against him, and refused to

go with him on pilgrimage.

"The thoughts of these things would now kill me outright, but for a

dream which I had last night, and but for the encouragement that this

stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up,

and be gone to the gate that leads to the Celestial Country, that we may

see your father, and be with him and his companions in peace, according

to the laws of that land."

Then did her children burst out into tears, for joy that the heart of

their mother was so inclined. So their visitor bade them farewell; and

they began to prepare to set out for their journey.

[Sidenote: MRS. TIMOROUS AND CHRISTIANA]

But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the women that were

Christiana's neighbors came up to the house, and knocked at the door.

To whom she said as before, "if you come in God's name, come in." At

this the women were stunned; for this kind of language they used not to

hear, or to perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. Yet they came

in; but, behold they found the good woman preparing to be gone from her

house.

So they began, and said, "Neighbor, pray what is your meaning by this?"

Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs.

Timorous, "I am preparing for a journey."

This Timorous was daughter to him that met Christian upon the Hill

Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.

TIM. For what journey, I pray you?

CHR. Even to go after my good husband. And with that she fell a weeping.

TIM. I hope not so, good neighbor. Pray, for your poor children's sake,

do not so unwomanly cast away yourself.

CHR. Nay, my children shall go with me; not one of them is willing to

stay behind.

TIM. I wonder in my very heart what or who has brought you into this

mind!

CHR. Oh, neighbor, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that

you would go with me.

TIM. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got that so worketh off thy

mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where?

CHR. Then Christiana replied, "I have been sorely afflicted since my

husband's departure from me, but especially since he went over the

river. But that which troubleth me most is my unkind treatment of him

when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then:

nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a-dreaming last

night that I saw him. Oh that my soul was with him! He dwelleth in the

presence of the King of the country; he sits and eats with Him at His

table; he has become a companion of immortals, and has a house now given

him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem

to me but as a dunghill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me,

with promises of entertainment if I shall come to Him; His messenger was

here even now, and has brought me a letter which invites me to come."

And with that she plucked out the letter, and read it, and said to them,

"What now will you say to this?"

[Sidenote: MERCY ALSO DESIRES TO GO]

TIM. Oh, the madness that hath possessed thee and thy husband, to run

yourselves upon such difficulties! You have heard, I am sure, what your

husband did meet with, even in a manner at the first step that he took

on his way, as our neighbor Obstinate can yet testify, for he went along

with them, yea, and Pliable too; until they, like wise men, were afraid

to go any farther. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the

lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the

danger he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten by thee. For if he,

though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor

woman, do? Consider also that these four sweet babes are thy children,

thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as

to cast away thyself, yet, for the sake of thy children, keep thou at

home.

But Christiana said unto her, "Tempt me not, my neighbor. I have now a

price put into my hands to get gain, and I should be a fool of the

greatest size if I should have no heart to strike in with the

opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles which I am

like to meet with in the way, they are so far off from being to me a

discouragement, that they show I am in the right. The bitter must come

before the sweet, and that also will make the sweet the sweeter.

Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I

pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet me further."

Then Timorous reviled her, and said to her fellow, "Come, neighbor

Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, since she scorns our counsel

and company." But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply

with her neighbor, and that for a twofold reason. 1. Her heart yearned

over Christiana; so she said within herself, "If my neighbor will needs

be gone, I will go a little way with her, and help her." 2. Her heart

yearned over her own soul; for what Christiana had said had taken hold

upon her mind. Wherefore she said within herself again, "I will yet have

more talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and life in what she

shall say, myself, with my heart, shall also go with her." Wherefore

Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbor Timorous:

MER. Neighbor, I did indeed come with you to see Christiana this

morning; and since she is, as you see, taking her last farewell of her

country, I think to walk this sunshiny morning a little with her, to

help her on her way.

But she told her not of the second reason, but kept that to herself.

TIM. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fooling too; but take heed in

time, and be wise. While we are out of danger, we are out; but when we

are in, we are in.

So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to

her journey. But when Timorous was got home to her house, she sends for

some of her neighbors; to wit, Mrs. Bat's-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs.

Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. So, when they were come to her house,

she falls to telling of the story of Christiana and of her intended

journey. And thus she began her tale:

[Sidenote: MRS. TIMOROUS' NEIGHBORS]

TIM. Neighbors, having had little to do this morning, I went to give

Christiana a visit; and when I came at the door, I knocked, as you know

it is our custom; and she answered, "If you come in God's name come in."

So in I went, thinking all was well; but when I came in I found her

preparing herself to depart the town, she and also her children. So I

asked her what was her meaning by that. And she told me, in short, that

she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told

me also a dream that she had, and how the King of the country where her

husband was had sent her an inviting letter to come thither.

Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, "And, what! do you think she will go?"

TIM. Ay, go she will, whatever comes on't; and methinks I know it by

this: for that which was my great reason in persuading her to stay at

home (that is, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one

great reason with her to put her forward on her journey. For she told

me, in so many words, "The bitter goes before the sweet; yea, and

forasmuch as it so doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter."

MRS. BAT'S-EYES. "Oh, this blind and foolish woman!" said she; "will she

not take warning by her husband's trials? For my part, I see, if he were

here again, he would rest him content in a whole skin, and never run so

many dangers for nothing."

Mrs. Inconsiderate also replied, saying, "Away with such fantastical

fools from the town! a good riddance, for my part, I say, of her! Should

she stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could live

quietly by her? for she will either be dumpish, or unneighborly, or

talk of such matters as no wise body can abide. Wherefore, for my part,

I shall never be sorry for her departure: let her go, and let better

come in her room. It was never a good world since these whimsical fools

dwelt in it."

Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth: "Come, put this kind of talk

away. I was yesterday at Madam Wanton's, where we were as merry as the

maids. For who do you think should be there, but I and Mrs.

Love-the-Flesh, and three or four more, with Mr. Lechery, Mrs. Filth,

and some others. So there we had music and dancing, and what else was

meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an

admirable well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a

fellow."

CHAPTER II.

THE WICKET-GATE.

By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with

her. So as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to

discourse. "And, Mercy," said Christiana, "I take this as an unexpected

favor, that thou shouldest set forth out of doors with me, to accompany

me a little in my way."

MER. Then said young Mercy (for she was but young), "If I thought it

would be a good purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town

any more."

CHR. "Well, Mercy," said Christiana, "cast in thy lot with me: I well

know what will be the end of our pilgrimage: my husband is where he

would not but be for all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou

be turned away, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King who

hath sent for me and my children is One that delighteth in mercy.

Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me

as my servant; yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and

me, only go along with me."

MER. But how shall I be sure that I also shall be welcomed? Had I this

hope but from one that can tell, I would have no hesitation at all, but

would go, being helped by Him that can help, though the way be never so

tedious.

CHR. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do: go with me

to the wicket-gate, and there I will further inquire for thee; and if

there thou dost not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou

shalt return to thy place: I also will pay thee for thy kindness which

thou showest to me and my children, in the accompanying of us in our way

as thou dost.

[Sidenote: MERCY GOES WITH CHRISTIANA]

MER. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall follow; and the

Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of heaven shall

have His heart upon me!

Christiana was then glad at her heart, not only that she had a

companion, but also for that she had prevailed with this poor maid to

fall in love with her own salvation. So they went on together and Mercy

began to weep.

Then said Christiana, "Wherefore weepeth my sister so?"

MER. "Alas!" said she, "who can but lament, that shall but rightly

consider what a state and condition my poor relations are in, that yet

remain in our sinful town? And that which makes my grief the more heavy

is, because they have no one to teach them nor to tell them what is to

come."

CHR. Tenderness becometh pilgrims; and thou dost for thy friends as my

good Christian did for me when he left me: he mourned for that I would

not heed nor regard him; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears,

and put them into His bottle; and now both I and thou, and these my

sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and benefit of them I hope, Mercy,

that these tears of thine will not be lost; for the Truth hath said that

"they that sow in tears shall reap in joy," in singing; and "he that

goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come

again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him."

Then said Mercy:

"Let the Most Blessed be my guide,

If 't be His blessed will,

Unto His gate, into His fold,

Up to His holy hill.

"And never let Him suffer me

To swerve or turn aside

From His free grace and holy ways,

Whate'er shall me betide.

"And let Him gather them of mine

That I have left behind:

Lord, make them pray they may be Thine,

With all their heart and mind."

Now my old friend proceeded, and said, "But when Christiana came to the

Slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand; 'For,' said she, 'this is

the place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with

mud.' She perceived also that, notwithstanding the command of the King

to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than

formerly." So I asked if that was true.

"Yes," said the old gentleman, "too true, for many there be that pretend

to be the King's laborers, and say they are for mending the King's

highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead

of mending. Here Christiana, therefore, with her boys, did make a stand.

But said Mercy, 'Come, let us venture, only let us be wary.' Then they

looked well to their steps, and made shift to get staggeringly over. Yet

Christiana had to have been in, and that not once nor twice.

"Now, they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words

that said unto them, 'Blessed is she that believeth, for there shall be

a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord.'

"Then they went on again; and said Mercy to Christiana, 'Had I as good

ground to hope for a loving reception at the wicket-gate as you, I think

no Slough of Despond would discourage me.'

"'Well,' said the other, 'You know your trouble, and I know mine; and,

good friend, we shall have enough evil before we come at our journey's

end. For can it be imagined that the people that design to attain such

excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as we

are, but that we shall meet with what fears, with what troubles and

afflictions they can possibly assault us with, that hate us?'"

[Sidenote: AT THE WICKET GATE]

And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore,

methought I saw Christiana, and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up

to the gate; to which when they were come they betook themselves to a

short debate about how they must manage their calling at the gate, and

what should be said unto him that did open unto them: so it was

concluded, since Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for

entrance, and that she should speak to him that did open, for the rest.

So Christiana began to knock, and, as her poor husband did, she knocked

and knocked again. But instead of any that answered, they all thought

that they heard as if a dog came barking upon them; a dog, and a great

one too: and this made the women and children afraid, nor durst they for

a while to knock any more, for fear the mastiff should fly upon them.

Now, therefore, they were greatly tumbled up and down in their minds,

and knew not what to do. Knock they durst not, for fear of the dog; go

back they durst not, for fear the keeper of the gate should espy them as

they so went, and should be offended with them. At last they thought of

knocking again, and knocked more loudly than they did at first. Then

said the Keeper of the gate, "Who is there?" So the dog left off to

bark, and He opened unto them.

Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, "Let not our Lord be

offended with His handmaidens, for that we have knocked at His princely

gate."

Then said the Keeper, "Whence come ye? and what is it that you would

have?"

Christiana answered, "We are come from whence Christian did come, and

upon the same errand as he; to wit, to be, if it shall please you,

graciously admitted by this gate into the way that leads to the

Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in the next place, that I am

Christiana, once the wife of Christian, that now is gotten above."

With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, "What! is she now

become a pilgrim, that, but a while ago hated that life?"

Then she bowed her head, and said, "Yes; and so are these my sweet babes

also."

Then He took her by the hand, and let her in, and said also, "Suffer the

little children to come unto me;" and with that He shut up the gate.

This done, He called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to

entertain Christiana with shouting and sound of trumpet for joy. So he

obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes.

Now, all this while poor Mercy did stand without trembling and crying,

for fear that she was rejected. But when Christiana had got admittance

for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy.

[Sidenote: MERCY FALLS IN A SWOON]

CHR. And she said, "My Lord, I have a companion of mine that stands yet

without, that is come hither upon the same account as myself, one that

is much troubled in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without

sending for; whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come."

Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute was as long to her

as an hour; wherefore she prevented Christiana from asking for her more

fully by knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked then so loud that

she made Christiana to start. Then said the Keeper of the gate, "Who is

there?" And said Christiana, "It is my friend."

So He opened the gate and looked out; but Mercy was fallen down without

in a swoon, for she fainted, and was afraid that no gate would be opened

to her.

Then he took her by the hand, and said, "Maiden, I bid thee arise."

"Oh, sir," said she, "I am faint: there is scarce life left in me."

But He answered that "One once said, 'When my soul fainted within me, I

remembered the Lord; and my prayer came in unto Thee, into Thy holy

temple.' Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou

art come."

MER. I am come for that unto which I was never invited, as my friend

Christiana was. Hers was from the King, and mine was but from her.

Wherefore I fear I presume.

KEEP. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place?

MER. Yes; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And if there is any grace and

forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that I, Thy poor handmaiden, may

be partaker thereof.

[Sidenote: MERCY PERMITTED TO ENTER]

Then He took her again by the hand, and led her gently in, and said, "I

pray for all them that believe on me, by what means soever they come

unto me." Then said He to those that stood by, "Fetch something, and

give it to Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting." So they

fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and a while after she was revived.

And now was Christiana and her boys and Mercy received of the Lord at

the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto by Him. Then said they yet

further unto Him, "We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord His

pardon and further information what we must do."

"I grant pardon," said He, "by word and deed: by word, in the promise of

forgiveness; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my

lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed."

Now, I saw in my dream, that He spake many good words unto them, whereby

they were greatly gladded. He also had them up to the top of the gate,

and showed them by what deed they were saved; and told them withal that

that sight they would have again as they went along the way, to their

comfort.

So He left them a while in a summer parlor below, where they entered

into a talk by themselves; and thus Christiana began:

"O Lord, how glad am I that we are got in hither!"

MER. So you well may; but I of all have cause to leap for joy.

CHR. I thought one time as I stood at the gate, because I knocked, and

none did answer, that all our labor had been lost, specially when that

ugly cur made such a heavy barking against us.

MER. But my worst fear was after I saw that you were taken into His

favor, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which

is written, "Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be

taken, and the other left." I had much ado to forbear crying out,

"Undone! undone!" And afraid I was to knock any more: but when I looked

up to what was written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought

that I must either knock again or die; so I knocked, but I cannot tell

how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death.

_Chr._ Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your knocks were so

earnest, that the very sound of them made me start. I thought I never

heard such knocking in all my life; I thought you would come in by

violent hands, or take the kingdom by storm.

_Mer._ Alas! to be in my case, who that so was could but have done so?

You saw that the door was shut upon me, and that there was a most cruel

dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, would not

have knocked with all their might? But, pray, what said my Lord to my

rudeness? Was He not angry with me?

CHR. When He heard your lumbering noise, He gave a wonderful innocent

smile; I believe what you did pleased Him well enough, for He showed no

sign to the contrary. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog;

had I known that afore, I should not have had heart enough to have

ventured myself in this manner. But now we are in, we are in, and I am

glad with all my heart.

_Mer._ I will ask, if you please, next time He comes down, why He keeps

such a filthy cur in His yard. I hope He will not take it amiss.

"Ay, do," said the children, "and persuade Him to hang him, for we are

afraid he will bite us when we go hence."

So at last He came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on

her face before Him, and worshiped, and said, "Let my Lord accept the

offering of praise which I now offer unto Him with my lips."

[Sidenote: MERCY EXPRESSES HER FEARS]

So He said unto her, "Peace be to thee; stand up." But she continued

upon her face, and said, "Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with

Thee; yet let me talk with Thee of Thy judgments. Wherefore dost Thou

keep so cruel a dog in Thy yard, at the sight of which such women and

children as we are ready to fly from the gate with fear?" He answered

and said, "That dog has another owner; he also is kept close in another

man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his barking: he belongs to the

castle which you see there at a distance, but can come up to the walls

of this place. He has frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to

better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him

doth not keep him out of any good-will to me or mine, but with intent to

keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to come

and knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out,

and has worried some that I love; but I take all at present patiently. I

also give my pilgrims timely help, so that they are not delivered up to

his power, to do with them what his doggish nature would prompt him to.

But, what! my beloved one, I should suppose, hadst thou known even so

much beforehand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars

that go from door to door will, rather than lose a supposed alms, run

the danger of the bawling, barking, and biting too, of a dog; and shall

a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of

pilgrims, keep any one from coming to me? I deliver them from the lions,

their darling from the power of the dog."

MER. Then said Mercy, "I confess my ignorance, I spake what I understood

not: I acknowledge that Thou doest all things well."

CHR. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire

after the way.

So He fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of His

steps, according as He had dealt with her husband before.

So I saw in my dream that they walked on in their way, and had the

weather very comfortable to them.

Then Christiana began to sing:

"Blessed be the day that I began

A pilgrim for to be;

And blessed also be the man

That thereto moved me.

"'Tis true 'twas long ere I began

To seek to live for ever;

But now I run fast as I can:

'Tis better late than never.

"Our tears to joy, our fears to faith,

Are turned, as we see;

Thus our beginning (as one saith)

Shows what our end will be."

Now, there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up

which Christiana and her companions were to go, a garden, and that

garden belonged to him whose was that barking dog, of whom mention was

made before. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot

their branches over the wall; and, being mellow, they that found them

did gather them up and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's

boys, as boys are apt to do, being pleased with the trees, and the fruit

that did hang thereon, did bend the branches down, and pluck the fruit,

and begin to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing; but

still the boys went on.

[Illustration: Christiana's Boys Began to Eat.

Page 231]

"Well," said she, "my sons, you do wrong, for that fruit is none of

ours;" but she did not know that it did belong to the enemy: I'll

warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But

that passed, and they went on their way.

[Sidenote: THE ILL-FAVORED ONES]

Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from the place that led

them unto the way, they espied two very ill-favored ones coming down

apace to meet them. With that, Christiana, and Mercy her friend, covered

themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey; the children

also went on before; so that, at last, they met together. Then they that

came down to meet them came just up to the women, as if they would

embrace them; but Christiana said, "Stand back, or go peaceably by, as

you should."

Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana's words,

but began to lay hands upon them. At that, Christiana, waxing very

wroth, spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could,

did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, "Stand

back, and be gone; for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you

see, and such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends."

ILL-FAVORED ONE. Then said one of the two men, "We make no assault upon

you for money, but are come out to tell you that, if you will grant one

small request which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever."

CHR. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again,

"We will neither hear nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We

are in haste, and cannot stay; our business is a business of life or

death."

So again she and her companions made a fresh attempt to go past them;

but they letted them in their way.

ILL-FAV. And they said, "We intend no hurt to your lives; it is another

thing we would have."

CHR. "Ay," quoth Christiana, "you would have us body and soul, for I

know it is for that you are come; but we will die rather upon the spot,

than to suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall risk

the loss of our well-being hereafter." And, with that, they both

shrieked out, and cried, "Murder! murder!" and so put themselves under

those laws that are provided for the protection of women. But the men

still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against

them. They therefore cried out again.

[Sidenote: A RELIEVER APPEARS]

Now, they being, as I said, far from the gate in at which they came,

their voices were heard from where they were, thither; wherefore some of

the house came out, and, knowing it was Christiana's tongue, they made

haste to her relief. But by the time that they were got within sight of

them, the women were in a very great terror; the children also stood

crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call out to the

ruffians, saying, "What is that thing you do? Would you make my Lord's

people to do wrong?" He also attempted to take them, but they did make

their escape over the wall into the garden of the man to whom the great

dog belonged; so the dog became their protector. This Reliever then came

up to the women and asked them how they did.

So they answered, "We thank thy Prince, pretty well, only we have been

somewhat affrighted: we thank thee also for that thou camest in to our

help, otherwise we had been overcome."

RELIEVER. So, after a few more words, this Reliever said as followeth:

"I marvelled much when you were entertained at the gate above, being ye

knew that ye were but weak women, that you asked not the Lord for a

conductor. Then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers; for

He would have granted you one."

CHR. "Alas!" said Christiana, "we were taken so with our present

blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us. Besides, who could

have thought that, so near the King's palace, there could have lurked

such naughty ones? Indeed, it had been well for us had we asked our Lord

for one; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder

He sent not one along with us."

REL. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest, by

so doing, they become of little value; but when the want of a thing is

felt, then he who needs it feels its preciousness; and so when it is

given it will be used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would

not either have so bewailed that oversight of yours, in not asking for

one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and

tend to make you more wary.

CHR. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask

one?

REL. Your confession of your folly I will present Him with. To go back

again you need not; for, in all places where you shall come, you will

find no want at all; for, in every one of my Lord's lodgings, which He

has prepared for the care of His pilgrims, there is sufficient to

furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, He will be

asked of by them, to do it for them. And 'tis a poor thing that is not

worth asking for.

[Sidenote: THE PILGRIMS PROCEED]

When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went

on their way.

MER. Then said Mercy, "What a sudden blank is here! I made account we

had been past all danger, and that we should never see sorrow more."

CHR. "Thy innocence, my sister," said Christiana to Mercy, "may excuse

thee much; but as for me, fault is so much the greater, for that I saw

the danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for

it when provision might have been had. I am, therefore, much to be

blamed."

MER. Then said Mercy, "How knew you this before you came from home?

Pray, open to me this riddle."

CHR. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as

I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this; for methought I saw two men,

as like these as ever any in the world could look, stand at my bed's

feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you

their very words. They said (it was when I was in my troubles), "What

shall we do with this woman? for she cries out waking and sleeping for

forgiveness: if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose

her as we have lost her husband." This, you know, might have made me

take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had.

MER. "Well," said Mercy, "as by this neglect we have been made to behold

our own imperfections, so our Lord has taken occasion thereby to make

manifest the riches of His grace; for He, as we see, has followed us

with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were

stronger than we, of His mere good pleasure."

CHAPTER III.

THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE.

Thus, now, when they had talked away a little more time, they drew near

to a house which stood in the way, which house was built for the relief

of pilgrims, as you will find more fully related in the first part of

these records of the Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on towards the

house (the house of the Interpreter); and, when they came to the door,

they heard a great talk in the house. Then they gave ear, and heard, as

they thought, Christiana mentioned by name; for you must know that there

went along, even before her, a talk of her and her children's going on

pilgrimage. And this was the more pleasing to them, because they had

heard she was Christian's wife, that woman who was some time ago so

unwilling to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood

still, and heard the good people within commending her, who, they little

thought, stood at the door. At last Christiana knocked, as she had done

at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to the door a

young maiden, and opened the door and looked; and, behold, two women

were there.

[Sidenote: THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE]

MAID. Then said the maid to them, "With whom would you speak in this

place?"

CHR. Christiana answered, "We understand that this is a place prepared

for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such;

wherefore we pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this

time are come; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are

loth to-night to go any farther."

DAM. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my lord

within?

CHR. My name is Christiana: I was the wife of that pilgrim that some

years ago did travel this way; and these be his four children. This

young woman is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too.

INNOCENT. Then Innocent ran in (for that was her name,) and said to

those within, "Can you think who is at the door? There are Christiana

and her children, and her companion, all waiting for entertainment

here."

Then they leaped for joy, and went and told their master. So he came to

the door, and looking upon her, he said, "Art thou that Christiana whom

Christian the good man left behind him, when he betook himself to a

pilgrim's life?"

CHR. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as to slight my husband's

troubles, and then left him to go on his journey alone; and these are

his four children. But now also I am come, for I am convinced that no

way is right but this.

INTER. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the man that

said to his son, "Go, work to-day in my vineyard;" and he said to his

father, "I will not;" but afterwards he repented, and went.

CHR. Then said Christiana, "So be it: Amen. God make it a true saying

upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last of Him in peace,

without spot and blameless!"

INTER. But why standest thou thus at the door? Come in, thou blessed

one. We were talking of thee but now; for tidings have come to us before

how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in; come, maiden,

come in.

So he had them all into the house.

[Sidenote: PILGRIMS ENTERTAINED]

So when they were within, they were bidden to sit down and rest them;

the which when they had done, those that attended upon the pilgrims in

the house came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and another

smiled, and they all smiled for joy that Christiana was become a

pilgrim. They also looked upon the boys; they stroked them over the

faces with the hand, in token of their kind reception of them; they also

carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all welcome into their

master's house.

After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them

into his significant rooms, and showed them what Christian, Christiana's

husband, had seen some time before. Here, therefore, they saw the man in

the cage, the man and his dream, the man that cut his way through his

enemies, and the picture of the biggest of them all, together with the

rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian.

This done, and after those things had been seen and thought of by

Christiana and her company, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and

has them first into a room where was a man that could look no way but

downwards, with a muck-rake in his hand. There stood also one over his

head, with a celestial crown in his hand, and proffered to give him that

crown for his muck-rake; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but

raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and the dust of the

floor.

Then said Christiana, "I persuade myself that I know somewhat the

meaning of this; for this is a figure of a man of this world. Is it not,

good sir?"

INTER. "Thou hast said the right," said he; "and his muck-rake doth show

his worldly mind. And whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up

straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to do what he says

that calls to him from above with the celestial crown in his hand; it is

to show that heaven is but a fable to some, and that things here are

counted the only things substantial. Now, whereas it was also showed

thee that the man could look no way but downwards; it is to let thee

know that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds,

quite carry their hearts away from God."

CHR. Then said Christiana, "Oh, deliver me from this muck-rake!"

INTER. "That prayer," said the Interpreter, "has lain by till it is

almost rusty. 'Give me not riches' is scarce the prayer of one of ten

thousand. Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things

now looked after."

With that, Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, "It is, alas! too true."

[Sidenote: INTERPRETER'S ALLEGORIES]

When the Interpreter had showed them this, he had them into the very

best room in the house; a very brave room it was. So he bid them look

round about, and see if they could find anything there. Then they looked

round and round; for there was nothing to be seen but a very great

spider on the wall, and that they overlooked.

MER. Then said Mercy, "Sir, I see nothing."

But Christiana held her peace.

INTER. "But," said the Interpreter, "look again."

She therefore looked again, and said, "Here is not anything but an ugly

spider, who hangs by her hands upon the wall."

Then said he, "Is there but one spider in all this spacious room?"

Then the water stood in Christiana's eyes, for she was a woman quick of

mind; and she said, "Yes, my lord; there is here more than one; yea, and

spiders whose venom is far more destructive than that which is in her."

The Interpreter then looked pleasantly upon her, and said, "Thou hast

said the truth."

This made Mercy blush and the boys to cover their faces; for they all

began now to understand the riddle.

Then said the Interpreter again, "The spider taketh hold with her hands

(as you see), and is in kings' palaces. And wherefore is this recorded,

but to show you that, how full of the venom of sin soever you be, yet

you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold of and dwell in the best room

that belongs to the king's house above."

CHR. "I thought," said Christiana, "of something of this; but I could

not imagine it all. I thought that we were like spiders, and that we

looked like ugly creatures, in what fine rooms soever we were: but that

by this spider, this venomous and ill-favored creature, we were to learn

how to act faith, that came not into my mind; and yet she has taken hold

with her hands, and, as I see, dwelleth in the best room in the house.

God has made nothing in vain."

Then they seemed all to be glad, but the water stood in their eyes; yet

they looked one upon another, and also bowed before the Interpreter.

He had them then into another room, where were a hen and chickens, and

bid them observe a while. So one of the chickens went to the trough to

drink; and every time she drank, she lifted up her head and her eyes

toward heaven. "See," said he, "what this little chick doth; and learn

of her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by receiving them with

looking up. Yet again," said he, "observe and look."

So they gave heed, and perceived that the hen did walk in a fourfold

method towards her chickens. First, she had a common call, and that she

hath all day long. Secondly, she had a special call, and that she had

but sometimes. Thirdly, she had a brooding note. And, fourthly she had

an outcry.

INTER. "Now," said he, "compare this hen to your King, and these

chickens to His obedient ones: for, answerable to her, He Himself hath

His methods which He walketh in toward His people. By His common call,

He gives nothing; by His special call, He always has something to give;

He also has a brooding voice for them that are under His wing; and He

hath an outcry, to give the alarm when He seeth the enemy come. I chose,

my darlings, to lead you into the room where such things are, because

you are women, and they are easy for you."

CHR. "And, sir," said Christiana, "pray let us see some more."

So he had them into the slaughter-house, where the butcher was killing a

sheep; and, behold, the sheep was quiet, and took her death patiently.

Then said the Interpreter, "You must learn of this sheep to suffer, and

to put up with wrongs without murmurings and complaints. Behold how

quietly she takes her death; and, without objecting, she suffereth her

skin to be pulled over her ears. Your King doth call you His sheep."

After this, he led them into his garden, where was great variety of

flowers; and he said, "Do you see all these?" So Christiana said, "Yes."

Then said he again, "Behold, the flowers are diverse in stature, in

quality, and color, and smell, and virtue, and some are better than

others; also, where the gardener has set them, there they stand, and

quarrel not one with another."

Again, he had them into his field, which he had sowed with wheat and

corn; but when they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, and only the

straw remained. He said again, "This ground was made rich, and was

ploughed, and sowed; but what shall we do with the crop?" Then said

Christiana, "Burn some, and make muck of the rest." Then said the

Interpreter again, "Fruit, you see, is that thing you look for; and, for

want of that, you send it to the fire, and to be trodden under foot of

men. Beware that in this you condemn not yourselves."

Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a little robin

with a great spider in his mouth. So the Interpreter said, "Look here."

So they looked, and Mercy wondered; but Christiana said, "What a

disparagement is it to such a pretty little bird as the robin-redbreast

is; he being also a bird above many, that loveth to maintain a kind of

sociableness with man! I had thought they had lived upon crumbs of

bread, or upon other such harmless matter. I like him worse than I

did."

The Interpreter then replied, "This robin is an emblem very apt, to set

forth some people by; for to sight they are as this robin, pretty of

note, color, and conduct. They seem also to have a very great love for

those that are sincere followers of Christ; and above all other to

desire to associate with them, and to be in their company, as if they

could live upon the good man's crumbs. They pretend, also, that

therefore it is that they frequent the house of the godly and the

appointments of the Lord; but, when they are by themselves, as the

robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders, they can change their diet,

drink wickedness, and swallow down sin like water."

So, when they were come again into the house, because supper as yet was

not ready, Christiana again desired that the Interpreter would either

show, or tell of, some other things that were profitable.

Then the Interpreter began, and said, "The fatter the sow is the more

she desires the mire; the fatter the ox is, the more thoughtlessly he

goes to the slaughter; and the more healthy the lusty man is, the more

prone he is unto evil. There is a desire in women to go neat and fine;

and it is a comely thing to be adorned with that which in God's sight is

of great price. 'Tis easier watching a night or two than to sit up a

whole year together; so 'tis easier for one to begin to profess well

than to hold out as he should to the end. Every ship-master, when in a

storm, will willingly cast that overboard which is of the smallest value

in the vessel; but who will throw the best out first? None but he that

feareth not God. One leak will sink a ship, and one sin will destroy a

sinner. He that forgets his friends is ungrateful unto him but he that

forgets his Saviour is unmerciful to himself. He that lives in sin, and

looks for happiness hereafter, is like him that soweth weeds, and thinks

to fill his barn with wheat or barley. If a man would live well, let him

bring before him his last day, and make it always his company-keeper.

Whispering, and change of thoughts, prove that sin is in the world. If

the world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing of that worth

with men, what is heaven, that God commendeth! If the life that is

attended with so many troubles is so loth to be let go by us, what is

the life above! Everybody will cry up the goodness of men; but who is

there that is, as he should be, affected with the goodness of God?"

When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his garden again,

and had them to a tree, whose inside was all rotten and gone, and yet it

grew and had leaves.

Then said Mercy, "What means this?"

"This tree," said he, "whose outside is fair, and whose inside is

rotten, is that to which many may be compared that are in the garden of

God, who with their mouths speak high in behalf of God, but indeed will

do nothing for Him; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for

nothing but to be tinder for the devil's tinder-box."

Now supper was ready, the table spread, and all things set on the board;

so they sat down, and did eat when one had given thanks. And the

Interpreter did usually entertain those that lodged with him with music

at meals; so the minstrels played. There was also one that did sing, and

a very fine voice he had. His song was this:

"The Lord is only my support,

And He that doth me feed;

How can I then want anything

Whereof I stand in need?"

[Sidenote: DISCOURSE AT SUPPER]

When the song and music were ended, the Interpreter asked Christiana

what it was that first did move her to betake herself to a pilgrim's

life. Christiana answered, "First, the loss of my husband came into my

mind, at which I was heartily grieved; but all that was but natural

affection. Then, after that, came the troubles and pilgrimages of my

husband into my mind, and also how unkindly I had behaved to him as to

that. So guilt took hold of my mind, and would have drawn me into the

pond, to drown myself, but that, just at the right time, I had a dream

of the well-being of my husband, and a letter sent by the King of that

country where my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the

letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to this

way."

INTER. But met you with no opposition afore you set out of doors?

CHR. Yes, a neighbor of mine, one Mrs. Timorous: she was akin to him

that would have persuaded my husband to go back for fear of the lions.

She all-to-be-fooled me for, as she called it, my intended desperate

adventure; she also urged what she could to dishearten me from it--the

hardship and troubles that my husband met with in the way; but all this

I got over pretty well. But a dream that I had of two ill-looked ones,

that I thought did plot how to make me fail in my journey, that hath

troubled me much: yea, it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of

every one that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a mischief, and

to turn me out of my way. Yea, I may tell my Lord, though I would not

have everybody know it, that, between this and the gate by which we got

into the way, we were both so sorely attacked that we were made to cry

out "murder;" and the two that made this attack upon us were like the

two that I saw in my dream.

Then said the Interpreter, "Thy beginning is good; thy latter end shall

greatly increase." So he addressed himself to Mercy, and said unto her,

"And what moved thee to come hither, sweetheart?"

Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent.

INTER. Then said he, "Be not afraid; only believe, and speak thy mind."

MER. So she began, and said, "Truly, sir, my lack of knowledge is that

which makes me wish to be in silence, and that also that fills me with

fears of coming short at last. I cannot tell of visions and dreams, as

my friend Christiana can nor know I what it is to mourn for my refusing

the advice of those that were good relations."

INTER. What was it, then, dear heart, that hath prevailed with thee to

do as thou hast done?

MER. Why, when our friend here was packing up to be gone from our town,

I and another went accidentally to see her. So we knocked at the door

and went in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, we

asked her what was her meaning. She said she was sent for to go to her

husband; and then she up and told us how she had seen him in a dream,

dwelling in a wonderful place, among immortals, wearing a crown, playing

upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince's table, and singing

praises to Him for bringing him thither, and so on. Now, methought while

she was telling these things unto us, my heart burned within me. And I

said in my heart, If this be true, I will leave my father and my mother,

and the land of my birth, and will, if I may, go along with Christiana.

So I asked her further of the truth of these things, and if she would

let me go with her; for I saw now that there was no dwelling but with

the danger of ruin any longer in our town. But yet I came away with a

heavy heart; not for that I was unwilling to come away, but for that so

many of my relations were left behind. And I am come with all the desire

of my heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana, unto her husband

and his King.

INTER. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given credit to the truth:

thou art a Ruth, who did, for the love she bare to Naomi and to the Lord

her God, leave father and mother, and the land of her birth, to come out

and go with a people that she knew not heretofore. The Lord bless thy

work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under

whose wings thou art come to trust.

Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for bed: the women were

laid singly alone, and the boys by themselves. Now, when Mercy was in

bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts of missing at

last were removed farther from her than ever they were before. So she

lay blessing and praising God, who had had such favor for her.

In the morning they arose with the sun, and prepared themselves for

their departure; but the Interpreter would have them tarry a while:

"For," said he, "you must orderly go from hence." Then said he to the

maid that first opened to them, "Take them and have them into the

garden, to the bath, and there wash them, and make them clean from the

soil which they have gathered by traveling."

Then Innocent the maid took them and had them into the garden, and

brought them to the bath; so she told them they must wash and be clean,

for so her master would have the women to do that called at his house as

they were going on pilgrimage. Then they went in and washed, yea, they

and the boys and all; and they came out of that bath, not only sweet and

clean, but also much enlivened, and strengthened in their joints. So,

when they came in, they looked fairer a deal than when they went out to

the washing.

When they were returned out of the garden from the bath, the Interpreter

took them, and looked upon them, and said unto them, "Fair as the moon."

Then he called for the seal wherewith they used to be sealed that were

washed in this bath. So the seal was brought, and he set his mark upon

them, that they might be known in the places whither they were yet to

go; and the mark was set between their eyes. This seal added greatly to

their beauty, for it was an ornament to their faces. It also added to

their glory, and made their countenances more like those of angels.

[Sidenote: CLOTHED IN WHITE RAIMENT]

Then said the Interpreter again to the maid that waited upon these

women, "Go into the vestry, and fetch out garments for these people." So

she went and fetched out white raiment and laid it down before him; so

he commanded them to put it on; it was fine linen, white and clean. When

the women were thus adorned, they seemed to be afraid one of the other,

for that they could not see that glory each one had in herself, which

they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they began to esteem each

other better than themselves. For "You are fairer than I am," said one;

and "You are more beautiful than I am," said another. The children also

stood amazed, to see into what fashion they were brought.

The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-heart,

and bid him take sword, and helmet, and shield, and "Take these my

daughters," said he, "and conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at

which place they will rest next." So he took his weapons, and went

before them; and the Interpreter said, "God speed!" Those also that

belonged to the family sent them away with many a good wish. So they

went on their way and sang:

"This place hath been our second stage:

Here we have heard and seen

Those good things that from age to age

To others hid have been.

The Dunghill-raker, Spider, Hen,

The Chicken, too, to me

Have taught a lesson: let me then

Conformed to it be.

"The Butcher, Garden, and the Field,

The Robin and his bait,

Also the Rotten Tree, doth yield

Me argument of weight:

To move me for to watch and pray,

To strive to be sincere,

To take my cross up day by day,

And serve the Lord with fear."

CHAPTER IV.

THE CROSS AND THE CONSEQUENCES.

Now, I saw in my dream that they went on, and Great-heart before them.

So they went, and came to the place where Christian's burden fell off

his back and tumbled into a sepulchre. Here, then, they made a pause,

and here also they blessed God. "Now," said Christiana, "comes to my

mind what was said to us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon

by word and deed: by word, that is, by the promise; by deed, that is, in

the way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know something;

but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was

obtained, Mr. Great-heart, I suppose you know; wherefore, if you please,

let us hear you speak thereof."

[Sidenote: GREAT-HEART DISCOURSES]

GREAT. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained by some one for

another that hath need thereof; not by the person pardoned, but in the

way, saith another, in which I have obtained it. So then, to speak to

the question at large, the pardon that you, and Mercy, and these boys

have obtained, was obtained by another; to wit, by Him that let you in

at the gate. And He hath obtained it in this double way: He has shown

righteousness to cover you, and spilt His blood to wash you in.

CHR. This is brave! Now I see that there was something to be learnt by

our being pardoned by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labor to keep

this in mind; and, my children, do you remember it also. But, sir, was

not this it that made my good Christian's burden fall from off his

shoulders, and that made him give three leaps for joy?

GREAT. Yes, it was the belief of this that cut off those strings that

could not be cut by other means; and it was to give him proof of the

virtue of this that he was suffered to carry his burden to the Cross.

CHR. I thought so; for though my heart was lightsome and joyous before,

yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by

what I have felt, though I have felt but little as yet, that, if the

most burdened man in the World was here, and did see and believe as I

now do, it would make his heart merry and blithe.

GREAT. There is not only comfort and the ease of a burden brought to us

by the sight and consideration of these, but an endeared love born in us

by it; for who can, if he doth but once think that pardon comes, not

only by promise, but thus, but be affected with the way and means of his

redemption, and so love the Man that hath wrought it for him?

CHR. True: methinks it makes my heart bleed, to think that He should

bleed for me. Oh, Thou loving One! Oh, Thou blessed One! Thou deservest

to have me: Thou hast bought me. Thou deservest to have me all: Thou

hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth. No marvel that

this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, and that it made him

trudge so nimbly on. I am persuaded he wished me with him; but, vile

wretch that I was! I let him come all alone. Oh, Mercy, that thy father

and mother were here! yea, and Mrs. Timorous also! Nay, I wish now with

all my heart that here was Madam Wanton too. Surely, surely, their

hearts would be affected; nor could the fear of the one, nor the

powerful passions of the other, prevail with them to go home again, and

refuse to become good pilgrims.

GREAT. You speak now in the warmth of your affections: will it, think

you, be always thus with you? Besides, this is not given to every one,

nor to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that stood

by, and that saw the blood run from His heart to the ground, and yet

were so far off this, that instead of lamenting, they laughed at Him,

and instead of becoming His disciples, did harden their hearts against

him. So that all that you have, my daughters, you have by a peculiar

feeling made by a thinking upon what I have spoken to you. This you

have, therefore, by a special grace.

[Sidenote: SIMPLE, SLOTH, PRESUMPTION]

Now, I saw still in my dream, that they went on till they were come to

the place that Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption lay and slept in, when

Christian went by on pilgrimage; and, behold, they were hanged up in

irons a little way off on the other side.

MER. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, "What

are those three men? and for what are they hanged there?"

GREAT. These three men were men of very bad qualities: they had no mind

to be pilgrims themselves, and whomsoever they could they hindered. They

were for sloth and folly themselves, and whomsoever they could persuade

with, they made so too, and withal taught them to presume that they

should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went by; and,

now you go by, they are hanged.

MER. But could they persuade any to be of their opinion?

GREAT. Yes, they turned several out of the way. There was Slow-pace that

they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short-wind,

with one No-heart, with one Linger-after-lust, and with one Sleepy-head,

and with a young woman--her name was Dull--to turn out of the way and

become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord,

persuading others that He was a hard task-master. They also brought up

an evil report of the good land, saying it was not half so good as some

pretended it was. They also began to speak falsely about His servants,

and to count the very best of them meddlesome, troublesome busy-bodies.

Further, they would call the bread of God, husks; the comforts of His

children, fancies; the travel labor of pilgrims, things to no purpose.

CHR. "Nay," said Christiana, "if they were such, they never shall be

bewailed by me: they have but what they deserve; and I think it is well

that they hang so near the highway, that others may see and take

warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven on

some plate of iron or brass, and left here where they did their

mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men?"

GREAT. So it is, as you well may perceive, if you will go a little to

the wall.

MER. No, no: let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live

for ever against them. I think it a high favor that they were hanged

afore we came hither who knows, else, what they might have done to such

poor women as we are?

Then she turned it into a song, saying:

"Now, then, you three, hang there, and be a sign

To all that shall against the truth combine;

And let him that comes after fear this end,

If unto pilgrims he is not a friend.

And thou, my soul, of all such men beware

That unto holiness opposers are."

Thus they went on till they came at the foot of the Hill Difficulty,

where again their good friend Mr. Great-heart took an occasion to tell

them of what happened there when Christian himself went by. So he had

them first to the spring. "Lo," saith he, "this is the spring that

Christian drank of before he went up this hill: and then it was clear

and good; but now it is dirty with the feet of some that are not

desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst." Thereat Mercy

said, "And why are they so envious, I wonder?" But said their guide, "It

will do if taken up and put into a vessel that is sweet and good; for

then the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water come out by itself

more clear." Thus, therefore, Christiana and her companions were

compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so

let it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank

thereof.

[Sidenote: TWO DANGEROUS PATHS]

Next he showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill,

where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And said he, "These are

dangerous paths. Two were here cast away when Christian came by; and

although, as you see, these ways are since stopped up with chains,

posts, and a ditch, yet there are that will choose to adventure here,

rather than take the pains to go up this hill."

CHR. The way of transgressors is hard. It is a wonder that they can get

into those ways without danger of breaking their necks.

GREAT. They will venture: yea, if at any time any of the King's servants

doth happen to see them, and doth call unto them, and tell them that

they are in the wrong ways, and do bid them beware the danger, then they

will railingly return them answer, and say, "As for the word that thou

hast spoken unto us in the name of the King, we will not hearken unto

thee; but we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth forth out of our

own mouth." Nay, if you look a little farther, you shall see that these

ways are warned against enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and

chain, but also by being hedged up; yet they will choose to go there.

CHR. They are idle: they love not to take pains: up-hill way is

unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, "The

way of the slothful man is a hedge of thorns." Yea, they will rather

choose to walk upon a snare than go up this hill, and the rest of this

way to the City.

Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill; and up the hill they

went. But, before they got to the top, Christiana began to pant, and

said, "I dare say this is a breathing hill: no marvel if they that love

their ease more than their souls choose to themselves a smoother way."

Then said Mercy, "I must sit down;" also the least of the children began

to cry. "Come, come," said Great-heart, "sit not down here, for a little

above is the Prince's arbor." Then took he the little boy by the hand,

and led him up thereto.

[Sidenote: THE ARBOR ON THE HILL]

When they were come to the arbor, they were very willing to sit down,

for they were all in a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, "How sweet is rest

to them that labor, and how good is the Prince of pilgrims to provide

such resting-places for them! Of this arbor I have heard much, but I

never saw it before. But here let us beware of sleeping; for, as I have

heared, for that it cost poor Christian dear."

Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, "Come, my pretty boys, how

do you do? what think you now of going on pilgrimage?"

"Sir," said the least, "I was almost beat out of heart; but I thank you

for lending me a hand at my need. And I remember now what my mother has

told me, namely, 'That the way to heaven is as up a ladder, and the way

to hell is as down a hill.' But I rather go up the ladder to life, than

the hill to death."

Then said Mercy, "But the proverb, is, 'To go down the hill is easy.'"

But James said (for that was his name), "The day is coming when, in my

opinion, going down-hill will be the hardest of all."

"That's a good boy," said his master; "thou hast given her a right

answer."

Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush.

CHR. "Come," said Christiana, "will you eat a bit, a little to sweeten

your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs? for I have here a

piece of pomegranate, which Mr. Interpreter put in my hand just when I

came out of his doors: he gave me also a piece of a honeycomb, and a

little bottle of spirits."

"I thought he gave you something," said Mercy, "because he called you

aside."

"Yes, so he did," said the other; "but, Mercy, it shall still be as I

said it should, when at first we came from home; thou shalt be a sharer

in all the good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my

companion."

Then she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the boys. And

said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, "Sir, will you do as we and take

some refreshment?"

But he answered, "You are going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall

return; much good may have do to you: at home I eat the same every day."

Now, when they had eaten and drunk, and had chatted a little longer,

their guide said to them, "The day wears away; if you think good, let us

prepare to be going." So they got up to go, and the little boys went

before; but Christiana forgot to take her bottle of spirits with her, so

she sent her little boy back to fetch it.

Then said Mercy, "I think this is a losing place: here Christian lost

his roll, and here Christiana left her bottle behind her. Sir, what is

the cause of this?"

So their guide made answer, and said, "The cause is sleep or

forgetfulness: some sleep when they should keep awake, and some forget

when they should remember. And this is the very cause why often at the

resting-places some pilgrims, in some things, come off losers. Pilgrims

should watch, and remember what they have already received, under their

greatest enjoyments; but, for want of doing so, ofttimes their rejoicing

ends in tears, and their sunshine in a cloud: witness the story of

Christian at this place."

[Sidenote: MISTRUST AND TIMOROUS]

When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met

Christian, to persuade him to go back for fear of the lions, they

perceived as it were a stage, and before it, towards the road, a broad

plate, with a copy of verses written thereon, and underneath the reason

of the raising up of that stage in that place rendered. The verses were

these:

"Let him that sees this stage take heed

Unto his heart and tongue;

Lest, if he do not, here he speed

As some have, long agone."

The words underneath the verses were, "This stage was built to punish

such upon, who, through timorousness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go

farther on pilgrimage. Also on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous

were burned through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavoring to

hinder Christian in his journey."

Then said Mercy, "This is much like to the saying of the Beloved, 'What

shall be given unto thee, or what shall be done unto thee, thou false

tongue? Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper.'"

So they went on till they came within sight of the lions. Now, Mr.

Great-heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid of a lion. But yet,

when they were come up to the place where the lions were, the boys, that

went before, were glad to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the

lions so they stepped back, and went behind.

At this their guide smiled, and said, "How now, my boys! do you love to

go before when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so soon

as the lions appear?"

Now, as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, with intent to

make a way for the pilgrims in spite of the lions. Then there appeared

one that, it seems, had taken upon him to back the lions; and he said to

the pilgrims' guide, "What is the cause of your coming hither?" Now, the

name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of

pilgrims; and he was of the race of the giants.

GREAT. Then said the pilgrims' guide, "These women and children are

going on pilgrimage, and this is the way they must go; and go it they

shall, in spite of thee and the lions."

GRIM. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come

forth to withstand them, and to that end will back the lions.

[Sidenote: GREAT-HEART OVERCOMES GRIM]

Now, to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, and of the

grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much

unoccupied, and was almost all grown over with grass.

The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan Every Child Can Read · 第 11 / 13 章