Front Cover
 Title Page
 The author's apology for this...
 The pilgrim's progress
 Back Cover

Group Title: Altemus' favorite series
Title: The pilgrim's progress
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00083784/00001
 Material Information
Title: The pilgrim's progress
Series Title: Altemus' favorite series
Physical Description: 147, 8, 16 p. : ill. ; ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Bunyan, John, 1628-1688
Henry Altemus Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Henry Altemus Company
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Publication Date: c1895
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Salvation -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christian pilgrims and pilgrimages -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Allegories -- 1895   ( rbgenr )
Dialogues -- 1895   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1895   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre: Allegories   ( rbgenr )
Dialogues   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Statement of Responsibility: by John Bunyan ; arranged for young readers ; with forty-one illustrations.
General Note: Title page printed in red and black.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00083784
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002464324
notis - AMG9712
oclc - 231756569

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
        Page ia
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
    The author's apology for this book
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
        Page xii
        Page xiii
    The pilgrim's progress
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
    Back Cover
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
Full Text




Young Readers





......... 1. ESOP'S FABLES, with 62 illustrations
......... 2. ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, with 42 illustrations
........ 3. ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES, with 75 illustrations
......... 4. ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS, with 130 illustrations
......... 5. BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, with 46 illustrations
AMERICA, with 70 illustrations
......... 8. GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES, with 50 illustrations
......... 9. GULLIVER'S TRAVELS, with 50 illustrations
.........10. LITTLE LAME PRINCE, with 24 illustrations
with 234 illustrations
ADVENTURES, with 70 illustrations
.........13. THE STORY OF THE FROZEN SEAS, with 70 illustrations.
FOUND THERE, with 50 illustrations
......... WATER BABIES, by CHARLES KINGSLEY, with 84 Illustrations
.........16. WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY, with 80 illustrations
.........17. RIP VAN WINKLE, with 45 illustrations
.........18. TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE, with 60 illustrations

Price 40 Cents Each


Copyright 1895, by Henry Altemus


THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS is the most popular story-
book in the world. With the exception of the Bible it has
been translated into more languages than any other book ever
John Bunyan is one of the two or three greatest writers of
pure English. His style is a perfect model of simple, straight,
plain and delightful writing.
A demand seems to exist for an edition of this established
work more suited to young people with our latter day tastes.
The story is here told in Bunyan's precise words. In a very few
instances the text has been shortened but in no case mutilated;
and his teachings and all the doctrinal features of his marvellous
allegory are untouched.
The first edition of the book was issued in 1678, and more
than 1oo,ooo copies were sold in the twenty years following its
It is hoped that the present copiously illustrated edition may
lead young readers to an appreciation of the author, and a
further acquaintance with the facts in his eventful life.
He composed and published many other works, some of
great practical usefulness; but these were eclipsed by the lasting
fame and popularity attained by this his greatest production.



W HEN at the first I took my pen in hand.
Thus for to write, I did not understand
That I at all should make a little book
In such a mode; nay, I had undertook
To make another; which, when almost done,
Before I was aware, I this begun.

And thus it was: I, writing of the way
And race of saints in this our gospel-day,
Fell suddenly into an allegory
About their journey and the way to glory,
In more than twenty things, which I set down:
This done. I twenty more had in my crown;
And then again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.
Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,
I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last
Should prove ad zffinfium, and eat out
The book that I already am about.

Well, so I did; but yet I did not think
To show to all the world my pen and ink
In such a mode; I only thought to make
I knew not what; nor did I undertake
Thereby to please my neighbor; no, not I;
I did it mine own self to gratify.


Neither did I but vacant seasons spend
In this my scribble; nor did I intend
But to divert myself, in doing this,
From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.

Thus I set pen to paper with delight,
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white.
For having now my method by the end,
Still as I pulled, it came; and so I penn'd
It down; until at last it came to be,
For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.

Well, when I had thus put my ends together,
I showed them others, that I might see whether
They would condemn them, or them justify;
And some said, Let them live; some, Let them diu:
Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so:
Some said, It might do good; others said, No.

Now was I in a strait, and did not see
Which was the best thing to be done by me:
At last I thought, Since you are thus divided,
I print it will; and so the case decided.

For, thought I, some I see would have it done,
Though others in that channel do not run:
To prove, then, who advised for the best,
Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.

I further thought, if now I did deny
Those that would have it thus to gratify,
I did not know, but hinder them I might
Of that which would to them be great delight:
For those which were not for its coming forth,
I said to them, Offend you I am loath;
Yet, since your brethren pleased with it be,
Forbear to judge, till you do further see.


If that thou wilt not read, let it alone;
Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone;
Yea, that I might them better moderate,
I did too with them thus expostulate:

May I not write in such a style as this?
In such a method, too, and yet not miss
My end, thy good? Why may it not be done ?
Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.
Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops
Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,
Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the fruit they yield together;
Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit
None can distinguish this from that; they suit
Her well when hungry; but if she be full,
She spews out both, and makes their blessing null.

You see the ways the fisherman doth take
To catch the fish; what engines doth he make.
Behold how he engageth all his wits;
Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets:
Yet fish there be that neither hook nor line,
Nor snare, nor net, nor engine, can make thine:
They must be groped for, and be tickled too,
Or they will not be catch'd, whatever you do.
How does the fowler seek to catch his game ?
By divers means, all which one cannot name:
His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light, and bell;
He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell
Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these
Will make him master of what fowls he please.
Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this,
Yet, if he does so, that bird he will miss.

If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell,
And may be found, too, in an oyster shell:
If things that promise nothing do contain
What better is than gold, who will disdain.


That have an inkling of it there to look,
That they may find it ? Now, my little book
(Though void of all these paintings that may make
It with this or the other man to take)
Is not without those things that do excel
What do in brave but empty notions dwell.

Well, yet I am not fully satisfied,
That this your book will stand when soundly tried.

Why, what's the matter? It is dark What though
But it is feigned. What of that, I trow?
Some men, by feigned words, as dark as mine,
Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine !
But they want solidness. Speak, man, thy mind !
They drown the weak; metaphors make us blind.

Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen
Of him that writeth things divine to men:
But must I needs want solidness, because
By metaphors I speak? Were not God's laws,
His gospel laws, in olden time held forth
By shadows, types, and metaphors? Yet loath
Will any sober man be to find fault
With them, lest he be found for to assault
The Highest Wisdom. No; he rather stoops,
And seeks to find out what by pins and loops,
By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams,
By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs
God speaketh to him; and happy is he
That finds the light and grace that in them be.

Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude
That I want solidness, that I am rude:
All things solid in show, not solid be:
All things in parable despise not we,
Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive,
And things that good are, of our souls bereave.
My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold
The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold.


The prophers used much by metaphors
To set forth truth; yea whoso considers
Christ, His apostles too, shall plainly see
The truths to this day in such mantles be.

Am I afraid to say that Holy Writ,
Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit,
Is everywhere so full of all these things
(Dark figures, allegories) ? yet there springs
From that same book that lustre, and those rays
Of light, that turn our darkest nights to days.

Come, let my carper to his life now look.
And find there darker linest han in my book
He findeth any; yea, and let him know,
That in his best things there are worse lines too.

May we but stand before impartial men,
To his poor one I dare adventure ten
That they will take my meaning in these lines
Far better than his lies in silver shrines.
Come, Truth, although in swaddling-clouts I find,
Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind;
Pleases the understanding, makes the will
Submit; the memory, too, it doth fill
With what both our imagination please;
Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.

Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use,
And old wives' fables he is to refuse;
But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid
The use of parables, in which lay hid
That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were
Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.

Let me add one word more: Oh, man of God!
Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had
Put forth my matter in another dress ?
Or that I had in things been more express ?
To those that are my betters, as is fit,
Three things let me propound, then I submit:


i. I find not that I am denied the use
Of this my method, so I no abuse
Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude
In handling figure or similitude
In application; but all that I may
Seek the advance of truth, this or that way.
Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave
(Examples too, and that from them that have
God better pleased, by their words or ways,
Than any man that breatheth nowadays)
Thus to express my mind, thus to declare
Things unto thee that excellentest are.

2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write
Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight
For writing so; indeed, if they abuse
Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use
To that intent; but yet let truth be free
To make her sallies upon thee and me,
Which way it pleases God; for who knows how
Better than He that taught us first to plough,
To guide our minds and pens for His design ?
And He makes base things usher in Divine.

3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places,
Hath semblance with this method, where the cases
Do call for one thing to set forth another:
Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother
Truth's golden beams: nay, by this method may
Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.

And now, before I do put up my pen,
I'll show the profit of my book, and then
Commit both me and it unto that Hand
That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes
The man that seeks the everlasting prize:
It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes;
What he leaves undone; also what he does;


It also shows you how he runs and runs,
Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.
It shows, too, who set out for life amain,
As if the lasting crown they would obtain.
Here also you may see the reason why
They lose their labor, and like fools do die.

This book will make a traveller of thee,
If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be;
It will direct thee to the Holy Land,
If thou wilt its direction understand;
Yea, it will make the slothful active be;
The blind also delightful things to see.

Art thou for something rare and profitable,
Or wouldst thou see a truth within a fable ?
Art thou forgetful ? Wouldst thou remember
From New-year's (lay to the last of December ?
Then read my fancies; they will stick like burs,
And may be to the helpless comforters.

This book is writ in such a dialect
As may the minds of listless men affect;
It seems a novelty, and yet contains
Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains.

Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy?
Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?
Wouldst thou read riddles and their explanation,
Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?
Dost thou love picking meat ? Or wouldst thou see
A man i' the clouds, and hear him speak to thee ?
Wouldst thou be in a dream and yet not sleep ?
Or wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep ?
Wouldst thou lose thyself and catch no harm,
And find thyself again without a charm ?
Wouldst read thyself, and read thou knowest not what,
And yet know whether thou art blest or not,
By reading the same lines? Oh. then, come hither,
And lay my book, thy head, and heart together.



AS I walked through the wilderness of this world, I
lighted on a certain place where was a Den, and I
laid me down in that place to sleep; and, as I slept, I
dreamed a dream. I dreamed I saw a man clothed
with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face
from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great
burden upon his back. I looked, and saw him open
the book, and read therein ; and, as he read, he wept
and trembled; and, not being able longer to contain he
bake out with a lamentable cry, saying, What shall
do ?"
In this plight, therefore, he went home and refrained
mself as long as he could, that his wife and children
should not perceive his distress; but he could not be
silent long, because that his trouble increased. Where-


fore at length he brake his mind to his wife and chil-
dren ; and thus he began to talk to them : 0 my dear
wife, said he, and you my children, I am undone by
reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me ; moreover,
I am for certain informed that this our citywill be burned
with fire from heaven ; in which fearful overthrow, both
myself, with thee, my wife, and you, my sweet babes.
shall miserably come to ruin, except some way of
escape can be found. At this his relations were sore
amazed ; not for that they believed that what he said
to them was true, but because they thought that some
frenzy distemper had got into his head ; therefore, it
drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep
might settle his brains, with all haste they got him to
bed. But the night was as troublesome to him as the
day; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in
sighs and tears. So, when the morning was come, they
asked how he did. He told them, Worse and worse :
and set to talking to them again ; but they began to be
hardened. The also thought to drive away his dis-
temper by harsh and surly carriages to him ; some-
times they would deride, sometimes chide, and some-
times they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he
began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray for and
pity them, and also to condole his own misery; he
would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes read-
ing and sometimes praying: and thus for some days he
spent his time.
Now, I saw, when he was walking in the fields, that
he was reading in his book, and greatly distressed in
his mind; and, as he read, he burst out, as he had
done before, crying, "What shall I do to be saved ?"
I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as
if he would run; yet he stood still, because, as I per-


ceived, he could not tell in which way to go. I
looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist com-
ing to him, who asked, Wherefore dost thou cry?
He answered, Sir, I
perceive by the book in
my hand, that I am con-
demned to die, and after
that to come to judg-
ment; and I find that I
am not willing to do the
first, nor able to do the
Then said Evangelist,
Why not willing to die,
since this life is attend-
ed with so many evils?
The man answered, Be-
cause I fear that this
burden that is upon my
back will sink me lower
than the grave, and I
shall fall into Tophet.
And, Sir, if I be not fit
to go to prison, I am
not fit, I am sure, to go
to judgment, and from
thence to execution;
and the thought of these
things make me cry. HE BEGAN TO PRAY.
Tnen said Evangelist,
If this be by condition, why standest thou still ? He
answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then
he gave him a parchment roll, and there was written
within, Flee from the wrath to come.


The man, therefore, read it, and looking upon
Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must 1 fly ?
Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over
a very wide field, Do you see yon-
der wicket-gate? The man said,
No. Then said the other, Do you
see yonder shining light ? He
said, I think I do. Then said
Evangelist, Keep that light in
your eye, and go up directly
thereto; so shalt thou see the
gate; at which, when thou knock.
est, it shall be told thee what
thou shalt do. So I saw in my
dream that the man began to run.
Now, he had not run far from his
)wn door, but his wife and chil.
dren, perceiving it, began to cry
after him to return ; but the man
put his fingers in his ears, and
ran on crying, Life life eternal
life! So he looked not behind
him, but fled towards the middle
of the plain.
The neighbors also came out to
see him run, and, as he ran, some
mocked, others threatened, and
some cried after him to return ;
PLIABLE. and, among those that did so,
there were two that resolved to
fetch him back by force. The' name of the one was
Obstinate, and the name of the other was Pliable.
Now, by this time, the man was a good distance from
them; but they pursued him, and in a little time they


overtook him. Then said the man, Neighbors, where-
fore are ye come ? They said, To persuade you to go
back with us. But he said, That can by no mearn be;
you dwell in the City of
Destruction, the place
where I also was born;
I see it to be so; and,
dying there, sooner or
Sater, you will sink lower
than the grave, into
a place that burns with
fire and brimstone; be
content, good neigh-
bors, and go along with
and leave our friends
and our comforts be-
hind us ?
Yes, said Christian,
for that was his name,
because that ALL which
you shall forsake is not
worthy to be compared
with a little of that
which I am seeking to
enjoy, and if you will
go along with me, you
shall fare as I myself; OBSTINATE.
for there where I go, is
enough and to spare. Come away and prove my words
OBSTINATE. What are the things you seek, since
you leave all the world to find them?
CHRISTIAN. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, un.


defiled, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up safe
in heaven, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on
them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in
my book.
OBSTINATE. Tush! away with your book; will you
go back with us or no ?
CHRISTIAN. No, not I, because I have laid my hand
to the plough.
OBSTINATE. Come, then, neighbor Pliable, let us
turn and go home without him; there is a company of
these crazy-headed coxcombs, that, when they take a
fancy, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that
can render a reason.
PLIABLE. Then, don't revile; if what good Christian
says is true, the things he looks after are better than
ours- my heart inclines to go with my neighbor.
OBSTINATE. What! more fools still! Be ruled byme,
and go back; who knows whither such a brain-sick fel-
low will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be wise.
CHRISTIAN. Nay, but do thou come with thy neigh-
bor Pliable; there are to be had such things as I spoke
of, and many more glories besides. If you believe me
not, read in this book; and for the truth of what is ex-
pressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of
Him that made it.
PLIABLE. Well, neighbor Obstinate, I begin to come
to a point; I intend to go along and cast my lot with
this good man; but, my good companion, do you know
the way to this desired place ?
CHRISTIAN. I am directed by a man, whose name is
Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us,
where we shall receive instructions about the way.
PLIABLE. Come, then, good neighbor, let '" be go-
ing. Then they went together


OBSTINATE. And I will go back to my place. I will
be no companion of such misled, fantastical fellows.
Now, I saw in my dream, that, when Obstinate was
gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the
plain; and thus they began their discourse.
CHRISTIAN. Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do?
I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me. Had
even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the
powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not
thus lightly have given us the back.
PLIABLE. Come, neighbor Christian, since there are
none but us two here, tell me now further what the
things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are
CHRISTIAN. I can better conceive of them with my
mind, than speak of them with my tongue, but yet,
since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in
my book.
PLIABLE. And do you think that the words of your
book are certainly true ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, verily; for it was made by Him that
cannot lie.
PLIABLE. Well said; what things are they ?
CHRISTIAN. There is an endless kingdom to be in-
habited, and everlastinglife to be given us, that we may
inhabit that kingdom forever.
PLIABLE. Well said; and what else ?
CHRISTIAN. There are crowns of glory to be given
us, and garments that will make us shine like the sun
in the firmament of heaven.
PLIABLE. This is very pleasant; and what else ?
CHRISTIAN. There shall be no more crying, nor sor-
row; for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears
from our eyes.


PLIABLE. And what company shall we have there ?
CHRISTIAN. There we shall be with seraphims and
cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look
on them. There also you shall meet with thousands
and ten thousands that have gone before us, none of
them are hurtful, but loving and holy; every one walk-
ing in the sight of God, and in his presence with accept-
ance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders
with their golden-crowns; there we shall see the holy
virgins with their golden harps; there we shall see men
that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames,
eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that
they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and clothed
with immorality as with a garment.
PLIABLE. The hearing of this is enough to ravish
one's heart. But are these things to be enjoyed ? How
shali we get to be sharers thereof ?
CHRISTIAN. The Lord, the Governor of the country,
hath recorded that in this book; the substance of which
is, If we he truly willing to have it, he will bestow it
upon us freely.
PLIABLE. Well, my good companion, glad am I to
hear of these things; come on, let us mend our pace.
CHRISTIAN. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason
of this burden that is on my back.
Now, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended
this talk they drew near to a very miry slough, that
was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless,
did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the
slough was Despond. Here, therefore, they wallowed
for a time, being grievously bedaubed with dirt; and
Christian, because of the burden that was on his back
began to sink in the mire.
PLIABLE. Ah neighbor Christian, where are you
now ?


Truly, said Christian, I do not know.
PLIABLE. At this Pliable began to be offended, and
angrily said to his fellow, Is this the happiness you
have told me all this while of ? If we have such ill
speed at our first setting out, what may we expect be-
twixt this and our journey's end ? May I get out again
with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone.
And, with that, he gave a desperate struggle or two,
and got out of the mire on the side next to his own
house; so away he went, and Christian saw him no
Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough
of Despond alone ; but still he endeavored to struggle to
that side that was still further from his own house, and
next to the wicket-gate ; the which he did, but could
not get out bec.uise of the burden that was upon his
back ; but I beheld in my dream, that a man came to
him, whose name was Help, and asked him, What he
lid there ?
CHRISTIAN. Fir, I was bid go this way by a man
-alled Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate,
that I n;ght escape the wrath to come ; and as I was
going thither I fE'l in here.
HELP. But why did not you look for the steps ?
CHRISTIAN. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the
next way, and fell in.
Help then gave him his hand, and he drew him out,
and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his
Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said,
Sir, since over this place is the way from the City of
Destruction to yonder gate, why is it that this plat is
not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with
more security ? And he said unto me, This miry slough


is such a place as cannot be mended ; it is the descent
whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for
sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called the
Slough of Despond ; for still, as the sinner is awakened
about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many
fears, and doubts and discouragements, all of which get
together, and settle in this place. And this is the rea-
son of the badness of this ground. It is not the pleas-
ure of the King that this place should remain so bad.
His laborers have, by the direction of His Majesty's
surveyors, been for over sixteen hundred years em-
ployed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might
be mended : yea, and to my knowledge, here have been
swallowed up at least twenty thousand cartloads, yea,
millions of good instructions, that have been brought
from all places of the King's dominions, and they say
they are the best materials to make good ground of the
place, if so be it might have been mended ; but it is the
Slough of Despond still, and so will be when they have
done what they can.
True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver,
certain good and substantial steps, placed even through
the very midst of this slough; but as this place doth
much spew out its filth, as it doth at change of weather,
these steps are hardly seen ; and men, through the diz-
ziness of their heads, step beside, and are bemired not-
withstanding the steps be there ; but the ground is good
when they are once in the gate.
Now, I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable
was got home to his house again, so that his neighbors
came to visit him ; and some of them called him wise
man for coming back, and some called him fool for haz-
arding himself with Christian ; others again did mock
at his cowardliness saying, Surely, since you bzgan to


venture, I would not have been so base to have given
out for a few difficulties. So Pliable sat sneaking among
them. But at last he got more confidence, and then
they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor
Christian behind his back.
Now, as Christian was walking by himself, he espied
one afar off, come crossing over the fld to meet him ;
ind their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the
way of each other. The gentleman's name was Mr.
Wordly Wiseman ; he dwelt in the town of Carnal
Policy, a very great town, hardby from whence Chris-
tian came. This man then, meeting with Christian,
and having heard of his setting forth from the City of
Destruction, as it was much noised abroad, not only
in the town where he dwelt, but, also it began to be
the town talk in some other places. Mr. Worldly
Wiseman, beholding his laborious going, and observing
his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter
into some talk with Christian.
WORLDLY. How now, good fellow, whither away
after this burdened manner ?
CHRISTIAN. A burdened manner, indeed, as ever
poor creature had And whereas you ask me, Whither
away? I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder wicket-
gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be
put into a way to get rid of my heavy burden.
WORLDLY. Hast thou a wife and children ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes ; but I am so ladden with this bur-
den, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as for-
merly; methinks I am as if I had none.
WORLDLY. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give thee
counsel ?
CHRISTIAN. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need
of good counsel.


W ORLDLY. I would advise thee, then, that thou with
a:I speed get rid of thy burden ; for thou wilt never be


settled in thy mind till then ; nor canst thou enjoy the
benefits of the blessing which God has bestowed upon
thee till then.


CHRISTIAN. I seek to be rid of this heavy burden;
but get it off myself, I cannot ; nor is there any man in
our country that can take it off my shoulders ; so I am
going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of it.
WORLDLY. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy
burden ?
CHRISTIAN. A man that appeared to me to be a very
great and honorable person ; his name, as I remember,
is Evangelist.
WORLDLY. I beshrew him for his counsel there is
not a more dangerous and troublesome way in the
world than is that unto which he hath directed thee;
and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his
counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive,
already ; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is
upon thee; but that slough is the beginning of the sor-
rows that do attend those that go on in that way.
Hear me, I am older than thou ; thou art like to meet
with, in the way which thou goest, weariness, pain,
hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, dark-
ness, and death. These things are certainly true, hav-
ing been confirmed by many testimonies. And why
should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving
heed to a stranger ?
CHRISTIAN. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is
more terrible to me than are all these things which you
have mentioned ; nay, methinks I care not what I meet
with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliver-
ance from my burden.
WORLDLY. HOW camest thou by the burden at -rst ?
CHRISTIAN. By reading this book in my hand.
WORLDLY. I thought so; and it is happened unto
thee as to other weak men, who, meddling with things
too high for them, do suddenly fall into distractions,


which do not only unman men, as thine, I perceive, has
done thee, but run them upon desperate ventures to ob-
tain they know not what.
CHRISTIAN. I know what I would obtain ; it is ease
from my heavy burden.
WORLDLY. Hadst thou but patience to hear me, I
could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest,
without the dangers thou wilt run thyself into ; yea,
and the remedy is at hand. Besides, instead of those
dangers, thou shalt meet with safety, friendship, and
CHRISTIAN. Pray, Sir, open this secret to me.
WORLDLY. Why, in yonder village, named Moral-
ity, there dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality,
a very judicious man, and a man of a very good name,
that has skill to help men off with such burdens as
thine ; yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great
deal of good this way ; ay, and he hath skill to cure
those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their
burdens. To him go and be helped presently. His
house is not quite a mile from this place, and if he
should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young
man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it as
well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say, thou
mayest be eased of thy burden ; and if thou art not
minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed,
I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife
and children to thee to this village, where there are
houses now empty, one of which thou mayest have at
reasonable rates; provision is there also cheap and
good; and that which will make thy life the more
happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest
neighbors, in credit and good fashion.
Now was Christian somewhat to a stand; but pres-


ently he concluded, If this be true, which this gentle-
man hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice;
and with that he thus further spoke, Sir, which is my
way to this honest man's house ?
WORLDLY. Do you see yonder hill? As you go by
it the first house you come to is his.
So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr.
Legality's house for help ; but, behold, when he was
got now hard-by the hill, it seemed so high, and also
that side of it that was next the wayside, did hang so
much over, that Christian was afraid to venture further,
lest the hill should fall on his head ; wherefore there he
stood still, and knew not what to do. His burden now
seemed heavier to him than before. There came also
flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian sweat
and quake for fear that he should be burned.
And now he began to be sorry that he had taken
Worldly Wiseman's counsel. Then he saw Evangelist
coming to meet him ; at the sight of whom he began to
blush for shame. Evangelist drew nearer; and com-
ing up to him, looked upon him with a severe coun-
tenance, and thus began to reason with Christian.
EVANGELIST. What dost thou here, Christian? Which
words Christian knew not what to answer, and stood
speechless before him. Then said Evangelist. Art
not thou the man that I found crying without the walls
of the City of Destruction ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man.
EVANGELIST. Did I not direct the way to the little
wicket-gate ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, dear Sir.
EVANGELIST. How is it then, that thou art so quick-
ly turned aside ? for thou art now out of the way.
CHRISTIAN. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had


got over the Slough of Despond, who persuaded me
that I might, in yonder village, find a man that could
take off my burden. He looked like a gentleman, and
talked much to me, and got me at last to yield ; so I
came hither ; but when I beheld this hill, and how it
hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand lest it
should fall on my head.
EVANGELIST. What said that gentleman to you ?
CHRISTIAN. Why, he asked me whither I was going?
And I told him. He asked me if I had a family? And
I told him. But, said I, I am so loaden with the bur-
den that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure
in them as formerly. He also bid me with speed get
rid of my burden; and I told him it was ease that I
sought. And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder
gate, to receive further direction how I may get to
the place of deliverance. So he said that he would
show me a better way, and short, not so attended with
difficulties as the way, Sir, that you set me in ; which
way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house
that hath skill to take off these burdens, so I believed
him, and turned out of that way into this. But when
I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, I
stopped for fear of danger; but I now know not what
to do.
Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I may
show thee the words of God. So he stood trembling.
Then said Evangelist, See that ye refuse not him that
speaketh. For if they escaped not who refused him
that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if
we turn away from him that speakelt from heaven.
Now the just shall live by faith : but if any man draw
back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him." He also
did thus apply them : Thou art the man that art run-


ning into this misery; thou hast begun to reject the
counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot
from the way of peace, even almost to the hazarding
of thy perdition.
Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying,
"Woe is me, for I am undone!" At the sight of
which, Evangelist caught him by the right hand, say-
ing, "All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven
unto men. Be not faithless, but believing." Then
Christian revived a little and stood up trembling as
Then Evangelist' said, Give more earnest heed to the
things that I tell thee of. I will now show thee who it
was that deluded thee, and who it was also to whom he
sent thee. The man that met thee is one Worldly
Wiseman, so called because he savoreth only the doc-
trine of this world, and because he loveth that doctrine
best, for it saveth him best from the cross. And as he
is of this carnal temper, he seeketh to prevent my ways
though right. Now, there are three things in this
man's counsel that thou must utterly abhor.
(i) His turning thee out of the way. (2) His
laboring to render the cross odious to thee. And
(3) His setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto
First, thou must abhor his turning thee out of the
way, and thine own consenting thereto ; because this
is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the coun-
sel of a Worldly Wiseman. The Lord says, Strive to
enter in at the strait gate," the gate to which I send
thee ; for "strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and
few there he that find it." From this little wicket-gate,
and from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned
thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction;


hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and
abhor thyself for hearkening to him.
Secondly, thou must abhor his laboring to render the
cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it "be-
fore the treasures in Egypt." Besides, the King- of
glory hath told thee, that he that "will save his life
shall lose it." And, "He that cometh after me, and
hateth not his father, and mother, and wife, and chil-
dren, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life
also, he cannot be my disciple." I say, therefore, if
man persuade thee, that that shall be thy death, with-
out which, TH E TRUTH hath said, thou canst not have
eternal life ; this doctrine thou must abhor.
Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the
way that leadeth to death. And for this thou must
consider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable
;hat person was to deliver thee from thy burden.
He to whom thou was sent for ease, by name Legal-
ity, is the son of the bondwoman which now is in
bondage with her children ; and is, in a mystery, this
Mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy
head. Now, if she, with her children, are in bondage,
how canst thou expect by them to be made free ? This
Legality, therefore, is not able to set thee free from
thy burden. No man was as yet ever rid of his burden
by him ; no, nor ever is like to be : ye cannot be justi-
fied by the works of the law ; therefore, Worldly Wise-
man is an alien, and Legality is a cheat; and his
son Civility is but a hypocrite and cannot help thee.
Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise, that thou
hast heard of these sottish men, btt a design to beguile
thee of thy salvation, by turning thee from the way in
which I had set thee. After this, Evangelist called
aloud to the heavens for confirmation of what he had


said : and with that there came words and fire out of
the mountain under which poor Christian stood, that
made his hair stand up. The words were thus pro-
nounced : "As many as are of the works of the law are
under the curse; for it is written, Cursed is every one
that continueth not in all things which are written in
the book of the law to do them."
Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and
began to cry lamentably ; cursing the time he met
Worldly Wiseman, calling himself a thousand fools for
hearkening to his counsel; he also was greatly ashamed
to think that this gentleman's arguments, flowing only
from the flesh, should cause him to forsake the right
way. This done, he applied himself again to Evan-
CHRISTIAN. Sir, what think you? Is there hope?
May I now go back to the wicket-gate ? Shall I not be
abandoned, and sent back ashamed ? I am sorry I have
hearkened to this man's counsel. But may my sin be
forgiven ?
EVANGELIST. Thy sin is very great, for thou hast
committed two evils : thou hast forsaken the way that
is good, to tread in forbidden paths ; yet will the man
at the gate receive thee, for he has good-will for men;
only, take heed that thou turn not aside again, "lest
thou perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled
but a little."
Then did Christian decide to go back; and Evan-
gelist kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him
God-speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake
he to any man by the way; nor, if any asked him,
would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went on
like one that was treading on forbidden ground, and
could by no means think himself safe, till again he was


got into the way which he left. So Christian got up tc
the gate. Now, over the gate was written, "Knock,
and it shall be opened unto you." He knocked, there-
fore, more than once
or twice.
At last there came
to the gate a grave
person named Good-
will, who asked who
was there? and
whence he came? and
what he would have ?
is a ;oor burdened
sinner. I come from
the City of Destruc-
tion, but am going to
Mount Zion, that I
may be delivered
from the wrath to
come. I would there-
fore ask, Sir, since I
am informed that this
gate is the way
thither, if you are
willing to let me in ?
willing with all my
heart, said he; and
with that he opened CIIRISTIAN GETS A PULL AS HE WAS
the gate. STEPPING IN.
So when Christian
was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then
said Christian, What means that? The other told


him. A little distance from the gate, there is a castle,
of which Beelzebub is the captain, and he and them
that are with him shoot arrows at those who come
up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can
enter in.
Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. When
he was got in, the man of the gate asked him who
directed him thither ?
CHRISTIAN. Evangelist bid me come and knock ; and
that you, Sir, would tell me what I must do.
GOOD-WILL. But how is it that you came alone?
CHRISTIAN. Because none of my neighbors saw their
danger as I saw mine.
GOOD-WILL. Did any of them know of your coming ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes; my wife and children saw me at
the first, and called after me to turn again ; also some
of my neighbors stood crying after me to return ; but
I put my fingers in my ears, and came on my way.
GoOD-WILL. But did none of them follow you to
persuade you to go back ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but
when they saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate
went railing back, but Pliable came with me a little
way, until we came to the Slough of Despond, into the
which we suddenly fell. And then Pliable was dis-
couraged, and would not adventure further. Where-
fore, getting out again on that side next to his own
house, he told me I should possess the brave country
alone; so he went his way, and I came mine.
GOOD-WILL. Alas, poor man is the celestial glory
of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not
worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to obtain
it ?
CHRISTIAN. Truly, I have said the truth of Pliable,


aiua if I should also say all the truth to myself, it will
appear there is no betterment betwixt him and myself.
It is true, he went back to his own house, but I also
turned aside to go in
the way of death, be-
ing persuaded there-
to by the carnal
arguments of one
Worldly Wiseman.
did he light upon
you and did you take
his counsel ?
as far as I durst; I
went to find out Le-
gality, until I thought
the mountain that
stands by his house
would have fallen
upon my head;
wherefore I was.
forced to stop.
mountain has been
the death of many,
and will be the death
of many more; it is
well you escaped be-
ing by it dashed in BEELZEBUB SHOOTING ARROWS.
CHRISTIAN. Why, truly, I do not know what had be-
come of me there, had not Evangelist happily met me
again, as I was musing in the midst of my dumps; but


it was God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I
had never come hither. But now I am come, such a
one as I am; more fit, indeed, for death by that moun-
tain than thus to stand talking with my Lord ; but, oh,
what a favor is this to me, that yet I am admitted
GOOD-WILL. We make no objections against any,
notwithstanding all that they have done before they
came hither. They are "in no wise cast out," and
therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me,
and I will teach thee about the way thou must go.
Look before thee; dost thou see this norrow way?
T1HAT is the way thou must go ; it was cast up by patri-
archs, prophets, Christ and his apostles; and it is as
straight as a rule can make it. This is the way thou
must go.
CHRISTIAN. But, are there no turnings or windings,
by which a stranger may lose his way ?
GOOD-WILL. Yes, there are many ways leading from
this, and they are crooked and wide. But thou mayest
.distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only be-
ing straight and narrow.
Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him
further if he could not help him off with his burden
that was upon his back ; for as yet he had not got rid
thereof, nor could he by any means get it off without
help. He told him, As to thy burden be content to
bear it, until thou comest to the place of deliverance;
for there it will fall from thy back of itself.
Then Christian girded up his loins, and prepared for
his journey. So the other told him, that some distance
from the gate he would come to the house of the Inter-
preter, at whose door he should knock, and he would
show him excellent things. Then Christian took leave


of his friend, bidding him God-speed. Then he went on
to the house of the Interpreter, where he knocked until
one came to the door, and asked who was there.
CHRISTIAN. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by
an acquaintance of the good master of this house to call
here and speak with him. So the master of the house
after a little time came to Christian, and asked him
what he would have. Sir, said Christian, I am come
from the City of Destruction, and am going to the
Mount Zion. I was told that if I called here, you
would show me excellent things, such as would be a
help to me in my journey.
INTERPRETER. Come in; I will show that which will
be profitable to thee. So he commanded his man to
light the candle, and bid Christian follow him into a
private room where Christian saw the picture of a very
grave person hang up against the wall. It had eyes
lited up to heaven, the best of books inshis hands, the
law of truth was written upon his lips, the world was
behind his back. It stood as if it pleaded with men,
and a crown of gold did hang over his head.
Then said Christian, what meaneth this ?
INTERPRETER. This picture is to show thee that this
man's work is to know and unfold dark things to sin-
ners ; even as thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with
men; and whereas thou seest the world as cast behind
him, and that a crown hangs over his head, that is to show
/thee that, slighting and despising the things that are
present for the love that he hath to his Master's service,
he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory
for his reward. Now, I have showed thee this picture
first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only
man whom the Lord cf the place, whither thou art go-
ing, hath authorized to be thy guide in all difficult


places thou mayest meet with in the way ; wherefore
take good heed to what I have showed thee, and bear
well in thy mind what thou hast seen, lest in thy jour-
ney thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee
right, but their way goes down to death.
Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a
very large parlor that was full of dust, because never
swept ; the Interpreter called for a man to sweep.
Now, when he began to sweep, the dust began so abun-
dantly to fly about, that Christian had almost therewith
been choked. Then said the Interpreter to a damsel
that stood by, Bring hither the water and sprinkle the
room. When she had done this it was swept and
cleansedd with pleasure.
CHRISTIAN. What means this ?
The Interpreter answered, This parlor is the heal
of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace
of the gospel ; the dust is his original sin and inward
corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He that
began to sweep at first, is the Law ; but she that
brought water, and did sprinkle it, is the Gospel.
Now, whereas thou sawest, that so soon as the first
began to sweep, the dust did so fly about that the room
by him could not be cleansed, but that thou wast
almost choked therewith ; this is to show thee, that
the law, instead of cleansing the heart (by its working)
from sin, doth revive, put strength into, and increase it
in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it, for it
doth not give power to subdue.
Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room
with water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure;
this is to show thee, that when the gospel comes, in the
sweet and precious influences thereof, to the heart, then
as the damsel laid the dust by sprinkling the floor with


water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul
made clean through the faith of it, and consequently fit
for the King of glory to inhabit.
I saw, moreover, in my dream, that the Interpreter
took him by the hand, and had him into a little room,
where sat two little children, each one in his chair.
The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the
other Patience. Passion seemed to be much discon-
tented ; but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian
asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion ?
The Interpreter answered, The Governor would have
him stay for his best things till the beginning of the
next year ; but he will have all now ; but Patience is
willing to wait. Then I saw that one came to Passion,
and brought him a bag of treasure, and poured it down
at his feet, which he took up and rejoiced therein, and
withal laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld but a
while, and he had lavished all away, and nothing left
him but rags.
CHRISTIAN. Expound this matter more fully to me.
INTERPRETER. So he said, These two lads are sym-
bols. Passion, of the men of this world ; and Patience,
of the men of that which is to come ; for as here thou
seest, Passion will have his all this year, that is to say,
in this world ; so are the men of this world : they must
have all their good things now. The proverb, "A bird
in the hand is worth two in the bush," is of more
authority with them than are all the Divine testimonies
of the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest
that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently
left him nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such
men at the end of this world.
CHRISTIAN. NOW I see that Patience has the best
wisdom, and that upon many accounts. First, because


he stays for the best things. Second, because he will
have the glory of his when the other has nothing but
INTERPRETER. Nay, you may add another; to wit,
the glory of the next world will never wear out, but
these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so
much reason to laugh at Patience, because he had his
good things first, as Patience will have to laugh at Pas-
sion, because he had his best things last ; for first must
give place to last, because last must have his time to
come ; but last gives place to nothing ; for there is not
another to succeed. He, therefore, that hath his por-
tion first, must needs have a time to spend it ; but he
that hath his portion last. must have it lastingly ; there-
fore it is said of Dives, "Thouin thy lifetime receivedst
thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things ; but
now he is comforted, and thou art tormented."
Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took
Christian by the hand, and led him into a place where
was a fire burning against the wall, and one standing by
it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it;
yet did the fire burn higher and hotter.
Then said Christian, Whatmeans this?
The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of
grace that is wrought in the heart ; he that casts water
upon it to extinguish and put it out, is the Devil ; but
notwithstanding that the fire burns higher and hotter.
Thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he turned
about to the back side of the wall, where he saw a man
with a vessel of oil in his hand, which oil he did contin-
ually cast secretly into the fire.
CHRISTIAN. What means this ?
INTERPRETER. This is Christ who continually, with
the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun


m the heart ; by means of which, notwithstanding what
the Devil can do, the souls of his people prove gracious
still. And the man that stood behind the wall to main-
tain the fire is to teach thee that it is hard for the
tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in
the soul.
I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the
hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was
builded a stately palace, beautiful to behold; at the
sight of which Christian was greatly delighted. He saw
also on the top thereof, certain persons walking, who
were clothed all in gold.
Then said Christian, May we go in thither ?
Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up to-
wards the palace; and behold at the door stood a
great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst
not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the
door, at a tableside, with a book and his inkhorn before
him, to take the name of him that should enter therein ;
he saw also, that in the doorway stood many men in
armor to keep it, being resolved to do the men that
would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now
was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, when every
man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian
saw a man of a very stout countenance come up to the
man that sat there to write, saying, "Set down my
name, Sir ;" the which when he had done, he saw the
man draw his sword, and put an helmet upon his head,
and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who
laid upon him with deadly force ; but the man, not at
all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fierce-
ly. So after he had received and given many wounds
to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his
way through them all, and pressed forward into the


palace, at which there was a pleasant voice heard
from those within, that walked upon the top of the
palace, saying, Come in, come in, Eternal glory thou
shalt win."
So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as
they. Then Christian smiled and said, I think verily I
know the meaning of this.
Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay,
said the Interpreter, till I have shown thee a little more,
and after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took
him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark
room, where there sat a man in an iron cage. Now the
man, to look on, seemed very sad; he sat with his eyes
looking down to the ground, his hands folded together,
and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then
said Christian, What means this ? At which the Inter-
preter bid him talk with the man. Then said Christian
to the man, What art thou ? The man answered, I am
what I was not once.
CHRISTIAN. What wast thou once ?
MAN. I was once a fair and flourishing professor,
both in mine own eyes and also in the eyes of others ; I
once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, and
had joy at the thoughts that I should get thither.
CHRISTIAN. Well, but what art thou now ?
MAN. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up
in it, as in this iron cage. I cannot get out. Oh, now
I cannot !
CHRISTIAN. But how camest thou in this condition ?
MAN. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the
reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the
light of the World and the goodness of God ; I have
grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the devil,
and he is come to me ; I have provoked God to anger,


and he has left me ; I have so hardened my heart, that
I cannot repent.
Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there
no hope for such a man as this Ask him, said the
Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray Sir, do you.
Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you
must be kept in the iron cage of despair ?
MAN. No, none at all.
INTERPRETER. Why, the Son of the blessed is very
MAN. I have crucified him to myself afresh ; I have
despised his person ; I have despised his righteousness;
I have "counted his blood an unholy thing; I have
done despite to the Spirit of grace." Therefore I have
shut myself out of all the promises, and there now re-
mains to me nothing but threatening, dreadful threat-
enings, fearful threatening of certain judgment and
fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.
INTERPRETER. For what did you bring yourself into
this condition ?
MAN. For,the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this
world ; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise
myself much delight ; but now every one of those things
also bite me, and gnaw me like burning worm.
INTERPRETER. But canst thou not now repent and
turn ?
MAN. God hath denied me repentance. His Word
gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, himself
hath shut me up in this iron cage; nor can all the men
in the world let me out. O eternity, eternity how
shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with
in eternity !
INTERPRETER. Let this man's misery be remembered
by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.


CHRISTIAN. Well, this is fearful God help me to
watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the
cause of this man's misery Sir, is it not time for me
to go on my way now ?
INTERPRETER. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing
more, and then thou shalt go on thy way.
So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him
,into a chamber, where there was one rising out of bed;
and as he put on his raiment, he shook and trembled.
Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble ?
The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the
reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This
night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the
heavens grew exceedingly black ; also it thundered and
lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an
agony; so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds
rack at an unusual rate, upon which I heard a great sound
of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, at-
tended with the thousands of heaven ; they were all in
flaming fire ; also the heavens were in a burning flame.
Iheard then a voice, saying, "Arise, ye dead, and come
to judgment; and with that the rocks rent, the graves
opened, and the dead that were therein came forth.
Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward ;
and some sought to hide themselves under the moun-
tains. Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud
open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there
was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and
came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt
him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at
the bar. I heard it also proclaimed to them that at-
tended on the man that sat on the cloud, "Gather to-
gether the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them
into the burning lake." And with that the bottomless pit


opened, just whereabout I stood; out of the mouth of
which there came, in
an abundant manner,
smoke and coals of
fire, with hideous
noises. It was also
said to the same per-
sons, "Gather my
wheat into the gar-
ner." And with that
I saw many catched
up and carried away
into the clouds, but
I was left behind. I
also sought to hide
myself, but I could
not, for the man that
sat upon the cloud
still kept his eye upon
me; my sins also
came into my mind ;
and my conscience
did accuse me on
every side. Upon
this I awaked from
my sleep.
what was it that made V i
you so afraid of this
sight ?
thought that the day WHERE I STOOD.
of judgment was come, and that I was not ready for it;
but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up


several and left me behind ; also the pit of hell opened
her mouth just where I stood. My conscience, too,
afflicted me ; and, as I thought, the Judge had always
his eye upon me, showing indignation in his coun-
Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou
considered all these things ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear.
INTERPRETER. Well, keep all things so in thy mind
that they may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee
forward in the way thou must go.
Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to
address himself to his journey. Then said the Inter-
preter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Chris-
tian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the City.
So Christian went on his way.
Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which
Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a
wall, and that wall was called Salvation. Up this way,
therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without
great difficulty, because of the load on his back.
He ran thus till he came to a place somewhat ascend-
ing, and upon that place stood a cross, and a little
below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my
dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross,
his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from
off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to
do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it
fell in, and I saw it no more.
Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said
with a merry heart, "He hath given me rest by his
sorrow, and life by his death." Then he stood still a
while to look and wonder; for it was very surprising
to him, that the sight of the cross should thus ease hirrm

-- i .~.




of his burden. He looked therefore, and looked again,
even till the springs that were in his head sent the
waters down his cheeks. Now, as he stood looking
and weeping, behold three Shining Ones came to him
and saluted him with, "Peace be to thee." So the
first said to him, "Thy sins be forgiven thee," the
second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him "with
change of raiment," the third also set a mark on his
forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it,
which he bade him look on as he ran, and that he
should give it in at the Celestial gate.
Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on
I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus until
he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the
way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon their heels.
The name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, and
the third Presumption.
Christian seeing them lie in this case went to them,
if peradventure he might awake them, and cried, You
are like them that sleep on the top of a mast, for the
Dead Sca is under you-a gulf that hath no bottom.
Awake, therefore, and come away; be willing also,
and I will help you off with your irons. He also told
them, If he that "goeth about like a roaring lion"
comes by, will certainly become a pray to his teeth.
With that they looked upon him, and began to reply
in this sort: Simple said, "I see no danger ;" Sloth
said, "Yet a little more sleep;" and Presumption
said, "Every tub must stand upon its own bottom,
what is the answer else that I should give thee ?" And
so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on
his way.
Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger



should so little esteem the kindness of him that so
freely offered to help them, by awakening them, coun-
selling them, and proffering to help them off with
their irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he
espied two men come tumbling over the wall, on the
left hand of the narrow way ; and they made up apace
to him. The name of the one .was Formalist, and the
name of the other Hypocrisy. Christian then entered
into discourse with them.
CHRISTIAN. Gentlemen, whence came you, and
whither go you ?
FORMALIST and HYPOCRISY. We were born in the
land of Vainglory, and are going for praise to Mount
CHRISTIAN. Why came you not in at the gate which
standeth at the beginning of the way ? Know you not
that it is written, that he that cometh not in by the
Joor, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a
thief and a robber ? "
FORMiALIST and HYPOCRISY said, That to go to the
gate for entrance was, by all their countrymen, counted
too far about ; and that, therefore, their usual way was
to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as
they had done.
CHRISTIAN. But will it not be counted a trespass ?
FORMALIST and HYPOCRISY told him then, That he
needed not to trouble his head thereabout; what they
did they had custom for and could produce testimony
that would witness it for more than a thousand years.
CHRISTIAN. But, will your practice stand a trial at
law ?
FORMALIST and HYPOCRISY. That custom, being of so
long a standing as above a thousand years, would,
doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal by any


impartial judge; and besides, if we get into the way,
what's matter which way we get in? if we are in,
we are in ; thou art but in
the way, who, as we per-
ceive, came in at the gate;
and we are also in the
way, that came tumbling
over the wall : wherein,
now, is thy condition bet-
ter than ours?
CHRISTIAN. I walk by
the rule of my Master;
you walk by the rude
working of your fancies.
You are counted thieves
already by the Lord of the 'i
way; therefore, I doubt
you will not be found true
men at the end. You come
in by yourselves, without
his direction ; and shall go
out by yourselves, without
his mercy.
To this they made him
but little answer; only
they bid him look to him-
self. Then I saw that they
went on every man in his
way, without much con-
ference one with another;
save that these two men FORMALIST.
told Christian, that, as to
laws and ordinances, they doubted not but they should
as conscientiously do them as he; therefore, said they,


we see not wherein thou different from us but by the
coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given
thee by some of thy neigh-
bors, to hide the shame of thy
By laws and ordinances you
will not be saved, since you
came not in by the door.
And as for this coat that is on
Smy back, it was given me by
the Lord of the place whither
I go; and that, as you say,
to cover my nakedness with.
And I take it as a token of
his kindness to me; for I had
nothing but rags before.
And besides, thus I comfort
myself as I go: Surely, think
I, when I come to the gate of
the city, the Lord thereof will
know me for good, since I
have his coat on my back-a
coat that he gave me freely
in the day that lie stripped
me of my rags. I have,
", moreover, a mark in my fore-
head, which one of my Lord's
most intimate associates
fixed there in the day that
HYPOCRISY. my burden fell off my shoul-
ders. I had then given me
a roll, sealed, to comfort me by reading as I go on the
way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate,
in token of my certain going in after it; all which


things, I doubt, you want, and lack them because you
came not in at the g.tc.
To these things they gave him no answer ; only they
looked upon each other,
and laughed. Then I -
saw that they went on ,'
all, save that Christian
kept before, who had no
more talk but with him-
self, sometimes sighing- i
ly and sometimes corn-
fortably; also he would
be often reading in the
roll that one of the Shin- "- '. -
ing Ones gave him, by -
which he was refreshed.
I beheld, then, that
they all went on till
they came to the foot of \
the Hill Difficulty; at
the bottom of which was
a spring. There were
also in the same place
two other ways besides
that which came
straight from the gate;
one turned to the left T]
hand, and the other to
the right, at the bottom IE STU MLED AND FELL, AND ROSE
of the hill; but the nar- No IORE.
row way lay right up the
hill, and the name of the going up the side of the hill
is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the spring,
and drank thereof, to refresh himself, and then began
to go up the hill.


The other two also came to the foot of the hill ; but
when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and
that there were two other ways to go; and supposing
also that these two ways might meet again, with that
up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill ;
therefore they resolved to go in those ways. Now the
name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name
of the other Destruction. So the one took the way
which is called Danger, which led him into a great
wood, and the other took directly up the way to
Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of
dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose
no more.
I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the
lill, where I perceived he fell from running to going,
and from going to clambering upen his hands and his
knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now,
about the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant
arbor, made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing of
weary travellers; thither, therefore, Christian got, and
sat down to rest. Then he pulled his roll out of his
bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he now began
afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was
given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing him-
self a while, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence
into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until
it was almost night; and in his sleep his roll fell out
of his hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there came
one to him, and awaked him, saying, "Go to the
ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise."
And with that Christian started up, and sped him
on his way, and went apace, till he came to the top
of the hill.
Now, when he was got up to the top of the hill, other


came two men running to meet him amain ; the name
of the one was Timorous, and of the other Mistrust ; to
whom Christian said, Sirs, what's the matter ? You run
the wrong way. Timo-
rous answered, that i
they were going to the .
City of Zion, and had got "
up that difficult place ; 4 "
but, said he, the further
we go, the more danger
we meet with ; where-
fore we turned, and are
going back again.
Yes, said Mistrust,
for just before us lie a
couple of lions in the
way, whether sleeping
or waking we know not,
and we could not think,
if we came within reach,
but they would present-
ly pull us in pieces.
make me afraid, but
whither shall I fly to be
safe: It I go back to
mine own country, that
is prepared for fire and
brimstone, and I shall
certainly perish there.
Celestial City, I am
sure to be in safety there. I must venture. To go
back is notLing but death ; to go forward is fear of

death, and life everlasting beyond it. I will yet go
forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill,
and Christian went on his way. But thinking again of
what he had heard from the men, he felt in his bosom
for his roll, that he might read therein, and be com-
forted ; but he felt, and found it not. Then was Chris-
tian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for he
wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which
should have been his pass into the Celestial City. Here,
therefore, he began to be much perplexed, and knew
not what to do. At last le bethought himself that he
had slept in the arbor that is on the side of the hill;
and, falling down upon his knees, he asked God's for-
giveness for that his foolish act, and then went back
to look for his roll. But all the way he went back,
who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's
heart Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and
oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall
asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little
refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he
went back, carefully, looking on this side and on that,
all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll,
that had been his comfort so many times in his journey.
He went thus, till he came again within sight of the
arbor where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed
his sorrow the more by bringing again, even afresh,
his evil of sleeping into his mind. Thus, therefore, he
now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, "
wretched man that I am that I should sleep in the
daytime that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty !
that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for
ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected
only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims !
How many steps have I took in vain Thus it hap.




opened to Israel, for their sin ; they were sent back again
by the way of the Red Sea; and I am made to tread
those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with
delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far
might I have been on my way by this time! I am
made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed
not to have trod but once ; yea, now also I am like to
be benighted, for the day is almost spent. Oh, that I
had not slept !
Now, by this time he was come to the arbor again,
where for a while he sat ddwn and wept; but at last, as
Christian would have it, looking sorrowfully down un-
der the settle, there he espied his roll; which with
trembling and haste he snatched up, and put it in his
bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man was
when he had gotten his roll again! for this roll was the
assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired haven.
Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to
God for directing his eye to the place whei e it lay, and
with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey.
But oh, how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the
hill Yet, before he got up the sun went down upon
Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity
of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again
began to condole with himself. O thou sinful sleep:
how, for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my
journey. I must walk without the sun ; darkness must
cover the path of my feet ; and I must hear the noise
of the doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep.
Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and
Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the
sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself
again, These beasts range in the night for their prey ;
and if they should meet with me in the dark, how

i 1 iI



1 \\~


hIould I shift them ? How should I escape being torn
ia pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But while he
was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lift up
his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace
before him, the name of which was Beautiful ; and it
stood just by the highway side.
So I saw in my dream that he made haste and went
forward, that if possible he might get lodging there.
Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very
narrow passage, which was about a furlong from the
porter's lodge; and looking very narrowly before him
as he went, he espied two lions in the way. Now,
thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timor-
ous were driven back by. (The lions were chained,
but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and
thought also himself to go back, for he feared nothing
but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge,
whose name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian
made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him,
saying, Is thy strength so small ? Fear not the lions,
for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of
faith where it is. and for discovery of those that had
none. Keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt
shall come unto thee.
Then he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but
taking good heed to the directions of the porter ; he
heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he
clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood
before the gate where the porter was. Then said
Christian to the porter, Sir, what house is this ? And
may I lodge here to-night? The porter answered,
This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he
built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The por-
ter also asked whence he was, and whither he was going.



CHRISTIAN. I am come from the City of Destruction,
and am going to Mount Zion ; but because the sun is
now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night.
PORTER. What is your name ?
My name is now Christian, but my name at the
first was Graceless; I came of the race ot Japheth,
whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem.
PORTER. But how doth it happen that you come so
late ? The sun is set.
CHRISTIAN. I had been here sooner, but wretched
man that I am !"-I slept in the arbor that stands on
the hill-side ; I had,. notwithstanding that, been here
much sooner, but that, in my sleep, I lost my evidence,
and came without it to the brow of the hill ; and then
feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced with sor-
row of heart to go back to the place where I slept my
sleep, where I found it, and now I am come.
POR'TER. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of
this place, who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in
to the rest of the family, according to the rules of the
house. So Watchful, the porter, rang a bell, at the
sound of which came out at the door of the house a
grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and
asked why she was called.
The porter answered, This man is on a journey from
the City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being weary
and benighted, he asked me if he night lodge here to-
Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he
was going ; and he told her. She asked him also how
he got into the way ; and he told her. Then she asked
him what he had seen and met with in the way ; and
he told her. And last she asked his name ; so he said,
It is Christian, and I have so much the more a desire


to lodge here to-night, because by what I perceive, this
place was built by the Lord of the hill, for the relief
and security of pilgrims.
So she smiled, but the wa-
ter stood in her eyes; and
after a little pause, she said,
I will call forth two or three
more of the family. So she
ran to the door, and called
out Prudence, Piety, and
Charity, who, after a little
more discourse with him,
had him into the family;
and many of them, meeting
him at the threshold of the
house, said, "Come in, thou
blessed of the Lord;" this
house was built by the Lord
of the hill, on purpose to
entertain such pilgrims in.
Then he bowed his head,
and followed them into the
house. So when he was
come in and set down, they
gave him something to
drink, and consented to-
gether, that until supper
was ready, some of them
should have some particular ATU E PORTER.
discourse with Christian,
for the best improvement
of time ; and they appointed Piety and Prudence and
Charity to discourse with him; and thus they began:
PIETY, Comw, ood Christian, Finct we hove beeo


so loving to you, to receive you in our house this night,
let us talk with you of all things that have happened
to you in your pilgrimage. What moved you at first
to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life ?
CHRISTIAN. I was driven out of my native country
by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears ; to wit, that
unavoidable destruction did attend me, if I abode in
that place where I was.
PIETY. But how did it happen that you came out of
your country this way ?
CHRISTIAN. It was as God would have it ; for when
I was under the fears of destruction, I did not know
whither to go ; but by chance there came a man, as I
was trembling and weeping, whose name is Evangelist,
and he directed me to the wicket-gate, which else I
should never have found, and so set me into the way
that hath led me directly to this house.
PIETY. But did you not come by the house of the
CHRISTIAN. Yes, and did see such things there, the
remembrance of which will stick by me as long as I live.
The Interpreter took me and showed me a stately
palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were
in it; and how there came a venturous man, and cut
his way through the armed men that stood in the door
to keep him out ; and how he was bid to come in, and
win eternal glory. Methought those things, did ravish
my heart! I would have stayed at that good man's
house a twelvemonth, but that I knew I had further to
PIETY. Why, did you hear him tell his dream ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, I
thought; it made my heart ache as he was telling of it;
but yet I am glad I heard it.


PIETY. Was that all you saw at the house of the In-
terpreter ? And what saw you else in the way ?
CHRISTIAN. Saw I why, I went but a little further,
and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding
upon the tree ; and the very sight of him made my bur.
den fall off my back ( for I groaned under a very heavy
burden,) but then it fell down from off me. Yea, an6
while I stood looking up, for then I could not forbear
looking, three Shining Ones came to me. One of them
testified that my sins were forgiven me; another
stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered
coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which
you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll.
(And with that he plucked it out of his bosom.)
PIETY. But you saw more than this, did you not ?
CHRISTIAN. Some other matters I saw, as, namely:
three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep
a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their
heels ; but I could not awake them. Formalist and
Hypocrisy also tumbled over the wall, to go, as they
pretended, to Zion, but were quickly lost, as I myself
did tell them they would be. I found it hard work to
get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions'
mouths ; and truly if it had not been for the good man,
the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know but
that after all I might have gone back again ; but now, I
thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving
Then Prudence thought to ask him a few questions,
and desired his answer to them.
PRUDENCE. Do you not think sometimes of the
country from whence you came ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, but with much shame and detesta-


PRUDENCE. Do you not yet bear away with you some
of the things that then you were conversant withal ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, but greatly against my will;
especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with which
all my countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted;
but now all those things are my grief.
PRUDENCE. Do you not find sometimes, as if those
things were vanquished, which at other times are your
perplexity ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, but that is seldom ; but they are to
me golden hours in which such things happen to me.
PRUDENCE. Can you remember by what means you
find your annoyances, at times, as if they were van-
quished ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, when I think what I saw at the
cross, that wili do it ; and when I look upon my broi-
dered coat, that will do it; also when I look into the
roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it ; and when
my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that
will do it.
PRUDENCE. And what is it that makes you so disir-
ous to go to Mount Zion ?
CHRISTIAN. Why, there I hope to see him alive that
did hang dead on the cross ; and there I hope to be rid
of all those things that to this day are in me an annoy-
ance to me ; there, they say, there is no death ; and
there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. I
would fain be where I shall die no more, and with the com-
pany that shall continually cry, Holy, Holy, Holy "
Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family ?
Are you a married man ?
CHRISTIAN. I hieve a wife and four small children.
CHARITY. And why did you not bring them along
with you ?


CHRISTIAN. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how
willingly would I have done it but they were all of
them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage.
CHARITY. But you should have talked to them, and
endeavored to have shown them the danger of being
CHRISTIAN. So I did; and told them also what God
had shown to me of the destruction of our city ; but
I seemed to them as one that mocked, and they be-
lieved me not.
CHARITY. And did you pray to God that he would
bless your counsel to them ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, and that with such affection; for you
must think that my wife and poor children were very
dear unto me.
CHARITY. But did you tell them of' your own sorrow
and fear of destruction ?
CHRISTIAN. Yes, over, and over, and over. They
might also see my fears in my countenance, in my tears,
and also in my trembling under the apprehension cf the
judgment that did hang over our heads ; but all was
not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me.
My wife was afraid of losing this world, and my chil-
dren were given to the foolish delights of youth ; so
what by one thing, and what by another, they left me.
to wander in this manner alone.
CHARITY. But did you not, with your vain life, damp
all that you by words used by way of persuasion to bring
them away with you ?
CHRISTIAN. Indeed, I can not commend my life ; f ,r
I am conscious to myself of many failings therein ; I
know also, that a man by his conversation may so in
overthrow, what by argument or persuasion he doth
labor to fasten upon others for their good. Yet this I


can say, I was very wary of giving them occasion, ny
any unseemly action, to make them averse to going on
pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing they would tell
me I was too precise, and that I denied myself of things,
for their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, I
think I may say that, if what they saw in me did hin-
der them, it was my great tenderness in sinningagain:c
God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbor.
Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking
together until supper was ready. So when they had
made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table
was furnished with fat things, and with wine that was
well refined ; and all their talk at the table was about
the Lord of the hill ; about what he had done, where-
fore he did what he did, and why he had builded that
house. And by what they said, I perceived that he
had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain
"him that had the power of death," but not without
great danger to himself, which made me love him the
more. For, as they said, he did it with the loss of much
blood ; but that which put glory of grace into all he
did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his country.
And besides, there were some of them of the household
that said they had been and spoke with him since he
did die on the cross ; and they have attested that they
had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor
pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east
to the west.
They, moreover, gave an instance of what they af
firmed, and that was, he had stripped himself of his
glory, that he might do this for the poor ; and that they
heard him say and affirm that he would not dwell in
the mountain of Zion alone." They said, moreover,
that he had made many pilgrims princes, though by


nature they were beggars born, and their original had
been the dunghill.
Thus they discoursed together till late at night, and
after they had committed themselves to their Lord for
protection, they betook themselves to rest; the pilgrim
they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window
opened toward the sun-rising; the name of the cham-
ber was Peace.
So in the morning after some more discourse, they
told him that he should not depart till they had shown
him the rarities of that place. And first they had him
into the study, where they showed him records of the
greatest antiquity ; in which, as I remember my dream,
they showed him first the pedigree of the Lord of the
hill, that he was the son of the Ancient of Days, and
came by that eternal generation. Here also was more
fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names
of many hundreds that he had taken into his service ;
and how he had placed them in such habitations, that
could neither by length of days, nor decays of nature,
be dissolved.
Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that
some of his servants had done : as, how they had "sub-
dued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained pro-
mises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the
violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of
weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight,
and turned to flight the armies of the aliens."
They then read again, in another part of the records
of the house, where it was showed how willing their
Lord was to receive into his favor any, even any though
they in time past had offered great affronts to his per-
son and proceedings.
Tke next day they took him into the armory, where


they showed him all manner of furniture, which their
Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, hel-
met, breastplate, all-prayer, and shoes that would not
wear out. And there was here enough of this to har-
ness out as many men for the service of their Lord as
there be stars in the heaven for multitude.
They also showed him some of the engines with which
some of his servants had done wonderful things. They
showed him Moses' rod ; the hammer and nail with
which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and
lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the armies
of Midian. Then they showed him the ox's goad where-
with Shamgar slew six hundred men. They showed
him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such
mighty feats. They showed him, moreover, the sling
and stone with which David slew Goliath of Gath ; and
the sword, also, with which their Lord will kill the Man
of Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey.
They showed him, besides, many excellent things, with
which Christian was much delighted.
Then I saw in my. dream, that on the morrow he got
up to go forward ; but they desired him to stay till the
next day also ; and then, said they, we will, if the day
be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains, which,
they said, would yet further add to his comfort, because
they were nearer the desired haven than the place
where at present he was ; so he consented and stayed.
When the morning was up, they had him to the top of
the house, and bid him look south ; so he did: and be-
hold, at a great distance, he saw most pleasant moun-
tainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits
of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains,
very delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of
the country. They said it was Immanuel's Land ; and


it is as free, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the
pilgrims. From thence, said they, thou mayest see to
the gate of the Celestial City.
Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and
they were willing he should. But first, said they, let
us go again into the armory. So they did; and when
they came there, they harnessed him from head to foot
with what was of proof, lest, perhaps, he should meet
with assaults on the way. He being, therefore, thus
accoutred, walketh out with his friends to the gate and
there he asked the porter if he saw any pilgrim pass by.
Then the porter answered, Yes. I asked him his name,
and he told me it was Faithful.
CHRISTIAN. Oh, said Christian, I know him ; he is
my townsman, my near neighbor. How far do you
think he may be before ?
PORTER. He is got by this time below the hill.
CHRISTIAN. Well, good Porter, the Lord be with
thee, and add to all thy blessings much increase, for the
kindness that thou hast showed to me.
Then he began to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety,
Charity, and Prudence, would accompany him down to
the foot of the hill. Then said Christian, As it was
difficult coming up, so, so far as I can see, it is danger-
ous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is, for it is
a hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of
Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by
the way; therefore, said they, are we come out to ac-
company thee down the hill. So he began to go down
but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two.
Then I saw in my dream that these good companions,
when Christian was gone to the bottom of the hill, gave
him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of
raisins; and then he went on his way.


But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Chris-
tian had gone but a little way, before he espied a foul
fiend coming over the field to meet him ; his name was
Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and
undecided whether to go back or to stand his ground.
But he considered again that he had no armor for his
back ; and to turn the back to him might give him the
greater advantage to pierce him with his darts; so he
resolved to stand his ground ; for, thought he, had I no
more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it would
be the best way to stand.
So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the
monster was hideous to behold ; he was clothed with
scales, like a fish, he had wings like a dragon, feet like
a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and
his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was
come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful
countenance, and thus began to question with him.
APOLLYON. Whence came you ? and whither are you
CHRISTIAN. I am come from the City of Destruction,
which is the place of all evil, and am going to the City
of Zion.
APOLLYON. By this I perceive that thou art one of
my subjects, for all that country is mine, and I im the
prince and god of it. How is it, then, thou hast run
away from thy king ? Were it not that I hope thou
mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now
at one blow, to the ground.
CHRISTIAN. I was born, indeed, in your dominions, but
your service was hard, and your wages such as a man
could not live on, "for the wages of sin is death;" there-
fore, when I was come to years, 1 did as other consider-
ate persons do, look out if perhaps I night mend myself.


APOLLYON. There is no prince that will thus lightly
lose his subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee ; but
since thou complainest of thy service and wages, be
content to go back ; what our country will afford, I do
here promise to give thee.
CHRISTIAN. But I have let myself to another, even
to the King of princes; and how can I, with fairness,
go back with thee?
APOLLYON. Thou hast in this, "Changed a bad for
a worse;" but it is ordinary for those that have pro-
fessed themselves his servants, after a while to give
him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too,
and all shall be well.
CHRISTIAN. I have given him my faith, and sworn
my allegiance to him ; how, then, can I go back from
this, and not be hanged as a traitor ?
APOLLYON. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am
willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet turn again
and go back.
CHRISTIAN. What I promised thee was in my non-
age ; and, besides, I count the Prince under whose ban-
ner now I stand is able to absolve me; yea, and to
pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee;
and besides, 0 thou destroying Apollyon to speak
truth, I like his service, his wages, his servants, his
government, his company and country, better than
thine ; and, therefore, leave off to persuade me further;
I am his servant and I will follow him.
APOLLYON. Consider, again, when thou art in cool
blood, what thou art like to meet with in the way that
thou goest. Thou knowest that, for the most part, his
servants came to an ill end, because they are trans-
gressors against me and my ways. How many of them
have been put to shameful deaths; and, besides, thou


contest his service better than mine, whereas he never
came yet from the place where he is to deliver any that
served him out of their hands ; but as for me, how
many times, as all the world very well knows, have I
delivered, either by power, or fraud, those that have
faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken
by them; and so I will deliver thee.
CHRISTIAN. His forebearing at present to deliver
them is on purpose to try their love, whether they will
cleave to him to the end; and as for the ill end thou
sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their
account ; for, for present deliverance, they do not much
expect it, for they stay for their glory, and then they
shall have it, when their Prince comes in his and the
glory of the angles.
APOLLYON. Thou hast already been unfaithful in
thy service to him ; and how dust thou think to receive
wages of him ?
CHRISTIAN. Wherein, 0 Apollyon, have I been un-
faithful to him ?
APOLLYON. Thou didst faint at first setting out,
when thou wast almost choked in the Gulf of Despond;
thou didst attempt wrong ways to get rid of thy bur-
den, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince
had taken it of ; thou didst sinfully sleep and lose thy
choice thing ; thou wast, also, almost persuaded to go
back, at the sight of the lions ; and when thou talkest
of thy journey, and of what thou hast heard and seen,
thou art inwardly desirous of vainglory in all that thou
sayest or doest.
CHRISTIAN. All this is true, and much more which
thou hast left out! but the Prince whom I serve and
honor is merciful, and ready to forgive ; but, besides,
these infirmities possessed me in thy country, for there


I sucked them in ; and I have groaned under them,
been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my
Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, say-
ing, I am an enemy to this Prince ; I hate his person,
his laws, and people; I am come out on purpose to
withstand thee.
CHRISTIAN. Apollyon, beware what you do; for I
am in the king's highway, the way of holiness ; there-
fo:e take heed to yourself.
Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole
breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this
matter ; prepare thyself to die, for I swear by my in-
fernal den, that thou shall go no further ; here will I
spill thy soul.
And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast;
but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he
caught it, and so prevented the danger of that.
Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to
bestir him ; and Apollyon as fast made at him, throw-
ing darts as thick as hail, by the which, notwithstand-
ing all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon
wounded him in nis head, his hand, and foot. This
made Christian give a little back ; Apollyon, therefore,
followed his work amain, and Christian again took
courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This
sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till
Christian was almost quite spent; for you must know
that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs
grow weaker and weaker.
Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to
gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him,
gave him a dreadful fall; and with that Christian's
sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am


sure of thee now. And with that he had almost pressed
him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life:
but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching
of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good
man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his
sword and caught it, saying, Rejoice not against me,
0 mine enemy: when I fall I shall arise;" and with
that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give
back; as one that had received his mortal wound.
Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying,
"Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors
through him that loved us." And with that Apollyon
spread forth his dragon's wings and sped him away,
that Christian for a season, saw him no more.
In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had
seen and heard as I did, what yelling and hideous
roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight-he
spake like a dragon ; and, on the other side, what sighs
and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw
him all the while give so much as one pleasant look,
till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-
edged sword; then indeed, he did smile, and look up-
ward, but it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.
So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will
here give thanks to him that delivered me out of the
mouth of the lion, to him that did help me against
Then there came to him a hand, with some of the
leaves of the tree of life, the which Christian took, and
applied to the wounds that he had received in the bat-
tle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in
that place to eat bread, and to drink of the bottle that
was given him a little before ; so, being refreshed, he
addressed himself to his journey, with his sword drawn


in his hand ; for he said, I know not but some other
enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other
affront from Apollyon quite through this valley.
Now, at the end of this valley was another, called
the Valley of the Sha-
dow of Death, and
Christian must needs go
through it, because the
way to the Celestial City
lay through the midst
of it. Now, this valley
is a very solitary place,
and Christian was worse
put to it than in his fight
with Apollyon; as you
shall see. -
I saw then in my ,"
dream, that when Chris-
tian was got to the bor- -
ders of the Shadow of
Death, there met him '"r:- .
two men, children of
them that brought up
an evil report of the
good land, making
haste to go back ; to
whom Christian spake
are you going ?
MEN. Back back and we would have you to do
so too, if either life or peace is prized by you.
CHRISTIAN. Why, what's the matter ?
MEN. Matter we were going that way as you are
going, and went as far as we durst ; and indeed we were


almost past coming back; for had we gone a little fur
their we had not been here to bring the news to thee.
CHRISTIAN. But what have you met with ?
MEN. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the
Shadow of Death; but that, by good hap, we looked
before us, and saw the danger before we came to it.
CHRISTIAN. But what have you seen ?
MEN. Seen Why, the valley itself, which is as
dark as pitch ; we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs,
and dragons of the pit ; we heard also in that Valley a
continual howling and yelling, as of a people under un-
utterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and
irons ; and over that Valley hangs the discouraging
cl. uds of confusion. Death also doth always spread his
wings over it.
Then, said Christian, I perceive that this is my way
to the desired haven.
MEN. Be it thy way; we will not choose it for ours.
So they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still
with his sword drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should
be assaulted.
I saw then in my dream so far as this valley reached,
there was on the right hand a very deep ditch, into
which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and both
have there miserably perished. Again, behold on the
left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, into which,
if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom for his
foot to stand on. Into that quag king David once did
fall, and had no doubt therein been smothered, had not
HE that is able plucked him out.
The pathway was here also exceedingly narrow, and
therefore good Christian was the more put to it; for
when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the
one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the


other; also when he sought to escape the mire, with-
out great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the
ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh


bitterly ; for, besides the dangers mentioned abu e, the
pathway was here so dark, that oftimes when he lift
up his foot to set forward, he knew not where or upon
what he should set it next.


About the midst of this valley, I perceived the mouth
of hell to be near by the way-side. Now, thought Chris-
tian, what shall I do ? And ever and anon the flame
and smoke would come out in such abundance, with
sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for
Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before,) that he was
forced to put up his sword, and betake himself to another
weapon, called All-prayer. So he cried in my hearing,
"0 Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul! Thus
he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be
reaching towards him. Also he heard doleful voices,
and rushing to and fro, so that sometimes he thought
he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like mire
in the streets. This frightful sight was seen and these
dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles
together ; and coming to a place where he thought he
heard a company of fiends coming forwardto meet him,
he stopped, and began to muse what he had best to do.
Sometimes he had half a thought to go back ; then
again he thought he might be half way through the
valley; he remembered also how he had already van-
quished many a danger, and that the danger of going
back might be much more than for to go forward ; so
he resolved to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to come
nearer and nearer ; but when they were almost at him,
he cried out with a most vehement voice, I will walk
in the strength of the Lord God !" so they gave back
and came no further.
One thing I would not let slip; I took notice that
now poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not
know his own voice; and thus I perceived it. Just
when he was come over against the mouth of the burn-
ing pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and
stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested



many grievous biamphemies to him, which he verily
thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put
Christian more to it than anything that he met with
before, even to think that he should now blaspheme
him that he loved so much before ; yet if he could have
helped it, he would not have done it ; but he had not
the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from
whence these blasphemies came.
When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate con-
dition some considerable time, he thought he heard the
voice of a man, as going before him, saying, Though
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
will fear no evil, for thou art with me."
Then he was glad.
By-and-by the day broke; then said Christian, He
hath turned the shadow of death into the morning."
Now morning being come, he looked back, not out
of desire to return, but to see, by the light of the day,
what hazards he had gone through in the dark. So he
saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand,
and the quag that was on the other ; also how narrow
the way was which led betwixt them both ; also now he
saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit,
but all afar off-for after break of day, they came not
Christian was now much affected with his deliverance
from all the dangers of his solitary way. About this
time the sun was rising, and this was another mercy to
Christian; for though the first part of the Valley of
the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet this second
part far more dangerous. From the place where he now
stood, even to the end of the valley, the way was all along
set so full of "snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and
so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down


there, that, had it now been dark, as it was when he came
the first part of the way, had he had a thousand souls,
they had in reason been cast away."
Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this val-
ley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men,
even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly; and
while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied
a little before me a cave, where two giants, POPE and
PAGAN, dwelt in old time; by whose power and tyranny
the men whose bones, blood, ashes, etc., lay there,
were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian
went without much danger, whereat I somewhat won-
dered; but I have learnt since that PAGAN had been
dead many a day; and as for the other, though he be
yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many
shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger days,
grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he can now
do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at
pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he
cannot come at them. But he held his peace, and set a
good face on it, and so went by and catched no hurt.
Then sang Christian:
"O world of wonders! (I can see no less)
That I should be preserved in that distress
That I have met with here O blessed be
That hand that from it hath delivered me !
Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin,
Did compass me, while I this vale was in:
Yea, snares and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie
My path about, that worthless, silly I
Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down;
But since I live, let JEsus wear the crown."
Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a
little asceni, which was -cast up on purpose that pil-
grims might see before them. Up there, therefore,


Christian went, and looking forward, he saw Faithful
before him, upon his journey. Then said Christian
aloud, Ho ho Soho stay, and I will be your com-
panion!" At that, Faithful looked behind him; to
whom Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up
to you." But Faithful answered, No, I am upon my
life, and the avenger of blood is behind me."
At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting
to all his strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, and
did also overrun him; so the last was first. Then did
Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had gotten
the start of his brother; but not taking good heed to
his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not
rise again until Faithful came up to help him.
Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on
together, and had sweet discourse of all things that had
happened to them in their pilgrimage; and thus they
CHRISTIAN. HOW long, dear friend, did you stay in
the City of Destruction, before you set out after me on
your pilgrimage?
FAITHFUL. Till I could stay no longer; for there
was great talk presently after you had gone out, that
our city would in a short time, with fire from heaven,
be burned down to the ground. I heard some of your
neighbors deridingly speak of you and youi desperate
journey, but I do still believe that the end of our city
will be with fire and brimstone from above.
CHRISTIAN. Did they speak of neighbor Pliable !
FAITHFUL. Oh yes! Since he hath gone back he
hath been greatly derided among all sorts of people.
He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone
out of the city. They say, hang him, he is a turncoat,
he is not true to his profession. I think God has


stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make
him a proverb because he hath forsaken the way. I
met him once in the streets, but he leered away on the
other side, as one ashamed of what he had done.
CHRISTIAN. Well, neighbor Faithful, let us leave him,
and talk of things that more immediately concern our-
selves. Tell me now what you have met with in the
way as you came.
FAITHFUL. I escaped the Slough that I perceived
you fell into, and got up *o the gate without that dan-
ger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton, who
had like to have done me a mischief.
CHRISTIAN. It was well you escaped her net; Joseph
was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you
did; but it had like to have cost him his life. But what
did she do to you ?
FAITHFUL. You cannot think, but that you know
something, what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at
me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all man-
ner of content.
CHRISTIAN. Nay, she did not promise you the con-
tent of a good conscience.
FAITHFUL. You know what I mean.
CHRISTIAN. Thank God, you have escaped her: "The
abhored of the Lord shall fall into her ditch." Did you
meet with no other assault as you came ?
FAITHFUL. When I came to the foot of the hill called
Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me
what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I am
a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the
old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou
be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall
give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he
dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that


he dwelt in the town of Deceit. He told me, that his
work was many delights; and his wages, that I should
be his heir at last. I further asked him what house he
kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me,
that his house was maintained with all the dainties in
the world; and that his servants were those of his own
begetting. Then I asked if he had any children. He
said that he had but three daughters: the Lust of the
Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life, and
that I should marry them all if I would. Then I asked
how long time he would have me live with him ? And
he told me, As long as he lived himself. At first, I
found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man,
for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his fore-
head, as I talked with him, I saw there written, Put
off the old man with his deeds."
CHRISTIAN. And how then ?
FAITHFUL. Then it came burning hot into my mind,
whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he
got me home to his house he would sell me for a slave.
So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near
the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told
me that he would send such a one after me, that should
make my way bitter to my soul. So I turned to go
away from him; but just as I turned myself to go, I
felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a
deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of
me after himself. So I went on my way up the hill.
Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind,
and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind, so he
overtook me just about the place where the settle stands.
CHRISTIAN. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down
to rest me; but being overcome with sleep, I there lost
this roll out of my bosom.


FAITHFUL. But, good Brother, hear me out. So
soon as the man overtook me, he was but a word and a
blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead.
But when I was a little come
to myself again, I asked
him wherefore he served
me so. He said, because of
my secret inclining to Adam
the First: and with that he
struck me another deadly
blow on the breast, and beat
me down backward; so I lay
at his foot as dead as before.
So, when I came to myself
again I cried him mercy;
but he said, I know not
how to show mercy; and
with that knocked me down
again. He had doubtless
made an end of me, but that
one came by, and bid him
that that bid him forbear?
FAITHFUL. I did not ',
know him at first, but as
he went by, I perceived the
holes in his hands and in his
side; then I concluded that
he was our Lord. So I DISCONTENT.
went up the hill.
CHRISTIAN. That man that overtook you was Moses.
He spareth none, neither knoweth he how to show
mercy to those that transgress his law.


FAITHFUL. I know it very well; it was not the first
time that he has met with me. It was he that came to
me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me
he would burn my house over my head if I stayed
CHRISTIAN. But did you not see the house that stood
there on the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses
met you ?
FAITHFUL. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at
it; but for the lions, I think they were asleep, for it was
about noon; and because I had so much of the day
before me, I passed by the porter, and came down the
CHRISTIAN. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go
by, but I wished you had called at the house, for they
would have showed you so many rarities, that you would
scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But
pray tell me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley of
Humility ?
FAITHFUL. Yes, I met with one Discontent who
would willingly have persuaded me to go back again
with him, as the valley was altogether without honor,
and to go there was to disobey my friends. Pride, Arro-
gancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, with others, who, he
knew, would be very much offended, if I made such a
fool of myself as to wade through this valley.
CHRISTIAN. Well, and how did you answer him.
FAITHFUL. I told him that although all these might
claim kindred of me, for indeed they were my relations
according to the flesh; yet since I became a pilgrim, they
have disowned me, as I also have rejected them; and
now were no more than if they had never been of my
lineage. I also met with Shame; but of all the men
that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears




_ J^J- -C;^^o
e~I._-~ C.








the wrong name. The others would be said nay, after
a little argumentation, and somewhat else; but this
bold-faced Shame would never have done.
CHRISTIAN. Why, what did he say to you?
FAITHFUL. What! why, he objected against religion
itself; he said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking business,
for a man to mind religion; he said that a tender con-
science was an unmanly thing; and that for a man to
watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up himself
from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the
times accustom themselves unto, would make him the
ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few
of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion.
He, moreover, objected the base and low estate and
condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims of the
times in which they lived, also their ignorance and
want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did
hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more
things than here I relate; as, that it was a shame to sit
whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to
come sighing and groaning home; that it was a s/tame
to ask my neighbor forgiveness for petty faults, or to
make restitution where I have taken from any. He
said, also, that religion made a man grow strange to the
great, because of a few vices, which he called by finer
names; and made him own and respect the base because
of the same religious fraternity. And is not this said
he, a shame ?
CHRISTIAN. And what did you say to him ?
FAITHFUL. Say I could not tell what to say at the
first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up
in my face; even this Shame fetched it up, and had
almost beat me quite off. But at last I began to con-
sider that "that which is highly esteemed among men,


is had in abomination with God." And 1 thought
again, this Shame tells me what men are, but it tells
me nothing what God or the Word of God is. And I
thought, moreover, that at the day of doom, we shall
not be doomed to death or life according to the hector-
ing spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom
and law of the Highest Therefore, thought I, what
God says is best, indeed is best, though all the men in
the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God pre-
fers his religion; seeing God prefers a tender con-
science; seeing they that make themselves fools for the
kingdom of heaven are wisest; and that the poor man
that loveth Christ is richer than the greatest man in
the world that hates him; Shamc, depart, thou art an
enemy to my salvation Shall I entertain thee against
my sovereign Lord ? How then shall I look him in the
face at his coming? Shame was a bold villain. He
would be haunting me, and continually whispering to
me some one or other of the infirmities that attend re-
ligion; but at last I told him it was but in vain to at-
tempt further in this business; so I got past this im-
portunate one.
CHRISTIAN. It was well for you. I am sure it fared
far otherwise with me; I had for a long season, as soon
almost as I entered into that valley, a dreadful combat
with that foul fiend Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he
would have killed me; especially when he got me down
and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed
me to pieces; for as he threw me, my sword flew out of
my hand; nay, he told me he was sure of me: but I
cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of
all my troubles.
Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on,
Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man


whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance beside
them; for in this place there was room enough for them
all to walk. He was a tall man, and something more
comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faith-
ful addressed himself in this manner.
FAITHFUL. Friend, whither away? Are you going
to the heavenly country ?
TALKATIVE. I am going to the same place.
FAITHFUL. That is well; then I hope we may have
your geo,l company.
TALKATIVE. With a very good will will I be your
companion. To talk.of things that are good, to me is
very acceptable, with you or with any other; and I am
glad that I have met with those that incline to so good a
work; for, to speak the truth, there are but few that care
thus to spend their time as they are in their travels, but
choose much rather to be speaking of things to no profit.
FAITHFUL. That is indeed a thing to be lamented.
TALKATIVE. I like you wonderful well, for your
sayings are full of conviction; and I will add, what tiing
is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the
things of God ? For instance, if a man doth delight to
talk of the history or the mystery of things; or if a man
doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where
shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so sweet-
ly penned, as in the Holy Scripture ?
FAITHFUL. Well, then, what is that one thing that
we shall at this time found our discourse upon ?
TALKATIVE. What you will. I will talk of things
heavenly, or things earthly; things moral, or things
evangelical; things sacred, or things profane; things
past, or things to come; things foreign, or things at
home; things more essential, or things circumstantial;
provided that all be done to our profit.


FAITHFUL began to wonder; and stepping to Christian,
he said to him softly, What a brave companion have
we got Surely this man will make a very excellent
CHRISTIAN modestly smiled, and said, This man, with
whom you are so taken, will beguile with that tongue
of his, twenty of them that know him not.
FAITHFUL. Do you know him then ?
CHRISTIAN. Know him Yes, better than he knows
FAITHFUL. Pray, what is he ?
CHRISTIAN. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in
our town. I wonder that you should be a stranger to
him. He is the son of one Say-well, and is known of
all that are acquainted with him by the name of Talk-
ative in Prating Row.
FAITHFUL. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man ?
CHRISTIAN. That is to them who have not thorough
acquaintance with him; for he is best abroad; near home,
he is ugly enough.
FAITHFUL. But I am ready to think that you but do
jest, because you smiled.
CHRISTIAN. God forbid that I should jest in this mat-
ter, or that I should accuse any falsely! I will tell you
further of him. This man is for any company, and for
any talk; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk on
the ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his crown
the more of these things he hath in his mouth; religion
hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation;
all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to
make a noise therewith.
FAITHFUL. Say you so! then am I in this man
greatly deceived.
CHRISTIAN. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remem-


ber the proverb, "They say and do not." But the
"kingdom of God is not in word, but in power." He
talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the
new birth; but he knows but only to talk of them. His
house is as empty of religion as the white of an egg is
of savor. There is neither prayer, nor sign of repent-
ance of sin there; yea, the brute in his kind serves
God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach,
and shame of religion, to all who know him. Thus say
the common people that know him, A saint abroad, and
a devil at home. His poor family finds it so; heis such
a churl, such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his
servants, that thev neither know how to do for or speak
to him. This Talkative will defraud and beguil. Be-
sides, he brings up his sons to follow his steps. I am
of the opinion that he has, by his wicked life, caused
many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevent
not, the ruin of many more.
FA1ITFUL. Well, I was not so fond of his company
at first, but I am as sick of it now. What shall we do
to be rid of him ?
CHRISTIAN. Take my advice, and do as I bid you,
and you shall find that he will soon be sick of your
company too, except God shall touch his heart and
turn it.
FAITHFUL. What would you have me do ?
CHRISTIAN. Why, go to him, and enter into some
serious discourse about the power of religion; and ask
him plainly whether this thing be set up in his heart,
house, or conversation.
FAITHFUL stepping forward again, said to Talkative,
Come, what cheer ? HIow is it now ?
TALKATIVE. Thank you, well. I thought we should
have had a great deal of talk by this time.


FAITHFUL. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now;
and since you leave it to me, I will tell you all the
truth. I have heard that you are a man whose religion
lies in talk, and that your conversation gives this your
mouth-profession the lie. They say, you are a spot
among Christians; and that religion fareth the worse
for your ungodly conversation; that some have already
stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more are in
danger of being destroyed thereby; your religion, and
an ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and
swearing, and lying, and vain-company keeping, etc.,
will stand together. You are a shame to all pro-
TALKATIVE. Since you are ready to take up reports
and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude
you are some peevish or melancholy man, not fit to be
discoursed with; and so adieu.
CHRISTIAN then came up, and said to his brother, I
told you how it would happen; your words and his
lusts could not agree: he had rather leave your com-
pany than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said;
let him go, the loss is no man's but his own; he has
saved us the trouble of going from him. You did well
to talk so plainly to him as you did; there is but little
of this faithful dealing with men nowadays, who make
religion stink in the nostrils of many, as it doth; for
they are these talkative fools whose religion is only in
word, and who are debauched and vain in their con-
versation. I wish that all men would deal with such
as you have done; then should they either be made
more conformable to religion, or the company of saints
would be too hot for them.
Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by
the way, and so made that way easy which would


otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them; for
now they went through a wilderness.
Now, when they were got almost quite out of this
wilderness, Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and
espied one coming after them, and he knew him. Oh!
said Faithful to his brother, Who comes yonder ? Then
Christian looked and said, It is my good friend Evan-
gelist. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faithful, for
it was he that set me the way to the gate. Now was
Evangelist come up to them, and thus saluted them:
EVANGELIST. Peace be with you, dearly beloved;
and peace be to your helpers.
Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things
that had happened to them in the way; and how, and
with what difficulty, they had arrived to that place.
Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have
met with trials, but that you have been victors; and
for that you have, notwithstanding many weaknesses,
continued in the way to this very day. I say, right
glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake
and yours. I have sowed, and you have reaped; and
the day is coming, when both he that sowed and they
that reaped shall rejoice together; that is, if you hold
out: "for in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not."
The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one;
"so run that you may obtain it." Some there be that
set out for this crown, and, after they have gone far for
it, another comes in, and takes it from them; hold fast,
therefore, that you have; let no man take your crown.
You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the devil; you
have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin; let
the kingdom be always before you, and believe stead-
fastly concerning things that are invisible. Let nothing
that is on thij side the other world get within you; and


above all, look well to your own hearts and to the lusts
thereof, "for they are deceitful above all things, and
desperately wicked;" set your faces like a flint; you
have all power in heaven and earth on your side.
Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation.
Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out
of the wilderness, they saw a town before them, and
the name of that town is Vanity; and at the town there
is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair; it is kept all the year
long; it is so called, because the town where it is kept
is lighter than vanity; and also because all that is there
sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity. As is the say-
ing of the wise, "all that comcth zi vanity."
This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of
ancient standing; I will show you the original of it.
Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims
walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest per-
sons are; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with
their companions, perceiving by the path that the pil-
grims made, that their way to the city lay through this
town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a
fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, and that
it should last all the year long; therefore at this fair are
all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades,
places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms,
lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts.
And at all times is to be seen juggling, cheats, games,
plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every
Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts,
murders, adulteries, false swearers, and that of a blood-
red color.
And as in other fairs of less moment, there are several
rows and streets, under their proper names, where such


and such wares are vended; so here likewise you have
ihe proper places, rows, streets, (viz., countries and
kingdoms,) where the wares of this fair are soonest to
be found. Here is the Britain Row, the French Row,
the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the German Row,
where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as
in other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief of
all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise
is greatly promoted in this fair; only our English
nation, with some others, have taken a dislike threat.
Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just
through this town where this lusty fair is kept; and he
that will go to the City, and yet not go through this
town, must needs "go out of the world." The Prince
of princes himself, when here, went through this town
to his own country, and that upon a fair day too; yea,
and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this
fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities; yea, would
have made him lord of the fair, would he but have
done him reverence as he went through the town.
Yea, because he was such a person of honor, Beelzebub
had him from street to street, and showed him all the
kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might,
if possible, allure the Blessed One to cheapen and buy
some of his vanities; but he had no mind to the mer-
chandise, and therefore left the town without laying
out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This
fair, therefore, is an ancient thing of long standing,
and a very great fair. Now these pilgrims, as I said,
must needs go through this fair. Well, so they did;
but behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the
people in the fair were moved, and the town itself as it
were in a hubbub about them; and that for several
reasons; for,

University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs