An Abridgment of the PILGRIM’s PROGRESS

From this World

To that which is to come.

AS I walked through the wilderness of this world, I laid me down to sleep, and as I slept, I dreamed; and behold, I saw a man cloathed with rags, standing with his face from his house, a book in his hand, and a great burthen 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 broke out, saying, What shall I do to be saved?

In this plight he went home, and refrained himself as long as he could, that his wife and children might not perceive his distress. But his trouble so increased that he soon burst out, “O my dear wife, and you the children of my bowels, I am undone by reason of this burthen which lieth so hard upon me. Moreover, I am certainly informed, that this our city will shortly be destroyed with fire from heaven; in which overthrow we shall all miserably perish, except some way of escape be found.” At this they were sore amazed; not that they believed what he said, but because they thought him distempered in his head. However, hoping sleep might settle him again, they in all haste got him to bed.

But the night was as grievous to him as the day. Instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. And in the morning, when they asked him “how he did” he told them, “worse and worse.” They then thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriage to him. Sometimes they would deride, sometimes chide, and sometimes quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire more to his chamber, to pray for them, and to bemoan his own misery. He would also walk solitary in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying. And thus for some days he spent his time.

Now I saw, upon a time when he was walking in the fields, that he was, as he was wont, reading his book; and as he read, he burst out as before, saying, What must 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 perceived) he could not tell which way to go. I looked then and saw a man, called
Evangelist, coming to him, who asked, “Wherefore dost thou cry?”

He answered, “Sir I perceive by the book in my hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment. And I find I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second.”

Then said Evangelist, “why not willing to die?” The man answered, because I fear that this burden which is on my back will sink me lower than the grave. And, Sir, if I am not fit to go to prison, I am not fit to go to judgment.”

“But said Evangelist, if this be thy condition, why standest thou still?” He answered, “because I know not whither to go.” Then said Evangelist, pointing over a wide field, “do you see yonder little gate? Go up directly to it and knock; and it shall be told thee what thou shalt do.”

So I saw in my dream, that the man began to run. He had not run far, before his wife and children perceiving it, began to cry after him to return: But he stopped his ears and ran on, crying, Life, life! eternal life, without once looking behind him.

The neighbours also came out, and as he ran some mocked, others threatened, and some called to him to return. And of these, two resolved to fetch him back by force; the name of the one was Obstinate, of the other ♦Pliable. He was now got a good distance from them; however, in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man, “Neighbours, wherefore are you come?” They said, “To persuade you to go back with us.” But he said, “That cannot be; you dwell in the city of Destruction, the place also where I was born. And if you die there, you will sink into a place that burns with fire and brimstone. Be content, good neighbours, and go along with me.”

What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and all our comforts behind us?

Yes, said Christian, (that was his name) for all these are not worthy to be compared with the least part of what I seek; and if you will go with me, there is enough and to spare.

Obstinate. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them?

Christian. I seek an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away?

Obstinate. Tush, away with your cant. Will you go back with us or no?

Christian. No, not I. I have put my hand to the plough.

Obstinate. Come then, neighbour, let us go home without him. There is a company of these crazy coxcombs, that when they get a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason.

Pliable. Don’t revile. Who knows but what he says is true? I have almost a mind to go with him.

Obstinate. What more fools still? Come back, come back. Who knows whither a madman may lead you?

Christian. Nay, but come with me, to the glory which shall be revealed. And if you believe not me, read here in this book, the truth of which is confirmed by the blood of him that made it.

Pliable. Neighbour Obstinate, I think I will go with this good man, and cast in my lot with him.

Obstinate. Then get you gone. I will e’en go home. I will be no companion for such whimsical fellows.

Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went on talking together.

Pliable. Come neighbour, since we are alone, tell me farther what the things are to which we are going.

Christian. I can better conceive than speak them. There is a kingdom that cannot be moved, a house eternal in the heavens, where we shall shine as the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever.

Pliable. And what company shall we have there?

Christian. There will be an innumerable company of angels, ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of saints, of holy men, out of every kindred and people, and nation. There we shall see those who were cut in pieces, burnt with fire, eaten
with beasts, for the love they bore to the Lord of the place; having now overcome sin, and death, and pain, and put on immortality as a garment.

Pliable. Glad am I to hear of these things. Come on let us mend our pace.

Now I saw in my dream, that they drew nigh to a slough that was in the midst of the plain, (it was called Despond) and being heedless, they both suddenly fell in. “Ah, neighbour, said Pliable, where are we now?” Truly, said Christian, I do not know. At this Pliable was much offended, and said, “Is this the happiness you talked of all this while? If we have such ill speed at setting out, what may we not expect before our journey’s end? If I get out hence with my life, you shall have the brave country alone for me.” And with that he gave a desperate struggle or two and got out of the mire on the side next his own house. So away he went, and Christian saw him no more.

Wherefore Christian was left in the slough alone; but still he struggled toward that side which was farthest from his own house, yet could not get out, because of his burthen. But I beheld a man come to him, whose name was Help, and asked, “What he did there.”

Christian. Sir, I was directed to go by this way to yonder gate; and as I went, I fell in here.

Then said he, “Give me thy hand.” So he
gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set him on firm ground.

But Christian had not gone far, before one met him, who was crossing over the plain. The gentleman’s name was Worldly Wiseman. Having some knowledge of Christian by report, (for his leaving the city of Destruction was noised far and near) he began thus:

World. How now good fellow, whither away?

Christian. Sir, I am going to yonder little gate.

World. Wilt thou hearken to me, if I give thee counsel?

Christian. Yea, if it be good, I will.

World. I counsel thee then, get rid of that burthen with all speed, else thou wilt never be settled in thy mind.

Christian. That is what I seek; but get it off myself I cannot: nor is there any man in our country can take it off.

World. Who bid you go this way to be rid of it?

Christian. One that appeared to me, a great and honourable person. His name I think, is Evangelist.

World. Beshrew him for his counsel. There is not a more dangerous or troublesome way in the world than this. Hear me; I am older than thou. Thou art like to meet in the way thou now goest, weariness, painfulness, nakedness, hunger, peril, sword; death itself, and what not?

Christian. Sir, this burden is worse than all these. I care not what I meet with, so I get rid of this.

World. How camest thou by it at first?

Christian. By reading this book.

World. I thought so. So it has fared with other weak men; who, meddling with things too high for them, suddenly fall into distraction, and run desperate ventures to obtain they know not what.

Christian. I know what I would obtain. It is ease from my burthen.

World. Hadst thou but patience to hear, I could direct thee to obtain that, without running into any of these dangers.

Christian. Pray, Sir, open this secret to me.

World. Why, in yonder village there lives a gentleman, whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and of good credit and fashion: he has helped abundance of men off with such burthens as thine are.

Christian. Sir, which is my way to his house?

World. You must go by yonder high hill, and the first house you come at is his.

So Christian turned out of his way. But when he was got hard by the hill, it hung so much over the way, that he was afraid to venture on, lest it should fall upon his head. Wherefore he stood still, and knew not what to do. Likewise his burthen seemed heavier than before. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made him afraid he should be burnt: insomuch that he now quaked for fear, and was sorry he came out of his way. And with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him, at the sight of whom he blushed for shame: so he came up to him, and with a severe countenance said.

Evangelist. What dost thou here? To which he knew not what to answer, but stood speechless before him.

Evangelist. Art thou not the man whom I found crying without the walls of the city of Destruction?

Christian. Yes, Sir, I am.

Evangelist. Did I not direct thee to the little gate? How is it that thou art so quickly turned aside?

Christian. I met a gentleman who told me, I might find one in yonder village that could take off my burthen.

Then said Evangelist, stand still a little that I may tell thee the words of the Lord. So he stood trembling. Then Evangelist said, See that ye refuse not him that speaketh: for if they escaped not who refused him that spoke on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven: for the just shall live by faith; but if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.

Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead. But Evangelist caught him by the right-hand, and said, All manner of sins and blasphemies shall be
forgiven unto men: be not faithless but believing. At this his spirit a little revived, and he stood up trembling before Evangelist.

Then Evangelist said, Give more earnest heed unto the things that I shall tell thee of. There are three things in the counsel of the man that met thee, which thou must utterly abhor.

1. His turning thee out of the way.

2. His labouring to make the cross odious to thee.

3. His setting thy feet in the way that leadeth to death.

First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; for this is to reject the counsel of God, seeing the Lord saith, Strive to enter in at the strait gate, the gate to which I sent thee.

Secondly, Abhor his labouring to make the cross odious to thee; for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt. Besides the Lord hath said, If any man come after me, and hate not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. The doctrine therefore which teacheth to hate or shun the cross, thou must utterly abhor.

Thou must, lastly, abhor his setting thy feet in the way that leadeth to death. For he to whom thou wast sent, legality by name, is the son of the bondwoman: and this is mount Sinai, which gendereth unto bondage, and unto death eternal. He cannot free any man of his burthen: nor is it possible
he should; for by the works of the law shall no flesh living be justified.

After this Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for the confirmation of what he had said. And there came words and fire out of the mountain. The words were these, 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 cried out with a bitter cry: nevertheless, turning to Evangelist, he said, “Sir, Is there any hope? May my sin be forgiven? May I yet go back, and enter in at that gate? Shall I not be sent away with shame?”

Then Evangelist said, “Thy sin is great; yet it may be forgiven; the man at the gate will let thee in: but take heed thou turn not aside again, lest if his wrath be kindled, yea, but a little, thou perish from the way.”

So he went on with haste; neither spoke he to any by the way. He went as one treading on forbidden ground; and could not think himself safe, till he got into the way, out of which he had turned before. He then went on with all his might till he came to the gate; over which was written, Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. He knocked therefore more than once or twice. At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Goodwill, who asked, “Who was there?”

Christian. Here is a poor burthened sinner. I come from the city of destruction, and am going to Mount Zion; and I understand I am to go thro’ this gate, if you are willing to let me in.

I am willing with all my heart, said he, and with that he opened the gate.

When Christian was stepping in, the other pulled him suddenly. Then said Christian, What means that? He replied, a little way off is a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the captain; from whence he continually shoots at those who come to this gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in. Then said Christian, “I rejoice and tremble.”

Goodwill. But who directed you hither?

Christian. One named Evangelist, who said, that you would tell me what I must do.

Goodwill. An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it. But how is it thou art come alone?

Christian. One of my neighbours came with me a little way; but then he was discouraged, and went back; and I also soon after turned aside, to go in the way of death. So that, had not Evangelist met me again, I had never come hither. And O! what a favour is this to me, that I am suffered to enter here!

Goodwill. We make no objections against any. Whatever they have done before they came, if they knock, the gate is opened to them. Him that cometh, we in no wise cast out.

But come with me, and I will teach thee concerning the road. Dost thou see this narrow way? That is the way thou must go. It was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ and his apostles.

Christian. But are there no ways that turn out of this?

Goodwill. Yes, many; but they are crooked and wide. The right way only is strait and narrow. Go on therein, till thou comest to the house of the interpreter, and he will shew thee excellent things.

So Christian went on till he came to the house; where he knocked, and asked for the master of the house. To whom, when he came, he spoke thus.

Sir, I am a man that am come from the city of Destruction, and am going to mount Zion. And I was informed by him at the gate, that if I called here, you would shew me excellent things.

Then said the Interpreter, “Come in, and I will shew thee that which will be profitable to thee.” So he took him by the hand, and led him into a large parlour that was full of dust. After a while he called for a man to sweep; which he had no sooner begun to do, than the dust so abundantly flew about, that Christian was almost choaked. Then the Interpreter said to a damsel, “Bring hither water, and sprinkle the room.” After which it was easily swept and cleansed.

This parlour, said the Interpreter to Christian, is the heart of a natural man. The dust is his original sin, and inward corruptions, of every kind. He that first began to sweep is the law; she that sprinkled it, is the gospel. Now whereas thou sawest, that by his sweeping, the dust was only raised, and the room not cleansed at all; this is to shew thee, that the law, instead of cleansing the heart from sin, doth revive and increase it in the soul. For, by the law is only the knowledge of sin; but not deliverance from it.

Again, Thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room; after which it was cleansed with pleasure: this is to shew thee, that when the gospel comes into the heart, sin is easily subdued; and the soul made clean thro’ faith, and fit for the king of glory to inhabit.

He then led me into a place, where was a fire burning against a wall, and one continually casting water upon it, yet could he not quench it, but the flame rose higher than before.

This fire, said he, is the work of grace that is wrought in a believing heart. He that casts water upon it is the devil. Yet can he not quench it, for the reason thou shalt now see. So he carried him to the other side of the wall, where was a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, out of which he continually cast into the fire, Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart, so that the devil cannot quench it. And he stands behind the wall, to shew it is hard for the tempted to see how this work is maintained in his soul.

He then took him by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was a stately palace: on the top of which were certain persons walking, who were cloathed all in gold. At the door below stood a great company of men, desirous to go in, but yet afraid. For in the door-way stood many armed men, to keep it, and drive all back. At last a man of a stout countenance came up, drew his sword, put a helmet on his head, and rushed into the midst of the armed men, who fell upon him with all their force. But after receiving and giving many wounds, he cut his way through them all, and went in. Then was heard a pleasant voice from within saying,

Come in, soldier of Christ, come in:

Eternal glory thou shalt win!

I verily think, said Christian, I know the meaning of this; now then let me go hence.

Stay, said the Interpreter, till I have shewed thee a little more. Then he took him by the hand again, and led him into a dark room, where sat a man in an iron cage; his eyes were
fixed on the ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he would break his heart.

Then said Christian, “What art thou?” He replied, I am a man of despair: I am so fast in prison that I cannot get forth.

Christian. But how camest thou there?

Man. I left off to watch and pray; I sinned against light and love; I grieved the Spirit, ♦and
he is gone from me; I tempted the devil, and he is come into me; I defied God, and he hath forsaken me.

Christian. But have you no hope? The Son of the Blessed is of tender mercy.

Man. But I have crucified him to myself afresh, I have counted his blood an unholy thing, I have done despite to the spirit of grace: and there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin; but a certain fearful looking for of fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.

Christian. But can’st thou not repent?

Man. No, never; for I have quenched the Spirit. O eternity, eternity! Who can tell the length of eternity?

Christian. Well, God help me to watch and pray. — Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way?

Interpreter. I will shew thee one thing more, and thou shalt go. So he led him into a chamber where was one rising out of bed, who shook and trembled exceedingly: then said Christian,“Why dost thou tremble thus?” This night,
said he, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens were exceeding black: also it thundered and lightened on every side. So I looked up and saw the skies divide: and I heard a great sound of a trumpet: and I saw one descend, sitting on a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven; they were all arrayed with flaming fire: also the heavens were in a burning flame. I then heard a voice out of the fire saying, “Arise ye dead and come to judgment;” and behold the rocks rent, the graves were opened, and the dead that were therein came forth: some of those looked up, and were exceeding glad, and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains. Then I saw him who sat upon the cloud open a book, and bid the world draw near; yet was there a distance, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out, and came before him. I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on him who sat upon the cloud, “Gather together the tares and chaff, and cast them into the lake that burneth with brimstone;” and the bottomless pit opened her mouth, and there came forth smoak and coals of fire. It was also proclaimed, “Gather the wheat into my garner;” and I saw many caught up in the clouds, but I was left. I then called to the mountains to fall upon me, and the rocks to cover me, but in vain: for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me. Then came all my sins
to my remembrance, and fear was on every side; so I awoke.

Then said the Interpreter to Christian, “Keep these things in thy mind, that they may be as a goad in thy side wherever thou goest; and the comforter be always with thee, and guide thee in the way that leads to the city.”

Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which I was to go, was fenced on every side with a wall, called salvation. Up this way he ran, till he came at a place where stood a cross, and somewhat below, a sepulchre. Just as Christian came to the cross, his burthen loosed, fell off, and rolled down, till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in; and I saw it no more.

Then was Christian glad, and said with a merry heart, The life that I now ♦live,
I live by faith in the Son of God; who loved me, and gave himself for me.

Then he stood awhile to look and wonder, even till the tears ran down his cheeks; and as he stood, three shining ones came and saluted him with, Peace be unto thee. Then the first said unto him, thy sins are forgiven thee; the second striped him of his rags, and cloathed him with change of raiment; and the third set a mark on his forehead, and gave him a roll, with a seal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and give it at the gate of the city.

I beheld then that he went on rejoicing, till he came to the foot of the hill difficulty. At the bottom of this was a spring, of which he drank, and was refreshed, and then he began to go up the hill. Sometimes he ran; then walked; then climbed on his hands and knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now, about the midway to the top of the hill, was a pleasant arbour, planted by the Lord of the hill, for the relief of weary travellers. Here therefore he sat down to rest, and pulled his roll out of his bosom, to read therein, and comfort himself. He also began to survey his new raiment, till he fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which held him till it was almost night: and, in his sleep, his roll fell out of his hand. Then came one to him and said, Go to the Ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. On this he started up, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill.

He now felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be comforted: but he found it not. Then was he much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself, that he had slept in the arbour on the side of the hill; and falling down, he asked God forgiveness for his folly, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went, who can tell the sorrow of his heart? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept; mean while, looking carefully on each side, if in any wise he might find it. He went thus till he came in sight of the arbour, where he had sat and slept. But that sight renewed his grief, till he broke out, “O wretched man that I am! That I should sleep in the midst of difficulty! That I should use that rest for ease to my flesh, which was intended only for the relief of the spirits of weary pilgrims! How far might I have been on my way by this! And now also the day is far spent.” By this time he was come to the arbour again; where, looking under the seat he espied his roll; with trembling and haste he caught it up. But who can tell how joyful he was? For this roll was the assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired haven. He laid it up in his bosom, gave God thanks, and with tears of joy betook himself again to his journey. He got up the hill just as the sun went down; when, lifting up his eyes, he beheld a stately palace before him, which stood by the high-way side.

So he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. But before he had gone far, he entered into a narrow passage, about a furlong from the porter’s lodge: when, looking carefully before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way. Then he was afraid, and thought to go back; but the porter perceiving him to make a halt, cried out, “Is thy strength so small? Fear them not. They are chained; and are placed there for the trial of thy faith, keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.”

Then I saw that he went on, though trembling, till he came to the gate, and asked, if he might lodge there?

Porter. I will call one of the house. So he rung a bell, and there came out a damsel, named Discretion; who, after asking him several questions, said, “I will call out one or two more of the family;” so she ran to the door, and called Piety, and Charity; who, after a little more discourse with him, brought him in; and many meeting him at the entrance, said, “Come in thou blessed of the Lord; this house was built to entertain travellers to Zion.”

They sat talking together till supper was ready. And at the table also, all their talk was about the Lord of the hill, what he had done; how great a warrior he was; and how he had fought with and slain him that had the power of death; though not without great danger to himself, and the loss of much blood.

Thus they discoursed till late at night; and then Christian was laid in a large upper chamber, the name of which was Peace. In the morning they shewed him the records of the greatest antiquity: in which was the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, the son of the Ancient of days. Here also were fully shewn the acts he had done, and the worthy deeds of many of his servants, who had subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, stopt the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire; escaped the edge of the sword, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.

The next day they took him into the armory, where they shewed him all manner of furniture, provided for pilgrims; swords, shields, helmets, breast-plates, and shoes that would never wear out. And there was here enough of these to arm as many men as there are stars in heaven for multitude.

They then armed him from head to foot, lest he should meet with assaults by the way. And when he set out, Piety, Charity, and Discretion accompanied him to the foot of the hill. Then said Christian, “As it was difficult coming up this hill, so I see it is dangerous going down.” “It is so,” said Charity, “for it is a hard thing for a man to go down into the valley of humiliation, and catch no slip by the way.” When they were come to the bottom, they gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way.

He had gone but a little way in the valley, before he espied a foul fiend coming to meet him; his name was Apollyon. Then did he cast in his mind, whether to go back, or stand his ground. But he considered he had no armour for his back, and therefore resolved to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met with him. Now the monster was hideous to behold. He was cloathed with scales; he had wings like a dragon; out of his belly came fire and smoak, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. He beheld Christian with a disdainful look, and began to question him thus:

Apollyon. Whence comest thou? And whether dost thou go?

Christian. I came from the city of Destruction and am going to mount Zion.

Apollyon. Thou art one of my subjects. All that country is mine. I am the prince and god of it. How is it that thou art fled from thy king.

Christian. I was your subject; but your service was hard, and I could endure it no longer.

Apollyon. Since thou complainest of my service, go back with me; and whatever our country affords, I will give thee.

Christian. But I have hired myself to another, even the King of Kings. How then can I go back?

Apollyon. It is common for those that have professed themselves his servants, after a while to return to me. Do thou so, and all shall be well.

Christian. I have sworn allegiance to him; and how can I go from this, without being a traitor.

Apollyon. Thou didst the same to me; and yet I will pass by all, if thou wilt now return.

Christian. I tell thee, once for all, I like his service, his wages, his government, his servants, his company, and country, better than thine; and him only will I serve.

Apollyon. Yet consider in cool blood, what thou art like to meet with in the way that thou goest. How many of his servants came to ill ends? How many have been put to shameful deaths? And yet, as good a master as he is, he cometh not to deliver them out of my hands.

Christian. His delaying to deliver them, is on purpose to try their love. And as for their ill end, as thou callest it, that is their glory. For present deliverance they ask it not; being content to wait for their reward, till their Prince shall come.

Apollyon. But what reward shalt thou have, who hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him.

Christian. Wherein?

Apollyon. Thou didst faint at setting out, in the slough of Despond. Thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burthen. Thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things. Thou wast well nigh frighted back by the lions. And when thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast seen and heard, there is pride in all thou sayest.

Christian. All this is true, and much more. But the King I serve is a merciful King; yea, I know, he is merciful to my unrighteousness, and my sins he remembreth no more.

Then Apollyon broke out into a rage, and said, “I am an enemy to thy King. I hate his person,
his people, his laws. I am come out on purpose to withstand thee.”

Christian. Beware what thou dost. I am in the King’s highway, the way of holiness.

Then did Apollyon stride quite over the way, and said, “I am void of fear in this matter. Prepare thyself to die. For no farther shalt thou go. Here will I spill thy soul.”

With that he threw a flaming dart at his breast: but Christian caught it with his shield, and drew his sword while Apollyon continued throwing darts as thick as hail. This made Christian give a little back; but he soon took courage again: yet the combat lasted for above half a day, he at length began to grow faint and weary.

Apollyon seeing this, came up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and withal Christian’s sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, “I am sure of thee now.” But as he was fetching his last blow, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; when I fall, I shall arise; and with that he gave him a dreadful thrust, which made him draw back. Christian perceiving this, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loveth us. But Apollyon, spread forth his dragon’s wings, and fled away, that Christian saw him no more.

Then there came to him a hand with some of the leaves of the tree of life, which he applied to his wounds, and they were immediately healed. After this he addressed himself to his journey, but with his sword drawn in his hand. Now at the end of this valley was another called, The valley of the Shadow of Death. The prophet Jeremiah describes it thus, A wilderness, a land of deserts and of pits, a land of drought, a land that no man (but a Christian¹) passeth through, and where no man dwelt.

¹ N. B. I cannot learn, either from scripture or experience, that every Christian passes through this.

On the right-hand of this valley was a deep ditch, that is it into which the blind have led the blind, in all ages, and have both there miserably perished together. On the left, there was a dangerous quagmire, into which whoever falls, (as David did once) finds no bottom for his foot to stand on.

The path also was exceeding narrow. So that when Christian sought to shun the ditch, he was ready to drop into the mire; and when he sought to shun the mire, to fall into the ditch. Likewise the night was so dark, that often when he lift up his foot, he knew not where he should set it next.

About the midst of the valley was the mouth of hell; and it stood hard by the way side. Now, thought Christian, What shall I do? For ever and anon the smoak and flame would come out, with such abundance of sparks and hideous noises, that he found no weapon availed but prayer. So he cried aloud, with all his might, O Lord I beseech thee deliver my soul. He walked on a great while in the midst of the flames. Also he heard doleful voices, and rushing to and fro; so that sometimes he thought he should be trodden down like mire in the streets. Thus he went on for several miles, till he heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him. At this he knew not what to do; but at length resolved to go on. They seemed to come nearer and nearer; but when they were just come up, 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.

I took notice, that Christian was now so amazed, he did not know his own voice: for just as he was over-against the mouth of the pit, one of the wicked ones stepped up softly, and whispered many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind.

When he had travelled thus for some time, he heard the voice of one 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, hoping to have company by and by; so he hasted on, and in awhile the
day broke. Then said Christian, He hath turned the Shadow of Death, into the morning.

He now looked back, not out of a desire to return, but to see the dangers he had gone through. He feared them more before; but he saw them now more clearly, because of the light of the day. And about this time the sun arose, which was another mercy. For as dangerous as the first part of the valley was, the second was more dangerous still. The way from the place where he now stood, even to the end, being so full of snares, traps, and nets; and also of pits, deep holes, and shelvings down, that, had it now been dark, he must have perished. Then said he, His candle shineth on my head, and, by his light, I go through darkness.

In this light he walked to the end of the valley, and came to a small ascent; from whence looking forward, he saw Faithful a little way before him; to whom Christian cried, “Stay, stay, till I come up.” But Faithful answered, “No; I cannot stay for none; I am upon my life; the avenger of blood is behind me.”

At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting forth all his strength, he soon got up with Faithful, and outwent him. So the last was first. Then did Christian smile, because he had got the start of his brother: but not taking heed to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell; nor could he rise again, till Faithful came to help him.

Then I saw in my dream, they went lovingly on together, discoursing of many things.

Christian. How long after me did you stay in the city of Destruction?

Faith. Till I could stay no longer; it being in every one’s mouth, that the city would shortly be destroyed with fire from heaven.

Christian. But why then did no more of them come with you?

Faith. I do not think they firmly believed it, else they could not have staid there.

Christian. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable?

♦Faith. O yes: he is now despised of all. He is seven times worse than if he had never set out.

Christian. But why should they despise him, since they despise the way which he forsook?

Faith. They say, “O hang him: he is a turncoat; he was not true to his profession.” God has stirred up his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he has forsaken the way.

Christian. Did you escape the slough of Despond?

Faith. Yes, but I met with one, whose name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief.

Christian. How did you avoid it?

Faith. I remembered an old writing, which said, Her steps take hold of hell. So I shut my
eyes. Then she railed on me, and I went my way.

Christian. Did you meet with no other assault?

Faith. Yes: at the foot of the hill Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked, “If I would be content to live with him?” I asked him his name; he said it was Adam the First. I asked what wages he would give? He told me, I should be his heir. Then I asked, how long time he would have me live with him? And he told me, “As long as he lived himself.”

Christian. And what conclusion did you come to?

Faith. At first I was inclined to go with him; but looking on his forehead, I saw there written, Put off the old man with his deeds.

Christian. And how then?

Faith. Then it came strongly into my mind, that however he flattered me now, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave. So I bade him say no more, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me and said, “He would send such a one after me, as would make my way bitter to my soul.” So I turned away from him; but just as I turned, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch, that I thought he had pulled part of me after him. This made me cry, O wretched man! So I went on up the hill.

When I was but half-way up, I looked behind me and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind. So soon as he overtook me, down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. When I was come a little to myself I asked him, Why he used me so? He said, for inclining to Adam the First. And with that he struck me another blow on the breast, and beat me down backward. When I came to myself again, I cried for mercy. But he said, “I know not to shew mercy;” and knocked me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me; but that one came by, and bade him “forbear.”

Christian. Who was he that bid him forbear?

Faith. I did not know him at first; but as he went by, I saw the holes in his hands and in his side.

Christian. The man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none that transgress his law. But did you not see the house on the top of the hill?

Faith. Yes; but it was about noon. So I past by.

Christian. Did you meet no one in the valley of Humiliation?

Faith. Yes, I met with one Shame: but I think he bears the wrong name; for I could not get quit of him. He would never have done.

Christian. Why, what did he say to you?

Faith. He said, it was a low mean thing to mind religion; and that a tender conscience was an unmanly thing: that few of the mighty, or rich, or wise, regarded it; nor any of them, till they became fools; till they were persuaded to venture the loss of all, for no body knows what. He objected also, the base and low estate of most of those who minded religion; likewise their ignorance and want of learning, yea, of natural understanding. He said, It was a shame to sit whining under a sermon, and to come sighing and groaning home: that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness; to make restitution, if I had taken from any; and, above all, to renounce all the men of credit and reputation, and to consort only with the poor and base.

Christian. And what did you say?

Faith. I knew not what to say at first, till it came into my mind, That which is highly esteemed of men, is had in abomination with God. Then I saw what God says is best, is so, though all the men in the world are against it. Therefore they who are fools for Christ’s sake, are the wisest of men; and the poor man that loveth him, is richer than he who hath thousands of gold and silver. I then said with a loud voice, Shame, depart! Thou art an enemy to my salvation. I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; neither of his ways, nor of his servants. I will confess them all before men. So shall he confess me before my Father which is in heaven.

Christian. Did you meet no body else in the valley?

Faith. No; for I had sunshine all the rest of the way, and also through the valley of the Shadow of Death.

As they went on, Faithful looking on one side, saw one walking at a distance. He was a tall man, and more comely at a distance than at hand. Faithful accosted him in this manner:

Faith. Friend, whither away? Are you travelling toward mount Zion?

Man. To the very same.

Faith. I hope then we shall have your good company.

Man. With all my heart.

Faith. Come then, let us pass the time in discoursing of things profitable.

Man. It is very acceptable to me to talk of good things. I am glad I have met those that incline to so good a work. For, to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend their time, but rather to speak of unprofitable things. And this hath been a trouble to me. For what is so pleasant as to talk of the things of God? Who would not delight to talk of miracles, wonders, and signs, which are so sweetly penned in the holy scripture?

Faith. But, to be profited by the things we talk of should be our chief design.

Man. Without doubt. And what so profitable as to talk of these things? Of the vanity of earthly things, and the excellency of things above? Or more particularly, of the insufficiency of our own, and the need of Christ’s righteousness? Of the necessity of the new birth, repentance,
faith, and prayer, and all the graces of the holy Spirit?

Faith. I am glad to hear this from you.

Man. Alas, for want of this it is that so few understand the nature of faith, and the necessity of an inward change, in order to eternal life: but ignorantly live in the works of the law, by which no flesh can be justified. But indeed a man can receive nothing except it be given him from above. All is of grace, not of works.

Faith. Well then, what shall we discourse of now?

Man. What you will. I will talk of things heavenly or earthly, things moral or evangelical; things past or to come; provided that all be done to edifying.

Now did Faithful begin to wonder, and stepping to Christian, said softly, What a brave companion have we got? At this Christian smiled, and said, “This man’s tongue will beguile twenty of them that know him not.”

Faith. Do you know him then?

Christian. Yes, better than he knows himself. His name is Talkative; he comes from our town; his religion lies in his tongue, but has no place in his heart.

Faith. Then I am greatly deceived in him.

Christian. So you are. He is one of them that say and do not. He talks of faith, of prayer, and of the new birth. But he only talks of them. He
is the stain and reproach of religion. It can scarce have a good word where he lives, thro’ him. “A saint abroad, (say his neighbours) and a devil at home.” His life has caused many to stumble and fall, and probably will cause many more.

Faith. Well, I see saying and doing are two things.

Christian. Indeed they are, but poor Talkative is not aware of this: he thinks hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and so deceives his own soul.

Faith. I am not so fond of his company now. But how shall we get rid of him?

Christian. Why, begin a serious discourse on the power of religion: and when he has approved of it, (for that he will) ask him plainly, whether it be set up in his heart, in his house, and in his conversation?

Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said, Come, what cheer? How is it now?

Talk. I thank you, I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time.

Faith. Well then, let us begin; and since you leave me to chuse the question, let it be this? How does the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man?

Talk. I perceive then our talk is to be about the power of things. Well, ’tis a very good question. I answer thus; first, where the grace
of God is in the heart, it causes a great outcry against sin. Secondly, —

Faith. Nay, hold. Let us consider one at once. I think you should rather say, it causeth the soul to abhor sin.

Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring sin?

Faith. O, a great deal. I have heard many cry out against sin, who could abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. Some cry out against sin, as a mother cries out against the child in her lap: when she calls it slut and naughty girl; and then falls to kissing and hugging it.

Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

Faith. No, not I. I am only for setting matters right. But what is the second thing, which discovers a work of grace in the heart?

Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries.

Faith. This sign should have been first: but, first or last, it is good for nothing. For there may be great knowledge, of the mysteries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace in the heart: yea, though a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing; and consequently no child of God. When Christ said, Do ye know all these things? And the disciples answered, yes: he said, Happy are ye if ye do them. He doth not lay the blessing in knowing, but in doing them. Therefore this sign also is not true.

Talk. You lie at the catch again. This is not for edification.

Faith. Well, if you please, mention any other sign how this work of grace is discovered.

Talk. Not I; for I see we shall not agree.

Faith. Will you give me leave to do it?

Talk. You may use your pleasure.

Faith. A work of grace in the soul is discovered to him that has it thus: first, He is convinced of sin, especially of the entire corruption of his nature, and of unbelief; for which he is condemned already, and hath the wrath of God abiding on him. Secondly, He receiveth redemption in Christ’s blood, the ♦forgiveness of sins. Thirdly, Being justified by faith, he hath that peace of God which passeth all understanding. Fourthly, He rejoiceth in hope of the glory of God; he rejoiceth that he hath now received the atonement, the Spirit of God bearing witness with his spirit, that he is a child of God. Fifthly, The love of God is shed abroad in his heart, by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him. And, lastly, Hereby he knoweth he is of God, because he keepeth his commandments and sinneth not.

It is discovered to others. 1. By his open confession of this faith, and peace, and joy, and love, and power over sin. 2. By a life answerable thereto; by universal obedience, by holiness in all manner of conversation.

Would you object any thing to this? If not, give me leave to propose a second question.

Talk. Nay, propose what you will.

Faith. Do you experience these things in your own heart? And doth your life answer thereto? Pray, say no more than your conscience can justify you in, and what you know God will say Amen to. For not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth.

Talk. This kind of discourse I did not expect, nor am I disposed to answer such questions. I am not bound to take you for my catechizer; and I do not understand why you ask them.

Faith. I ask them, because (to tell you the truth) I have heard that your religion lies in talk; that your life gives the lie to your profession; that you are a spot among Christians; and, by your unholy conversation, bring a reproach on that worthy name whereby we are called.

Talk. Since you judge so rashly, and are so ready to take up evil reports, you are not company for me; so farewel.

Then came up Christian, and said, I told you how it would be. You did well to speak plainly. I wish all men would deal with such men as you have done, and then either they would themselves come to be truly religious, or the company of those that are so would be too hot for them.

While he was yet speaking, they saw Evangelist coming after them, who soon overtook them, and said, “Peace be unto you. How
hath it fared with you, my friends, since the time of our last parting?”

Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to them on the way.

Evangelist. I am glad that in all things ye are more than conquerors. I have sowed, and ye have reaped; and the day is coming, when both he that sowed, and they that reaped, shall rejoice together; that is, if ye endure to the end. For in due time ye shall reap, if ye faint not.

“My sons, you have heard in the words of the truth of the gospel, that ye must, thro’ much tribulation, enter into the kingdom of heaven. Therefore you cannot expect to go long on your pilgrimage, without meeting that whereto ye are called. You have found something of the truth of these testimonies already, and more will soon follow. For you will come to a town by and by, where you will be hard beset with enemies. But be ye faithful unto death, saith the Lord, and I will give you a crown of life.”

Then I saw in my dream, that almost as soon he had left them, they came in sight of a town called Vanity, where a great fair is kept all the year long, called Vanity-fair.

At this fair are sold houses, lands, trade, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms; delights of all sorts, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, silver, gold, precious stones, blood, lives, bodies and souls of men.

Moreover, here are at all times to be seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, knaves, and those of every kind. Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, extortion, rapine, revenge, thefts, murders, adulterers, false swearers, and that of a blood-red colour.

Now the way to mount Zion lies just thro’ the place where this fair is kept; and he that would not go thro’ this fair, must needs go out of the world. Hither therefore Christian and Faithful came: but no sooner did they appear, than all the people in the fair were moved, and the town itself was in an uproar; and that for several reasons: for, 1. Their raiment was quite different from that of any that traded in the fair. 2. So was their speech; for they spoke the language of Canaan, which few there understood: so that from one end of the fair to the other, the men of the fair and they seemed barbarians to each other: and, 3. They set light by all that was sold there; they cared not so much as to look upon it; and if any called to them, they looked up and cried, Turn away my eyes from beholding vanity.

To one who mocking, asked them, “What will you buy?” They answered, “We buy the truth.” At that the uproar increased; some taunting, some railing, and some calling upon others to smite them. Now was word brought to the great one of the fair, who sent some of his trusty friends, to enquire what these men were.
So they were brought before him and asked, Whence they came? Whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb? The men answered, “That they were strangers and pilgrims in the world; that they were going to their own country; and that they had given no occasion to the men of the town thus to abuse and stop them in their journey.” But the examiners said, “Either they were stark mad, or that they came on purpose to put all things into confusion.” Therefore they took them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, to be a spectacle to all. But the men being patient, and not rendering railing for railing, but contrarywise blessing, some less prejudiced men began to check the baser sort, for their continual abuses to them. These flew at them again, telling them they were as bad as the men in the cage, and ought to be put with them. The others replied. “That, for ought they could see, the men meant no body any harm; and that there were many in the fair who deserved to be punished more than those they thus abused.” After many words, they fell to blows among themselves. Then were these two examined again, and charged with being the authors of all this mischief. So they beat them, and led them in chains up and down the fair, for a terror to others, least they should again speak in their behalf. But Christian and Faithful behaved yet more wisely, and received all the contempt that
was put upon them with such meekness, that it won to their side several of the men in the fair. This put the others into a still greater rage, so that they concluded upon their death. Mean while they remanded them to the cage, and made their feet fast in the stocks.

When a convenient time was come, they were brought forth, and arraigned. The judge’s name was Lord Hategood. The substance of their indictment was this “That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their trade; that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and won over some to their own pestilent opinions.”

The first witness against Faithful was Envy, who spoke to this effect. “My Lord, this man is one of the vilest men in our country. He neither regards prince nor people, law nor customs; but is continually turning the world upside down. And I myself heard him affirm, that the customs of our town and Christianity could not be reconciled.”

They then called Superstition, who spake thus: “My Lord, I have not much knowledge of this man, neither do I desire it; but this I know, ♦that
he is a pestilent fellow, and of very dangerous principles. I heard him say, that our religion was naught, and such as it was impossible to please God by. And your lordship very well knows, what must follow from thence: that we worship in vain, and are still in our sins.”

Then was Pickthank called, and deposed as follows:

“My Lord, I have heard this fellow rail on our noble prince Beelzebub; yea and speak contemptuously of his most honourable friends: nay, he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my Lord, in the same terms, with which he has bespattered most of the nobility and gentry of our town.”

The judge then said, thou traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee?

Faith. May I speak a few words?

Judge. Sirrah, thou deservest to be slain immediately upon the place; but that all men may see our gentleness to thee, we will hear what thou hast to say.

Faith. I say, that all the customs of this place are flatly opposite to the word of God: that your worship, being void both of faith and love, is an abomination to the Lord; and that your prince with all his attendants, are only fit for that hell which is prepared of old for him and his angels.

Judge. Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard this man’s own confession. What think ye?

Jury. We are all agreed. He is guilty of death.

Immediately after, sentence was past, they brought him out, to do with him according to their law. And, after they had scourged him, and buffeted him, they tied him to a stake, and then burnt him to ashes.

Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and horses waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as the earthly tabernacle was dissolved) was straightway carried therein thro’ the clouds. But Christian was remanded to prison, and shortly after discharged; he that hath the hearts of all men in his hand, over-ruling the malice of his enemies.

But he went not forth alone; for one, whose name was Hopeful, (having been won by their meekness and patience in suffering) resolved to accompany him wherever he went. He also told Christian, that there were many more of the men in the fair, that would take their time and follow after.

So they went on without stopping or looking behind them, till they came to a pleasant plain, called Ease; but it was narrow, so that they were quickly over it. On the farther side was a little hill, called Lucre, and in that hill a silver mine, which many who went that way, had formerly turned aside to see: but the ground breaking in with them, they miserably perished. A little way off, over against it, stood one, who called to Christian and his fellow, “Ho! turn aside hither, and I will shew you a thing.”

Christian. For what thing should we turn out of our way?

Man. Here is a mine of silver. Come and see.

Hopeful. Let us go and see it.

Christian. Not I. I have heard of this place before, and how many have been slain here; that treasure is a snare to them that seek it, and hindreth them in their pilgrimage.

Man. Will you not come over and see?

Christian. Demas, I know thee, who thou art. Thou art an enemy to the right ways of the Lord. Thou hast been already condemned for turning aside from his way. And wouldest thou bring us into the same condemnation? Rather shall thy money perish with thee. So they went their way.

Now I saw that on the other side of the plain, stood an old monument, at the sight of which they were surprised; for it seemed as if it had been a woman transformed into a pillar. For some time they could not tell what to make of it, till they espied a writing upon the head, which was, Remember Lot’s wife. Ah, my brother, said Christian, this is a seasonable sight. Had we gone over to view the hill Lucre, we had, for ought I know, been made like this woman a spectacle to all generations.

Hopeful. How justly might I have been as she is! She only looked back; and I desired to go and see. I am ashamed such a thought should be in my heart.

Christian. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help in time to come. This woman escaped one judgment; for she fell not in the destruction of Sodom; yet she was destroyed by
another. She was turned, as we see, into a pillar of salt.

I saw then that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David calleth, The river of God, but John, the river of the water of life. Now their way lay on the bank of the river. Here they walked with great delight; they drank also of the water of the river, which was enlivening to their weary spirits. And on the banks on either side, were green trees for all manner of fruit; and the leaves were for the healing of the nations. On each side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with flowers; and it was green all the year long. In this they lay down and slept; for here they might lie down safely: but being not yet at their journey’s end, after a short time they departed.

They had not journied far, before the river and the way divided from each other. At this they were not a little sorry; yet they durst not go out of the way. The path now grew more and more rough, and their feet were tender with travelling. So the souls of the pilgrims were much discouraged, by reason of the way. Now a little before them there was a meadow on the left hand, and a stile to go over into it. Then said Christian, if this meadow lies along by our way-side let us go into it. He went to see, and a path lay along by the way, on the other side of the fence. “’Tis as I wished, said Christian; here is a smooth path; come let us go over.”

Hopeful. But how if it should lead us out of the way?

Christian. Nay, look, does it not go along by the road-side? So Hopeful went after him over the stile. When they were gone over, they found the path very easy for their feet; and withal, they saw one walking before them. They called and asked him, Whither that way led? He said, to mount Zion. Look there, said Christian. Did I not tell you so? So they followed, and he went before them; but the night coming on, they soon lost sight of him.

He that went before (Vain-confidence by name) not seeing the way, (for it was very dark) fell into a deep pit, which was dug there on purpose, and was dashed to pieces with his fall.

Now they heard him fall, and called to know what was the matter; but there was none to answer, except with groans. Then said Hopeful, Where are we now? But Christian was silent, fearing he had led him out of the way. And now it began to thunder and lighten, and rain; and the waters in the meadow rose amain.

Then Hopeful groaned in himself, and said, O that I had kept on my way!

Christian. Who would have thought that this path should have led us out of the way?

Hopeful. I was afraid at first, and should have spoke plainer, but that you are older than I.

Christian. I am sorry I brought you out of the way. But we must not stand still. Let us go back.

Hopeful. Let me go before.

Christian. No. I led you out of the way. If there be any danger, let me be first therein.

Hopeful. Nay, you shall not go first; for your mind being troubled, may bring you out of the way again. But by this time the waters were greatly risen, so that the way was very dangerous. Yet they resolved to go as far as they could. But it was so dark, and the flood so high, that they could not, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night. Wherefore, at last they sat down under a tree till day should break; but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was not far off a castle called Doubting-castle, the owner whereof was giant Despair, who rising early in the morning, and walking out, found Christian and Hopeful asleep in his ground. With a surly voice, he bid them awake, and asked, whence they came, and what they did there? They told him they were pilgrims that had lost their way. Then said the giant, you have trespassed upon my ground, and therefore must go along with me. So he drove them before him into his castle, and cast them into a dark and dismal dungeon, where they sunk in the mire and dirt. And here they lay, without bread, or water, or light, or any to care for, or comfort them.

The next morning the giant came to them again, and beat them in such a manner, that they were scarcely able to help themselves, or to turn themselves upon the floor; then he left them to bewail their misery, and to mourn under their distress: so that all that day they spent their time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The day following he returned, and perceiving them to be sore with the blows they had received, he told them, that since they were never likely to escape, their best way was to put an end to their trouble at once. “For what good,” said he, “will life do you? It is only heaping sorrow upon sorrow.” He then left them to consider what to do; and they began consulting together as follows.

Christian. Brother, what shall we do? Is it better to live thus, or to die out of hand? In truth, my soul chuseth strangling rather than life, and the grave is easier for me than this dungeon.

Hopeful. Why, death would be far more welcome to me, than to abide thus for ever. But yet let us consider, our Lord has said, thou shalt do no murder: and if we are forbidden to kill another, much more to kill ourselves: for he that kills another, kills only his body; but he that kills himself, kills both body and soul. Besides, you talk of ease in the grave: but have you forgot the hell whither murderers go? And let us consider again, that all the law is not in the hand of giant Despair. Others, I understand, have been taken by him as well as we; and yet have escaped out of his hands. Who knows but God may strike him with death? Or that sometime he may forget to lock us in? For my part, I am resolved to take heart, and to try the utmost to get from under his hand. However, let us endure awhile. The time of release may come: and if not, whatever God permits, let us not be our own murderers.

Toward evening the giant came again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel. But finding them alive, he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, since they would not obey him, it should be far worse with them than if they had never been born.

He went back, and they began to consult again, whether they should take his advice or no? Christian seemed to incline to it again: but Hopeful replied as follows:

“My brother, remembrest thou not, how valiant thou hast been heretofore? Apollyon could not destroy thee, nor all thou didst meet in the valley of the Shadow of Death. What hardships hast thou already gone through? And art thou now nothing but fears? Thou seest I am in the dungeon as well as thou: also the giant has wounded me as much as thee. He hath cut off the bread and water from my mouth too; and I too mourn without the light. However, in our patience let us possess our souls. Who knows how soon a change may come?”

The next morning the giant took them into the castle-yard, and shewed them the bones and sculls with which it was strewed. “These, said he, were once pilgrims as you are, and they trespassed on my ground; and, when I saw fit, I tore them in pieces, as within ten days I will do you, get you down till then into your dungeon.” So he drove them back, and shut them in.

That night, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till near break of day.

Now, a little before it was day, Christian as in amaze, broke out, “What a fool am I to continue in this noisome dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty? I have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded open any lock in Doubting-castle.” “That, said Hopeful, is good news indeed; pluck it out of thy bosom and try.”

Then Christian tried it at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease. They went next to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and, with this key, opened that door also. The iron gate was next: but that lock went very hard. Yet in awhile did the key open it: so they stopped not till they came to the king’s highway, where they were out of the giant’s jurisdiction.

Then they went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where were gardens and orchards, and vineyards, and fountains of water: here they drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the fruit of the vineyards. Now there were on the top of these mountains, shepherds feeding their flocks by the way-side. The pilgrims therefore went to them, and asked, whose mountains are these? And whose are the sheep that feed upon them?

Shepherd. These mountains are Immanuel’s land, and they are within sight of his city. And the sheep that feed here are his also, and he laid down his life for them.

Christian. Is there any relief in this place for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way?

Shepherd. The lord of these mountains has given a charge, not to be forgetful to entertain strangers: “Therefore the good of the place is before you.” So they took them by the hand, and led them to their tents. After a short refreshment, (it being now late) they all betook them to their rest.

In the morning they called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains. So they went forth and walked with them, having a pleasant prospect on every side. From thence they led them to the top of a hill called Error, which was very steep on the further side, and bid them look down to the bottom. They looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed to pieces by a fall from the top. Then said Christian, who are these? “Have you not heard,” said the shepherds, “of them that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymenæus and Philetus, concerning the resurrection of the body? These that you see lie dashed in pieces are they; and they continue unburied to this day, for an example to others, that they clamber not too high, nor come too near the brink of this mountain.”

*Then I saw in my dream, that the shepherds had them to another place, where was a door in the side of a hill. They opened the door and bad them look in. They looked, and saw that it was very dark and smoaky; also they heard a roaring noise, as of fire, and cries and groans, as of men in torment. Then said Christian, what means this? This, answered the shepherds, is a bye-way to hell; a way that hypocrites go, and those that did run well, but do not endure to the end. Then said the pilgrims, looking on each other, We have need to cry to the strong for strength. “True,” said the shepherds, “and you have need to use it when you have it too.”

When they were about to depart, one of the shepherds gave them a note of the way. Another bid them, “Beware of the flatterer.” The third said, “Sleep not on inchanted ground.” So they went down the mountains, along the highway. Now a little below the mountains, on the left-hand, lies the country of Conceit; from which country a little crooked lane runs into the way where the pilgrims walked. Here they met with a very brisk young man, who came out of that country: his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked, “Whence he came, and whither he was going?”

Ignorance. Sir, I was born in the country that lies on the left-hand, and am going to mount Zion.

Christian. And how do you think to get there?

Ignorance. As other good people do.

Christian. But what have you to shew at the gate, that it may be opened to you?

Ignorance. Why, I do no harm. I pay every man his own. I work hard for an honest living. I say my prayers, and keep my church, and go to the sacrament, and do what good I can.

Christian. But you came not in at the strait gate. You came in through that crooked lane; and therefore I fear, whatever you think of yourself, you will at that day be judged a thief and a robber.

Ignorance. Gentlemen, you are strangers to me; be content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow that in which I was born and bred. I won’t leave the church. As for the gate you talk of, all the world knows, it is a great way off our country. I cannot think that any men in all our parts do so much as know the way to it; nor need they matter, since we have a fine green lane, as you see, that comes straight down into the way.

Christian. This man is wise in his own conceit. There is more hope of a fool than of him.

Hopeful. Perhaps we should not say all to him at once, let us pass on, and speak to him again by and by.

So they went on, and Ignorance came after. When they had past him a little way, they came into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying back to the door on the side of the hill. On his back was a paper with this inscription, The just shall live by faith; but if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.

This puts me in mind, said Christian, of what happened to a pilgrim here, whose name was Little-faith. At the entrance of this passage there comes down, from Broad-way Gate, a lane, called Deadman’s-Lane. This Little-Faith chanced to sit down there, and fell asleep. Three brothers, Faintheart, Mistrust, and Guilt, were just then coming down that lane as he awaked, and was getting up to go on his journey. They immediately called to him to stand, and bid him deliver what he had; which he not doing readily, Faintheart and Mistrust stepped up and took it from him. He then cried out, Thieves; on which Mistrust, with a great club, struck him on the head, and felled him to the ground: but just then hearing some that were upon the road, and fearing it might be one Great-Grace, they left Little-Faith to shift for himself, and fled away with all speed.

Hopeful. Doubtless these three fellows were mere cowards, or they would not so soon have run away. Methinks Little-Faith might have stood one brush with them, if he had yielded at last.

Christian. Few have found them cowards. They once set upon me; and though I was cloathed in armour of proof, I found it hard work to quit myself like a man. No man knows what a combat that is, but he that has been engaged in it himself.

Hopeful. Well, but they ran away as soon as they only supposed that Great-Grace was a coming.

Christian. No marvel; for he is the King’s champion. But all the King’s subjects are not his champions; nor can they, in the day of trial, do such feats of war as he.

Hopeful. I would I had been Great-Grace for their sakes.

Christian. If it had been he, he might have had his hands full. For I must tell you, although he can deal with them as long as he keeps them at sword’s point; yet if ever they get within him, it will go hard but they will give him a sore fall.

Besides, their King is always at their call, ready to come to their help. And of him it is said, The sword of him that layeth at him, cannot hold the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. Darts are counted as stubble. He laugheth at the shaking of the spear.

When therefore we hear of such robbers as these, it behoveth us to go out well harnessed, and be sure to have a good shield; for indeed if that be wanting, they fear us not at all: therefore he that hath skill hath said, Above all, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.

’Tis good also that we desire the King, that he would go with us himself; and then we need not be afraid if thousands had set themselves against us round about: but without him the proud helpers shall fall under the slain.

So they went on till they came to a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, which seemed to lie as straight as the other, insomuch that they knew not which to take. As they were standing to consider, a man of black flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came smiling to them, and lovingly asked, “Why do you stand here?” They answered, “We are going to mount Zion, but know not which of these ways to take.” “I am glad, said the man, you are of so good a mind. Few men are so wise as you. Follow me, my dear friends, and I will shew you the way. Such as you deserve to be honoured of all men.” So they followed him, till, by little and little the way turned, and their faces were set toward the city of Destruction. And before they were aware, they were got within the compass of a net, which he drew upon them and held them fast. The white robe then fell off the black man’s back; and they saw where they were, but could not escape.

Then said Christian, I see my error now. Did not the shepherds tell us to beware of the flatterer? How true is that word, A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet!

Hopeful. They also gave us a note of direction about the way; but we forgot to read it, else we should have kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer. Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net, when they saw a shining one coming toward them, with a whip of small cords in his hand. He asked, What do ye here? They answered, We were led out of the way by a black man cloathed in white. He is a flatterer, said he, a false apostle, Satan transformed into an angel of light. So he rent the net, and said, “Follow me;” and led them back into the way they had left. Then he asked them, “Did not the shepherds on the mountains give you a note of the way? Why did you not read it? And did they not bid you beware of the flatterer?” They were speechless. So he commanded them to lie down, and chastised them sore, saying, As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore and repent.

I saw then in my dream, that they arose and went on, until they came into a country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy. And here Hopeful began to be very heavy, and said to Christian, “I can scarce hold open my eyes; let us lie down and sleep awhile.”

Christian. By no means, lest we wake no more.

Hopeful. Why, my brother? The sleep of a labouring man is sweet.

Christian. Do you not remember the caution of the shepherd, sleep not on inchanted ground?

Hopeful. I acknowledge my fault. I see it is true, as the wise man saith, Two are better than one.

Christian. To prevent drowsiness then, let us discourse a little together. How came you at first to look after the good of your soul?

Hopeful. For a long time I delighted in those things which are seen and sold at our fair, in the riches and pleasures of the world, till I heard from Faithful and you, that the end of these things is death.

Christian. But was you fully convinced of this at once?

Hopeful. No; I strove to stifle my convictions; and when my mind was shaken with the word
of God, laboured to shut my eyes against the light.

Christian. How so?

Hopeful. I knew not that this was the work of God upon me, but called it lowness of spirits; and sin was so sweet to me, that I was loth to leave it; besides, I could not tell how to part with my old companions.

Christian. Then it seems you shook off your troubles sometimes.

Hopeful. Yes; but it came again worse than before.

Christian. What was it that brought your sins to your mind again?

Hopeful. Many things: as, if I met but a good man in the street; or if I heard one read the bible; or, if my head began to ake; or, if I was told of any that was sick; or, if I heard the bell toll for one that was dead; or, if I thought of dying myself or heard of a sudden death: but, above all, when I thought I must quickly come to judgment.

Christian. But could you not shake off your thoughts?

Hopeful. No; they got faster hold upon me, till I could have no rest in sin.

Christian. And how did you then?

Hopeful. I thought I must mend my life; and so I did, leaving my old sins and company too. Likewise I began to read, and pray, and fast, and go to church, and to the sacrament, and to do
good. And now for a time I thought all was well; but it was not long before my trouble came again.

Christian. How so? Had you not reformed your life?

Hopeful. Yes; but I had not reformed my heart. I found that was still as bad, or worse than ever; full of anger, pride, lust, and what not? I found my inward parts were very wickedness; that I was earthly, sensual, and devilish, having still a carnal mind that was enmity against God, and brought me into captivity to sin and death. I saw more and more, that there dwelt in me no good thing; no love of God; no true love of my neighbour. Above all, I was convinced I had not faith; not that faith which overcometh the world: and that was always sounding in my ears, He that believeth not shall be damned.

Christian. And what effect had this?

Hopeful. I then remembered that it is written, All our righteousness is as filthy rags, availing nothing toward our reconciliation with God, or the forgiveness of our sins. I saw that all I could do all my life long, would not atone for one sin that was past; nay, though I could now keep all God’s law, and offend in no point. For if a man (thought I) runs a hundred pounds into a merchant’s debt, and after that pays for all that he takes; yet if this old debt stands still in the book uncrossed, the merchant may sue him, and cast him into prison, till he shall pay the whole.

Christian. How did you apply this to yourself?

Hopeful. Why I thought with myself, I have by sin run far in debt with God, and my reforming now will not pay that debt. How then shall I be freed from that damnation, to which I know myself to be justly exposed, by my former transgressions?

Besides, I still saw sin mixing itself with the best actions I could do: So that I was forced to conclude, that, notwithstanding my former opinion of myself, I committed sin enough in one day to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless.

Christian. And what did you do then?

Hopeful. I knew not what to do, till I went and talked with Faithful; who told me, unless I had an interest in the righteousness of one that had never sinned, neither my own righteousness, nor all the righteousness of the world, could save me. I asked, who it was that had never sinned? He answered, “the Lord Jesus: and you only can be forgiven and accepted with God through faith in his blood.” “But how, said I, can his righteousness justify me before God?” He told me, he was the mighty God, and did what he did, and died the death also, not for himself, but for me; to whom the merits of all should be imputed, if I believe on him. I replied, “I did not think he was willing to save me.” He bid me go to him and see. I said, “It was presumption.” He answered, “No; for I was invited to come.” Then I asked, what must I do when I come? And he bid me say to this effect: “God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus; for I see, if I have not faith in his blood, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard, that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained him to be the Saviour of the world; and moreover, that thou art willing to accept, in him, even such a poor sinner as I am. O magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ!”

Christian. And did you do this?

Hopeful. Yes, over and over, before I found any relief.

Christian. Had you not thoughts then of giving it over?

Hopeful. Yes, a hundred times; but I knew not what else to do, being convinced, that without Christ, all the world could not save me; and therefore, thought I with myself, if I leave off, I die; and I can but die, if I continue. And withal this came into my mind, If it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come; it will not tarry.

Christian. And how was you relieved?

*Hopeful. One day I was very sad, I think sadder than ever before in my life, and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins; and I was looking for nothing but hell, when suddenly I saw (not with my bodily eyes) the Lord look down from heaven
upon me, saying, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.

Then those scriptures came like a flood into my heart. He that cometh to me, shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me, shall never thirst. Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. He hath died for our sins, and rose again for our justification. There is one mediator between God and man, even the man Christ Jesus. Wherefore he is able to save unto the uttermost those that come unto God through him; seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.

Christian. And what effect had this upon your spirit and life?

Hopeful. I was filled with a peace that passeth all understanding. I rejoiced with joy unspeakable. The love of God was shed abroad in my heart; and sin had no more dominion over me; but I ran the way of his commandments, now he had set my heart at liberty.

I saw then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back, and saw Ignorance, whom he had left behind, coming after. Then, said he come away, man: why do you stay behind? Come, how do you do? How stands it now between God and your soul?

Ignorance. I hope well, for I am full of good thoughts.

Christian. What good thoughts?

Ignorance. Why, I think of God and heaven.

Christian. So do the devils and damned souls.

Ignorance. But I desire them too.

Christian. So do many that never came there. The soul of the sluggard desireth and hath nothing.

Ignorance. Nay but I leave all for them.

Christian. I doubt that. Why dost thou think so?

Ignorance. My heart tells me so.

Christian. He that trusteth his own heart, is a fool.

Ignorance. Ay if his heart be evil; but mine is good.

Christian. How dost thou prove that?

Ignorance. Why I lead a good life.

Christian. Who told thee thou leadest a good life?

Ignorance. Who told me! My own heart.

Christian. Ask my fellow if I be a thief. Thy heart tells thee so! Except the word of God bear witness in this matter, other testimony is nothing worth.

Hast thou the peace of God? Hast thou joy in the Holy Ghost? Is the love of God shed abroad in thy heart? Doth his Spirit witness with thy spirit, that thou art a child of God? Hast thou redemption in Christ’s blood, the forgiveness of thy sins? Art thou dead unto sin, and alive unto God? Hast thou crucified the flesh, with its affections and lusts? Hath the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, made thee free from the law of sin and death?

Ignorance. You talk too high for me? I am a poor sinner, and I believe in Christ, and that is enough.

Christian. I fear, hell is full of such poor sinners as thou. But how dost thou believe in Christ?

Ignorance. Why, I believe Christ died for sinners, and that my sins will be forgiven, through God’s gracious acceptance of my sincerity and best endeavours to obey his laws.

Christian. 1. Thou believest then with a fantastical faith; for this faith is no where described in the word. 2. Thou believest with a false faith; because thou takest justification from the blood and righteousness of Christ, and appliest it to thy own. 3. This first maketh Christ not a justifier ♦of
thy person, but of thy actions; and of thy person, for the sake of thy actions. Therefore this faith is utterly deceitful, and will leave thee under wrath in the day of the Lord.

True justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon flying for refuge to the blood and righteousness of Christ. And this righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which he maketh thy obedience acceptable to God for thy justification.

No, but Christ did and suffered what was required at our hands; and for the sake of what he did and suffered, we are pardoned and accepted of God.

Ignorance. And so you would have us do nothing! We may live as we list; since we are justified by faith alone!

Christian. As thy name is, so art thou. Thou art ignorant of the fruits of faith in the blood of
Christ. He that believeth in Christ, loveth God; and whosoever loveth him keepeth his commandments.

Hopeful. Was Christ ever revealed to you?

Ignorance. What, you are for new revelations! And receiving the Holy Ghost, I suppose! I believe what both you and all the rest of you say about these matters, is all whim and enthusiasm, the effects of mere imagination, or a distempered brain.

Hopeful. Why, man, None knoweth the Son save he unto whom the Father revealeth him: and no man calleth Jesus Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.

Ignorance. That is your faith but it is not mine: yet mine, I doubt not is as good as yours; though I have not my head filled with so many whims and fancies.

Christian. Give me leave to put in a word: you ought not to speak so slightly of this matter: for no man can know Jesus Christ, save he to whom the Father revealeth him: and that faith whereby the soul layeth hold on Christ, must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his mighty power. Of this faith I perceive thou art wholly ignorant. Awake thou that sleepest. Know thyself. See thy own weakness. Fly to the Lord Jesus, and by his righteousness thou shalt be delivered from condemnation.

Ignorance. You walk so fast, I cannot keep pace with you; go on, I must stay awhile behind.

Do you think, said Hopeful, that such men as these have never any convictions of sin?

Christian. Without doubt they have, more or less, but they desperately stifle them.

Hopeful. Nay, why should they stifle them?

Christian. 1. Because they think these fears are wrought by the devil, which indeed are wrought of God. 2. They think also, they have no reason thus to fear, and therefore harden themselves in presumptuous confidence. 3. They see these fears would rob them of their beloved self-righteousness, and therefore resist them with all their might.

*Now I saw in my dream, that by this time they were got over the inchanted ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, the way lying directly over it. They were now far beyond the valley of the ♦Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of giant Despair; neither could they, from this place, so much as see Doubting-castle. In this country there is no darkness at all, the sun shining night and day; there are no storms or tempests, but the air is always calm and serene. Here the flowers all the year appear in the earth, throughout the perpetual spring: and they continually heard the singing of birds, and the voice of the turtle in the land. They were now within sight of the city they were going to; and met with several of the inhabitants of it. Yea, in this land their Lord himself commonly walked. It being on the borders of heaven. In this land also the contract between the bride and bridegroom was renewed: and as a bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them. Here they had no want of corn or wine, but abundance of all things, being in a land that flowed with milk and honey. Mean time they heard voices out of the city, loud voices, saying, Say ye to the daughter of Zion, behold thy salvation cometh: and all the inhabitants of the country called them, the holy people, the redeemed of the Lord.

As they walked in this land, they rejoiced evermore; yea, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. And drawing near to the city, they had a more perfect view thereof. It was built of pearls and precious stones, and the streets were paved with gold. So that Christian with desire fell sick; nor indeed was Hopeful much better. Insomuch that they were constrained to cry out, Feed me with apples, stay me with flagons; for I am sick of love.

When they were strengthened a little, they went on their way, and came nearer and nearer; where were orchards, vineyards and gardens. The gardener stood in the way, and leading them into the vineyard, bid them refresh themselves with the fruit. He also shewed them here the King’s walks and arbours, where they delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept.

So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the city; but the reflection of the sun (for the city was pure gold) was so extremely glorious, that they were not able to behold it with open face; but only thro’ a glass. And as they went on there met them two men in raiment shining like gold; also their faces shone as the light.

These asked the pilgrims, Whence they came? Where they had lodged? What difficulties ♦and
dangers, and what comforts they had found in the way? To all which they answered briefly. Then said they, “You have but two difficulties more, and you enter into the city.”

Christian then and his companion asked them to go with them; they said, “We will; but you must enter in by your own faith.” So I saw in my dream that they went on together till they came in sight of the gate.

Now I saw there was a deep river between them and the gate, and there was no bridge over it: at the sight of this the pilgrims stopt; but the men said, “You must go through or you cannot come to the gate.”

*They enquired, if there were no other way to the gate: To which they answered, “Yes; but there hath not any save two, Enoch and Elijah, trod that path since the foundation of the world.” Then they asked, if the waters were all of a depth? They said, “No: but we cannot
help you in this case; for you will find them either shallower or deeper, according to your faith.”

Then they went in; but Christian began to sink, and cried out to his friend, I sink in the deep waters: the billows go over my head, all the waves go over me.

*Then said Hopeful, “Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom, and it is good.” Oh, my friend, said Christian, The sorrows of death have compassed me round about. I shall not see the land that floweth with milk and honey. And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon him, so that he could not see before him; also he lost in a great measure, his senses, so that he could not remember any of the refreshments or deliverances that he had met with before in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake, still tended to discover the anguish of his spirit, and his fear that he should die in the river, and never enter into the gate. Here also the sins that he had committed, both before and after he was a pilgrim, were brought all together to his remembrance, and terrified him afresh. He was also troubled with the apparition of evil spirits, as if they would have torn him in pieces; so that Hopeful here had much ado to keep his brother’s head above water; yea, sometimes he sunk; and then in awhile rose up again half dead: however, he still endeavoured to comfort him, saying, “I see the gate, and men standing to receive us.” “’Tis you, said Christian, whom they stand to receive; I am as a dead man, out of mind. Surely, if I was right, he would now arise to help me. But for my sins I am brought into this snare, and now God hath forgotten me.” “Not so, said Hopeful; but he trieth thy faith as with fire.”

Then I saw that Christian was in a muse, and immediately Hopeful said, “Be of good cheer; thy faith hath saved thee. Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.”

And with that Christian broke out with a loud voice, “I see him, I see him again!” And he tells me, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee. Then he presently found ground to stand on, and the rest of the water was but shallow, till they came to land. Upon the bank they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them; and as soon as they were come out of the water, they saluted them saying, We are ministring spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation. Thus they went along towards the gate. Now the city stood on a mighty hill, but the pilgrims went up the hill with ease, having left their mortal garments behind them in the river. Though therefore the foundation on which the city was built, was higher than the clouds, they mounted up with speed, through the regions of the air, flying as upon the wings of the wind.

The talk they had mean while with the shining ones was concerning the glory of the place. There, said they, with the innumerable company of angels, are the spirits of just men made perfect. There is the paradise of God, wherein you will see the tree of life, and eat of the fruits thereof. You shall be cloathed with light and immortality as with a garment. All tears will be wiped from your eyes, and you will know no more pain, or sorrow, or death; for the former things are past away. You are now going to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to the patriarchs and prophets, to the righteous men of all ages, whom God in their generations took away from the evil to come; and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness.

They asked, and what are we to do when we are there? It was answered, “You are there to receive the comforts of all your toils that are past, and to have joy for all your sorrow. You are to reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers and tears, and works, and sufferings. And there you will enjoy the perpetual sight of the Holy One; yea, you shall see him as he is: and shall love, and praise, and serve him, and magnify his name all the days of eternity.”

“And when the Son of Man shall come in his glory, you shall come with him in the clouds of heaven; you shall sit with him in the seat of judgment, when he passeth sentence on all the workers of iniquity. Also, when he shall return to the throne of his Majesty on high, you shall go up too, with the sound of the trump, and drink of those rivers of pleasure, which flow at his right-hand for evermore.”

Now, while they were thus drawing near the gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom their conductors said, “These are the men that have loved our Lord while they were in the world, and that have left all for his sake; and we have brought them hither, that they may go and see their Redeemer’s face with joy.” Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb.

They then compassed them round on every side, some having trumpets in their hands, and continually sounding as they went, and praising Him that liveth for ever and ever. In the mean time both their looks and gestures shewed how welcome Christian and Hopeful were.

Now when they were come up to the gate, they saw writ over it in letters of gold, Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city.

Then the shining ones called to them within the gate, saying, “These are come from the city of Destruction, through the love they bear to our King.” They then gave in their certificates, which they had received at the beginning. These were carried to the King, who immediately sent, and commanded to open the gate, that the righteous nation, said he, that keepeth the truth, may enter in.

Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate, and lo! as they entered they were transfigured, and their raiment was glittering, and white as snow. There were also given to them golden harps, wherewith to praise him that sat upon the throne, and the Lamb that liveth for evermore. It was then said to them, Well done, good and faithful servants, enter ye into the joy of your Lord.

Just then Ignorance came to the river-side, and got over with little difficulty: for one Vain-hope, a ferryman happening to be there, carried him over in his boat. So he ascended the hill, and coming up to the gate, immediately began to knock. He was asked by them that were within, “Whence do you come? and what would you have?” He answered, “I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he hath taught in our streets.” They asked again,“Have you any certificate?” But he answered never a word. So they told the King, who commanded, and they bound him hand and foot, and took him up and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw on the side of the hill, and cast him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven. So I awoke.