after a while, they perceived, afar off, one coming softly and alone
all along the highway to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow,
Yonder is a man with his back towards Zion, and he is coming to meet
Hope. I see him; let us take heed to ourselves
now, lest he should prove a flatterer also. So he drew nearer and nearer,
and at last came up unto them. His name was Atheist, and he asked them
whither they were going.
Chr. We are going to Mount Zion.
Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter.
Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter?
Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons
you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey, and you are like to
have nothing but your travel for your pains.
Chr. Why, man, do you think we shall not
Atheist. Received! There is no such place
as you dream of in all this world.
Chr. But there is in the world to come.
Atheist. When I was at home in mine own
country, I heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to
see, and have been seeking this city this twenty years; but find no
more of it than I did the first day I set out.
Chr. We have both heard and believe that
there is such a place to be found.
Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed,
I had not come thus far to seek; but finding none, (and yet I should,
had there been such a place to be found, for I have gone to seek it
further than you,) I am going back again, and will seek to refresh myself
with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that which, I now
see, is not.
Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful his
fellow, Is it true which this man hath said?
Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers;
remember what it hath cost us once already for our hearkening to such
kind of fellows. What! no Mount Zion? Did we not see, from the Delectable
Mountains the gate of the city? Also, are we not now to walk by faith?
Let us go on, said Hopeful, lest the man with the whip overtake us again.
You should have taught me that lesson, which I will round you in the
ears withal: Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to
err from the words of knowledge. I say, my brother, cease to hear him,
and let us believe to the saving of the soul.
Chr. My brother, I did not put the question
to thee for that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to
prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart.
As for this man, I know that he is blinded by the god of this world.
Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth, and
no lie is of the truth.
Hope. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory
of God. So they turned away from the man; and he laughing at them went
I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came into a certain
country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a
stranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull and heavy of
sleep; wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy
that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes, let us lie down here and take
Chr. By no means, said the other, lest
sleeping, we never awake more.
Hope. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to
the labouring man; we may be refreshed if we take a nap.
Chr. Do you not remember that one of the
Shepherds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground? He meant by that that
we should beware of sleeping; Therefore let us not sleep, as do others,
but let us watch and be sober.
Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault,
and had I been here alone I had by sleeping run the danger of death.
I see it is true that the wise man saith, Two are better than one. Hitherto
hath thy company been my mercy, and thou shalt have a good reward for
Chr. Now then, said Christian, to prevent
drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse.
Hope. With all my heart, said the other.
Chr. Where shall we begin?
Hope. Where God began with us. But do you
begin, if you please.
Chr. I will sing you first this song: --
When saints do sleepy grow, let them
And hear how these two pilgrims talk
Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise,
Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb'ring
Saints' fellowship, if it be managed
Keeps them awake, and that in spite of
Chr. Then Christian began and said, I will
ask you a question. How came you to think at first of so doing as you
Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first
to look after the good of my soul?
Chr. Yes, that is my meaning.
Hope. I continued a great while in the
delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair; things
which, I believe now, would have, had I continued in them, still drowned
me in perdition and destruction.
Chr. What things are they?
Hope. All the treasures and riches of the
world. Also, I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, swearing,
lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, that tended to destroy
the soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering of things
that are divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful
that was put to death for his faith and good living in Vanity Fair,
that the end of these things is death. And that for these things' sake
cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.
Chr. And did you presently fall under the
power of this conviction?
Hope. No, I was not willing presently to
know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the commission
of it; but endeavoured, when my mind at first began to be shaken with
the Word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof.
Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying
of it thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you?
Hope. The causes were -- 1. I was ignorant
that this was the work of God upon me. I never thought that, by awakenings
for sin, God at first begins the conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was
yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was loath to leave it. 3. I could
not tell how to part with mine old companions, their presence and actions
were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon
me were such troublesome and such heart-affrighting hours that I could
not bear, no not so much as the remembrance of them, upon my heart.
Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got
rid of your trouble.
Hope. Yes, verily, but it would come into
my mind again, and then I should be as bad, nay, worse, than I was before.
Chr. Why, what was it that brought your
sins to mind again?
Hope. Many things; as,
1. If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or,
2. If I have heard any read in the Bible; or,
3. If mine head did begin to ache; or,
4. If I were told that some of my neighbours were sick; or,
5. If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or,
6. If I thought of dying myself; or,
7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others;
8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come
Chr. And could you at any time, with ease,
get off the guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon you?
Hope. No, not I, for then they got faster
hold of my conscience; and then, if I did but think of going back to
sin, (though my mind was turned against it,) it would be double torment
Chr. And how did you do then?
Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend
my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be damned.
Chr. And did you endeavour to mend?
Hope. Yes; and fled from not only my sins,
but sinful company too; and betook me to religious duties, as prayer,
reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbours, &c. These
things did I, with many others, too much here to relate.
Chr. And did you think yourself well then?
Hope. Yes, for a while; but at the last,
my trouble came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all
Chr. How came that about, since you were
Hope. There were several things brought
it upon me, especially such sayings as these: All our righteousnesses
are as filthy rags. By the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.
When ye shall have done all those things, say, We are unprofitable;
with many more such like. From whence I began to reason with myself
thus: If ALL my righteousnesses are filthy rags; if, by the deeds of
the law, NO man can be justified; and if, when we have done ALL, we
are yet unprofitable, then it is but a folly to think of heaven by the
law. I further thought thus: If a man runs a hundred pounds into the
shopkeeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch;
yet, if this old debt stands still in the book uncrossed, for that the
shopkeeper may sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the
Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to
yourself? I thought thus with myself.
Hope. Why; I have, by my sins, run a great
way into God's book, and that my now reforming will not pay off that
score; therefore I should think still, under all my present amendments,
But how shall I be freed from that damnation that I have brought myself
in danger of by my former transgressions?
Chr. A very good application: but, pray,
Hope. Another thing that hath troubled
me, even since my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into
the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with
the best of that I do; so that now I am forced to conclude, that notwithstanding
my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough
in one duty to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless.
Chr. And what did you do then?
Hope. Do! I could not tell what to do,
until I brake my mind to Faithful, for he and I were well acquainted.
And he told me, that unless I could obtain the righteousness of a man
that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the righteousness of
the world could save me.
Chr. And did you think he spake true?
Hope. Had he told me so when I was pleased
and satisfied with mine own amendment, I had called him fool for his
pains; but now, since I see mine own infirmity, and the sin that cleaves
to my best performance, I have been forced to be of his opinion.
Chr. But did you think, when at first he
suggested it to you, that there was such a man to be found, of whom
it might justly be said that he never committed sin?
Hope. I must confess the words at first
sounded strangely, but after a little more talk and company with him,
I had full conviction about it.
Chr. And did you ask him what man this
was, and how you must be justified by him?
Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord
Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, said
he, you must be justified by him, even by trusting to what he hath done
by himself, in the days of his flesh, and suffered when he did hang
on the tree. I asked him further, how that man's righteousness could
be of that efficacy to justify another before God? And 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 his doings, and the worthiness of them,
should be imputed, if I believed on him.
Chr. And what did you do then?
Hope. I made my objections against my believing,
for that I thought he was not willing to save me.
Chr. And what said Faithful to you then?
Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then
I said it was presumption; but he said, No, for I was invited to come.
Then he gave me a book of Jesus, his inditing, to encourage me the more
freely to come; and he said, concerning that book, that every jot and
tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth. Then I asked him,
What I must do when I came; and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees,
with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. Then I asked
him further, how I must make my supplication to him? And he said, Go,
and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where he sits all the year
long, to give pardon and forgiveness to them that come. I told him that
I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect:
God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus
Christ; for I see, that if his righteousness had not been, or I have
not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have
heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus
Christ should be the Saviour of the world; and moreover, that thou art
willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am, (and I am a sinner
indeed;) Lord, take therefore this opportunity and magnify thy grace
in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
Chr. And did you do as you were bidden?
Hope. Yes; over, and over, and over.
Chr. And did the Father reveal his Son
Hope. Not at the first, nor second, nor
third, nor fourth, nor fifth; no, nor at the sixth time neither.
Chr. What did you do then?
Hope. What! why, I could not tell what
Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off
Hope. Yes; an hundred times twice told.
Chr. And what was the reason you did not?
Hope. I believed that that was true which
had been told me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this 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 at the throne of grace. And
withal, this came into my mind, Though it tarry, wait for it; because
it will surely come, it will not tarry. So I continued praying until
the Father shewed me his Son.
Chr. And how was he revealed unto you?
Hope. I did not see him with my bodily
eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding; and thus it was: One day
I was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time in my life, and
this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness
of my sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the
everlasting damnation of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the
Lord Jesus Christ look down from heaven upon me, and saying, Believe
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.
But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. And he answered,
My grace is sufficient for thee. Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing?
And then I saw from that saying, He that cometh to me shall never hunger,
and he that believeth on me shall never thirst, that believing and coming
was all one; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and
affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ.
Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further. But, Lord, may
such a great sinner as I am be indeed accepted of thee, and be saved
by thee? And I heard him say, And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out. Then I said, But how, Lord, must I consider of thee in
my coming to thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon thee? Then
he said, Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. He is the
end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. He died
for our sins, and rose again for our justification. He loved us, and
washed us from our sins in his own blood. He is mediator betwixt God
and us. He ever liveth to make intercession for us. From all which I
gathered, that I must look for righteousness in his person, and for
satisfaction for my sins by his blood; that what he did in obedience
to his Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not
for himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and
be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears,
and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and
ways of Jesus Christ.
was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed; but tell me particularly
what effect this had upon your spirit.
Hope. It made me see that all the world,
notwithstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation.
It made me see that God the Father, though he be just, can justly justify
the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my
former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance;
for there never came thought into my heart before now that shewed me
so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long
to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus;
yea, I thought that had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body,
I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus.
I saw then in my dream that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom
they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how
far yonder youngster loitereth behind.
Chr. Ay, ay, I see him; he careth not for
Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt
him had he kept pace with us hitherto.
Chr. That is true; but I warrant you he
Hope. That, I think, he doth; but, however,
let us tarry for him. So they did.
Then Christian said to him, Come away, man, why do you stay so behind?
Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone,
even more a great deal than in company, unless I like it the better.
Then said Christian to Hopeful, (but softly,) Did I not tell you he
cared not for our company? But, however, said he, come up, and let us
talk away the time in this solitary place. Then directing his speech
to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you? How stands it between God and
your soul now?
Ignor. I hope well; for I am always full
of good motions, that come into my mind, to comfort me as I walk.
Chr. What good motions? pray, tell us.
Ignor. Why, I think of God and heaven.
Chr. So do the devils and damned souls.
Ignor. But I think of them and desire them.
Chr. So do many that are never like to
come there. The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing.
Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all
Chr. That I doubt; for leaving all is a
hard matter: yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or
by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven.
Ignor. My heart tells me so.
Chr. The wise man says, He that trusts
his own heart is a fool.
Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart,
but mine is a good one.
Chr. But how dost thou prove that?
Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven.
Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness;
for a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing
for which he yet has no ground to hope.
Ignor. But my heart and life agree together,
and therefore my hope is well grounded.
Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life
Ignor. My heart tells me so.
Chr. Ask my fellow if I be a thief! Thy
heart tells thee so! Except the Word of God beareth witness in this
matter, other testimony is of no value.
Ignor. But is it not a good heart that
hath good thoughts? and is not that a good life that is according to
Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that hath
good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's commandments;
but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and another thing only to
Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts,
and a life according to God's commandments?
Chr. There are good thoughts of divers
kinds; some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other
Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting
Chr. Such as agree with the Word of God.
Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves
agree with the Word of God?
Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon
ourselves which the Word passes. To explain myself -- the Word of God
saith of persons in a natural condition, There is none righteous, there
is none that doeth good. It saith also, that every imagination of the
heart of man is only evil, and that continually. And again, The imagination
of man's heart is evil from his youth. Now then, when we think thus
of ourselves, having sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones,
because according to the Word of God.
Ignor. I will never believe that my heart
is thus bad.
Chr. Therefore thou never hadst one good
thought concerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on. As the Word
passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment upon our
ways; and when OUR thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judgment
which the Word giveth of both, then are both good, because agreeing
Ignor. Make out your meaning.
Chr. Why, the Word of God saith that man's
ways are crooked ways; not good, but perverse. It saith they are naturally
out of the good way, that they have not known it. Now, when a man thus
thinketh of his ways, -- I say, when he doth sensibly, and with heart-humiliation,
thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own ways, because his
thoughts now agree with the judgment of the Word of God.
Ignor. What are good thoughts concerning
Chr. Even as I have said concerning ourselves,
when our thoughts of God do agree with what the Word saith of him; and
that is, when we think of his being and attributes as the Word hath
taught, of which I cannot now discourse at large; but to speak of him
with reference to us: Then we have right thoughts of God, when we think
that he knows us better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us
when and where we can see none in ourselves; when we think he knows
our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always
open unto his eyes; also, when we think that all our righteousness stinks
in his nostrils, and that, therefore, he cannot abide to see us stand
before him in any confidence, even in all our best performances.
Ignor. Do you think that I am such a fool
as to think God can see no further than I? or, that I would come to
God in the best of my performances?
Chr. Why, how dost thou think in this matter?
Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must
believe in Christ for justification.
Chr. How! think thou must believe in Christ,
when thou seest not thy need of him! Thou neither seest thy original
nor actual infirmities; but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of
what thou dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see
a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before
God. How, then, dost thou say, I believe in Christ?
Ignor. I believe well enough for all that.
Chr. How dost thou believe?
Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners,
and that I shall be justified before God from the curse, through his
gracious acceptance of my obedience to his law. Or thus, Christ makes
my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father, by virtue of
his merits; and so shall I be justified.
Chr. Let me give an answer to this confession
of thy faith: --
1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is nowhere
described in the Word.
2. Thou believest with a false faith; because it taketh justification
from the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.
This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions;
and of thy person for thy actions' sake, which is false.
4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee
under wrath, in the day of God Almighty; for true justifying faith puts
the soul, as sensible of its condition by the law, upon flying for refuge
unto Christ's righteousness, which righteousness of his is not an act
of grace, by which he maketh for justification, thy obedience accepted
with God; but his personal obedience to the law, in doing and suffering
for us what that required at our hands; this righteousness, I say, true
faith accepteth; under the skirt of which, the soul being shrouded,
and by it presented as spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquit
Ignor. What! would you have us trust to
what Christ, in his own person, has done without us? This conceit would
loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list; for
what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal
righteousness from all, when we believe it?
Chr. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy
name is, so art thou; even this thy answer demonstrateth what I say.
Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant
how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath
of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith
in this righteousness of Christ, which is, to bow and win over the heart
to God in Christ, to love his name, his word, ways, and people, and
not as thou ignorantly imaginest.
Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed
to him from heaven.
Ignor. What! you are a man for revelations!
I believe that what both you, and all the rest of you, say about that
matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains.
Hope. Why, man! Christ is so hid in God
from the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he cannot by any man
be savingly known, unless God the Father reveals him to them.
Ignor. That is your faith, but not mine;
yet mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, though I have not in my
head so many whimsies as you.
Chr. Give me leave to put in a word. You
ought not so slightly to speak of this matter; for this I will boldly
affirm, even as my good companion hath done, that no man can know Jesus
Christ but by the revelation of the Father; yea, and faith too, by which
the soul layeth hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought by
the exceeding greatness of his mighty power; the working of which faith,
I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. Be awakened, then,
see thine own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus; and by his righteousness,
which is the righteousness of God, for he himself is God, thou shalt
be delivered from condemnation.
Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace
with you. Do you go on before; I must stay a while behind.
Then they said --
Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish
To slight good counsel, ten times given
And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt
Ere long, the evil of thy doing so.
Remember, man, in time, stoop, do not
Good counsel taken well, saves: therefore
But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou
The loser, (Ignorance,) I'll warrant
Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow: --
Chr. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I
must walk by ourselves again.
So I saw in my dream that they went on apace before, and Ignorance he
came hobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, It pities
me much for this poor man, it will certainly go ill with him at last.
Hope. Alas! there are abundance in our
town in his condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that
of pilgrims too; and if there be so many in our parts, how many, think
you, must there be in the place where he was born?
Chr. Indeed the Word saith, He hath blinded
their eyes lest they should see, &c. But now we are by ourselves,
what do you think of such men? Have they at no time, think you, convictions
of sin, and so consequently fears that their state is dangerous?
Hope. Nay, do you answer that question
yourself, for you are the elder man.
Chr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think)
they may; but they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such
convictions tend to their good; and therefore they do desperately seek
to stifle them, and presumptuously continue to flatter themselves in
the way of their own hearts.
Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear
tends much to men's good, and to make them right, at their beginning
to go on pilgrimage.
Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it be
right; for so says the Word, The fear of the Lord is the beginning of
Hope. How will you describe right fear?
Chr. True or right fear is discovered by
three things: --
1. By its rise; it is caused by saving convictions for sin.
2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salvation.
3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a great reverence of God,
his Word, and ways, keeping it tender, and making it afraid to turn
from them, to the right hand or to the left, to anything that may dishonour
God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak
Hope. Well said; I believe you have said
the truth. Are we now almost got past the Enchanted Ground?
Chr. Why, art thou weary of this discourse?
Hope. No, verily, but that I would know
where we are.
Chr. We have not now above two miles further
to go thereon. But let us return to our matter. Now the ignorant know
not that such convictions as tend to put them in fear are for their
good, and therefore they seek to stifle them.
Hope. How do they seek to stifle them?
1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil, (though indeed
they are wrought of God;) and, thinking so, they resist them as things
that directly tend to their overthrow.
2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith,
when, alas, for them, poor men that they are, they have none at all!
and therefore they harden their. hearts against them.
3. They presume they ought not to fear; and, therefore, in despite of
them, wax presumptuously confident.
4. They see that those fears tend to take away from them their pitiful
old self-holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their might.
Hope. I know something of this myself;
for, before I knew myself, it was so with me.
Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time,
our neighbour Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable
Hope. With all my heart, but you shall still begin.
Chr. Well then, did you not know, about
ten years ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was a forward man in
Hope. Know him! yes, he dwelt in Graceless,
a town about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next door to one
Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof
with him. Well, that man was much awakened once; I believe that then
he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages that were due thereto.
Hope. I am of your mind, for, my house
not being above three miles from him, he would ofttimes come to me,
and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not altogether
without hope of him; but one may see, it is not every one that cries,
Chr. He told me once that he was resolved
to go on pilgrimage, as we do now; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted
with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me.
Hope. Now, since we are talking about him,
let us a little inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of
him and such others.
Chr. It may be very profitable, but do
Hope. Well, then, there are in my judgment
four reasons for it: --
1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds
are not changed; therefore, when the power of guilt weareth away, that
which provoked them to be religious ceaseth, wherefore they naturally
turn to their own course again, even as we see the dog that is sick
of what he has eaten, so long as his sickness prevails he vomits and
casts up all; not that he doth this of a free mind (if we may say a
dog has a mind), but because it troubleth his stomach; but now, when
his sickness is over, and so his stomach eased, his desire being not
at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all,
and so it is true which is written, The dog is turned to his own vomit
again. Thus I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the sense
and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of hell and the fears
of damnation chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and salvation
cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their guilt and fear
is gone, their desires for heaven and happiness die, and they return
to their course again.
2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do overmaster them;
I speak now of the fears that they have of men, for the fear of man
bringeth a snare. So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven, so
long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet when that terror
is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts; namely,
that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what)
the hazard of losing all, or, at least, of bringing themselves into
unavoidable and unnecessary troubles, and so they fall in with the world
3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in their way;
they are proud and haughty; and religion in their eye is low and contemptible,
therefore, when they have lost their sense of hell and wrath to come,
they return again to their former course.
4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them. They like not
to see their misery before they come into it; though perhaps the sight
of it first, if they loved that sight, might make them fly whither the
righteous fly and are safe. But because they do, as I hinted before,
even shun the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they
are rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they
harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways as will harden them
more and more.
Chr. You are pretty near the business,
for the bottom of all is for want of a change in their mind and will.
And therefore they are but like the felon that standeth before the judge,
he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily, but the bottom
of all is the fear of the halter; not that he hath any detestation of
the offence, as is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty,
and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still, whereas, if his mind was
changed, he would be otherwise.
Hope. Now I have shewed you the reasons
of their going back, do you shew me the manner thereof.
Chr. So I will willingly.
1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from the remembrance
of God, death, and judgment to come.
2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing
their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the like.
3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians.
4. After that they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, reading, godly
conference, and the like.
5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of
the godly; and that devilishly, that they may have a seeming colour
to throw religion (for the sake of some infirmity they have espied in
them) behind their backs.
6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal,
loose, and wanton men.
7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret; and
glad are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest,
that they may the more boldly do it through their example.
8. After this they begin to play with little sins openly.
9. And then, being hardened, they shew themselves as they are. Thus,
being launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace
prevent it, they everlastingly perish in their own deceivings.
Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the Pilgrims were got over
the Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose
air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it,
they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually
the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear on the earth,
and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun
shineth night and day. wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the Shadow
of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair, neither could
they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they were
within sight of the city they were going to, also here met them some
of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones commonly
walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also,
the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was renewed; yea,
here, As the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice
over them. Here they had no want of corn and wine; for in this place
they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage.
Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, Say
ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh! Behold, his
reward is with him! Here all the inhabitants of the country called them,
The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out, &c.
Now as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts
more remote from the kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near
to the city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded
of pearls and precious stones, also the street thereof was paved with
gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the reflection
of the sunbeams upon it,
Christian with desire fell sick; Hopeful also had a fit or two of the
same disease. Wherefore, here they lay by it a while, crying out, because
of their pangs, If ye find my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love.
But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness,
they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were
orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the highway.
Now, as they came up to these places, behold the gardener stood in the
way, to whom the Pilgrims said, Whose goodly vineyards and gardens are
these? He answered, They are the King's, and are planted here for his
own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had
them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties.
He also shewed them there the King's walks, and the arbours where he
delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept.
Now I beheld in my dream that they talked more in their sleep at this
time than ever they did in all their journey; and being in a muse thereabout,
the gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at the matter? It
is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go down
so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.
So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to
the city; but, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for
the city was pure gold) was so extremely glorious that they could not,
as yet, with open face behold it, but through an instrument made for
that purpose. So I saw, that as I went on, there met them two men, in
raiment that shone like gold; also their faces shone as the light.
These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came; and they told them. They
also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers,
what comforts and pleasures they had met in the way; and they told them.
Then said the men that met them, You have but two difficulties more
to meet with, and then you are in the city.
Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them;
so they told them they would. But, said they, you must obtain it by
your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together, until
they came in sight of the gate. Now, I further saw, that betwixt them
and the gate was a river, but there was no bridge to go over: the river
was very deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims
were much stunned; but the men that went in with them said, You must
go through, or you cannot come at the gate.
The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the
gate; to which they answered, Yes; but there hath not any, save two,
to wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path since the
foundation of the world, nor shall, until the last trumpet shall sound.
The Pilgrims then, especially Christian, began to despond in their minds,
and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them by which
they might escape the river. Then they asked the men if the waters were
all of a depth. They said: No; yet they could not help them in that
case; for, said they, you shall find it deeper or shallower as you believe
in the King of the place.
They then addressed themselves to the water and, entering, Christian
began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I
sink in deep waters; the billows go over my head, all his waves go over
Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom,
and it is good. Then said Christian, Ah! my friend, the sorrows of death
hath compassed me about; I shall not see the land that flows with milk
and honey; and with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian,
so that he could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost
his senses, so that he could neither remember nor orderly talk of any
of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage.
But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had
horror of mind, and heart fears that he should die in that river, and
never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood
by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that
he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. It
was also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins
and evil spirits, for ever and anon he would intimate so much by words.
Hopeful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above
water; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere
a while, he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour
to comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by
to receive us: but Christian would answer, It is you, it is you they
wait for; you have been Hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have you,
said he to Christian. Ah! brother! said he, surely if I was right he
would now arise to help me; but for my sins he hath brought me into
the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have
quite forgot the text, where it is said of the wicked, There are no
bands in their death, but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble
as other men, neither are they plagued like other men. These troubles
and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that
God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, whether you will call
to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and
live upon him in your distresses.
Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was as in a muse a while.
To whom also Hopeful added this word, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ
maketh thee whole; and with that Christian brake out with a loud voice,
Oh, I see him again! and he tells me, When thou passest through the
waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not
overflow thee. Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after
that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore
presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest
of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over. Now, upon the bank
of the river, on the other side, they saw the two shining men again,
who there waited for them; wherefore, being come out of the river, they
saluted them, saying, We are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister
for those that shall be heirs of salvation. Thus they went along towards
Now, now look how the holy pilgrims ride,
Clouds are their chariots, angels are
Who would not here for him all hazards
That thus provides for his when this
Now you must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill, but the Pilgrims
went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead
them up by the arms; also, they had left their mortal garments behind
them in the river, for though they went in with them, they came out
without them. They, therefore, went up here with much agility and speed,
though the foundation upon which the city was framed was higher than
the clouds. They therefore went up through the regions of the air, sweetly
talking as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over
the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.
The talk they had with the Shining Ones was about the glory of the place;
who told them that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible. There,
said they, is the Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable
company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect. You are
going now, said they, to the paradise of God, wherein you shall see
the tree of life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when
you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk
and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity.
There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in
the lower region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction,
and death, for the former things are passed away. You are now going
to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets -- men that God
hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon
their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. The men then asked,
What must we do in the holy place? To whom it was answered, You must
there receive the comforts of all your toil, and have joy for all your
sorrow; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your
prayers, and tears, and sufferings for the King by the way. In that
place you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and
vision of the Holy One, for there you shall see him as he is. There
also you shall serve him continually with praise, with shouting, and
thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the world, though with much
difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes
shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant
voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again that
are gone thither before you; and there you shall with joy receive, even
every one that follows into the holy place after you. There also shall
you be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit
to ride out with the King of Glory. When he shall come with sound of
trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you shall come
with him; and when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment; you shall
sit by him; yea, and when he shall pass sentence upon all the workers
of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice
in that judgment, because they were his and your enemies. Also, when
he shall again return to the city, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet,
and be ever with him.
Now while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold a company
of the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom it was said, by
the other two Shining Ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord
when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name;
and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far
on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer
in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying,
Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.
There came out also at this time to meet them, several of the King's
trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, who, with melodious
noises, and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These
trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow with ten thousand welcomes
from the world; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet.
This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before,
some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left, (as it were
to guard them through the upper regions,) continually sounding as they
went, with melodious noise, in notes on high: so that the very sight
was, to them that could behold it, as if heaven itself was come down
to meet them. Thus, therefore, they walked on together; and as they
walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would,
by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian
and his brother, how welcome they were into their company, and with
what gladness they came to meet them; and now were these two men, as
it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with
the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here
also they had the city itself in view, and they thought they heard all
the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But above all, the
warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there,
with such company, and that for ever and ever. Oh, by what tongue or
pen can their glorious joy be expressed! And thus they came up to the
Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it in
letters of gold, Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they
may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates
into the city.
Then I saw in my dream that the Shining Men bid them call at the gate;
the which, when they did, some looked from above over the gate, to wit,
Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c., to whom it was said, These pilgrims
are come from the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to
the King of this place; and then the Pilgrims gave in unto them each
man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning; those,
therefore, were carried in to the King, who, when he had read them,
said, Where are the men? To whom it was answered, They are standing
without the gate. The King then commanded to open the gate, That the
righteous nation, said he, which keepeth the truth, may enter in.
Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate: and lo,
as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on
that shone like gold. There was also that met them with harps and crowns,
and gave them to them -- the harps to praise withal, and the crowns
in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the
city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, Enter ye into
the joy of your Lord. I also heard the men themselves, that they sang
with a loud voice, saying, Blessing and honour, and glory, and power,
be unto him that sitteth Upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever
just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them,
and, behold, the City shone like the sun; the streets also were paved
with gold, and in them walked many men, with crowns on their heads,
palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal.
There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another
without intermission, saying, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord. And after
that they shut up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself
Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look
back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side; but he soon got over,
and that without half that difficulty which the other two men met with.
For it happened that there was then in that place, one Vain-hope, a
ferryman, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the other I
saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came alone;
neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was
come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and
then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly
administered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the
top of the gate, Whence came you, and what would you have? He answered,
I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught
in our streets. Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might
go in and shew it to the King; so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and
found none. Then said they, Have you none? But the man answered never
a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him,
but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful
to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot,
and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the
air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there.
Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven,
as well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold it was
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