(Bunyan, Pilgrim's Progress. part 6)

nearer and nearer; but when they were come even almost at him, 
he cried out with a most vehement voice, "I will walk in the strength 
of the Lord God!" so they gave back, and came no further. 
One thing I would not let slip.  I took notice that now poor Christian 
was so confounded, that he did not know his own voice; 
and thus I perceived it.  Just when he was come over against 
the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, 
and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested 
many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought 
had proceeded from his own mind.  This put Christian more to it 
than anything that he met with before, even to think that he should now 
blaspheme him that he loved so much before; yet, if he could 
have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discretion 
either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these blasphemies came. 
When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition 
some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, 
as going before him, saying, "Though I walk through the valley 
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." 
[Ps. 23:4] 
Then he was glad, and that for these reasons: 
First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God 
were in this valley as well as himself. 
Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that 
dark and dismal state; and why not, thought he, with me? though, 
by reason of the impediment that attends this place, 
I cannot perceive it.  [Job 9:11] 
Thirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to have company 
by and by.  So he went on, and called to him that was before; 
but he knew not what to answer; for that he also thought to be alone. 
And by and by the day broke; then said Christian, 
He hath turned "the shadow of death into the morning".  [Amos 5:8] 
Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, 
but to see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through 
in the dark.  So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on 
the one hand, and the mire that was on the other; also how narrow 
the way was which led betwixt them both; also now he saw the hobgoblins, 
and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all afar off, 
(for after break of day, they came not nigh;) yet they were discovered 
to him, according to that which is written, "He discovereth deep things 
out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death." 
[Job 12:22] 
Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from 
all the dangers of his solitary way; which dangers, 
though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now, 
because the light of the day made them conspicuous to him. 
And about this time the sun was rising, and this was another mercy 
to Christian; for you must note, that though the first part 
of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, 
yet this second part which he was yet to go, was, if possible, 
far more dangerous; for from the place where he now stood, 
even to the end of the valley, the way was all along set so full 
of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, 
deep holes, and shelvings down there, that, had it now been dark, 
as it was when he came the first part of the way, 
had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away; 
but, as I said just now, the sun was rising.  Then said he, 
"His candle shineth upon my head, and by his light I walk 
through darkness."  [Job 29:3] 
In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. 
Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay blood, 
bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims 
that had gone this way formerly; and while I was musing 
what should be the reason, I espied a little before me a cave, 
where two giants, POPE and PAGAN, dwelt in old time; 
by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, and ashes, &c., 
lay there, were cruelly put to death.  But by this place 
Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; 
but I have learnt since, that PAGAN has been dead many a day; 
and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, 
and also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with 
in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, 
that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, 
grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails 
because he cannot come at them. 
So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight 
of the Old Man that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell 
what to think, especially because he spake to him, though he could not 
go after him, saying, "You will never mend till more of you be burned." 
But he held his peace, and set a good face on it, and so went by 
and catched no hurt.  Then sang Christian: 
     O world of wonders! (I can say no less), 
     That I should be preserved in that distress 
     That I have met with here!  O blessed be 
     That hand that from it hath deliver'd me! 
     Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin 
     Did compass me, while I this vale was in: 
     Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie 
     My path about, that worthless, silly I 
     Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down; 
     But since I live, let JESUS wear the crown. 
Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, 
which was cast up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them. 
Up there, therefore, Christian went, and looking forward, he saw 
Faithful before him, upon his journey.  Then said Christian aloud, 
"Ho! ho! So-ho! stay, and I will be your companion!"  At that, 
Faithful looked behind him; to whom Christian cried again, "Stay, stay, 
till I come up to you!"  But Faithful answered, "No, I am upon my life, 
and the avenger of blood is behind me." 
At this, Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, 
he quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him; 
so the last was first.  Then did Christian vain-gloriously smile, 
because he had gotten the start of his brother; but not taking 
good heed to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, 
and could not rise again until Faithful came up to help him. 
Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, 
and had sweet discourse of all things that had happened to them 
in their pilgrimage; and thus Christian began: 
CHR.  My honoured and well-beloved brother, Faithful, I am glad 
that I have overtaken you; and that God has so tempered our spirits, 
that we can walk as companions in this so pleasant a path. 
FAITH.  I had thought, dear friend, to have had your company 
quite from our town; but you did get the start of me, 
wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone. 
CHR.  How long did you stay in the City of Destruction before 
you set out after me on your pilgrimage? 
FAITH.  Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk 
presently after you were gone out that our city would, in short time, 
with fire from heaven, be burned down to the ground. 
CHR.  What! did your neighbours talk so? 
FAITH.  Yes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth. 
CHR.  What! and did no more of them but you come out 
to escape the danger? 
FAITH.  Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, 
yet I do not think they did firmly believe it.  For in the heat 
of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you and of 
your desperate journey, (for so they called this your pilgrimage), 
but I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city 
will be with fire and and brimstone from above; and therefore 
I have made my escape. 
CHR.  Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable? 
FAITH.  Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came 
at the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; 
but he would not be known to have so done; but I am sure 
he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt. 
CHR.  And what said the neighbours to him? 
FAITH.  He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, 
and that among all sorts of people; some do mock and despise him; 
and scarce will any set him on work.  He is now seven times worse 
than if he had never gone out of the city. 
CHR.  But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise 
the way that he forsook? 
FAITH.  Oh, they say, hang him, he is a turncoat! he was not true 
to his profession.  I think God has stirred up even his enemies to 
hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way. 
[Jer. 29:18,19] 
CHR.  Had you no talk with him before you came out? 
FAITH.  I met him once in the streets, but he leered away on 
the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done; 
so I spake not to him. 
CHR.  Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man; 
but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city; 
for it is happened to him according to the true proverb, 
"The dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed, 
to her wallowing in the mire."  [2 Pet. 2:22] 
FAITH.  These are my fears of him too; but who can hinder 
that which will be? 
CHR.  Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, 
and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. 
Tell me now, what you have met with in the way as you came; 
for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ 
for a wonder. 
FAITH.  I escaped the Slough that I perceived you fell into, 
and got up to the gate without that danger; only I met with one 
whose name was Wanton, who had like to have done me a mischief. 
CHR.  It was well you escaped her net; Joseph was hard put to it by her, 
and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him 
his life.  [Gen. 39:11-13]  But what did she do to you? 
FAITH.  You cannot think, but that you know something, 
what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside 
with her, promising me all manner of content. 
CHR.  Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience. 
FAITH.  You know what I mean; all carnal and fleshly content. 
CHR.  Thank God you have escaped her:  "The abhorred of the Lord 
shall fall into her ditch."  [Ps. 22:14] 
FAITH.  Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no. 
CHR.  Why, I trow, you did not consent to her desires? 
FAITH.  No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing 
that I had seen, which said, "Her steps take hold on hell."  [Prov. 5:5] 
So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks. 
[Job 31:1]  Then she railed on me, and I went my way. 
CHR.  Did you meet with no other assault as you came? 
FAITH.  When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, 
I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. 
I told him that I am a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. 
Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; 
wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall 
give thee?  Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. 
He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town 
of Deceit.  [Eph. 4:22]  I asked him then what was his work, 
and what the wages he would give.  He told me that his work 
was many delights; and his wages that I should be his heir at last. 
I further asked him what house he kept, and what other servants he had. 
So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties 
in the world; and that his servants were those of his own begetting. 
Then I asked if he had any children.  He said that he had 
but three daughters:  The Lust of the Flesh, The Lust of the Eyes, 
and The Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all if I would. 
[1 John 2:16]  Then I asked how long time he would have me 
live with him?  And he told me, As long as he lived himself. 
CHR.  Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last? 
FAITH.  Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable 
to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; 
but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there written, 
"Put off the old man with his deeds." 
CHR.  And how then? 
FAITH.  Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, 
and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, 
he would sell me for a slave.  So I bid him forbear to talk, 
for I would not come near the door of his house.  Then he reviled me, 
and told me that he would send such a one after me, that should make 
my way bitter to my soul.  So I turned to go away from him; 
but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold 
of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought 
he had pulled part of me after himself.  This made me cry, 
"O wretched man!"  [Rom. 7:24] So I went on my way up the hill. 
Now when I had got about half-way up, I looked behind, 
and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me 
just about the place where the settle stands. 
CHR.  Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; 
but being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom. 
FAITH.  But, good brother, hear me out.  So soon as the man overtook me, 
he was but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, 
and laid me for dead.  But when I was a little come to myself again, 
I asked him wherefore he served me so.  He said, because of 
my secret inclining to Adam the First; and with that he struck me 
another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward; so I lay 
at his foot as dead as before.  So, when I came to myself again, 
I cried him mercy; but he said, I know not how to show mercy; 
and with that he knocked me down again.  He had doubtless made 
an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear. 
CHR.  Who was that that bid him forbear? 
FAITH.  I did not know him at first, but as he went by, 
I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side; 
then I concluded that he was our Lord.  So I went up the hill. 
CHR.  That man that overtook you was Moses.  He spareth none, 
neither knoweth he how to show mercy to those that transgress his law. 
FAITH.  I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met 
with me.  It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, 
and that told me he would burn my house over my head if I stayed there. 
CHR.  But did you not see the house that stood there on the top 
of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you? 
FAITH.  Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it: 
but for the lions, I think they were asleep, for it was about noon; 
and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the porter, 
and came down the hill. 
CHR.  He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by, but I wish 
you had called at the house, for they would have showed you 
so many rarities, that you would scarce have forgot them 
to the day of your death.  But pray tell me, Did you meet nobody 
in the Valley of Humility? 
FAITH.  Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly 
have persuaded me to go back again with him; his reason was, 
for that the valley was altogether without honour.  He told me, 
moreover, that there to go was the way to disobey all my friends, 
as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, with others, 
who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended, 
if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through this valley. 
CHR.  Well, and how did you answer him? 
FAITH.  I told him, that although all these that he named might claim 
kindred of me, and that rightly, for indeed they were my relations 
according to the flesh; yet since I became a pilgrim, 
they have disowned me, as I also have rejected them; and therefore 
they were to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage. 
I told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite 
misrepresented the thing; for before honour is humility, 
and a haughty spirit before a fall.  Therefore, said I, 
I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted 
by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy 
our affections. 
CHR.  Met you with nothing else in that valley? 
FAITH.  Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the men that I met with 
in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears the wrong name. 
The others would be said nay, after a little argumentation, 
and somewhat else; but this bold-faced Shame would never have done. 
CHR.  Why, what did he say to you? 
FAITH.  What! why, he objected against religion itself; 
he said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man 
to mind religion; he said that a tender conscience was an unmanly thing; 
and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so as to 
tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits 
of the times accustom themselves unto, would make him the ridicule 
of the times.  He objected also, that but few of the mighty, rich, 
or wise, were ever of my opinion [1 Cor. 1:26; 3:18; Phil. 3:7,8]; 
nor any of them neither [John 7:48], before they were persuaded 
to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness, to venture 
the loss of all, for nobody knows what.  He, moreover, 
objected the base and low estate and condition of those 
that were chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived: 
also their ignorance and want of understanding in all natural science. 
Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many 
more things than here I relate; as, that it was a shame to sit 
whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come 
sighing and groaning home:  that it was a shame to ask my neighbour 
forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution 
where I have taken from any.  He said, also, that religion made a man 
grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which he called 
by finer names; and made him own and respect the base, 
because of the same religious fraternity.  And is not this, said he, 
a shame? 
CHR.  And what did you say to him? 
FAITH.  Say! I could not tell what to say at the first. 
Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face; 
even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite off. 
But at last I began to consider, that "that which is highly esteemed 
among men, is had in abomination with God."  [Luke 16:15] 
And I thought again, this Shame tells me what men are; 
but it tells me nothing what God or the Word of God is. 
And I thought, moreover, that at the day of doom, we shall not be doomed 
to death or life according to the hectoring spirits of the world, 
but according to the wisdom and law of the Highest.  Therefore, 
thought I, what God says is best, indeed is best, though all the men 
in the world are against it.  Seeing, then, that God prefers 
his religion; seeing God prefers a tender conscience; 
seeing they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of heaven 
are wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer 
than the greatest man in the world that hates him; Shame, depart, 
thou art an enemy to my salvation!  Shall I entertain thee 
against my sovereign Lord?  How then shall I look him in the face 
at his coming?  Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, 
how can I expect the blessing? [Mark 8:38]  But, indeed, 
this Shame was a bold villain; I could scarce shake him 
out of my company; yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually 
whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities 
that attend religion; but at last I told him it was but in vain 
to attempt further in this business; for those things that he disdained, 
in those did I see most glory; and so at last I got past 
this importunate one.  And when I had shaken him off, 
then I began to sing-- 
     The trials that those men do meet withal, 
     That are obedient to the heavenly call, 
     Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, 
     And come, and come, and come again afresh; 
     That now, or sometime else, we by them may 
     Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
     Oh, let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims, then 
     Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men. 
CHR.  I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand this villain 
so bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name; 
for he is so bold as to follow us in the streets, and to attempt 
to put us to shame before all men:  that is, to make us ashamed 
of that which is good; but if he was not himself audacious, 
he would never attempt to do as he does.  But let us still resist him; 
for notwithstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth the fool 
and none else.  "The wise shall inherit glory, said Solomon, 
but shame shall be the promotion of fools."  [Prov. 3:35] 
FAITH.  I think we must cry to Him for help against Shame, 
who would have us to be valiant for the truth upon the earth. 
CHR.  You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that valley? 
FAITH.  No, not I; for I had sunshine all the rest of the way 
through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
CHR.  It was well for you.  I am sure it fared far otherwise with me; 
I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, 
a dreadful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon; yea, I thought verily 
he would have killed me, especially when he got me down 
and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces; 
for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he told me 
he was sure of me:  but I cried to God, and he heard me, 
and delivered me out of all my troubles.  Then I entered into 
the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost 
half the way through it.  I thought I should have been killed there, 
over and over; but at last day broke, and the sun rose, 
and I went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet. 
Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, 
as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is Talkative, 
walking at a distance beside them; for in this place 
there was room enough for them all to walk.  He was a tall man, 
and something more comely at a distance than at hand. 
To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner: 
FAITH.  Friend, whither away?  Are you going to the heavenly country? 
TALK.  I am going to the same place. 
FAITH.  That is well; then I hope we may have your good company. 
TALK.  With a very good will will I be your companion. 
FAITH.  Come on, then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time 
in discoursing of things that are profitable. 
TALK.  To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, 
with you or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with 
those that incline to so good a work; for, to speak the truth, 
there are but few that care thus to spend their time, 
(as they are in their travels), but choose much rather to be 
speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble for me. 
FAITH.  That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what things 
so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth 
as are the things of the God of heaven? 
TALK.  I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are full 
of conviction; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, 
and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? 
What things so pleasant (that is, if a man hath any delight in things 
that are wonderful)?  For instance, if a man doth delight to talk 
of the history or the mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk 
of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things recorded 
so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture? 
FAITH.  That is true; but to be profited by such things in our talk 
should be that which we design. 
TALK.  That is it that I said; for to talk of such things 
is most profitable; for by so doing, a man may get knowledge 
of many things; as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit 
of things above.  Thus, in general, but more particularly by this, 
a man may learn the necessity of the new birth, the insufficiency 
of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness, &c.  Besides, 
by this a man may learn, by talk, what it is to repent, to believe, 
to pray, to suffer, or the like; by this also a man may learn 
what are the great promises and consolations of the gospel, 
to his own comfort.  Further, by this a man may learn 
to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also 
to instruct the ignorant. 
FAITH.  All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you. 
TALK.  Alas! the want of this is the cause why so few understand 
the need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their soul, 
in order to eternal life; but ignorantly live in the works of the law, 

(continued in part 7...)

file: /pub/resources/text/ipb-e/epl-03:pilgr-06.txt