Sacred Texts  Christianity  Index  Previous  Next 
Buy this Book at

Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, [1678], at

Section V.

     Now when I had got about halfway up, I looked behind me, 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 shew mercy; and with that 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 shew 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. 'Twas 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 staid there.

     Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of that
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 shewed 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 had 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 chose the way 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 other would be said nay,
after a little argumentation, (and somewhat else) but this boldfaced 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; nor any of them neither, before they were
persuaded to be Fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss
of all, for nobody else 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 had 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 first. Yea, he put me so to
it, that my blood came up in may 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. 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, 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? 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, withsome one or other of the
infirmities that attend Religion; but at last I told him, 'Twas 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 tryals 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 some time 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.

     Faith. I think we must cry to Him for help against Shame, that would have
us to be valiant for Truth upon the Earth.

     Chr. You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that Valley?

     Faith. No not I; for I had Sun-shine all the rest of the way through
that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

     Chr. 'Twas well for you; I am sure it fared for otherwise with me; I had
for a long season, as soon almost as I entred 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 entred 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 brake,
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 they went
on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is
Talkative, walking at a distance besides 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 chose much rather to be
speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble to 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 saying is full of conviction;
and I will add, What thing 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's true; but to be profited by such things in our talk should
be that which we design.

     Talk. That's 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 this 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 am I glad to hear these things from you.

     Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause that 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, by which a man can
by no means obtain the Kingdom of Heaven.

     Faith. But by your leave, Heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of God;
no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them.

     Talk. All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing, except it
be given him from Heaven: all is of Grace, not of Works: I could give you a
hundred Scriptures for the confirmation of this.

     Faith. Well then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at
this time found our discourse upon?

     Talk. What you will. I will talk of things Heavenly, or things Earthly;
things Moral, or things Evangelical; things Sacred or things Prophane; things
past or things to come; things foreign or things at home; things more
Essential or things Circumstantial; provided that all be done to our profit.

     Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian (for
he walked all this while by himself) he said to him, (but softly) what a brave
Companion have we got! Surely this man will make a very excellent Pilgrim.

     Chr. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man with whom you
are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his, twenty of them that know
him not.

     Faith. Do you know him then?

     Chr. Know him! Yes, better than he knows himself.

     Faith. Pray what is he?

     Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our Town: I wonder that you
should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our Town is large.

     Faith. Whose Son is he? And whereabout doth he dwell?

     Chr. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt in Prating Row; and is
known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating
Row; and notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.

     Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.

     Chr. That is, to them who have thorough acquaintance with him, for he is
best abroad, near home he is ugly enough: Your saying that he is a pretty man,
brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of the Painter, whose
Pictures shew best at a distance, but very near, more unpleasing.

     Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled.

     Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or
that I should accuse any falsely: I will give you a further discovery of him:
This man is for any company, and for any talk; as he talketh now with you, so
he will talk when he is on the Ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his
crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth; Religion hath no place
in his heart, or house, or conversation; all he hath lieth in his tongue, and
his Religion is to make a noise therewith.

     Faith. Say you so! Then am I in this man greatly deceived.

     Chr. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the Proverb, They say and
do not: but the Kingdom of God is not in word, but in power. He talketh of
Prayer, of Repentance, of Faith, and of the New-birth; but he knows but only
to talk of them. I have been in his Family, and have observed him both at home
and abroad; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty
of Religion as the white of an Egg is of savour. There is there neither
Prayer, nor sign of Repentance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind serves God
better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame of Religion, to all
that know him; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the Town
where he dwells through him. Thus say the common people that know him, A Saint
abroad, and a Devil at home. His poor Family finds it so; he is such a churl,
such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his Servants, that they neither
know how to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him, say
'tis better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealing they shall
have at their hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them,
defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides he brings up his Sons to
follow his steps; and if he findeth in any of them a foolish timorousness,
(for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience) he calls them
fools and blockheads and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to
their commendations before others. For my part I am of opinion that he has by
his wicked life caused many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevent
not, the ruine of many more.

     Faith. Well, my Brother, I am bound to believe you; not only because you
say you know him, but also because like a Christian, you make your reports of
men. For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill will, but because
it is even so as you say.

     Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of
him as at the first you did; yea, had he received this report at their hands
only that are enemies to Religion, I should have thought it had been a
slander: (a lot that often falls from bad men's mouths upon good men's names
and professions;) but all these things, yea and a great many more as bad, of
my own knowledge I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of
him; they can neither call him Brother, nor Friend; the very naming of him
among them, makes them blush, if they know him.

     Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I
shall better observe this distinction.

     Chr. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are the Soul and
the body; for as the Body without the Soul is but a dead Carcass, so Saying,
if it be alone, is but a dead Carcass also. The Soul of Religion is the
practick part: Pure Religion and undefiled, before God and the Father, is
this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep
himself unspotted from the world. This Talkative is not aware of; he thinks
that hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and thus he deceiveth his
own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the Seed; talking is not sufficient
to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life; and let us assure
ourselves, that at the day of Doom men shall be judged according to their
fruits. It will not be said then, Did you believe? but Were you Doers, or
Talkers only? and accordingly shall they be judged. The end of the world is
compared to our Harvest, and you know men at Harvest regard nothing but fruit.
Not that anything can be accepted that is not of Faith; but I speak this to
shew you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day.

     Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he describeth the
beast that is clean. He is such an one that parteth the Hoof and cheweth the
Cud: not that parteth the Hoof only, or that cheweth the Cud only. The Hare
cheweth the Cud, but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the Hoof. And this
truly resembleth Talkative; he cheweth the Cud, he seeketh knowledge, he
cheweth upon the Word; but he divideth not the Hoof, he parteth not with the
way of sinners; but as the Hare, he retaineth the foot of a Dog or Bear, and
therefore is unclean.

     Chr. You have spoken, for ought I know, the true Gospel sense of those
Texts: And I will add another thing; Paul calleth some men, yea and those
great Talkers too, sounding Brass and tinkling Cymbals; that is, as he
expounds them in another place, Things without life, giving sound. Things
without life, that is, without the true Faith and Grace of the Gospel; and
consequently things that shall never be placed in the Kingdom of Heaven among
those that are the Children of life; though their sound, by their talk, be as
if it were the tongue or voice of an Angel.

     Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick
of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him?

     Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will
soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart, and turn

     Faith. What would you have me to do?

     Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the
power of Religion; and ask him plainly (when he has approved of it, for that
he will) whether this thing be set up in his Heart, House, or Conversation.

     Faith, Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come
what chear? How is it now?

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

     Faith. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it
with me to state the question, let it be this; How doth the saving Grace of
God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man?

     Talk. I perceive then that our talk must be about the power of things:
Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And
take my answer in brief thus: First, Where the Grace of God is in the heart,
it causeth there a great out-cry against sin. Secondly -

     Faith. Nay hold, let us consider of one at once: I think you should
rather say, It shews itself by inclining the Soul to abhor its sin.

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

     Faith. Oh! a great deal; a man may cry out against sin, or policy; but he
cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it: I have heard
many cry out against sin in the Pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in
the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph's Mistress cried out with a loud
voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would willingly, notwithstanding
that, have committed uncleanness with him. Some cry out against sin, even as
the Mother cries out against her Child in her lap, when she calleth it slut
and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.

     Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

     Faith. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. But what is the
second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a work of Grace in the

     Talk. Great knowledge of Gospel Mysteries.

     Faith. This sign should have been first; bur first or last, it is also
false; for knowledge, great knowledge may be obtained in the mysteries of the
Gospel, and yet no work of Grace in the Soul. Yea, if a man have all
knowledge, he may yet be nothing; and so consequently be no child of God. When
Christ said, Do you know all these things? and the Disciples had answered,
Yes; he added Blessed are ye if ye do them. He doth not lay the blessing in
the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that
is not attended with doing; He that knoweth his Master's will, and doth it
not. A man may know like an Angel, and yet be no Christian, therefore your
sign of it is not true. Indeed to know is a thing that pleaseth Talkers and
Boasters; but to do is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good
without knowledge; for without that the heart is naught. There is therefore
knowledge and knowledge. Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of
things, and knowledge that is accompanied with the Grace of faith and love,
which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart; the first of
these will serve the Talker; but without the other the true Christian is not
content. Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy Law; yea I shall observe
it with my whole heart.

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

     Faith. Well, if aou please propound another sign how this work of Grace
discovereth itself where it is.

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

     Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?

     Talk. You may use your liberty.

     Faith. A work of Grace in the soul discovereth itself, either to him that
hath it, or to standers-by.

     To him that hath it thus: It gives him conviction of sin, especially of
the defilement of his nature and the sin of unbelief (for the sake of which he
is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand by faith in Jesus
Christ). This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for
sin; he findeth moreover revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the
absolute necessity of closing with him for life, at the which he findeth
hungrings and thirstings after him, to which hungrings, Ec. the promise is
made. Now according to the strength or weakness of his Faith in his Saviour,
so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to
know him more, and also to serve him in this World. But though I say it
discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to
conclude that this is a work of Grace; because his corruptions now, and his
abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter; therefore in him that
hath this work, there is required a very sound Judgment before he can with
steadiness conclude that this is a work of Grace.

     To others it is thus discovered:

     1. By an experimental confession of his Faith in Christ.

     2. By a life answerable to that confession, to wit, a life of holiness,
heart-holiness, family-holiness, (if he hath a Family) and by
conversation-holiness, in the World; which in the general teacheth him,
inwardly to abhor his sin, and himself for that in secret, to suppress it in
his Family, and to promote holiness in the World; not by talk only, as an
Hypocrite or Talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in Faith
and Love, to the power of the Word: And now Sir, as to this brief description
of the work of Grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have ought to
object, object; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second

     Talk. Nay my part is not now to object, but to hear, let me therefore
have your second question.

     Faith. It is this. Do you experience the first part of this description
of it? and doth your life and conversation testify the same? or standeth your
Religion in Word or in Tongue, and not in Deed and Truth? Pray, if you incline
to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen
to; and also nothing but what your conscience can justify you in; for, not he
that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth. Besides, to
say I am thus and thus, when my Conversation and all my Neighbors tell me I
lye, is great wickedness.

     Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush, but recovering himself,
thus he replied, You come now to Experience, to Conscience, and God; and to
appeal to him for justification of what is spoken: This kind of discourse I
did not expect; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because
I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a Catechiser,
and, though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my Judge. But I
pray will you tell me why you ask me such questions?

     Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you
had ought else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of
you that you are a man whose Religion lies in talk, and that your conversation
gives this your Mouth-profession the lye. They say you are a spot among
Christians, and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly Conversation,
that some have already stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more are in
danger of being destroyed thereby; your Religion, and an Ale-house, and
Covetousness, and Uncleanness, and Swearing and Lying, and vain
Company-keeping, Etc... will stand together. The Proverb is true of you which
is said of a Whore, to wit, That she is a shame to all Women; so you are a
shame to all Professors.

     Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly as
you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or melancholy man, not fit
to be discoursed with; and so adieu.

     Chr. Then came up Christian, and said to his Brother, I told you how it
would happen; your words and his lusts could not agree; he had rather leave
your company than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said; let him go, the
loss is no man's but his own, he has saved us the trouble of going from him;
for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have been but a
blot in our company: besides, the Apostle says, From such withdraw thyself.

     Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him, it may happen
that he will think of it again; however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so
am clear of his blood, if he perisheth.

     Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did. There is but
little of this faithful dealing with men now a days, and that makes Religion
to stink so in the nostrils of many, as it doth; for they are these Talkative
Fools whose Religion is only in word, and are debauched and vain in their
Conversation, that (being so much admitted into the fellowship of the godly)
do puzzle the World, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere. I wish that
all men would deal with such as you have done: then should they either be made
more conformable to Religion, or the company of Saints would be too hot for
them. Then did Faithful say,

How Talkative at first lifts up his Plumes!
How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes
To drive all before him! But so soon
As Faithful talks of Heart-work, like the Moon
That's past the full, into the wane he goes.
And so will all, but he that Heart-work knows.

     Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made
that way easy, which would otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them; for
now they went through a Wilderness.

     Now when they were got almost quite out of this Wilderness, Faithful
chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming after them, and he knew
him. Oh! said Faithful to his Brother, Who comes yonder? Then Christian
looked, and said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too,
said Faithful, for 'twas he that set me the way to the Gate. Now was
Evangelist come up unto them, and thus saluted them:

     Evan. Peace be with you, dearly beloved, and peace be to your helpers.

     Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the sight of thy countenance
brings to my remembrance thy antient kindness and unwearied laboring for my
eternal good.

     Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful: Thy company, O
sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to us poor Pilgrims!

     Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you my friends, since
the time of our last parting? What have you met with, and how have you behaved

     Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to
them in the way; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to that

     Evan. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have met with
trials, but that you have been victors; and that you have (notwithstanding
many weaknesses) continued in the way to this very day.

     I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and
yours: I have sowed, and you have reaped; and the day is coming, when both he
that sowed and they that reaped shall rejoice together; that is, if you hold
out: for in due time ye shall reap, if you faint not. The Crown is before you,
and it is an incorruptible one; so run that you may obtain it. Some there be
that set out for this Crown, and after they have gone far for it, another
comes in, and takes it from them; hold fast therefore that you have, let no
man take your Crown. You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the Devil; you
have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin; let the Kingdom be always
before you, and believe steadfastly concerning things that are invisible. Let
nothing that is on this side the other world get within you; and above all,
look well to your own hearts, and to the lusts thereof, for they are deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked; set your faces like a flint; you
have all power in Heaven and Earth on your side.

     Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation, but told him withal,
that they would have him speak farther to them for their help the rest of the
way, and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a Prophet, and could
tell them of things that might happen unto them, and also how they might
resist and overcome them. To which request Faithful also consented. So
Evangelist began as followeth:

     Evan. My Sons, you have heard, in the words of the truth of the Gospel,
that you must through many tribulations enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. And
again, that in every City bonds and afflictions abide in you; and therefore
you cannot expect that you should go long on your Pilgrimage without them, in
some sort or other. You have found something of the truth of these testimonies
upon you already, and more will immediately follow; for now, as you see, you
are almost out of this Wilderness, and therefore you will soon come into a
Town that you will by and by see before you; and in that Town you will be
hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you; and be
ye sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold, with
blood; but be you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a Crown of
life. He that shall die there, although his death will be unnatural, and his
pain perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow; not only
because he will be arrived at the Coelestial City soonest, but because he will
escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his Journey.
But when you are come to the Town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here
related, then remember your friend, and quit yourselves like men, and commit
the keeping of your souls to your God in well-doing, as unto a faithful

     Then I saw in my Dream, that when they were got out of the Wilderness,
they presently saw a Town before them, and the name of that Town is Vanity;
and at the Town there is a Fair kept, called Vanity Fair: it is kept all the
year long; it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the Town where 'tis
kept is lighter than Vanity; and also because all that is there sold, or that
cometh thither, is Vanity. As is the saying of the wise, All that cometh is

Next: Pilgrim's Progress: Part One, Section VI.