Part Two, Section IV.

Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, [1678], at sacred-texts.com

Section IV.

     In the morning they arose with the Sun, and prepared themselves for their
departure; but the Interpreter would have them tarry awhile, for said he, you
must orderly go from hence. Then said he to the Damsel that at first opened
unto them, Take them and have them into the Garden to the Bath, and there wash
them, and make them clean from the soil which they gathered by travelling.
Then Innocent the Damsel took them, and had them into the Garden, and brought
them to the Bath; so she told them that there they must wash and be clean, for
so her Master would have the Women to do that called at his house, as they
were going on Pilgrimage. They then went in and washed, yea they and the Boys
and all; and they came out of that Bath, not only sweet and clean, but also
much enlivened and strengthened in their joints. So when they came in, they
looked fairer a deal than when they went out to the washing.

     When they were returned out of the Garden from the Bath, the Interpreter
took them and looked upon them and said unto them, Fair as the Moon. Then he
called for the Seal wherewith they used to be sealed that were washed in his
Bath. So the Seal was brought, and he set his Mark upon them, that they might
be known in the places whither they were yet to go. Now the Seal was the
contents and sum of the Passover which the Children of Israel did eat when
they came out from the land of Egypt, and the Mark was set between their eyes.
This Seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament to their
faces. It also added to their gravity, and made their countenances more like
them of Angels.

     Then said the Interpreter again to the Damsel that waited upon these
Women, Go into the Vestry and fetch out Garments for these people; so she went
and fetched out white Raiment, and laid it down before him; so he commanded
dthem to put it on. It was fine linen, white and clean. When the Women were
thus adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other, for that they could
not see that glory each one on herself which they could see in each other. Now
therefore they began to esteem each other better than themselves. For you are
fairer than I am, said one; and you are more comely than I am, said another.
The Children also stood amazed to see into what fashion they were brought.

     The interpreter then called for a Man-servant of his, one Great -
heart, and bid him take sword and helmet and shield; and take these my
Daughters, said he, and conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which
place they will rest next. So he took his Weapons and went before them, and
the Interpreter said, God speed. Those also that belonged to the Family sent
them away with many a good wish. So they went on their way and sung,

This place has been our second stage,
Here we have heard and seen
Those good things that from age to age,
To others hid have been.

The Dunghill-raker, the Spider, Hen,
The Chicken too to me
Hath taught a lesson; let me then
Conformed to it be.

The Butcher, Garden, and the Field,
The Robin and his bait,
Also the Rotten Tree doth yield
Me argument of weight,

To move me for to watch and pray,
To strive to be sincere,
To take my Cross up day by day,
And serve the Lord with fear.

     Now I saw in my Dream that they went on, and Greatheart went before them;
so they went and came to the place where Christian's Burden fell off his back
and tumbled into a Sepulchre. Here then they made a pause, and here also they
blessed God. Now said Christiana, it comes to my mind what was said to us at
the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed: by word, that
is, by the promise; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the
promise is, of that I know something; but what it is to have pardon by deed,
or in the way that it was obtained, Mr Great-heart, I suppose you know;
wherefore it you please let us hear your discourse thereof.

     Great-heart. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained by some one
for another that hath need thereof, not by the person pardoned, but in the
way, saith another, in which I have obtained it. So then to speak to the
question more large, the pardon that you and Mercy and these Boys have
attained, was obtained by another, to wit, by him that let you in at the Gate;
and he hath obtain'd it in this double way, he has performed Righteousness to
cover you, and spilt Blood to wash you in.

     Chris. But if he parts with his Righteousness to us, what will he have
for himself?

     Great-heart. He has more Righteousness than you have need of, or than
he needeth himself.

     Chris. Pray make that appear.

     Great-heart. With all my heart; but first I must premise that he of
whom we are now about to speak is one that has not his fellow. He has two
Natures in one Person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided.
Unto each of these Natures a Righteousness belongeth, and each Righteousness
is essential to that Nature; so that one may as easily cause the Nature to be
extinct, as to separate its Justice or Righteousness from it. Of these
Righteousness therefore we are not made partakers, so as that they, or any of
them, should be put upon us that we might be made just, and live thereby.
Besides these there is a Righteousness which this Person has, as these two
Natures are joined in one. And this is not the Righteousness of the Godhead,
as distinguished from the Manhood; nor the Righteousness of the Manhood, as
distinguished from the Godhead; but a Righteousness which standeth in the
union of both Natures, and may properly be called, the Righteousness that is
essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity of the Mediatory Office
which he was to be intrusted with. If he parts with his first Righteousness,
he parts with his Godhead; if he parts with his second Righteousness, he parts
with the purity of his Manhood; if he parts with this third, he parts with
that perfection that capacitates him to the Office of Mediation. He has
therefore another Righteousness, which standeth in performance, or obedience
to a revealed will, and that is that he puts upon Sinners, and that by which
their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, as by one man's disobedience many
were made Sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made Righteous.

     Chris. But are the other Righteousnesses of no use to us?

     Great-heart. Yes, for though they are essential to his Natures and
Office, and so cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of
them that the Righteousness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious.
The Righteousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his Obedience; the
Righteousness of his Manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify;
and the Righteousness that standeth in the union of these two Natures to his
Office, giveth authority to that Righteousness to do the work for which it is
ordained.

     So then here is a Righteousness that Christ as God has no need of, for he
is God without it; here is a Righteousness that Christ as Man has no need of
to make him so, for he is perfect Man without it; again, here is a
Righteousness that Christ as God-man has no need of, for he is perfectly so
without it. Here then is a Righteousness that Christ, as God, as Man, as God -
man, has no need of, with reference to himself, and therefore he can spare it;
a justifying Righteousness that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he
giveth it away; hence 'tis called the gift of Righteousness. This
Righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the Law,
must be given away: for the Law doth not only bind him that is under it to do
justly, but to use Charity. Wherefore he must, he ought by the Law, if he hath
two Coats, to give one to him that hath none. Now our Lord indeed hath two
Coats, one for himself, and one to spare; wherefore he freely bestows one upon
those that have none. And thus Christiana, and Mercy, and the rest of you that
are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your
Lord Christ is he that has worked, and has given away what he wrought for to
the next poor beggar he meets.

     But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to
God as a price, as well as something prepared to cover us withal. Sin has
delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous Law; now from this curse we
must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we
have done; and this is by the Blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your
place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Thus has he
ransomed you from your transgressions by Blood, and covered your polluted and
deformed souls with Righteousness. For the sake of which God passeth by you,
and will not hurt you when he comes to judge the World.

     Chris. This is brave. Now I see that there was something to be learned by
our being pardoned by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this in
mind, and my Children, do you remember it also. But Sir, was not this it that
made my good Christian's Burden fall from off his shoulder, and that made him
give three leaps for joy?

     Great-heart. Yes, 'twas the belief of this that cut those strings that
could not be cut by other means, and 'twas to give him a proof of the virtue
of this, that he was suffered to carry his Burden to the Cross.

     Chris. I thought so, for tho' my heart was lightful and joyous before,
yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what
I have felt, tho' I have felt but little as yet, that if the most burdened man
in the world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, 'twould make his
heart the more merry and blithe.

     Great-heart. There is not only comfort, and the ease of a Burden
brought to us, by the sight and consideration of these, but an endeared
affection begot in us by it; for who can, if he doth but once think that
pardon comes, not only by promise but thus, but be affected by the way and
means of his redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him?

     Chris. True, methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should
bleed for me. Oh! thou loving One. Oh! thou blessed One. Thou deservest to
have me, thou hast bought me: thou deservest to have me all; thou hast paid
for me ten thousand times more than I am worth. No marvel that this made the
water stand in my Husband's eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on; I
am persuaded he wished me with him; but vile wretch that I was, I let him come
all alone. O Mercy, that thy Father and Mother were here; yea, and Mrs
Timorous also; nay, I wish now with all my heart, that here was Madam Wanton
too. Surely, surely, their hearts would be affected; nor could the fear of the
one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home again,
and to refuse to become good Pilgrims.

     Great-heart. You speak now in the warmth of your affections: will it,
think you, be always thus with you? Besides, this is not communicated to every
one, nor to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There was that stood by,
and that saw the Blood run from his heart to the ground, and yet were so far
off this, that instead of lamenting, they laughed at him; and instead of
becoming his Disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So that all that
you have, my Daughters, you have by a peculiar impression made by a divine
contemplating upon what I have spoken to you. Remember that 'twas told you,
that the Hen by her common call gives no meat to the Chickens. This you have
therefore by a special Grace.

     Now I saw still in my Dream, that they went on until they were come to
the place that Simple and Sloth and Presumption lay and slept in, when
Christian went by on Pilgrimage. And behold they were hanged up in irons, a
little way off on the other side.

     Mercy. Then said Mercy to him that was their Guide and Conductor, What
are those three men? and for what are they hanged there?

     Great-heart. These three men were men of very bad qualities, they had
no mind to be Pilgrims themselves, and whosoever they could they hindered.
They were for sloth and folly themselves, and whoever they could persuade
with, they made so too, and withal taught them to presume that they should do
well at last. They were asleep when Christian went by, and now you go by they
are hanged.

Behold here how the slothful are a sign,
Hung up 'cause holy ways they did decline.
See here too how the child doth play the man,
And weak grow strong when Great-heart leads the van.

     Mercy. But could they persuade any to be of their opinion?

     Great-heart. Yes, they turned several out of the way. There was Slow -
pace that they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short -
wind, with one No-heart, with one Linger-after-lust, and with one Sleepy
- head, and with a young woman her name was Dull, to turn out of the way and
become as they. Besides they brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading
others that he was a Task-master. They also brought up an evil report of the
good Land, saying 'twas not half so good as some pretend it was. They also
began to vilify his Servants, and to count the very best of them meddlesome
troublesome busy-bodies. Further, they would call the Bread of God Husks,
the Comforts of his Children Fancies, the Travel and Labour of Pilgrims things
to no purpose.

     Chris. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall never be
bewailed by me. They have but what they deserve, and I think it is well that
they hang so near the High-way that others may see and take warning. But had
it not been well if their crimes had been engraven in some plate of iron or
brass, and left here, even where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to
other bad men?

     Great-heart. So it is, as you well may perceive if you will go a little
to the Wall.

     Mercy. No, no, let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live
for ever against them. I think it a high favour that they were hanged afore we
came hither, who knows else what they might a done to such poor women as we
are? Then she turned it into a Song saying,

Now then you three, hang there and be a sign
To all that shall against the truth combine.
And let him that comes after fear this end,
If unto Pilgrims he is not a Friend.
And thou, my soul, of all such men beware,
That unto holiness opposers are.

     Thus they went on, till they came at the foot of the Hill Difficulty,
where again their good Friend Mr Great-heart, took an occasion to tell them
of what happened there when Christian himself went by. So he had them first to
the Spring. Lo, saith he, this is the Spring that Christian drank of before he
went up this Hill, and then 'twas clear and good, but now 'tis dirty with the
feet of some that are not desirous that Pilgrims here should quench their
thirst. Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, tro? But said the Guide, It
will do, if taken up, and put into a vessel that is sweet and good; for then
the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water will come out by itself more
clear. Thus therefore Christiana and her Companions were compelled to do. They
took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt
was gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof.

     Next he shewed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the Hill,
where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And said he, these are
dangerous Paths. Two were here cast away when Christian came by; and although,
as you see, these ways are since stopped up with chains, posts and a ditch,
yet there are that will chuse to adventure here, rather than take the pains to
go up this Hill.

     Chris. The way of transgressors is hard. 'Tis a wonder that they can get
into those ways without danger of breaking their necks.

     Great-heart. They will venture; yea, if at any time any of the King's
servants doth happen to see them, and doth call unto them, and tell them that
they are in the wrong ways, and do bid them beware the danger, then they will
railingly return them answer and say, As for the word that thou hast spoken
unto us in the name of the King, we will not hearken unto thee; but we will
certainly do whatsoever thing goeth out of our own mouths, &c. Nay if you look
a little farther, you shall see that these ways are made cautionary enough,
not only by these posts and ditch and chain, but also by being hedged up; yet
they will chuse to go there.

     Cris. They are idle, they love not to take pains, uphill way is
unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, The way of
the slothful man is a Hedge of Thorns. Yea, they will rather chuse to walk
upon a Snare, than to go up this Hill, and the rest of this way to the City.

     Then they set forward, and began to go up the Hill, and up the Hill they
went; but before they got to the top, Christiana began to pant, and said, I
dare say this is a breathing Hill. No marvel if they that love their ease more
than their souls, chuse to themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must
sit down; also the least of the Children began to cry. Come, come, said Great
- heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince's Arbor. Then
took he the little Boy by the hand, and led him up thereto.

     When they were come to the Arbor, they were very willing to sit down, for
they were all in a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, How sweet is rest to them
that labour. And how good is the Prince of Pilgrims to provide such resting -
places for them. Of this Arbor I have heard much, but I never saw it before.
But here let us beware of sleeping; for as I have heard, for that it cost poor
Christian dear.

     Then said Mr Great-heart to the little ones, Come my pretty Boys, how
do you do? What think you now of going on Pilgrimage? Sir, said the least, I
was almost beat out of heart, but I thank you for lending me a hand at my
need. And I remember now what my Mother has told me, namely, That the way to
Heaven is as up a Ladder, and the way to Hell is as down a Hill. But I had
rather go up the Ladder to Life, than down the Hill to Death.

     Then said Mercy, But the Proverb is, To go down the Hill is easy. But
James said (for that was his name) The day is coming when in my opinion going
down Hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good Boy, said his Master, thou
hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled, but the little Boy did
blush.

     Chris. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a little to sweeten
your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs? For I have here a piece of
Pomegranate, which Mr Interpreter put in my hand, just when I came out of his
doors. He gave me also a piece of an Honey-comb, and a little Bottle of
Spirits. I thought he gave you something, said Mercy, because he called you a
to-side. Yes, so he did, said the other; but Mercy, it shall still be, as I
said it should, when at first we came from home, thou shalt be a sharer in all
the good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my Companion.
Then she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the Boys. And said
Christiana to Mr Great-heart, Sir, will you do as we? But he answered, You
are going on Pilgrimage, and presently I shall return: much good may what you
have do to you, at home I eat the same every day. Now when they had eaten and
drank, and had chatted a little longer, their Guide said to them, The day
wears away, if you think good, let us prepare to be going. So they got up to
go, and the little Boys went before. But Christiana forgat to take her Bottle
of Spirits with her, so she sent her little Boy back to fetch it. Then said
Mercy, I think this is a losing place. Here Christian lost his Roll, and here
Christiana left her Bottle behind her. Sir, what is the cause of this? So
their Guide made answer and said, The cause is sleep or forgetfulness: some
sleep when they should keep awake, and some forget when they should remember;
and this is the very cause, why often at the resting-places, some Pilgrims
in some things come off losers. Pilgrims should watch, and remember what they
have already received under their greatest enjoyment; but for want of doing
so, oft-times their Rejoicing ends in Tears, and their Sun-shine in a
Cloud: witness the story of Christian at this place.

     When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met
Christian to persuade him to go back for fear of the Lions, they perceived as
it were a Stage, and before it towards the Road a broad plate with a Copy of
Verses written thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that Stage
in that place rendered. The Verses were these:

Let him that sees this Stage take heed
Unto his Heart and Tongue;
Lest if he do not, here he speed
As some have long agone.

     The words underneath the Verses were, This Stage was built to punish such
upon, who through timorousness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on
Pilgrimage. Also on this Stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burned through
the Tongue with an hot Iron, for endeavouring to hinder Christian in his
Journey.

     Then said Mercy, This is much like to the saying of the Beloved, What
shall be given unto thee? or what shall be done unto thee, thou false Tongue?
Sharp Arrows of the mighty, with coals of Juniper.

     So they went on, till they came within sight of the Lions. Now Mr Great -
heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid of a Lion; but yet when they were
come up to the place where the Lions were, the Boys that went before were glad
to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the Lions; so they stept back, and
went behind. At this their Guide smiled, and said. How now, my Boys, do you
love to go before when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so
soon as the Lions appear?

     Now as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew his Sword, with intent to
make a way for the Pilgrims in spite of the Lions. Then there appeared one,
that it seems, had taken upon him to back the Lions; and he said to the
Pilgrims' Guide, What is the cause of your coming hither? Now the name of that
man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of Pilgrims, and he was
of the race of the Giants.

     Great-heart. Then said the Pilgrims' Guide, These Women and Children
are going on Pilgrimage, and this is the way they must go, and go it they
shall in spite of thee and the Lions.

     Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come
forth to withstand them, and to that end will back the Lions.

     Now to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the Lions, and of the
grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much un -
occupied, and was almost all grown over with Grass.

     Chris. Then said Christiana, Tho' the High-ways have been un-occupied
heretofore, and tho' the Travellers have been made in time past to walk
through by-paths, it must not be so now I am risen, now I am risen a Mother
in Israel.

     Grim. Then he swore by the Lions, but it should, and therefore bid them
turn aside, for they should not have passage there.

     Great-heart. But their Guide made first his approach unto Grim, and
laid so heavily at him with his Sword, that he forced him to a retreat.

     Grim. Then said he (that attempted to back the Lions) Will you slay me
upon mine own ground?

     Great-heart. 'Tis the King's High-way that we are in, and in his way
it is that thou hast placed thy Lions; but these Women and these Children,
tho' weak, shall hold on their way in spite of thy Lions. And with that he
gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this
blow he also broke his Helmet, and with the next he cut off an arm. Then did
the Giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the Women, and yet they
were glad to see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the Lions were
chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. Wherefore when old Grim that
intended to back them was dead, Mr Great-heart said to the Pilgrims, Come
now and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the Lions. They
therefore went on, but the Women trembled as they passed by them; the Boys
also looked as if they would die, but they all got by without further hurt.

     Now then they were within sight of the Porter's Lodge, and they soon came
up unto it; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because
'tis dangerous travelling there in the Night. So when they were come to the
Gate, the Guide knocked, and the Porter cried, Who is there? But as soon as
the Guide had said, It is I, he knew his voice, and came down (for the Guide
had oft before that come thither as a Conductor of Pilgrims). When he was come
down, he opened the Gate, and seeing the Guide standing just before it (for he
saw not the Women, for they were behind him) he said unto him, How now, Mr
Great-heart, what is your business here so late to-night? I have brought,
said he, some Pilgrims hither, where by my Lord's commandment they must lodge.
I had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the Giant that did
use to back the Lions' but I after a long and tedious combat with him, have
cut him off, and have brought the Pilgrims hither in safety.

     Porter. Will you not go in, and stay till morning?

     Great-heart. No, I will return to my Lord to-night.

     Chris. Oh Sir, I know not how to be willing you should leave us in our
Pilgrimage, you have been so faithful and so loving to us, you have fought so
stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that I shall
never forget your favour towards us.

     Mercy. Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy company to our Journey's
end. How can such poor Women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as
this way is, without a Friend and Defender?

     James. Then said James, the youngest of the Boys, Pray Sir, be persuaded
to go with us, and help us, because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous
as it is.

     Great-heart. I am at my Lord's commandment. If he shall allot me to be
your Guide quite through, I will willingly wait upon you. But here you failed
at first; for when he bid me come thus far with you, then you should have
begged me of him to have gone quite through with you, and he would have
granted your request. However at present I must withdraw, and so, good
Christiana, Mercy, and my brave Children Adieu.

     Then the Porter, Mr Watchful, asked Christiana of her Country, and of her
Kindred. And she said, I came from the City of Destruction, I am a Widow
woman, and my Husband is dead, his name was Christian the Pilgrim. How, said
the Porter, was he your Husband? Yes, said she, and these are his Children;
and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my Towns-women. Then the Porter rang
his bell, as at such times he is wont, and there came to the door one of the
Damsels, whose name was Humble-mind. And to her the Porter said, Go tell it
within that Christiana the Wife of Christian, and her Children, are come
hither on Pilgrimage. She went in therefore and told it. But O what a noise
for gladness was there within, when the Damsel did but drop that word out of
her mouth.

     So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christiana stood still at the
door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, Come in Christiana, come in
thou Wife of that good man, come in thou blessed woman, come in with all that
are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her that were her Children
and her Companions. Now when they were gone in, they were had into a very
large room, where they were bidden to sit down, so they sat down; and the
Chief of the house was called to see and welcome the Guests. Then they came
in, and understanding who they were, did salute each other with a kiss, and
said, Welcome ye Vessels of the Grace of God, welcome to us your Friends.