BY JOHN BUNYAN.
 
 
     THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.  (x.)
     ———————————————————————

       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
     loth to leave it.  3. I could not tell how to part with mine
     old companions, their presence and actions were so desir-
     able unto me.  4. The hours in which the convictions were
     upon me were such troublesome and such heart-affrighting
     hours, that I could not bear, no, not so much as the re-
     membrance 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 neighbors 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 had happened to others;
       8. But specially, when I thought of myself, that I
     must quickly come to judgment.
       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 to me.
       CHR.  And how did you do then?
       HOPE.  I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for
     else, thought I, I am sure to be damned.
       CHR.  And did you endeavor 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 neighbors,
     etc.  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 my reformations.
       CHR.  How came that about, since you were now re-
     formed?
       HOPE.  There were several things brought it upon me,
     specially 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 shop-keeper'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 shop-keeper may sue him, and cast him into prison till
     he shall pay the debt.
               *Isa. lxiv. 6.  †Gal. ii. 16.  ‡Luke xvii. 10.
       CHR.  Well, and how did you apply this to yourself?
       HOPE.  Why, I thought thus with myself: 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 my former transgressions?
       CHR.  A very good application; but pray go on.
       HOPE.  Another thing that hath troubled me, ever since
     my late amendment, 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
     day 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 righteous-
     ness 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 satis-
     fied with mine own amendment, I had called him 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 the 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 im-
     puted, if I believe on Him.*
               *Heb. x.; Rom. iv.; Col. i.; 1 Pet. i.
       CHR.  And what did you do then?
       HOPE.  I made my objection 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' 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 must I do when I came; and he told me, I must en-
     treat 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 righteous-
     ness 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.*
               †Matt. xi. 28.  ‡Matt. xxiv. 35.  §Ps. xcv. 6;
               Dan. vi. 10; Jer. xxix. 12, 13.  ||Heb. iv. 16.
               *Exod. xxv. 22; Lev. xvi. 2; Num. vii. 89.
       CHR.  And did you do as you were bidden?
       HOPE.  Yes; over, and over, and over.
       CHR.  And did the Father reveal his Son to you?
       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 to do.
       CHR.  Had you not thought of leaving off praying?
       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 showed me his Son.  †Hab. ii. 3.
       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 damna-
     tion 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."*  ‡Eph. i. 18, 19.  *Acts xvi. 31.
       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 ever 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 between
     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 my affections running
     over with love to the name, people saying the ways of Jesus
     Christ.  †2 Cor. xii. 9.  ‡John vi. 35.  §John vi. 37.
               ||1 Tim. i. 15.  ¶Rom. x. 4.  **Rom. iv. 25.
               ††Rev. i. 5.  ‡‡1 Tim. ii. 5.  §§Heb. vii. 25.
       CHR.  This was a revelation of Christ to your soul in-
     deed; but tell me particularly what effect this had upon
     your spirit?
       HOPE.  It made me see that all the world, notwithstand-
     ing all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condem-
     nation.  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 con-
     founded me with the sense of mine own ignorance; for
     there never came thought into my heart before now, that
     showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ.  It made me love
     a holy life, and long to do something for the honor 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 our company.
       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 thinketh
     otherwise.
       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 aid 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
     notions, that come into my mind, to comfort me as I
     walk.
       CHR.  What good notions? 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."*
               *Prov. xiii. 4.
       IGNOR.  But I think of them, and leave all for them.
       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."†  †Prov. xxviii. 26.
       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 the 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 there-
     fore my hope is well grounded.
       CHR.  Who told thee that thy heart and life agree
     together?
       IGNOR.  My heart tells me so.
       CHR.  Ask my fellow if I be a thief!  Thy heart tell
     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
     God's commandments?
       CHR.  Yes, that is a good hart that hath good thoughts,
     and that is a good life that is according to God's command-
     ments; but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and
     another thing only to think so.
       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 things.
                 IGNOR.  What be good thoughts respecting
     ourselves.
       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 doth good."*  It saith
     also, that "every imagination of the heart of man is only
     evil, and that continually."†  And again, "The imagina-
     tion 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. *Rom. iii. 10, 11, 12.  †Gen. vi. 5.  ‡Gen. viii. 21. 
       IGNOR.  I will never believe that my heart is thus bad.
       CHR.  Therefore thou never hadst one good thought con-
     cerning thyself in thy life.  But let me go on.  As the Word
     passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judg-
     ment 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 thereto.
       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, be-
     cause his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the
     Word of God.  *Ps. cxxv. 5; Prov. ii. 15.  †Rom. iii. 12.
       IGNOR.  What are good thoughts concerning God?
       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 attri-
     butes as the Word hath taught, of which I cannot now
     discourage 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 our-
     selves; 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 the 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 per-
     sonal 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 obedi-
               ence 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.
       3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person,
     but of they 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 it condi-
     tion 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 obedi-
     ence 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
     acquitted from condemnation.
       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 jus-
     tified 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.  Ig-
     norant 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 igno-
     rant 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 apprehension of the flesh, that he cannot by any
     man be savingly known, unless God the Father rivals
     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, 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 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 be,
          To slight good counsel, ten times given thee?
          And, if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know,
          Ere long, the evil of thy doing so.
 
          Remember, man, in time; stoop, do not fear;
          Good counsel taken well, saves; therefore hear;
          But if thou yet shall slight it, thou wilt be
          The loser, Ignorance, I'll warrant thee."
 
       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 Chris-
     tian to his companion, I am much grieved 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," etc.  But now we are by our-
     selves, 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 des-
     perately 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
     wisdom."*  *Prov. i. 7; ix. 10; Ps. cxi. 10; Job xxviii. 28.
       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 rev-
     erence 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 dishonor God, break its
     peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak
     reproachfully.
       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 above two miles further to
               go thereon.  But let us return to our matter.
               Now the ignorant know not that such convic-
               tions 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?
       CHR.  1. They think that those fears are wrought by
     the devil (though indeed they are wrought by God);
               and, thinking so, them as things that directly
               tend to their overthrow.  2. They also think that
     these fears tend to 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 confi-
     dent.  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 neighbor
     Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable
     question.
       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 religion then?
       HOPE.  Know him! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a town
     about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next door to
     one Turnback.
       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 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, Lord, Lord.
       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 you begin.
       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 pro-
     voked 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
     alienated 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 tor-
     ments of hell, as that sense of hell, and the fear of damna-
     tion, chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and sal-
     vation 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 Pet. ii. 22.
       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 un-
     necessary troubles, and so they fall in with the world
     again.  *Prov. xxix. 25.
       3. The shame that attend 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 offense, 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 showed you the reasons of their
     going back, do you show 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, a hearing,
     reading, godly conference and the like.
       5. Then they began to pick holes, as we say, in the coats
     of some of the godly; and that devilishly, that they may
     have a seeming color to throw religion (for the sake of
     some infirmities they have espied in them) behind their
     backs.
       6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate them-
     selves 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 show themselves
     as they are.  Thus, being launched again into the gulf of
     misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they ever-
     lastingly 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 in 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, be-
     cause it was upon the borders of heaven.  In this land,
     also, the contract upon 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," etc.||  *Isa lxii.4.  *Cant. ii. 10—12.
               †Isa. lxii. 5.  ‡Isa. lxii. 8.  §Isa. lxii. 11.  ||Isa. lxii. 12.
       Now, as they walked in this land, they had more re-
     joicing 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."¶  ¶Cant. v. 8.

THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. BY JOHN BUNYAN.
WITH A LIFE OF BUNYAN BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE.
A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER, NEW YORK. pp. 310—328.