The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan Every Child Can Read

Tim. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where?

Chr. Then Christiana replied, "I have been sorely afflicted since my husband's departure from me, but especially since he went over the river. But that which troubleth me most is my unkind treatment of him when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then: nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a-dreaming last night that I saw him. Oh that my soul was with him! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of the country; he sits and eats with Him at His table; he has become a companion of immortals, and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me but as a dunghill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me, with promises of entertainment if I shall come to Him; His messenger was here even now, and has brought me a letter which invites me to come." And with that she plucked out the letter, and read it, and said to them, "What now will you say to this?"

MERCY ALSO DESIRES TO GO

Tim. Oh, the madness that hath possessed thee and thy husband, to run yourselves upon such difficulties! You have heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet with, even in a manner at the first step that he took on his way, as our neighbor Obstinate can yet testify, for he went along with them, yea, and Pliable too; until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any farther. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten by thee. For if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do? Consider also that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself, yet, for the sake of thy children, keep thou at home.

But Christiana said unto her, "Tempt me not, my neighbor. I have now a price put into my hands to get gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest size if I should have no heart to strike in with the opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles which I am like to meet with in the way, they are so far off from being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in the right. The bitter must come before the sweet, and that also will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet me further."

Then Timorous reviled her, and said to her fellow, "Come, neighbor Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, since she scorns our counsel and company." But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neighbor, and that for a twofold reason. 1. Her heart yearned over Christiana; so she said within herself, "If my neighbor will needs be gone, I will go a little way with her, and help her." 2. Her heart yearned over her own soul; for what Christiana had said had taken hold upon her mind. Wherefore she said within herself again, "I will yet have more talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself, with my heart, shall also go with her." Wherefore Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbor Timorous:

Mer. Neighbor, I did indeed come with you to see Christiana this morning; and since she is, as you see, taking her last farewell of her country, I think to walk this sunshiny morning a little with her, to help her on her way.

But she told her not of the second reason, but kept that to herself.

Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fooling too; but take heed in time, and be wise. While we are out of danger, we are out; but when we are in, we are in.

So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to her journey. But when Timorous was got home to her house, she sends for some of her neighbors; to wit, Mrs. Bat's-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. So, when they were come to her house, she falls to telling of the story of Christiana and of her intended journey. And thus she began her tale:

MRS. TIMOROUS' NEIGHBORS

Tim. Neighbors, having had little to do this morning, I went to give Christiana a visit; and when I came at the door, I knocked, as you know it is our custom; and she answered, "If you come in God's name come in." So in I went, thinking all was well; but when I came in I found her preparing herself to depart the town, she and also her children. So I asked her what was her meaning by that. And she told me, in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she had, and how the King of the country where her husband was had sent her an inviting letter to come thither.

Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, "And, what! do you think she will go?"

Tim. Ay, go she will, whatever comes on't; and methinks I know it by this: for that which was my great reason in persuading her to stay at home (that is, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one great reason with her to put her forward on her journey. For she told me, in so many words, "The bitter goes before the sweet; yea, and forasmuch as it so doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter."

Mrs. Bat's-eyes. "Oh, this blind and foolish woman!" said she; "will she not take warning by her husband's trials? For my part, I see, if he were here again, he would rest him content in a whole skin, and never run so many dangers for nothing."

Mrs. Inconsiderate also replied, saying, "Away with such fantastical fools from the town! a good riddance, for my part, I say, of her! Should she stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could live quietly by her? for she will either be dumpish, or unneighborly, or talk of such matters as no wise body can abide. Wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for her departure: let her go, and let better come in her room. It was never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it."

Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth: "Come, put this kind of talk away. I was yesterday at Madam Wanton's, where we were as merry as the maids. For who do you think should be there, but I and Mrs. Love-the-Flesh, and three or four more, with Mr. Lechery, Mrs. Filth, and some others. So there we had music and dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an admirable well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow."

CHAPTER II.

THE WICKET-GATE

By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with her. So as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to discourse. "And, Mercy," said Christiana, "I take this as an unexpected favor, that thou shouldest set forth out of doors with me, to accompany me a little in my way."

Mer. Then said young Mercy (for she was but young), "If I thought it would be a good purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town any more."

Chr. "Well, Mercy," said Christiana, "cast in thy lot with me: I well know what will be the end of our pilgrimage: my husband is where he would not but be for all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be turned away, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King who hath sent for me and my children is One that delighteth in mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant; yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me, only go along with me."

Mer. But how shall I be sure that I also shall be welcomed? Had I this hope but from one that can tell, I would have no hesitation at all, but would go, being helped by Him that can help, though the way be never so tedious.

Chr. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do: go with me to the wicket-gate, and there I will further inquire for thee; and if there thou dost not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou shalt return to thy place: I also will pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to me and my children, in the accompanying of us in our way as thou dost.

MERCY GOES WITH CHRISTIANA

Mer. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall follow; and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of heaven shall have His heart upon me!

Christiana was then glad at her heart, not only that she had a companion, but also for that she had prevailed with this poor maid to fall in love with her own salvation. So they went on together and Mercy began to weep.

Then said Christiana, "Wherefore weepeth my sister so?"

Mer. "Alas!" said she, "who can but lament, that shall but rightly consider what a state and condition my poor relations are in, that yet remain in our sinful town? And that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because they have no one to teach them nor to tell them what is to come."

Chr. Tenderness becometh pilgrims; and thou dost for thy friends as my good Christian did for me when he left me: he mourned for that I would not heed nor regard him; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears, and put them into His bottle; and now both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and benefit of them I hope, Mercy, that these tears of thine will not be lost; for the Truth hath said that "they that sow in tears shall reap in joy," in singing; and "he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him."

Then said Mercy:

"Let the Most Blessèd be my guide,
If 't be His blessèd will,
Unto His gate, into His fold,
Up to His holy hill.

"And never let Him suffer me
To swerve or turn aside
From His free grace and holy ways,
Whate'er shall me betide.

"And let Him gather them of mine
That I have left behind:
Lord, make them pray they may be Thine,
With all their heart and mind."

Now my old friend proceeded, and said, "But when Christiana came to the Slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand; 'For,' said she, 'this is the place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with mud.' She perceived also that, notwithstanding the command of the King to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly." So I asked if that was true.

"Yes," said the old gentleman, "too true, for many there be that pretend to be the King's laborers, and say they are for mending the King's highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead of mending. Here Christiana, therefore, with her boys, did make a stand. But said Mercy, 'Come, let us venture, only let us be wary.' Then they looked well to their steps, and made shift to get staggeringly over. Yet Christiana had to have been in, and that not once nor twice.

"Now, they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said unto them, 'Blessed is she that believeth, for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord.'

"Then they went on again; and said Mercy to Christiana, 'Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the wicket-gate as you, I think no Slough of Despond would discourage me.'

"'Well,' said the other, 'You know your trouble, and I know mine; and, good friend, we shall have enough evil before we come at our journey's end. For can it be imagined that the people that design to attain such excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as we are, but that we shall meet with what fears, with what troubles and afflictions they can possibly assault us with, that hate us?'"

AT THE WICKET GATE

And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana, and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up to the gate; to which when they were come they betook themselves to a short debate about how they must manage their calling at the gate, and what should be said unto him that did open unto them: so it was concluded, since Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she should speak to him that did open, for the rest. So Christiana began to knock, and, as her poor husband did, she knocked and knocked again. But instead of any that answered, they all thought that they heard as if a dog came barking upon them; a dog, and a great one too: and this made the women and children afraid, nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear the mastiff should fly upon them. Now, therefore, they were greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, and knew not what to do. Knock they durst not, for fear of the dog; go back they durst not, for fear the keeper of the gate should espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them. At last they thought of knocking again, and knocked more loudly than they did at first. Then said the Keeper of the gate, "Who is there?" So the dog left off to bark, and He opened unto them.

Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, "Let not our Lord be offended with His handmaidens, for that we have knocked at His princely gate."

Then said the Keeper, "Whence come ye? and what is it that you would have?"

Christiana answered, "We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon the same errand as he; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted by this gate into the way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in the next place, that I am Christiana, once the wife of Christian, that now is gotten above."

With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, "What! is she now become a pilgrim, that, but a while ago hated that life?"

Then she bowed her head, and said, "Yes; and so are these my sweet babes also."