The Pilgrim's Progress

by John Bunyan


Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Part II - Chapter II


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[220] 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[221] 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,[222] 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."

[224]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."

Then He took her by the hand, and let her in, and said also, "Suffer the little children to come unto me;" and with that He shut up the gate. This done, He called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana with shouting and sound of trumpet for joy. So he obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes.

Now, all this while poor Mercy did stand without trembling and crying, for fear that she was rejected. But when Christiana had got admittance for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy.

MERCY FALLS IN A SWOON Chr. And she said, "My Lord, I have a companion of mine that stands yet without, that is come hither upon the same account as myself,[225] one that is much troubled in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for; whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come."

Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute was as long to her as an hour; wherefore she prevented Christiana from asking for her more fully by knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked then so loud that she made Christiana to start. Then said the Keeper of the gate, "Who is there?" And said Christiana, "It is my friend."

So He opened the gate and looked out; but Mercy was fallen down without in a swoon, for she fainted, and was afraid that no gate would be opened to her.

Then he took her by the hand, and said, "Maiden, I bid thee arise."

"Oh, sir," said she, "I am faint: there is scarce life left in me."

But He answered that "One once said, 'When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer came in unto Thee, into Thy holy temple.' Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come."

Mer. I am come for that unto which I was never invited, as my friend Christiana was. Hers was from the King, and mine was but from her. Wherefore I fear I presume.

Keep. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place?

[226]Mer. Yes; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And if there is any grace and forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that I, Thy poor handmaiden, may be partaker thereof.

MERCY PERMITTED TO ENTER Then He took her again by the hand, and led her gently in, and said, "I pray for all them that believe on me, by what means soever they come unto me." Then said He to those that stood by, "Fetch something, and give it to Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting." So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and a while after she was revived.

And now was Christiana and her boys and Mercy received of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto by Him. Then said they yet further unto Him, "We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord His pardon and further information what we must do."

"I grant pardon," said He, "by word and deed: by word, in the promise of forgiveness; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed."

Now, I saw in my dream, that He spake many good words unto them, whereby they were greatly gladded. He also had them up to the top of the gate, and showed them by what deed they were saved; and told them withal that that sight they would have again as they went along the way, to their comfort.

So He left them a while in a summer parlor[227] below, where they entered into a talk by themselves; and thus Christiana began:

"O Lord, how glad am I that we are got in hither!"

Mer. So you well may; but I of all have cause to leap for joy.

Chr. I thought one time as I stood at the gate, because I knocked, and none did answer, that all our labor had been lost, specially when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking against us.

Mer. But my worst fear was after I saw that you were taken into His favor, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, "Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left." I had much ado to forbear crying out, "Undone! undone!" And afraid I was to knock any more: but when I looked up to what was written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought that I must either knock again or die; so I knocked, but I cannot tell how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death.

Chr. Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound of them made me start. I thought I never heard such knocking in all my life; I thought you would come in by violent hands, or take the kingdom by storm.

Mer. Alas! to be in my case, who that so was could but have done so? You saw that the door was shut upon me, and that there was a most[228] cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, would not have knocked with all their might? But, pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness? Was He not angry with me?

Chr. When He heard your lumbering noise, He gave a wonderful innocent smile; I believe what you did pleased Him well enough, for He showed no sign to the contrary. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog; had I known that afore, I should not have had heart enough to have ventured myself in this manner. But now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all my heart.

Mer. I will ask, if you please, next time He comes down, why He keeps such a filthy cur in His yard. I hope He will not take it amiss.

"Ay, do," said the children, "and persuade Him to hang him, for we are afraid he will bite us when we go hence."

So at last He came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before Him, and worshiped, and said, "Let my Lord accept the offering of praise which I now offer unto Him with my lips."

MERCY EXPRESSES HER FEARS So He said unto her, "Peace be to thee; stand up." But she continued upon her face, and said, "Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with Thee; yet let me talk with Thee of Thy judgments. Wherefore dost Thou keep so cruel a dog in Thy yard, at the sight of which such women and children[229] as we are ready to fly from the gate with fear?" He answered and said, "That dog has another owner; he also is kept close in another man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his barking: he belongs to the castle which you see there at a distance, but can come up to the walls of this place. He has frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him doth not keep him out of any good-will to me or mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to come and knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I love; but I take all at present patiently. I also give my pilgrims timely help, so that they are not delivered up to his power, to do with them what his doggish nature would prompt him to. But, what! my beloved one, I should suppose, hadst thou known even so much beforehand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door will, rather than lose a supposed alms, run the danger of the bawling, barking, and biting too, of a dog; and shall a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any one from coming to me? I deliver them from the lions, their darling from the power of the dog."

Mer. Then said Mercy, "I confess my ignorance, I spake what I understood not: I acknowledge that Thou doest all things well."

[230]Chr. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way.

So He fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of His steps, according as He had dealt with her husband before.

So I saw in my dream that they walked on in their way, and had the weather very comfortable to them.

Then Christiana began to sing:

"Blessed be the day that I began
A pilgrim for to be;
And blessèd also be the man
That thereto movèd me.
"'Tis true 'twas long ere I began
To seek to live for ever;
But now I run fast as I can:
'Tis better late than never.
"Our tears to joy, our fears to faith,
Are turnèd, as we see;
Thus our beginning (as one saith)
Shows what our end will be."

Now, there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up which Christiana and her companions were to go, a garden, and that garden belonged to him whose was that barking dog, of whom mention was made before. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall; and, being mellow, they that found them did gather them up and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's[231] boys, as boys are apt to do, being pleased with the trees, and the fruit that did hang thereon, did bend the branches down, and pluck the fruit, and begin to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing; but still the boys went on.

"Well," said she, "my sons, you do wrong, for that fruit is none of ours;" but she did not know that it did belong to the enemy: I'll warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way.

THE ILL-FAVORED ONES Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from the place that led them unto the way, they espied two very ill-favored ones coming down apace to meet them. With that, Christiana, and Mercy her friend, covered themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey; the children also went on before; so that, at last, they met together. Then they that came down to meet them came just up to the women, as if they would embrace them; but Christiana said, "Stand back, or go peaceably by, as you should."

Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana's words, but began to lay hands upon them. At that, Christiana, waxing very wroth, spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, "Stand back, and be gone; for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends."

[232]Ill-favored One. Then said one of the two men, "We make no assault upon you for money, but are come out to tell you that, if you will grant one small request which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever."

Chr. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again, "We will neither hear nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, and cannot stay; our business is a business of life or death."

So again she and her companions made a fresh attempt to go past them; but they letted them in their way.

Ill-fav. And they said, "We intend no hurt to your lives; it is another thing we would have."

Chr. "Ay," quoth Christiana, "you would have us body and soul, for I know it is for that you are come; but we will die rather upon the spot, than to suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall risk the loss of our well-being hereafter." And, with that, they both shrieked out, and cried, "Murder! murder!" and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women. But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They therefore cried out again.

A RELIEVER APPEARS Now, they being, as I said, far from the gate in at which they came, their voices were heard from where they were, thither; wherefore some of the house came out, and, knowing it was Christiana's tongue, they made haste to her relief.[233] But by the time that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great terror; the children also stood crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call out to the ruffians, saying, "What is that thing you do? Would you make my Lord's people to do wrong?" He also attempted to take them, but they did make their escape over the wall into the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged; so the dog became their protector. This Reliever then came up to the women and asked them how they did.

So they answered, "We thank thy Prince, pretty well, only we have been somewhat affrighted: we thank thee also for that thou camest in to our help, otherwise we had been overcome."

Reliever. So, after a few more words, this Reliever said as followeth: "I marvelled much when you were entertained at the gate above, being ye knew that ye were but weak women, that you asked not the Lord for a conductor. Then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers; for He would have granted you one."

Chr. "Alas!" said Christiana, "we were taken so with our present blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us. Besides, who could have thought that, so near the King's palace, there could have lurked such naughty ones? Indeed, it had been well for us had we asked our Lord for one; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder He sent not one along with us."

[234]Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest, by so doing, they become of little value; but when the want of a thing is felt, then he who needs it feels its preciousness; and so when it is given it will be used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would not either have so bewailed that oversight of yours, in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary.

Chr. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask one?

Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present Him with. To go back again you need not; for, in all places where you shall come, you will find no want at all; for, in every one of my Lord's lodgings, which He has prepared for the care of His pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, He will be asked of by them, to do it for them. And 'tis a poor thing that is not worth asking for.

THE PILGRIMS PROCEED When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went on their way.

Mer. Then said Mercy, "What a sudden blank is here! I made account we had been past all danger, and that we should never see sorrow more."

Chr. "Thy innocence, my sister," said Christiana to Mercy, "may excuse thee much; but as for me, fault is so much the greater, for that[235] I saw the danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it when provision might have been had. I am, therefore, much to be blamed."

Mer. Then said Mercy, "How knew you this before you came from home? Pray, open to me this riddle."

Chr. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this; for methought I saw two men, as like these as ever any in the world could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words. They said (it was when I was in my troubles), "What shall we do with this woman? for she cries out waking and sleeping for forgiveness: if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband." This, you know, might have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had.

Mer. "Well," said Mercy, "as by this neglect we have been made to behold our own imperfections, so our Lord has taken occasion thereby to make manifest the riches of His grace; for He, as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we, of His mere good pleasure."

Return to the The Pilgrim's Progress Summary Return to the John Bunyan Library

Anton Chekhov
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Susan Glaspell
Mark Twain
Edgar Allan Poe
Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
Herman Melville
Stephen Leacock
Kate Chopin
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson