Delivered Under the Similitude of a
Dream Wherein Is Discovered the Manner of His Setting Out,
His Dangerous Journey, and Safe Arrival at the Desired Country
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted
on a certain place where was a Den, and I laid me down in
that place to sleep: and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I
dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags, standing
in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book
in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I looked, and
saw him open the book, and read therein; and, as he read,
he wept, and trembled; and, not being able longer to contain,
he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, What shall I do?
In this plight, therefore, he went
home and refrained himself as long as he could, that his wife
and children should not perceive his distress; but he could
not be silent long, because that his trouble increased. Wherefore
at length he brake his mind to his wife and children; and
thus he began to talk to them: O my dear wife, said he, and
you the children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in
myself undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me;
moreover, I am for certain informed that this our city will
be burned with fire from heaven; in which fearful overthrow,
both myself, with thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall
miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some
way of escape can be found, whereby we may be delivered. At
this his relations were sore amazed; not for that they believed
that what he had said to them was true, but because they thought
that some frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore,
it drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might
settle his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. But
the night was as troublesome to him as the day; wherefore,
instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So, when
the morning was come, they would know how he did. He told
them, Worse and worse: he also set to talking to them again;
but they began to be hardened. They also thought to drive
away his distemper by harsh and surly carriages to him; sometimes
they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes
they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire
himself to his chamber, to pray for and pity them, and also
to condole his own misery; he would also walk solitarily in
the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying: and
thus for some days he spent his time.
Now, I saw, upon a time, when he was
walking in the fields, that he was, as he was wont, reading
in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind; and, as he
read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, What shall
I do to be saved?
I saw also that he looked this way
and that way, as if he would run; yet he stood still, because,
as I perceived, he could not tell which way to go. I looked
then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, who asked,
Wherefore dost thou cry? He answered, Sir, I perceive by the
book in my hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that
to come to judgment; and I find that I am not willing to do
the first, nor able to do the second.
Christian no sooner leaves the World
but meets Evangelist, who lovingly him greets With tidings
of another: and doth shew Him how to mount to that from this
below.
Then said Evangelist, Why not willing
to die, since this life is attended with so many evils? The
man answered, Because I fear that this burden that is upon
my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall
into Tophet. And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I
am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from thence
to execution; and the thoughts of these things make me cry.
Then said Evangelist, If this be thy
condition, why standest thou still? He answered, Because I
know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll,
and there was written within, Flee from the wrath to come.
The man, therefore, read it, and looking
upon Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must I fly?
Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very
wide field, Do you see yonder wicket-gate? The man said, No.
Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light? He said,
I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your
eye, and go up directly thereto: so shalt thou see the gate;
at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou
shalt do.
So I saw in my dream that the man began
to run. Now, he had not run far from his own door, but his
wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to
return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on,
crying, Life! life! eternal life! So he looked not behind
him, but fled towards the middle of the plain.
The neighbours also came out to see
him run; and, as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and
some cried after him to return; and, among those that did
so, there were two that resolved to fetch him back by force.
The name of the one was Obstinate and the name of the other
Pliable. Now, by this time, the man was got a good distance
from them; but, however, they were resolved to pursue him,
which they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then
said the man, Neighbours, wherefore are ye come? They said,
To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can
by no means be; you dwell, said he, in the City of Destruction,
the place also where I was born: I see it to be so; and, dying
there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave,
into a place that burns with fire and brimstone: be content,
good neighbours, and go along with me.
Obst. What! and leave our friends and
our comforts behind us?
Chr. Yes, for that was his name, because
that ALL which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared
with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy; and, if
you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as
I myself; for there, where I go, is enough and to spare. Come
away, and prove my words.
Obst. What are the things you seek,
since you leave all the world to find them?
Chr. I seek an inheritance incorruptible,
undefiled, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up in
heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed, at the time appointed,
on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will,
in my book.
Obst. Tush! said Obstinate, away with
your book; will you go back with us or no?
Chr. No, not I, said the other, because
I have laid my hand to the plough.
Obst. Come, then, neighbour Pliable,
let us turn again, and go home without him; there is a company
of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that, when they take a fancy
by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that
can render a reason.
Pli. Then said Pliable, Don't revile;
if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks
after are better than ours: my heart inclines to go with my
neighbour.
Obst. What! more fools still! Be ruled
by me, and go back; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow
will lead you? Go back, go back, and be wise.
Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy
neighbour, Pliable; there are such things to be had which
I spoke of, and many more glorious besides. If you believe
not me, read here in this book; and for the truth of what
is expressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood
of Him that made it.
Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, said
Pliable, I begin to come to a point; I intend to go along
with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him: but, my
good companion, do you know the way to this desired place?
Chr. I am directed by a man, whose
name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before
us, where we shall receive instructions about the way.
Pli. Come, then, good neighbour, let
us be going. Then they went both together.
Obst. And I will go back to my place,
said Obstinate; I will be no companion of such misled, fantastical
fellows.
Now, I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate
was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the
plain; and thus they began their discourse.
Chr. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do
you do? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me. Had
even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the powers
and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly
have given us the back.
Pli. Come, neighbour Christian, since
there are none but us two here, tell me now further what the
things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going.
Chr. I can better conceive of them
with my mind, than speak of them with my tongue: but yet,
since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my
book.
Pli. And do you think that the words
of your book are certainly true?
Chr. Yes, verily; for it was made by
Him that cannot lie.
Pli. Well said; what things are they?
Chr. There is an endless kingdom to
be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us, that we
may inhabit that kingdom for ever.
Pli. Well said; and what else?
Chr. There are crowns and glory to
be given us, and garments that will make us shine like the
sun in the firmament of heaven. Pli. This is very pleasant;
and what else?
Chr. There shall be no more crying,
nor Sorrow: for He that is owner of the place will wipe all
tears from our eyes.
Pli. And what company shall we have
there?
Chr. There we shall be with seraphims
and cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look
on them. There also you shall meet with thousands and ten
thousands that have gone before us to that place; none of
them are hurtful, but loving and holy; every one walking in
the sight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance
for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders with their
golden crowns, there we shall see the holy virgins with their
golden harps, there we shall see men that by the world were
cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in
the seas, for the love that they bear to the Lord of the place,
all well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment.
Pli. The hearing of this is enough
to ravish one's heart. But are these things to be enjoyed?
How shall we get to be sharers thereof?
Chr. The Lord, the Governor of the
country, hath recorded that in this book; the substance of
which is, If we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow
it upon us freely.
Pli. Well, my good companion, glad
am I to hear of these things: come on, let us mend our pace.