Fearless Eagle

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1060.

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 03:30:00 +0000

The Lord Will-be-will also had a deputy under him, and his name was Mr. Affection; one that was also greatly debauched in his principles, and answerable thereto in his life (Rom 1:25). He was wholly given to the flesh, and therefore they called him Vile-affection. Now there was he, and one Carnal-lust, the daughter of Mr. Mind (like to like, quoth the devil to the collier) that fell in love, and made a match, and were married; and, as I take it, they had several children, as Impudent, Blackmouth, and Hate-reproof; these three were black boys. And besides these, they had three daughters, as Scorn-truth, and Slightgod, and the name of the youngest was Revenge; these were all married in the town and also begot and yielded many bad brats, too many to be here inserted. But to pass by this.

When the giant had thus engarrisoned himself in the town of Mansoul and had put down and set up whom he thought good, he betakes himself to defacing. Now there was in the marketplace in Mansoul, and also upon the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed King Shaddai; this image was so exactly engraved, and it was engraved in gold, that it did the most resemble Shaddai himself of anything that then was extant in the world. This he basely commanded to be defaced, and it was as basely done by the hand of Mr. No-truth. Now you must know that as Diabolus had commanded, and that by the hand of Mr. No-truth, the image of Shaddai was defaced. He likewise gave order that the same Mr. No-truth should set up in its stead the horrid and formidable image of Diabolus; to the great contempt of the former King, and debasing of his town of Mansoul.

Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of all remains of the laws and statutes of Shaddai that could be found in the town of Mansoul; to wit, such as contained either the doctrines of morals, with all civil and natural documents. Also, relative severities he sought to extinguish. To be short, there was nothing of the remains of good in Mansoul which he and Will-be-will sought not to destroy; for their design was to turn Mansoul into a brute, and to make it like to the sensual sow, by the hand of Mr. No-truth.

When he had destroyed what law and good orders he could, then, further to effect his design—namely, to alienate Mansoul from Shaddai, her king—he commands, and they set up his own vain edicts, statutes, and commandments, in all places of resort or concourse in Mansoul; to wit, such as gave liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the pride of life, which are not of Shaddai, but of the world (1 John 2:16). He encouraged, countenanced, and promoted lasciviousness, and all ungodliness there. Yea, much more did Diabolus to encourage wickedness in the town of Mansoul; he promised them peace, content, joy, and bliss in doing his commands, and that they should never be called to an account for their not doing the contrary. And let this serve to give a taste to them that love to hear tell of what is done beyond their knowledge, afar off in other countries.

Now, Mansoul being wholly at his beck and brought wholly to his bow, nothing was heard or seen therein but that which tended to set him up.

But now, he having disabled the Lord Mayor and Mr. Recorder from bearing of office in Mansoul, and seeing that the town, before he came to it, was the most ancient of corporations in the world; and fearing, if he did not maintain greatness, that they at any time should object that he had done them an injury, therefore, I say, that they might see that he did not intend to lessen their grandeur, or to take from them any of their advantageous things, he did choose for them a Lord Mayor and a Recorder himself; and such as contented them at the heart, and such also as pleased him wondrous well.

The name of the Mayor that was of Diabolus' making was the Lord Lustings; a man that had neither eyes nor ears; all that he did, whether as a man or as an officer, he did it naturally, as doth the beast. And that which made him yet the more ignoble, though not to Mansoul, yet to them that beheld and were grieved for its ruins, was, that he never could savor good, but evil.

The Recorder was one named Forget-good, and a very sorry fellow he was. He could remember nothing but mischief and doing it with delight. He was naturally prone to do things that were hurtful, even hurtful to the town of Mansoul and to all the dwellers there. These two, therefore, by their power and practice, example and smiles upon evil, did much more harm, and settled the common people in hurtful ways. For who doth not perceive, but when those that sit aloft are vile, and corrupt themselves, they corrupt the whole region and country where they are?

Besides these, Diabolus made several burgesses and aldermen in

Mansoul, such as out of whom the town, when it needed, might choose

the officers, governors, and magistrates. And these are the names

of the chief of them, Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Haughty, Mr. Swearing,

Mr. Whoring, Mr. Hard-heart, Mr. Pitiless, Mr. Fury, Mr. No-truth,

Mr. Stand-to-lies, Mr. False-peace, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Cheating,

Mr. Atheism—thirteen in all. Mr. Incredulity is the eldest, and

Mr. Atheism, the youngest, of the company.

There was also an election of common councilmen, and others, as bailiffs, sergeants, constables, and others; but all of them, like those afore-named, were either fathers, brothers, cousins, or nephews to them; whose names, for brevity's sake, I omit to mention.

When the giant had thus far proceeded in his work, in the next place, he betook himself to build some strongholds in the town. And he built three that seemed to be impregnable. The first he called the Hold of Defiance, because it was made to command the whole town, and to keep it from the knowledge of its ancient King. The second he called Midnight-hold, because it was built on purpose to keep Mansoul from the true knowledge of itself. The third was called Sweet-sin-hold, because by that he fortified Mansoul against all desires of good. The first of these holds stood close by Eye-gate, that as much might be light might be darkened there. The second was built hard by the old castle, so that it might be made more blind, if possible. And the third stood in the marketplace.

He that Diabolus made governor over the first of these was one Spite-god, a most blasphemous wretch. He came with the whole rabble of them that came against Mansoul at first, and was himself one of themselves. He that was made the governor of Midnight-hold was one Love-no-light; he was also of them that came first against the town. And he that was made the governor of the hold called Sweet-sin-hold, was one whose name was Love-flesh; he was also a very lewd fellow, but not of that country where the other are bound. This fellow could find more sweetness when he stood sucking of a lust, than he did in all the paradise of God.

And now Diabolus thought himself safe; he had taken Mansoul; he had engarrisoned himself therein; he had put down the old officers, and had set up new ones; he had defaced the image of Shaddai, and had set up his own; he had spoiled the old law-books, and had promoted his own vain lies; he had made him new magistrates, and set up new aldermen; he had built him new holds, and had manned them for himself. And all this he did to make himself secure, in case the good Shaddai, or his Son, should come to make an incursion upon him.

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1059

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Wed, 03 Jun 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Wherefore, sometimes, when Mansoul did use to be frightened with the thundering voice of the Recorder that was, and when they did tell Diabolus of it, he would answer that what the old gentleman said was neither of love to him nor pity to them, but of a foolish fondness that he had to be prating; and so would hush, still, and put all to quiet again. And that he might leave no argument unurged that might tend to make them secure, he said, and said it often, O Mansoul! consider that, notwithstanding the old gentleman's rage and the rattle of his high and thundering words, you hear nothing of Shaddai himself, when, liar and deceiver that he was, every outcry of Mr. Recorder against the sin of Mansoul was the voice of God in him to them. But he goes on and says, You see that he values not the loss, nor rebellion of the town of Mansoul, nor will he trouble himself with calling of his town to a reckoning for their giving of themselves to me. He knows that though ye were his, now you are lawfully mine; so, leaving us one to another, he now hath shaken his hands of us.

Moreover, O Mansoul! quoth he, consider how I have served you, even to the uttermost of my power; and that with the best that I have, could get, or procure for you in all the world: besides, I dare say, that the laws and customs that you now are under, and by which you do homage to me, do yield you more solace and content than did the paradise that at first you possessed. Your liberty also, as yourselves do very well know, has been greatly widened and enlarged by me; whereas I found you a pent-up people. I have not laid any restraint upon you; you have no law, statute, or judgment of mine to frighten you; I call none of you to account for your doings, except the madman (you know who I mean). I have granted you to live, each man, like a prince, in his own, even with as little control from me as I myself have from you.

And thus would Diabolus hush up, and quiet the town of Mansoul, when the Recorder, that was, did at times molest them; yea, and with such cursed orations as these would set the whole town in a rage and fury against the old gentleman; yea, the rascal crew at some times would be for destroying him. They have often wished, in my hearing, that he had lived a thousand miles off from them: his company, his words, yea, the sight of him, and especially when they remembered how in old times he did use to threaten and condemn them,—for all he was now so debauched—did terrify and afflict them sore.

But all wishes were vain; for I do not know how, unless by the power of Shaddai, and his wisdom, he was preserved in being amongst them. Besides, his house was as strong as a castle, and stood hard to a stronghold of the town. Moreover, if at any time any of the crew or rabble attempted to make him away, he could pull up the sluices and let in such floods as would drown all round about him.

But to leave Mr. Recorder, and to come to my Lord Will-be-will, another of the gentry of the famous town of Mansoul. This Will-be-will was as high-born as any man in Mansoul, and was as much, if not more, a freeholder than many of them were: besides, if I remember my tale aright, he had some privileges peculiar to himself in the famous town of Mansoul. Now, together with these, he was a man of great strength, resolution, and courage; nor in his occasion could any turn him away. But I say, whether he was proud of his estate, privileges, strength, or what, but sure it was through pride of something—he scorns now to be a slave in Mansoul; and therefore resolves to bear office under Diabolus, that he might, such an one as he was, be a petty ruler and governor in Mansoul. And, headstrong man that he was, thus he began betimes; for this man, when Diabolus did make his oration at Ear-gate, was one of the first that was for consenting to his words, and for accepting of his counsel at wholesome, and that was for the opening of the gate, and for letting him into the town: wherefore Diabolus had a kindness for him and therefore he designed for him a place; and perceiving the valour and stoutness of the man, he coveted to have him for one of his great ones, to act and to do in matters of the highest concern.

So he sent for him and talked with him of that secret matter that lay in his breast, but there needed not much persuasion in the case; for as at first he was willing that Diabolus should be let into the town, so now he was as willing to serve him there. When the tyrant therefore perceived the willingness of my Lord to serve him, and that his mind stood bending that way, he forthwith made him the captain of the castle, governor of the wall, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul; yea, there was a clause in his commission that nothing without him should be done in all the town of Mansoul. So that now, next to Diabolus himself, who but my Lord Will-be-will in all the town of Mansoul; nor could anything now be done, but at his will and pleasure, throughout the town of Mansoul. He also had one Mr. Mind for his clerk, a man to speak on, every way like his master; for he and his Lord were in principle one, and in practice not far asunder (Rom 8:7). And now was Mansoul brought under to purpose, and made to fulfill the lusts of the will and of the mind.

But it will not get out of my thoughts what a desperate one this Will-be-will was when power was put into his hand. First, he flatly denied that he owed any suit or service to his former prince and liege Lord. This done, in the next place he took an oath, and swore fidelity to his great master Diabolus, and then, being seated and settled in his places, offices, advancements, and preferments, oh! You cannot think, unless you have seen it, the strange work that this workman made in the town of Mansoul!

First, he maligned Mr. Recorder to death; he would neither endure to see him, nor to hear the words of his mouth; he would shut his eyes when he saw him, and stop his ears when he heard him speak: also, he could not endure that so much as a fragment of the law of Shaddai should be anywhere seen in the town. For example, his clerk, Mr. Mind, had some old, rent, and torn parchments of the law of good Shaddai in his house, but when Will-be-will saw them, he cast them behind his back (Neh 9:26). True, Mr. Recorder had some of the laws in his study, but my Lord could by no means come at them: he also thought, and said, that the windows of my old Lord Mayor's house were always too light for the profit of the town of Mansoul. The light of a candle he could not endure. Now, nothing at all pleased Will-be-will but what pleased Diabolus his Lord.

There was none like him to trumpet about the streets the brave nature, the wise conduct, and great glory of the King Diabolus. He would range and rove throughout all the streets of Mansoul to cry up his illustrious Lord, and would make himself even as an abject, among the base and rascal crew, to cry up his valiant prince. And I say, when and wheresoever he found these vassals, he would even make himself as one of them. In all ill courses, he would act without bidding and do mischief without commandment.

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1058

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Tue, 02 Jun 2026 03:30:00 +0000

[CHAPTER II.]

[CONTENTS:—Diabolus takes possession of the castle—The Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, is deposed, and a wall is built before his house, to darken it—Mr. Conscience, the Recorder, is put out of office and becomes very obnoxious both to Diabolus and to the inhabitants. My Lord Will-be-will, heartily espousing the cause of Diabolus, is made the principal governor of the town. The image of Shaddai is defaced, and that of Diabolus is set up in its stead. Mr. Lustings is made Lord Mayor, and Mr. Forget-good, Recorder—New alderman appointed—Three forts built to defend the town against Shaddai.]

Diabolus having now obtained entrance in at the gates of the town, marches up to the middle thereof, to make his conquest as sure as he could, and finding by this time the affections of the people warmly inclining to him, he, as thinking it was best striking while the iron is hot, made this further deceivable speech unto them, saying, Alas, my poor Mansoul! I have done thee indeed this service, as to promote thee to honor, and to greaten thy liberty, but alas! alas! Poor Mansoul, thou wantest now one to defend thee, for assure thyself that when Shaddai shall hear what is done, he will come; for sorry will he be that thou hast broken his bonds, and cast his cords away from thee. What wilt thou do—wilt thou, after enlargement, suffer thy privileges to be invaded and taken away? Or what wilt resolve with thyself? Then they all, with one consent, said to this bramble, Do thou reign over us. So he accepted the motion and became the king of the town of Mansoul. This being done, the next thing was to give him possession of the castle, and so of the whole strength of the town. Wherefore into the castle he goes—it was that which Shaddai built in Mansoul for his own delight and pleasure—this now was become a den and hold for the giant Diabolus.

Now having got possession of this stately palace or castle, what doth he but make it a garrison for himself, and strengthen and fortify it with all sorts of provision against the King Shaddai, or those that should endeavor the regaining of it to him and his obedience again.

This done, but not thinking himself yet secure enough, in the next place, he bethinks himself of new-modeling the town; and so he does, setting up one, and putting down another at pleasure. Wherefore my Lord Mayor, whose name was my Lord Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, those he puts out of place and power.

As for my Lord Mayor, though he was an understanding man, and one too that had complied with the rest of the town of Mansoul in admitting the giant into the town, yet Diabolus thought not fit to let him abide in his former luster and glory, because he was a seeing man. Wherefore he darkened it not only by taking from him his office and power, but by building a high and strong tower, just between the sun's reflections, and the windows of my Lord's palace (2 Cor 10:4,5); by which means his house and all, and the whole of his habitation, was made as dark as darkness itself. And thus being alienated from the light, he became as one that was born blind (Eph 4:18,19). To this, his house, my Lord was confined as to a prison; nor might he be upon his parole go farther than within his own bounds. And now that he had a heart to do for Mansoul, what could he do for it, or wherein could he be profitable to her? So then, so long as Mansoul was under the power and government of Diabolus—and so long it was under him as it was obedient to him; which was even until by a war it was rescued out of his hands—so long my Lord Mayor was rather an impediment in, than advantage to, the famous town of Mansoul.

As for Mr. Recorder, before the town was taken, he was a man well read in the laws of his King, and also a man of courage and faithfulness, to speak truth at every occasion; and he had a tongue as bravely hung as he had a head filled with judgment. Now this man, Diabolus, could by no means abide, because, though he gave his consent to his coming into the town, yet he could not, by all wiles, trials, stratagems, and devices that he could use, make him wholly his own. True, he was much degenerated from his former King, and also much pleased with many of the giant's laws and service; but all this would not do, forasmuch as he was not wholly his. He would now and then think upon Shaddai, and have dread of his law upon him, and then he would speak with a voice as great against Diabolus as when a lion roareth; yea, and would also at certain times when his fits were upon him—for you must know that sometimes he had terrible fits—[he would] make the whole town of Mansoul shake with his voice: and, therefore, the now king of Mansoul could not abide him.

Diabolus, therefore, feared the Recorder more than any that was left alive in the town of Mansoul, because, as I said, his words did shake the whole town; they were like the rattling thunder, and also like thunder-claps. Since, therefore, the giant could not make him wholly his own, what doth he do but studies all that he could to debauch the old gentleman; and by debauchery to stupefy his mind, and more harden his heart in ways of vanity. And as he attempted, so he accomplished his design; he debauched the man, and by little and little so drew him into sin and wickedness, that at last he was not only debauched as at first, and so by consequence defiled, but was almost, at last, I say, past all conscience of sin. And this was the furthest Diabolus could go. Wherefore he bethinks him of another project; and that was to persuade the men of the town that Mr. Recorder was mad, and so not to be regarded: and for this he urged his fits, and said, If he be himself, why doth he not do thus always? But, quoth he, as all mad folks have their fits, and in them their raving language, so hath this old and doating gentleman.

Thus, by one means or another, he quickly got Mansoul to slight, neglect, and despise whatever Mr. Recorder could say. Besides what you have already heard, Diabolus had a way to make the old gentleman, when he was merry, unsay and deny what he in his fits had affirmed; and, indeed, this was the next way to make himself ridiculous, and to cause that no man should regard him. Also, now he never spoke freely for King Shaddai, but always by force and constraint; besides, he would at one time be hot against that at which at another he would hold his peace, so uneven was he now in his doings. Sometimes he would be as if fast asleep, and again sometimes as dead, even then when the whole town of Mansoul was in her career after vanity, and in her dance after the giant's pipe.

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1057

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Mon, 01 Jun 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Diab. Diabolus then, as if he had been a lamb, began his oration, and said; Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, I am, as you may perceive, no far dweller from you, but near, and one that is bound by the King to do you my homage, and what service I can; wherefore, that I may be faithful to myself, and to you, I have somewhat of concern to impart unto you. Wherefore grant me your audience, and hear me patiently. And, first, I will assure you, it is not myself, but you; not mine, but your advantage that I seek, by what I now do, as will full well be made manifest by that I have opened my mind unto you. For gentlemen, I am, to tell you the truth, come to show you how you may obtain great and ample deliverance from a bondage that, unawares to yourselves, you are captivated and enslaved under. At this, the town of Mansoul began to prick up its ears, and what is it, pray, what is it, thought they; and he said, I have somewhat to say to you concerning your King, concerning his law, and also touching yourselves. Touching your King, I know he is great and potent, but yet all that he hath said to you is neither true, nor yet for your advantage.

1. It is not true, for that wherewith he hath hitherto awed you shall not come to pass, nor be fulfilled, though you do the thing that he hath forbidden. But if there was danger, what a slavery is it to live always in fear of the greatest of punishments, for doing so small and trivial a thing as eating of a little fruit is?

2. Touching his laws, this I say further, they are both unreasonable, intricate, and intolerable. Unreasonable, as was hinted before, because the punishment is not proportionate to the offense. There is a great difference and disproportion between life and an apple; yet the one must go for the other, by the law of your Shaddai. But it is also intricate, in that he saith, first, you may eat of all; and yet after, forbids the eating of one. And then, in the last place, it must needs be intolerable, forasmuch as that fruit which you are forbidden to eat of, if you are forbidden any, is that, and that alone, which is able, by your eating, to minister to you a good as yet unknown by you. This is manifest by the very name of the tree; it is called the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and have you that knowledge as yet? No, no, nor can you conceive how good, how pleasant, and how much to be desired to make one wise it is, so long as you stand by your King's commandment. Why should you be held in ignorance and blindness?

Why should you not be enlarged in knowledge and understanding? And now, ah! Ye inhabitants of the famous town of Mansoul, to speak more particularly to yourselves, you are not a free people! You are kept both in bondage and slavery, and that by a grievous threat; no reason being annexed but, so I will have it, so it shall be. And is it not grievous to think on, that that very thing that you are forbidden to do, might you but do it, would yield you both wisdom and honor; for then your eyes will be opened, and you shall be as gods. Now, since this is thus, quoth he, can you be kept by any prince in more slavery, and in greater bondage, than you are under this day? You are made underlings, and are wrapped up in inconveniences, as I have well made appear. For what bondage greater than to be kept in blindness? Will not reason tell you that it is better to have eyes than to be without them; and so to be at liberty, to be better than to be shut up in a dark and stinking cave.

And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance, where he stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in the head; so that he, to the amazement of the townsmen, and the encouragement of Diabolus, fell down dead quite over the wall. Now, when Captain Resistance was dead, and he was the only man of war in the town, poor Mansoul was wholly left naked of courage, nor had she now any heart to resist. But this was as the devil would have it. Then stood forth that He, Mr. Ill-pause, that Diabolus brought with him, who was his orator, and he addressed himself to speak to the town of Mansoul: the tenour of whose speech here follows.

ILL-PAUSE. Gentlemen, quoth he, it is my master's happiness that he has this day a quiet and teachable auditory, and it is hoped by us that we shall prevail with you not to cast off good advice; my master has a very great love for you, and although, as he very well knows, that he runs the hazard of the anger of King Shaddai, yet love to you will make him do more than that. Nor doth there need that a word more should be spoken to confirm for truth what he hath said; there is not a word but carries with it self-evidence in its bowels; the very name of the tree may put an end to all controversy in this matter. I therefore at this time shall only add this advice to you, under, and by the leave of my Lord [and with that he made Diabolus a very low conge]. Consider his words, look on the tree, and the promising fruit thereof; remember also that yet you know but little, and that this is the way to know more; and if your reasons be not conquered to accept of such good counsel, you are not the men that I took you to be. But when the townsfolk saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eye, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, they did as old Ill-pause advised, they took and did eat thereof.

Now this I should have told you before, that even then, when this Ill-pause was making of his speech to the townsmen, my Lord Innocency—whether by a shot from the camp of the giant, or from some sinking qualm that suddenly took him, or whether by the stinking breath of that treacherous villain old Ill-pause, for so I am most apt to think—sunk down in the place where he stood, nor could he be brought to life again. Thus these two brave men died; brave men I call them, for they were the beauty and glory of Mansoul, so long as they lived therein; nor did there now remain any more a noble spirit in Mansoul, they all fell down, and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and became his slaves and vassals, as you shall hear.

Now these being dead, what do the rest of the towns-folk, but as men that had found a fool's paradise, they presently, as afore was hinted, fall to prove the truth of the giant's words; and first they did as Ill-pause had taught them, they looked, they considered, they were taken with the forbidden fruit, they took thereof, and did eat; and having eaten, they became immediately drunken therewith; so they opened the gate, both Ear-gate and Eye-gate, and let in Diabolus with all his bands, quite forgetting their good Shaddai, his law, and the judgment that he had annexed with solemn threatening to the breach thereof.

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1056

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sun, 31 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Wand yet, now, they being thus cast out of all place of trust, profit, and honour, and also knowing that they had lost their prince's favour for ever, being banished his courts, and cast down to the horrible pits, you may be sure they would now add to their former pride what malice and rage against Shaddai, and against his Son, they could. Wherefore, roving and ranging in much fury from place to place, if perhaps they might find something that was the King's, to revenge (by spoiling of that themselves) on him (1 Peter 5:8); at last they happened into this spacious country of Universe, and steer their course towards the town of Mansoul; and considering that that town was one of the chief works and delights of King Shaddai, what do they but, after counsel taken, make an assault upon that! I say they knew that Mansoul belonged unto Shaddai; for they were there when he built it, and beautified it for himself.

So when they had found the place, they shouted horribly for joy, and roared on it as a lion upon the prey, saying, Now we have found the prize, and how to be revenged on King Shaddai for what he hath done to us. So they sat down, and called a council of war, and considered with themselves what ways and methods they had best to engage in, for the winning of this famous town of Mansoul; and these four things were then propounded to be considered of. First. Whether they had best all of them, to show themselves in this design to the town of Mansoul. Second. Whether they had best go and sit down against Mansoul, in their now ragged and beggarly guise. Third. Whether they had best show to Mansoul their intentions, and what design they came about, or assault it with words and ways of deceit. Fourth. Whether they had not best, to some of their companions, to give out private orders to take the advantage, if they see one or more of the principal townsmen, to shoot them; if thereby they shall judge their cause and design will be better promoted.

First. It was answered to the first of these proposals in the negative, to wit, that it would not be best that all should show themselves before the town, because the appearance of many of them might alarm and frighten the town; whereas a few, or but one of them, was not so likely to do it. And to enforce this advice to take place, it was added further, that if Mansoul was frighted, or did take the alarm, it is impossible, said Diabolus—for he spake now—that we should take the town; for that none can enter into it without its own consent. Let therefore but few or but one assault Mansoul, and in mine opinion, said Diabolus, let me be he. Wherefore to this they all agreed, and then to the second proposal they came, namely,

Second. Whether they had best go and sit down before Mansoul in their now ragged and beggarly guise. To which it was answered also in the negative, By no means; and that because though the town of Mansoul had been made to know and to have to do, before now, with things that are invisible, they did never as yet see any of their fellow-creatures in so sad and rascal condition as they. And this was the advice of that fierce Alecto. Then said Apollyon, the advice is pertinent, for even one of us appearing to them as we are now, must needs both beget and multiply such thoughts in them as will both put them into a consternation of spirit, and necessitate them to put themselves upon their guard. And if so, said he, then, as my Lord Alecto said but now, it is in vain for us to think of taking the town. Then said that mighty giant Beelzebub, the advice that already is given is safe; for though the men of Mansoul have seen such things as we once were, yet hitherto they did never behold such things as we now are.

And it is best, in my opinion, to come upon them in such a guise as is common to, and most familiar among them. To this, when they had consented, the next thing to be considered was, in what shape, hue, or guise, Diabolus had best to show himself when he went about to make Mansoul his own. Then one said one thing, and another the contrary; at last Lucifer answered, that in his opinion it was best that his lordship should assume the body of some of those creatures that they of the town had dominion over. For, quoth he, these are not only familiar to them, but being under them, they will never imagine that an attempt should by them be made upon the town; and, to blind all, let him assume the body of one of these beasts that Mansoul deems to be wiser than any of the rest (Gen 3:1; Rev 20:1,2). This advice was applauded by all; so it was determined that the giant Diabolus should assume the dragon, for that he was in those days as familiar with the town of Mansoul as now is the bird with the boy. For nothing that was in its primitive state was at all amazing to them. Then they proceeded to the third thing, which was,

Third. Whether they had best show their intentions or the design of his coming to Mansoul, or no. This also was answered in the negative, because of the weight that was in the former reasons, to wit, for that Mansoul was a strong people, a strong people in a strong town, whose wall and gates were impregnable, to say nothing of their castle, nor can they by any means be won but by their own consent. Besides, said Legion,[ (for he gave answer to this), a discovery of our intentions may make them send to their King for aid, and if that be done, I know quickly what time of day it will be with us. Therefore, let us assault them in all pretended fairness, covering of our intentions with all manner of lies, flatteries, delusive words; feigning of things that never will be, and promising of that to them that they shall never find. This is the way to win Mansoul, and to make them, of themselves, to open their gates to us; yea, and to desire us too, to come in to them.

And the reason why I think that this project will do is that the people of Mansoul now are all simple and innocent; all honest and true; nor do they as yet know what it is to be assaulted with fraud, guile, and hypocrisy. They are strangers to lying and dissembling lips; wherefore we cannot, if thus we be disguised, by them at all be discerned; our lies shall go for true sayings, and our dissimulations for upright dealings. What we promise them, they will believe in us, especially if, in all our lies and feigned words, we pretend great love to them, and that our design is only their advantage and honor. Now there was not one bit of a reply against this; this went as current down as doth the water down a steep descent; wherefore they go to consider of the last proposal, which was,

Fourth. Whether they had not best give out orders to some of their company, to shoot someone or more of the principal of the townsmen, if they judge that their cause may be promoted thereby.

This was carried in the affirmative, and the man that was designed by this stratagem to be destroyed was one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called Captain Resistance. And a great man in Mansoul this Captain Resistance was; and a man that the giant Diabolus and his band more feared than they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides. Now, who should be the actor to do the murder? That was the next question, and they appointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, to do it.

They thus having ended their council of war, rose up, and essayed to do as they had determined. They marched towards Mansoul, but all in a manner invisible, save one, only one; nor did he approach the town in his own likeness, but under the shape and in the body of the dragon.

So they drew up and sat down before Ear-gate, for that was the place of hearing for all without the town, as Eye-gate was the place of perspection. So, as I said, he came up with his train to the gate, and laid his ambuscade for Captain Resistance within bow-shot of the town. This done, the giant ascended up close to the gate, and called to the town of Mansoul for audience. Nor took he any with him, but one All-pause, who was his orator in all difficult matters. Now, as I said, he, having come up to the gate, as the manner of those times was, sounded his trumpet for the audience. At which the chief of the town of Mansoul, such as my Lord Innocent, my Lord Will-be-will, my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, and Captain Resistance came down to the wall to see who was there, and what was the matter. And my Lord Will-be-will, when he had looked over and saw who stood at the gate, demanded what he was, wherefore he was come, and why he roused the town of Mansoul with so unusual a sound.

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1055

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sat, 30 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

[CONTENTS:—The original beauty and splendour of the town of Mansoul, while under the dominion of Shaddai—Its noble castle described—Its five gates—The perfection of its inhabitants—The origin of Diabolus—His pride and fall—Revenge meditated—A council of war held to deliberate on the best means of seducing the town of Mansoul—Diabolus marches to the town, and sits down before Eye-gate—His oration—Captain Resistance slain—My Lord Innocence killed—The town taken.]

In my travels, as I walked through many regions and countries, it was my chance to happen into that famous continent of Universe; a very large and spacious country it is. It lieth between the two poles, and just amidst the four points of the heavens. It is a place well-watered, and richly adorned with hills and valleys, bravely situate; and for the most part (at least where I was) very fruitful, also well peopled, and a very sweet air.

The people are not all of one complexion, nor yet of one language, mode, or way of religion; but differ as much as, it is said, do the planets themselves. Some are right, and some are wrong, even as it happeneth to be in lesser regions.

In this country, as I said, it was my lot to travel, and there travel I did; and that so long, even till I learned much of their mother-tongue, together with the customs and manners of them among whom I was. And to speak Truth, I was much delighted to see and hear many things which I saw and heard among them. Yea, I had (to be sure) even lived and died a native among them, so was I taken with them and their doings, had not my Master sent for me home to his house, there to do business for him, and to oversee business done.

Now, there is in this gallant country of Universe a fair and delicate town, a corporation called Mansoul. A town for its building so curious, for its situation so commodious, for its privileges so advantageous—I mean with reference to its original—that I may say of it, as was said before of the continent in which it is placed, There is not its equal under the whole heaven.

As to the situation of this town, it lieth just between the two worlds; and the first founder and builder of it, so far as by the best and most authentic records I can gather, was one Shaddai; and he built it for his own delight. He made it the mirror and glory of all that he made, even the top-piece, beyond anything else that he did in that country (Gen 1:26). Yea, so goodly a town was Mansoul when first built, that it is said by some, the gods, at the setting up thereof, came down to see it, and sang for joy. And as he made it goodly to behold, so also mighty to have dominion over all the country round about. Yea, all were commanded to acknowledge Mansoul for their metropolitan, all were enjoined to do homage to it. Aye, the town itself had positive commission and power from her King to demand service from all, and to subdue any who refused.

There was reared up in the midst of this town a most famous and stately palace. For strength, it might be called a castle; for pleasantness, a paradise; for largeness, a place so copious as to contain all the world (Eccl 3:11). This place the King Shaddai intended but for himself alone, and not another with him; partly because of his own delights, and partly because he would not that the terror of strangers should be upon the town. This place Shaddai also made a garrison of, but committed the keeping of it only to the men of the town.

The wall of the town was well built, yea, so fast and firm was it knit and compact together, that, had it not been for the townsmen themselves, they could not have been shaken or broken forever.

For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, that the walls could never be broken down, nor hurt, by the most mighty adverse potentate, unless the townsmen gave consent thereto.

This famous town of Mansoul had five gates, in at which to come, out at which to go, and these were made likewise answerable to the walls, to wit, impregnable, and such as could never be opened nor forced but by the will and leave of those within. The names of the gates were these: Ear-gate, Eye-gate, Mouth-gate, Nose-gate, and Feel-gate.

Other things there were that belonged to the town of Mansoul, which, if you add to these, will yet give further demonstration to all of the glory and strength of the place. It had always had a sufficiency of provision within its walls; it had the best, most wholesome, and excellent law that then was extant in the world. There was not a rascal, rogue, or traitorous person within its walls then. They were all true men, and fast joined together; and this, you know, is a great matter. And to all these, it had always—so long as it had the goodness to keep true to Shaddai the king—his countenance, his protection, and it was his delight, etc.

Well, upon a time, there was one Diabolus, a mighty giant, who made an assault upon this famous town of Mansoul, to take it, and make it his own habitation. This giant was king of the blacks or negroes, and a most raving prince he was. We will, if you please, first discourse of the original of this Diabolus, and then of his taking of this famous town of Mansoul.

This Diabolus is indeed a great and mighty prince, and yet both poor and beggarly. As to his original, he was at first one of the servants of King Shaddai, made, and taken, and put by him into most high and mighty place; yea, was put into such principalities as belonged to the best of his territories and dominions. This Diabolus was made son of the morning, and a brave place he had of it (Isa 14:12). It brought him much glory, and gave him much brightness, an income that might have contented his Luciferian heart, had it not been insatiable, and enlarged as hell itself.

Well, he sees himself thus exalted to greatness and honor, and raging in his mind for a higher state and degree, what doth he but begins to think with himself how he might be set up as Lord over all, and have the sole power under Shaddai! Now that did the King reserve for his Son, yea, and had already bestowed it upon him. Wherefore he first consults with himself what had best to be done, and then breaks his mind to some other of his companions, to whom they also agreed. So, in fine, they came to this issue, that they should make an attempt upon the King's Son to destroy him, that the inheritance might be theirs. Well, to be short, the treason, as I said, was concluded, the time appointed, the word given, the rebels rendezvoused, and the assault attempted. Now the King and his Son being ALL and always EYE, could not but discern all passages in his dominions; and he having always love for his Son as for himself, could not, at what he saw, but be greatly provoked and offended; wherefore, what does he, but takes them in the very nick; and, first trip that they made towards their design, convicts them of the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy that they had devised, and now attempted to put into practice; and casts them altogether out of all place of trust, benefit, honour, and preferment. This done, he banishes them from the court; turns them down into the horrible pits, as fast bound in chains, never more to expect the least favor from his hands, but to abide the judgment that he had appointed, and that for ever (2 Peter 2:4; Jude 6).

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1054

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Fri, 29 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

TO THE READER,

'I have used similitudes.'—Hosea 12:10.

'Tis strange to me that they who love to tell
Things done of old, yea, and that do excel
Their equals in historiology,
Speak not of Mansoul's wars, but let them lie
Dead, like old fables, or such worthless things,
That to the reader no advantage brings:
When men, let them make what they will their own,
Till they know this, they are to themselves unknown.
Of stories I well know there's divers sorts,
Some foreign, some domestic, and reports
Are thereof made, as fancy leads the writers;
By books, a man may guess at the inditers.

Some will again of that which never was,
Nor will be, feign, and that without a cause,
Such matters raise such mountains, tell such things
Of men, of laws, of countries, and of kings:
And in their story seems to be so sage,
And with such gravity clothe ev'ry page,
That though their frontispiece says all is vain,
Yet to their way disciples they obtain
But, readers, I have somewhat else to do,
Than with vain stories thus to trouble you;
What I say here, some men do know so well,
They can tell the story with tears and joy.
The town of Mansoul is well known to many,
Nor are her troubles doubted by any
That are acquainted with those histories
That Mansoul, and her wars, anatomize.

Then lend thine ear to what I do relate
Touching the town of Mansoul and her state,
How she was lost, taken captive, made a slave;
And how against him set, that should her save.
Yeah, in hostile ways, she did oppose
Her Lord, and with his enemy, did close.
For they are true; he that will them deny
Must needs the best of records vilify.
For my part, I (myself) was in the town,
Both when 'twas set up, and when pulling down,
I saw Diabolus in his possession,
And Mansoul is also under his oppression.
Yeah, I was there when she owned him for Lord,
And to him did submit with one accord.
When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine,
And wallowed in filth as doth a swine;
When she betook herself unto her arms,
Fought her Emmanuel, despis'd his charms,
Then I was there, and did rejoice to see
Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.

Let no man, then, count me a fable-maker,
Nor make my name or credit a partaker
Of their derision; whatever is here in view,
Of mine own knowledge, I dare say it is true.
I saw the prince's armed men come down,
By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town.
I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound,
And how his forces cover'd all the ground.
Yeah, how they set themselves in battle-ray,
I shall remember it to my dying day.
I saw the colors waving in the wind,
And they within to mischief how combin'd,
To ruin Mansoul, and to make away
Her primum mobile without delay.

I saw the mounts cast up against the town,
And how the slings were placed to beat it down.
I heard the stones fly whizzing by my ears,
What longer kept in mind than got in fears,
I heard them fall, and saw what work they made,
And how old Mors did cover with his shade
The face of Mansoul, and I heard her cry,
Woe worth the day, in dying I shall die!
I saw the battering rams and how they played,
To beat ope Ear-gate, and I was afraid
Not only Ear-gate, but the very town,
Would those battering rams be beaten down?

I saw the fights and heard the captains shout,
And each in battle saw who faced about;
I saw who were wounded, and who were slain;
And who, when dead, would come to life again.
I heard the cries of those that wounded were,
While others fought like men bereft of fear,
And while the cry, Kill, kill, was in mine ears,
The gutters ran, not so with blood as tears.
Indeed, the captains did not always fight,
But then they would molest us day and night;
Their cry, Up, fall on, let us take the town,
Kept us from sleeping, or from lying down.
I was there when the gates were broken open,
And saw how Mansoul then was stripped of hope.

I saw the captains march into the town,
How there they fought, and did their foes cut down.
I heard the prince bid Boanerges go
Up to the castle, and there seize his foe,
And saw him and his fellows bring him down
In chains of great contempt, quite through the town.
I saw Emmanuel when he possessed
His town of Mansoul, and how greatly blest
A town, his gallant town of Mansoul was,
When she received his pardon, she lived by his laws!

When the Diabolonians were caught,
When tried, and when to execution brought,
Then I was there; yea, I was standing by
When Mansoul did, the rebels crucify.
I also saw Mansoul clad all in white,
And heard her prince call her his heart's delight.
I saw him put upon her chains of gold,
And rings, and bracelets, goodly to behold.
What shall I say?—I heard the people's cries,
And saw the prince wipe tears from Mansoul's eyes.
I heard the groans and saw the joy of many:
Tell you of all, I neither will nor can.
But by what I say here, you well may see
That Mansoul's matchless wars be no fables.
Mansoul! The desire of both princes was,
One keeps his gain, would 't'other gain his loss;
Diabolus would cry, The town is mine;
Emmanuel would plead a right Divine
Unto his Mansoul; then to blows they go,
And Mansoul cries, These wars will undo me.

Mansoul! Her wars seemed endless in her eyes,
She's lost by one, becomes another's prize.
And he again that lost her last would swear,
Have her, I will, or her in pieces tear.
Mansoul, it was the very seat of war,
Wherefore her troubles were greater by far,
Than only where the noise of war is heard,
Or where the shaking of a sword is feared,
Or only where small skirmishes are fought,
Or where the fancy fighteth with a thought.
She saw the swords of fighting men made red,
And heard the cries of those with them wounded;
Must not her frights then be much more by far,
Than theirs that to such doings strangers are?
Or theirs that hear the beating of a drum,
But not made fly for fear of the house and home?
Mansoul not only heard the trumpet sound,
But saw her gallants gasping on the ground;
Wherefore, we must not think that she could rest
With them, whose greatest earnest is but jest:
Or where the blust'ring threat'ning of great wars
Do end in parleys, or in wording jars.

Mansoul, her mighty wars, they did portend
Her weal or woe, and that world without end;
Wherefore she must be more concerned than they
Whose fears begin and end the self-same day:
Or where none other harm doth come to him
That is engaged, but loss of life or limb,
As all must needs confess that now do dwell
In the universe, and can this story tell.
Count me not then with them that to amaze
The people set them on the stars to gaze,
Insinuating with much confidence,
That each of them is now the residence
Of some brave creatures; yea, a world they will
Have in each star, though it be past their skill
To make it manifest to any man,
That reason hath, or tell his fingers can.

But I have too long held thee in the porch,
And kept thee from the sunshine with a torch.
Well, now go forward, step within the door,
And there behold five hundred times more
Of all sorts of such inward rarities
As the mind will, and will feed the eyes
With those, which if a Christian, thou wilt see
Not small, but things of greatest moment be.
Nor do thou go to work without my key
(In mysteries men soon do lose their way),
And also turn it right if thou wouldst know
My riddle, and wouldst with my heifer plow.
It lies there in the window, fare thee well,
My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.

JO. BUNYAN

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1053

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Thu, 28 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

ABOUT THE EDITOR Part 4

'I have used similitudes.'—Hosea 12:10.

The storming of Leicester took place in the night and furnished Bunyan, who was an eyewitness, with a correct notion of raising the standard, beleaguering the city, and forcing the gates, and a lively view of the desolations he describes. Awful as is his account of the sacking of Mansoul, with its murders and desolations, yet it may prove to be a good description of the conduct of Prince Rupert and his cavaliers at the storming of Leicester. Strike out the name of Diabolus, and insert Rupert, and put Leicester instead of Mansoul, and the account of the brutal conduct of the Royal army will be found accurately described. Lord Clarendon, who wrote to gain the smiles of royalty, plainly tells us that, when Prince Rupert and the King took Leicester, 'The conquerors pursued their advantage with the usual license of rapine and plunder, and miserably sacked the whole town, without any distinction of persons and places. Churches and hospitals, as well as other houses, were made a prey to the enraged and greedy soldier, to the exceeding regret of the King.' Clarendon goes on to account for the exceeding regret of Charles: it was because many of his faithful friends had suffered in the confusion of this murderous scene of rapine and plunder.

In the 'Holy War,' Bunyan has not been, nor can he ever be, charged with copying from any author who preceded him. Erasmus, Gouge, and many other of our Reformers, Puritans, and Nonconformists commented upon the Christian's armor and weapons. Benjamin Keach, about the time that the 'Holy War' appeared, published his War with the Devil, or, the Young Man's Conflict with the Powers of Darkness. It is a series of admirable poetical dialogues on the corruption and vanity of youth, the horrible nature of sin, and the deplorable condition of fallen man, with the rule of conscience and of true conversion. It has nothing allegorical in it, but is replete with practical warnings and exhortations. No one had ever attempted, under the form of an allegory, to describe the internal conflict between the powers of darkness and of the mind in the renewed man; the introduction of evil thoughts and suggestions, their unnatural union with the affections, and the offspring of such union, under the name of Diabolonians, who, when Mansoul is watchful unto prayer, lurk in the walls; but when in a backsliding state, are tolerated and encouraged openly to walk the streets.

Some have supposed that there is a slight similarity between John Chrysostom's description of the battle between the hosts of hell and mankind and John Bunyan's 'Holy War.' It is not at all probable that Bunyan was acquainted with Chrysostom on the Priesthood, which was then locked up in the Greek language and has since been translated into English. Nor can we find any similarity between the work of the pious, apostolically descended tinker and that of the learned Greek father. Chrysostom's picture of the battle is contained in a letter to Basil, urging him to become a minister of the gospel.

It is in words to this effect:—'Pent up in this body, like a dungeon, we cannot discern the invisible powers. Could you behold the black army of the devil and his mad conflict, you would witness a great and arduous battle, in which there is no brass or steel, no horses or wheeled chariots, no fire and arrows, but other instruments much more formidable. No breastplates, or shields, or swords, or darts. The very sight of this accursed host is alone sufficient to paralyze a soul which is not imbued with courage furnished by God, and with even greater foresight than valor. Could you calmly survey all this array and war, you would see, not torrents of blood or dead bodies, but fallen souls! You would see wounds so grievous that human war, with all its horrors, is mere child's play or idle pastime, in comparison to the sight of so many souls struck down every day by Satan.' Thus, this learned Greek father eloquently represents the great battle between Satan and his hosts and all mankind. But for a description of the internal conflict, Diabolus and his army of Doubters and Bloodmen arrayed against the powers of Mansoul, Bunyan stands alone and most beautifully resplendent.

In this war, there is no combination of souls to resist Satan, nor can any human powers in any way assist us in the trying battle. Here, O my reader, you and I must stand alone, far from the aid of our fellow men. We must call upon all the resources of our minds, and while there is unity within, no resisting or treason—while the Holy Spirit strengthens and inclines the will, the understanding, the conscience, the affections, and all our powers are united to resist Satan, God fights for us, and the heart is safe under the gracious smiles of our Emmanuel. May we never forget that our spiritual life is totally dependent upon him, in whom, as to the body, we live, and move, and have our being. But when doubts enfeeble us, and Bloodmen harass us, there is no help from man. No pope, cardinal, archbishop, minister, or any human power can aid us; ALL our hope is in God alone; every effort for deliverance must be by fervent prayer and supplication, from the heart and conscience, directly to God. Our petitions must be framed by the Holy Ghost and presented unto Shaddai, not by priest or prelate, but by our Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, the only intercessor and mediator.

The attentive reader of Bunyan's works will notice the difference between the trial of Faithful in the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and that of the prisoners brought to the bar as traitors in the 'Holy War.' The judge and jury are particularly overbearing to Faithful, much more so than to the Diabolonians. Still, there is one very strong feature in which they all agree. The prisoners are all brought to their trial, not that their guilt or innocence might be proved, but in order to their condemnation and execution. All are brought up in chains, a custom which then was very prevalent, if not universal, but which is now only read of as a cruel practice of a bygone age.

There are a few riddles or questions arising out of this narrative, the solving of which may afford instructive amusement to the reader. What is meant by the drum of Diabolus, which so terrified Mansoul? Refer to Galatians 3:10; Hebrews 6:4-8; 1 John 5:16; Hebrews 12:29. Why were the troops numbered at forty thousand, that came up to alarm and convince Mansoul of sin, or righteousness, and of judgment, while Emmanuel's army is not numbered? See Joshua 4:13; Hebrews 12:22. When the Doubters are slain or driven from Mansoul, after her conversion, they go straggling up and down the country enslaving the barbarous people (the margin informs us that the unbeliever never fights the Doubters). Why do they go by fives, nines, and seventeens? Do these odd numbers refer to the nine companies of Doubters, and eight of Bloodmen, who were under the command of five fallen angels—Diabolus, Beelzebub, Lucifer, Legion, and Apollyon? Fearful odds against a poor fallen sinner, five evil spirits, or nine classes of doubts, or these nine doubts united to eight kinds of Bloodmen or persecutors.

In a work so highly allegorical and founded upon a plain narrative of facts in the experience of the author, the editor deemed it needful to add numerous notes. These contain all that appeared to be explanatory or illustrative in other commentaries, with many that are original; obsolete terms and customs are explained; references are given to about fifty passages in the 'Grace Abounding,' that the reader's attention may be constantly directed to the solemn truths which are displayed under this delightful allegory. The editor has the consolation of hoping that the result of great labor can do no injury. Those whose deep experience in the spiritual warfare enables them to understand and enjoy the allegory can pass them by; while many of the poor but immortal souls engaged in this warfare, who are not deeply experienced, may receive aid and encouragement to persevere until they shall exclaim, The battle is fought, the victory is won, eternal praises to the great and gracious Emmanuel.

Reader, I must not detain you much longer from the pleasure of entering upon a narrative so deeply interesting to all who possess the understanding heart—an allegory, believed by very many to be the most beautiful and extraordinary that mere human genius ever composed in any language. O consider the worth of an immortal soul! God sent his servants, Moses and the prophets, with their slings and battering-rams, their great and precious promises to the early prophets, who have faithfully handed them down to us; and then came Emmanuel and his heavenly army, and all this to conquer Mansoul! Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sin.

The blood of bulls and of goats cannot wash out our stains. We must be found in Christ as part of his mystical body, and thus in perfection obey the Divine law, and then, through the sin-atoning offering of Emmanuel, God's equal, eternal Son, a fountain is opened for sin and uncleanness, in which our souls, being purified, shall be clothed with the garment of salvation. Who can calculate the worth of his immortal soul, that God himself should pay so costly a price for its redemption! May the desire of every reader be, O that my soul may be engaged in this holy war, my ears be alarmed by the infernal drum of Diabolus, that my Heart-castle may receive the King of salvation, and Christ be found there the hope of glory. Then may we feel the stern necessity of incessant watchfulness and prayer against carnal security, or any other cause of backsliding, with its consequent miseries.

Well may the world wonder how a poor traveling tinker could gain the extraordinary knowledge, which enabled him to become the greatest allegorical writer that the world ever saw. The reason is obvious: he lived and moved and had his being in the atmosphere of God's revealed will. It was this that enabled him to take the wings of the morning, and fly not only to the uttermost parts of the visible but of the invisible world; to enjoy scenes of light and glory, such as Gabriel contemplated when he came from heaven to Nazareth, and revealed to Mary her high destiny—that her Son should be the promised Saviour, who should bear the government of the universe upon his shoulders—whose name was Wonderful—Counsellor—the Mighty God—the everlasting Father—the Prince of Peace—Emmanuel, God with us.

Bunyan's industry and application must have been intense; he could not by possibility for a single moment say, 'soul take thine ease,' inglorious, destructive ease. His hands had to labor for his bread, and to provide for a most exemplary wife and four children, one of them blind. There was no hour of his life when he could have said to his soul, Let all thy noble powers be absorbed in eating, drinking, being merry—mere animal gratifications. The Holy War, the solemn results depending upon it, salvation or eternal ruin, the strong desire to glorify Emmanuel, the necessity to labor for his household—that blessed industry left him no opportunity for weaving a web of unmeaning casuistic subtilties, in which to entangle and engulf his soul, like a Puseyite or a German Rationalist. The thunders and lightnings of Sinai had burnt up all this wood, hay, and stubble, and with child-like simplicity, he depended upon the Holy Spirit, while drawing all his consolations and all his spiritual supplies from the sacred Scriptures.

Bunyan's narrative of the Holy War, from its commencement in the fall of man to that splendid address of Emmanuel with which it concludes, has been the study of the Editor for more than forty years, and he hopes that no future year of the residue of his life will be spent without reading this solemn, soul-stirring, delightful narrative.

GEO. OFFOR. Hackney, April 1851

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1052

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Wed, 27 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

ABOUT THE EDITOR Part 3

'I have used similitudes.'—Hosea 12:10.

The heart at first trembles lest punishment should be justly poured out upon her for treason, but it becomes the throne of its lawful King; and instead of God's anger, his pardon and blessings are proclaimed, and Mansoul is filled with joy, happiness, and glory.

Reader, can you call to mind the peace and holy enjoyment which took possession of your soul, when—having passed through the fears and hopes, the terrors and alarms, of the new birth—you sat down, for the first time, at the table of the Lord, to celebrate the wonders of his grace? Then you rejoiced in hope full of immortality; then you could exclaim, 'O tidings! Glad tidings! good tidings of good, and of great joy to my soul!' 'Then they leaped and skipped upon the walls for joy, and shouted, Let Emmanuel live for ever!' And then you fondly thought that happiness was secure for the rest of your pilgrimage, until your glorified spirit should enter into the celestial city.

Alas! your enemies were not dead. They insidiously seized an unguarded moment. Remiss in watchfulness and formal in prayer, carnal security invades the mind. Your ardent love is cooled—intercourse with heaven is slight—and by slow degrees, and almost unperceived, Emmanuel leaves Heart-castle; and the prince of the power of the air promotes the treason, and foments rebellion, by the introduction of loose thoughts, under the name of harmless mirth. The news soon reached Diabolus, and an infernal conference, or dialogue of devils, is revealed by our author, who had watched the course and causes of spiritual declension, and was not 'ignorant of Satan's devices.'

The malignant craft and subtlety displayed in Satan's counsel are described in a manner far beyond an ordinary imagination. They display the almost unbounded resources of genius and invention so richly possessed by the prince of allegorists, John Bunyan. It reminds us of the dialogue between Lucifer and Beelzebub, in that rare work by Barnardine Ochine, a reformer, published in 1549, called A Tragedy or Dialogue of the unjust usurped Primacy of the Bishop of Rome. This is represented, in very popular language, by the designs of Lucifer to ruin Christianity by the establishment of Popery. Lucifer thus addresses his diabolical conclave—' I have devised to make a certain new kingdom, replenished with idolatry, superstition, ignorance, error, falsehoods, deceit, compulsion, extortion, treason, contention, discord, tyranny, and cruelty; with spoiling, murder, ambition, filthiness, injuries, factions, sects, wickedness, and mischief; in the which kingdom all kinds of abomination shall be committed. And notwithstanding that it shall be heaped up with all kinds of wickedness, yet shall the [professed] Christian men think it to be a spiritual kingdom, most holy and most godly.

The supreme head of this kingdom shall be a man who is not only sinful and an abominable robber and thief, but he shall be sin and abomination itself; and yet, for all that, shall be thought of Christian men a God in earth, and his members, being most wicked, shall be called of men most holy. God sent his Son into the world, who, for the salvation of mankind, hath humbled himself even to the death of the cross. I will send my son into the world, who, for the destruction and condemnation of mankind, shall so advance himself that he shall take upon him to be made equal with God.' 'I will, by craft and diligence, shadow and cover superstition and idolatry with a fair face, and beauty of holy ceremonies, that men shall be made so drunken and so amazed with this outward pomp and show, that they shall not be able to discern truth from falsehood, when they be drowned in the flood of idolatry and superstition.' 'I will cause them to be the most cruel tyrants and butchers of Christ and his members, under a pretense of zeal to the house of God. They shall hide their uncleanness and filthy behavior with an exceeding wide cloak of hypocrisy, and with glorious shining titles.'

Thus, this intrepid reformer opened up the origin, the development, the desolations of Popery; and, with a similar knowledge of Satan's devices, the Nonconformist Bunyan shows the means by which Diabolus urges the young Christian into a backsliding state. 'Let our Diabolonian friends in Mansoul draw it into sin, for there is nothing like sin to devour Mansoul; while we will send against it an army of twenty or thirty thousand sturdy, terrible doubters. Sin renders Mansoul sick and faint, while doubts are by it made fierce and strong.' At length, Diabolus and his army of doubts march from Hellgate Hill to Mansoul: the order in which they are placed, and the names of the officers, are very instructive, as well as curious. Election-doubters, under Captain Rage—Vocation-doubters, commanded by Captain Fury—Grace-doubters, led by Captain Damnation—Faith-doubters, under Captain Brimstone—Resurrection-doubters, by Captain Torment—Salvation-doubters, under Captain Noease—Glory-doubters, commanded by Captain Sepulcher—Felicity-doubters, led by Captain Pasthope. Incredulity was Lord-general, and Diabolus was King and Commander-in-chief. The roaring of the drum—their alarming outcries, Hell-fire! Hell-fire!—their furious assaults—the multitude of doubts—and the perplexity of poor, distracted Mansoul, are admirably and truly narrated. The town makes a sortie in the night, but Diabolus and his legions, experienced in night work, drive them back, and severely wound Captains Faith, Hope, and Experience.

Again, the gates are assaulted, and Diabolus and his doubters gain an entrance, by the senses, into the town, but cannot force the heart; and Mansoul is reduced to the greatest straits and sadness. In this extremity, prayers are incessantly offered up to Emmanuel, but, for a long time, they can obtain no satisfactory answers. Both parties are on the alert, but Diabolus finds it impossible, either by treachery or by storming with his legion of doubts, to gain possession of Heart-castle. Being worsted in a general engagement, the doubters are slain, and are buried with their armor; yea, all that did but smell of a Diabolonian Doubter. The arch-fiend now enters upon a new mode of assault—he sends for a reinforcement, to try the effect of persecution; and obtains an army of fifteen thousand Bloodmen, from the province of Loathgood. To these were added ten thousand new Doubters, under their commander, old Incredulity. These Bloodmen were 'rugged villains, and had done feats heretofore'; they were mastiffs, and would fasten upon father, mother, brother, yea, upon the Prince of princes. Among their officers is Captain Pope, whose colors were the stake, the flame, and the good man in it.' To these I would humbly suggest the propriety of adding one more—it is Captain State-religion, upon whose standard should be represented the Nonconformist John Bunyan in a damp, dreary dungeon, writing his 'Pilgrim's Progress,' with his poor blind child at his feet.

O persecutor, whether you burn or imprison a Nonconformist, or harass him in Ecclesiastical courts, or seize his goods to support forms or ceremonies which he believes to be Antichristian, your commander is old Incredulity—your king is Diabolus! The Bloodmen send a summons to Mansoul, 'as hot as a red-hot iron,' threatening fire and sword, and utter destruction; but the God who visited our pious author in prison, and cherished and comforted him in his twelve years' sufferings under persecution, came to the relief of Mansoul. The Diabolonian army is routed—the Doubters are slain, excepting a few who escaped—the Bloodmen or persecutors were not to be slain, but to be taken alive. The prisoners are brought to trial, with all the forms and solemnities of law, and the narrative concludes with a most admirable charge from Emmanuel to keep Mansoul in the most prayerful vigilance. Enemies still lurk within, to keep her humble; that she may feel her dependence upon God, and be found much in communion with him. 'Believe that my love,' says Emmanuel, 'is constant to thee. Watch, hold fast, till I come.'

In the whole detail of this war, a very singular skill is manifested. A keen observer of all that passed before him, aided by a most retentive memory and a fertile imagination, enabled our pilgrim forefather to gain much knowledge in a short time. He had been engaged, as a private soldier, in the Civil War and was at the siege of Leicester when it was taken by Prince Rupert. This gave him a knowledge of the meaning of trumpet or bugle sounds; so that, when the trumpeters made their best music, in the expectation of Emmanuel's speedy assistance to help Mansoul, Diabolus exclaims, 'What do these madmen mean? they neither sound to boot and saddle, nor horse and away, nor a charge.'

Bunyan had been released from his tedious and cruel imprisonment for conscience's sake about ten years, when he published the 'Holy War.' In this interval of time, although laboring incessantly to win souls to Christ, being a very popular preacher, yet he must have found time to gratify his incessant thirst for knowledge; gaining that he might communicate, and in imparting it, receiving into his own mind a rich increase. This would doubtless lead him to read the best of our Puritan and Nonconformists' works, so that we find him using the Latin words primum mobile, carefully noting in the margin that he meant 'the soul'; and from hence he must have scraped acquaintance with Python, Cerberus, and the furies of mythology, whom he uses in this war, describing accurately their names and qualities.

At first sight, it may seem strange that the armies, both within and without the city, should be so numerous, as it is but one man who is the object of attack and defense, one human body, containing one immortal Mansoul; but if the reader reflects that every soldier represents a thought, who can number them? At one time, by the sin-sickness, eleven thousand men, women, and children died in Mansoul! This is interpreted by Bunyan to mean that the men represented 'good thoughts'—the women, 'good conceptions'—and the children, 'good desires.' The town is assaulted by thirty or forty thousand doubts, very curiously and methodically arranged.

The value of the marginal notes is very great, throwing immediate light upon many difficult passages. Every reader should make free use of the key which lieth in the window [the margin]. The value of this key is seen in a few quotations. Thus, when Diabolus beat a charge against the town, my Lord Reason was wounded in the head—the brave Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, in the eye—and 'many also of the inferior sort were not only wounded, but slain outright.' The margin explains this as meaning 'Hopeful thoughts.' When the enemy broke into the town at Feelgate, during a night of terror, and got possession, it is described as being accompanied by all the horrors of war—by atrocities probably even greater than those perpetrated by Rupert's cavaliers at Leicester. 'Young children were dashed in pieces, yea, those unborn were destroyed.' 'The women were beastly abused.' This is interpreted by two marginal notes—'Good and tender thoughts,' 'Holy conceptions of good.'

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1051

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Tue, 26 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

ABOUT THE EDITOR Part 2

'I have used similitudes.'—Hosea 12:10.

A remarkable verse describes his state before conversion—

'When Mansoul trampled upon things divine,
And wallowed in filth as doth a swine;
When she betook herself unto her arms,
Fought her Emmanuel, despis'd his charms,
Then I was there, and did rejoice to see
Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.'

Some editor, imagining that Bunyan could never have so rejoiced, forgetting his own words in the fourth section of his 'Grace Abounding'—' It was my delight to be taken captive by the devil, at his will'—altered these words to—

'Then I was there, and grieved to see
Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.'

This alteration, which perverts the author's meaning, appears in a London edition of 1752 and has been copied into many modern editions, including those by Mason and Burder.

The author, having in the above lines described his unconverted state, goes on to delineate his convictions in these words:—

'What is here in view,
Of mine own knowledge, I dare say it is true.
I saw the Prince's armed men come down,
I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound;
Yeah, how they set themselves in battle-ray,
I shall remember to my dying day.'

The whole of this address is descriptive of what the author saw, felt, or heard—

'What shall I say? I heard the people's cries,
And saw the Prince wipe tears from Mansoul's eyes;
I heard the groans and saw the joy of many,
Tell you of all, I neither will, nor can I;
But by what I say here, you well may see
That Mansoul's matchless wars no fables be.'

The narrative of this eventful war is authenticated by his personal feelings while under the chastising, correcting hand of his heavenly Father; in his new birth and subsequent experience; in bringing his soul from darkness to marvelous light, and from the wretched bondage of sin to the glorious liberty of the gospel. This address is closed with a very important notice, which all our readers should keep constantly in mind—it is to attend to the author's key to the allegory, and that is his marginal notes—

'Nor do thou go to work without my key,
(In mysteries men soon do lose their way),
And also turn it right, if thou would'st know
My riddle, and would'st with my heifer plow,
It lies there in the window, fare thee well,
My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.'

The last line strongly reminds us of the author's difficulty in quitting the gin and beer-drinking practice of bell-ringing, to which in his youth he was so much addicted. It is recorded in his 'Grace Abounding,' Nos. 33 and 34.

The form and order of the narrative is exceedingly beautiful, and deeply interesting to those who have been engaged in a similar warfare. Passing over the short and vivid narration of the fall of man, our personal feelings are excited by witnessing the methods of grace, adapted by a covenant-keeping God and Father, to rescue his people from their natural state of Diabolonian slavery. Many of the incidents will bring to the enlightened reader's recollection the solemn and powerful impressions under which he struggled when opposing the invitations of Emmanuel. His holy joy, when a sense of pardoning love and mercy came over his soul; and his anxieties, when in conflict with doubts, fears, and bloodmen.

Our young readers must be cautioned not to give way to doubts and fears for their souls' safety, because they have never passed through the same feelings that fitted Bunyan for a sphere of extraordinary usefulness. God brings his lambs and sheep into the fold by such means as are agreeable to his infinite wisdom and grace. Some surrender at the first summons; others hold out during a long and distressing siege. 'God's ways are not our ways.' All our anxious inquiries should be, Is Emmanuel in Heart-castle? Has he formed in me the hope of glory? Do I live and believe in him who has immutably decreed that 'whosoever'—be he rich or poor, learned or unlearned—if he 'liveth and believeth in me, shall never die?' It matters not, as to my salvation, whether the siege was long or short. The vital question is, has my heart been conquered? Do I love Emmanuel?

If I do, it is because he first loved me, and he changeth not. In proportion to the trouble that I gave to my Conqueror, so should be my zealous, holy, happy obedience to his commands. Much is expected from those to whom much has been forgiven. The Conqueror, by his victory, fits us for those peculiar duties to which he intends to devote us in extending his kingdom. In the history of this war, the reader's attention will be naturally arrested by the fact that Mansoul, having voluntarily surrendered to the dominion of Satan, made no effort to relieve herself. No spiritual feelings lurked in the walls to disturb the reign of Diabolus; not even a prayer or a sigh breaks forth from her heart for deliverance; she felt not her degradation nor her danger; she was dead while she yet lived—dead in sin; and from this state would have sunk, as thousands have, from spiritual and temporal death into eternal and irretrievable ruin. The first conception of a scheme for her deliverance from such awful danger arises in the celestial court of her Creator; grace lays the foundation and raises the top-stone. All the redeemed of God will unite in one song, 'Not unto us, O Lord; not unto us, but unto thy name give glory.'

A covenant is made, ordered in all things and sure, to save Mansoul; and from this emanates the vast, the costly design of her deliverance. To effect this great object, the Mosaic dispensation—the Law, with all its terrors, is sent, in fearful array, to conquer or destroy. This is allegorically represented under the similitude of an army of forty thousand warriors, 'stout, rough-hewn men, fit to break the ice, and make their way by dint of sword.' They are under the command of four captains, each with his ensign—Boanerges and Thunder, Conviction and Sorrow, Judgment and Terror, Execution and Justice.

To resist this force, Diabolus arms the town, hardens the conscience, and darkens the understanding. He places at Eargate a guard of DEAF MEN, under old Mr. Prejudice, and plants over that important gate two great guns, Highmind and Heady. He arms Mansoul with the whole armor of Satan, which is very graphically described. Summons after summons is unheeded. The death of friends, sickness, and troubles pass by apparently without any good result. They 'will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely.' At length, the town is assaulted, conscience becomes alarmed, but the will remains stubborn. The beleaguering of the town—planting the ensigns—throwing up batteries—the slings casting, with irresistible force, portions of the Word into the mind—the battering-rams beating upon the gates, especially Eargate—exciting alarm under the fear of the just and awful punishment due to sin—all are described with an extraordinary knowledge of military terms and tactics.

The episode of the three volunteers who enlisted under Shaddai, into Captain Boanerges' company—Tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man 's-invention—is inimitably beautiful. When they were aught in the rear, and taken prisoners—' as they did not live so much by religion as by the fates of fortune'—they offer their services to Diabolus, and are joined to Captain Anything's company. After a few sharp assaults, convictions of sin alarm the conscience, and six of Diabolus' new Aldermen are slain with one shot. Their names are well worthy of an attentive consideration, showing what open vices are abandoned upon the soul being first terrified with the fear of retribution—Swearing, Whoring, Fury, Stand-to-lies, Drunkenness, and Cheating.

Alarms are continued by day and night, until it is said to Mansoul, 'Upon all her pleasant things there was a blast, and burning instead of beauty; with shows of the shadow of death.' Thus was it with David—'My soul is cast down within me: deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts; all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me' (Psa 42:6,7).

All the assaults of Moses and the Law are ineffectual; the gates remain closed against her King and God. The thunders of Sinai and the voice of the prophets may alarm, but cannot conquer Mansoul. The thundering, terrifying captains appeal to the celestial court, and Emmanuel—God with us—condescends to fight the battle and secure the victory. The angelic hosts desire to look into these things—they are the peers of the heavenly realm—the news flew like lightning round about the court—and the greatest peers did covet to have commissions under Emmanuel. The captains that accompany him in this grand expedition are Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience. Mansoul is to be won by persuasion to receive her Savior. The cost of the enterprise is vast indeed; the army is numerous as our thoughts, and who can number 'the multitude of his thoughts?' The battering rams and slings, we are told by the margin, mean the books of Sacred Scripture, sent to us by the influence of the Holy Ghost. Emmanuel is irresistible—Mansoul is taken—Diabolus is dragged out, stripped of his armor, and sent to the parched places in a salt land, 'seeking rest, but finding none.'

Works of John Bunyan: THE HOLY WAR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 1050

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Mon, 25 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

ABOUT THE EDITOR Part 1

'I have used similitudes.'—Hosea 12:10.

London: Printed for Dorman Newman, at the King's Arms in the Poultry; and Benjamin Alsop, at the Angel and Bible in the Poultry, 1682.

Bunyan's account of the Holy War is indeed an extraordinary book, manifesting a degree of genius, research, and spiritual knowledge, exceeding even that displayed in the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' To use the words of Mr. J. Montgomery, 'It is a work of that master intelligence, which was privileged to arouse kindred spirits from torpor and inactivity, to zeal, diligence, and success.'

It was first published in 1682 in a small octavo volume, and, like the first edition of the Pilgrim, it was printed in a manner far superior to all subsequent editions up to a recent period. The portrait of the author, by White, which faced the title-page, is without doubt the best likeness that has ever appeared of our great allegorist. In addition to this is a full-length figure of the author, with a representation of Heart-castle on his left breast; the town of Mansoul behind, partly seen through him; Emmanuel and his army on the heart side, and Diabolus with his dragons on his right. Since the publication of this popular book in 1682, it has been kept in print constantly, so that it is impossible to calculate the number that has been circulated. As time rolls on, the 'Holy War,' allegorized by John Bunyan, becomes more and more popular; nor can there be a doubt but that so long as the internal conflict and spiritual warfare between the renewed soul and its deadly enemies are maintained, this book will become increasingly popular.

The 'Holy War,' although so very extraordinary an allegory, has not been translated into so many languages, nor has it been so much read in English, as the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' This would naturally arise from the Pilgrimage's simpler narrative. It is a journey full of the most striking scenery and incidents, which is read with the deepest interest by all classes, from the children in a workhouse to the profoundest Christian philosopher. The facts which are intended to be impressed upon the mind by the force of the allegory are seen and appreciated by the Christian without requiring much investigation, while the 'Holy War' is carried on under an allegorical representation by no means so transparent. Man's soul is figured under the simile of a town, which, having surrendered to an insidious and mortal enemy, is besieged by its lawful Sovereign with all the 'pomp and circumstances' of war; the arch-enemy is driven out, the town retaken, new-modeled, and garrisoned by Emmanuel.

To the Christian, whose aim and end is peace, war presents a most forbidding aspect. He loves not to see the garments rolled in blood, nor to hear the dying groans of the wounded, nor the heart-rending cries of the bereaved, especially those of the widow and the orphan. Spoliation and robbery are not the pastimes of the child of God, nor is cruelty the element of his happiness or peace. To read of such scenes produces painfully interesting sensations; but even these are not so strong or intense as those delightful feelings which pervade the mind while watching the poor pilgrim in his struggles to get through the Slough of Despond, his terror under the flames of Mount Sinai, his passing unhurt the darts from Beelzebub's castle, and his finding refuge at the Wicket Gate. It is true, that the most delicate Christian must become a stern warrior—the most sensitive ear must be alarmed with the sound of Diabolus' drum, and at times feel those inward groanings which cannot be uttered—pass through 'the fiery trial,' and 'endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ'; while at other periods of his experience, flushed with victory, he will cry out, 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?'

We must fight the good fight of faith, or we can never lay hold on eternal life. We must be engaged in this holy war, and FIGHT or PERISH. There is no neutrality, no excuse that can be awaiting at the day of judgment. The servant of Christ is therefore found trusting in the Captain of salvation, furnished with the whole armor of God, with which his soul is clothed by the Holy Spirit—having the shield of faith, the helmet, the breastplate, the two-edged sword. It was being thus mysteriously, invulnerably armed that gave the delicate, learned, pious Lady Anne Askew strength to triumph over her agonies when the Papists disjointed every bone and sinew of her body on the rack. Her spiritual armor enabled her with patience to bless God at the stake, when, for refusing to worship Antichrist, she was burned in Smithfield, and her soul ascended to heaven in a flaming fiery chariot. It is the same spiritual armor, the same Captain to guide, the same Spirit to sanctify, the same Father to bless us, by which alone we can become more than conquerors over our vigilant and powerful enemies. The Holy War is presented to us in this volume by an old, experienced, faithful warrior; it is an allegorical narrative, written by a master hand, guided by deeply penetrating, searching powers of mind.

It is his own severe brunts with the great enemy, who is aided by his army of pomps, vanities, lusts, and allurements, many lurking within, disguised to appear like angels, while under their masquerade dress they are very devils. It is written by one who possessed almost boundless resources of imagination. It is more profound, more deeply spiritual than the pilgrimage from Destruction to the Celestial City, and understanding its hidden meaning requires the close, mature application of the renewed mind. There are, alas! comparatively few that are blessed with spiritual discernment, and even of these, there are but few inclined to mental investigation and research. These are reasons why it has not been so popular a book as the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' To aid those whose time for reading is limited, notes are given, by which obsolete words and customs are explained, and the reader is assisted to appreciate the beauties and to understand the meaning of this allegory. It is earnestly hoped that many will richly enjoy the comforts, instructions, consolations, and strength which the author ardently wished to convey to Zion's warriors, by the study of this important subject.

I have already, in my long Introduction to the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' noticed the peculiar genius and originality which are conspicuous in all Bunyan's works, and which most resplendently appear in his allegorical writings. That genius became hallowed and sanctified by prison discipline, by an intense study of the Sacred Scriptures, and by his controversies with great men of various sects and parties. In the 'Holy War, ' Bunyan's peculiar genius shines forth in its most beauteous luster; the whole is new, genuine, flowing forth from his own deep and rich experience. It is, in fact, the same narrative that he had published under the title of 'Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, or a brief and faithful relation of the exceeding mercy of God, in Christ, to his poor servant John Bunyan.'

This simple, heart-affecting narrative is here related under the allegorical representation of the 'Holy War.' In this, all the circumstances of his conviction of sin, and his conversion to God, are narrated with startling interest from the first alarm—his being roused from a state of death-like lethargy, his opposition to the grace of God, his refusals of the invitations of Emmanuel, and his being at length conquered to become a monument of divine mercy—a temple of the Holy Ghost. Then came his declension by carnal security, and his misery in that state, until he was finally reconquered; and his heart is permanently occupied by Emmanuel. The 'Grace Abounding,' aided by the marginal notes of the author to the 'Holy War,' forms a very valuable key to the mysteries of this allegory; without their aid, some passages would be found deeply mysterious and hard to be understood. Nor can this be considered extraordinary, when it is recollected that the whole of the allegory is a revelation of scenes, feelings, hopes, fears, and enjoyments, which are unknown, unfelt, and invisible to all except to those whose minds are enlightened by Divine truth; and even of these, very few have had the deep and trying experience with which the author was exercised.

That the 'Holy War' allegorically represents Bunyan's personal feelings is clearly declared by him in the poetical Introduction or Address to the Reader, prefixed to the book. He adverts to books of fiction, and solemnly declares—

'I have somewhat else to do,
Than with vain stories thus to trouble you,
For my part, I (myself) was in the town,
Both when 'twas set up, and when pulling down;
I saw Diabolus in his possession,—
Yeah, I was there when she owned him for Lord.'

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1049

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sun, 24 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

When the time came for them to depart, they went to the brink of the river. The last words of Mr. Despondency were, Farewell night, welcome day. His daughter went through the river singing, but none could understand what she said.

Then it came to pass, a while after, that there was a post in the town that inquired for Mr. Honest. So he came to his house where he was, and delivered to his hand these lines: Thou art commanded to be ready against this day sevennight, to present thyself before thy Lord, at His Father's house. And for a token that my message is true, 'All thy daughters of music shall he brought low' (Eccl. 12:4). Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me; let him that comes after be told of this. When the day that he was to be gone had come, he addressed himself to go over the river. Now the river at that time overflowed the banks in some places; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet him there, the which he also did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, Grace, reigns. So he left the world.

After this, it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a summons, by the same post as the other; and had this for a token that the summons was true, 'That his pitcher was broken at the fountain' (Eccl. 12:6). When he understood it, he called for his friends and told them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father's; and though with great difficulty I have got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought His battles, who now will be my Rewarder. When the day that he must go hence had come, many accompanied him to the riverside, into which, as he went, he said, 'Death, where is thy sting?' And as he went down deeper, he said, 'Grave, where is thy victory?' So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Stand-fast—this Mr. Stand-fast was he that the rest of the Pilgrims found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground—for the post brought it him open in his hands. The contents whereof were that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from Him any longer. At this, Mr. Stand-fast was put into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you need not doubt of the truth of my message, for here is a token of the truth thereof: 'Thy wheel is broken at the cistern' (Eccl. 12:6). Then he called unto him Mr. Great-heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company in the days of my pilgrimage; yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I left behind me a wife and five small children; let me entreat you, at your return (for I know that you will go, and return to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a conductor to more of the holy pilgrims), that you send to my family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath, or shall happen unto me. Tell them, moreover, of my happy arrival at this place, and of the present and late blessed condition that I am in. Tell them also of Christian, and Christiana, his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whether she is gone. I have a little or nothing to send to my family, except it be prayers and tears for them; of which it will suffice if thou acquaint them, if peradventure they may prevail.

When Mr. Stand-fast had thus set things in order, and the time being come for him to hasten him away, he also went down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time in the river; wherefore Mr. Stand-fast, when he was about half-way in, stood a while and talked to his companions that had waited upon him thither; and he said, This river has been a terror to many; yea, the thoughts of it also have often frightened me. Now, methinks, I stand easy, my foot is fixed upon that upon which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, while Israel went over this Jordan (Josh. 3:17). The waters, indeed, are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie as a glowing coal at my heart.

I see myself now at the end of my journey; my toilsome days are ended. I am going now to see that Head that was crowned with thorns, and that Face that was spit upon for me.

I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith, but now I go where I shall live by sight and shall be with Him in whose company I delight myself.

I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the print of His shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too.

His name has been to me as a civet-box; yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet, and His countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His Word I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. 'He has held me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my steps hath He strengthened in His way.'

Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance changed, his strong man bowed under him; and after he had said, Take me, for I come unto Thee, he ceased to be seen of them.

But glorious it was to see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city.

As for Christian's children, the four boys that Christiana brought with her, with their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I came away, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the CHURCH in that place where they were, for a time.

Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account of what I here am silent about. In the meantime, I bid my reader ADIEU.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1048

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sat, 23 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Then came in that good man, Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see her. So she said to him, Thy travel hither has been with difficulty; but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready, for at an hour when you think not, the messenger may come. After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, to whom she said, You ought with thankfulness, forever to remember your deliverance from the hands of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. The effect of that mercy is that you are brought with safety hither. Be ye watchful, and cast away fear; 'be sober and hope to the end.'

Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay-good, that thou mightest live in the light of the living forever, and see thy King with comfort; only I advise thee to repent thee of thine aptness to fear and doubt of His goodness, before He sends for thee; lest thou shouldest, when He comes, be forced to stand before Him, for that fault, with blushing. Now the day drew on, that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But, behold, all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots, which had come down from above to accompany her to the city gate. So she came forth and entered the river, with a beckon of farewell to those that followed her to the riverside. The last words that she was heard to say here were, I come, Lord, to be with Thee, and bless Thee.

So her children and friends returned to their place, for those who waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had done before her.

At her departure, her children wept. But Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well-tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places.

In the process of time, there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired him out, and said to him, I am come to thee in the name of Him whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches; and my message is to tell thee, that He expects thee at His table to sup with Him, in His kingdom, the next day after Easter; wherefore prepare thyself for this journey.

Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord (Eccl. 12:6).

After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow-pilgrims and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his will; and because he had nothing to bequeath to them that should survive him, but his crutches, and his good wishes, therefore thus he said, These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my steps, with a hundred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have done. Then he thanked Mr. Greatheart for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed himself to his journey. When he came to the brink of the river, he said, Now I shall have no more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and horses for me to ride on. The last words he was heard to say were, Welcome life! So he went his way.

After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him that the post sounded his horn at his chamber door. Then he came in, and told him, saying, I am come to tell thee, that thy Master hath need of thee; and that, in very little time, thou must behold His face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of my message, 'Those that look out of the windows shall be darkened' (Eccl. 12:3).

Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the message. Then he said, Since I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose should I make a will As for my feeble mind, that I will leave behind me, for that I have no need of that in the place whither I go. Nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrim; wherefore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a dunghill. This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest. His last words were, Hold out, faith and patience. So he went over to the other side.

When many days had many of them passed away, Mr. Despondency was sent for; for a post had come, and brought this message to him: Trembling man, these are to summon thee to be ready with thy King by the next Lord's Day, to shout for joy for thy deliverance from all thy doubtings.

And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take this for a proof; so he gave him the grasshopper to be a burden unto him (Eccl. 12:5). Now, Mr. Despondency's daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, when she heard what was done, that she would go with her father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends, "Myself and my daughter, you know what we have been, and how troublefully we have behaved ourselves in every company." My will and my daughter's is, that our desponds and slavish fears be by no man ever received, from the day of our departure, forever; for I know that after my death they will offer themselves to others. For, to be plain with you, they are ghosts which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after; and they will walk about and seek entertainment of the pilgrims; but, for our sakes, shut ye the doors upon them.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1047

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Fri, 22 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

At this discourse, there was, among the Pilgrims, a mixture of joy and trembling; but at length they broke out, and sang—

What danger is the pilgrim in?
How many are his foes!
How many ways are there to sin
No living mortal knows.
Some of the ditch shy are, yet can
Lie tumbling in the mire;
Some, though they shun the frying-pan,
Do leap into the fire.

After this, I beheld until they came unto the Land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves a while to rest; and, because this country was common for pilgrims, and because the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the Celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of His things. But a little while soon refreshed them here; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sounded so melodiously, that they could not sleep; and yet they received as much refreshing as if they had slept their sleep ever so soundly. Here also, all the noise of them that walked in the streets was, More pilgrims have come to town. And another would answer, saying, And so many went over the water, and were let in at the golden gates today. They would cry again. There is now a legion of Shining Ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road; for here they come to wait for them, and to comfort them after all their sorrow. Then the Pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro; but how were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with celestial visions! In this land, they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing that was offensive to their stomach or mind; only when they tasted the water of the river over which they were to go, they thought that it tasted a little bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was down.

In this place, there was a record kept of the names of those who had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was also here that much discourse was held about how the river had its flowings, and what ebbings it has had, while others have gone over. It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks for others.

In this place, the children of the town would go into the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the Pilgrims, and bring them to them with much affection. Here also grew camphire, with spikenard, and saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all its trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these, the Pilgrims' chambers were perfumed, while they stayed here; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river when the time appointed was come.

Now, while they lay here and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the town that a post had come from the Celestial City, with matter of great importance to one Christiana, the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was; so the post presented her with a letter; the contents whereof were, 'Hail, good woman! I bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldest stand in His presence, in clothes of immortality, within these ten days.'

When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger and had come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was an arrow with a point sharpened with love, let easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought so effectually with her, that at the time appointed she must be gone.

When Christiana saw that her time had come and that she was the first of this company to go over, she called for Mr. Greatheart, her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. Then she bade that he advise on how all things should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying, thus and thus it must be; and we that survive will accompany you to the riverside.

Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them that she yet read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and her daughters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, and said unto him, Sir, you have in all places showed yourself truehearted; 'be faithful unto death,' and my King will give you 'a crown of life.' I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children, and if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfillment of the promise upon them will be their end. But she gave Mr. Stand-fast a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, 'Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.' Then said he, I wish you a fair day, when you set out for Mount Zion, and shall be glad to see that you go over the river dry-shod. But she answered, Come wet, come dry, I long to be gone; for, however the weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I come there to sit down and rest me, and dry me.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1046

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Thu, 21 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, till they came to where there was another arbor, and it was built by the highway-side. And in that arbor there lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage; but here, being wearied with their journey, they sat down to rest themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the Pilgrims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads; for they knew that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do, whether to go on and leave them in their sleep, or to step to them, and try to awake them. So they concluded to go to them, and awake them; that is, if they could; but with this caution, namely, to take heed that themselves did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbor.

So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each by his name, for the guide, it seems, did know them; but there was no voice nor answer. Then the guide shook them and did what he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, I will pay you when I take my money. At which the guide shook his head. I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said the other. At that, one of the children laughed.

Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this? The guide said, They talk in their sleep. If you strike them, beat them, or whatever else you do to them, they will answer you after this fashion; or, as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of a ship, 'When shall I awake? I will seek it yet again' (Prov. 23:34, 35). You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say anything, but their words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in their words now, as there was before, betwixt their going on pilgrimage, and sitting down here. This, then, is the mischief of it: when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, it is twenty to one, but they are served thus; for this Enchanted Ground is one of the last refuges that the enemy to pilgrims has. Wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and so it standeth against us with the more advantage. For when, thinks the enemy, will these fools be so desirous to sit down, as when they are weary? and when so like to be weary, as when almost at their journey's end? Therefore, it is, I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the Land Beulah, and so near the end of their race. Wherefore, let pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them as it has done to these, that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can wake them.

Then the Pilgrims desired, with trembling, to go forward; only they prayed their guide to strike a light, that they might go the rest of their way by the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great (2 Peter 1:19).

But the children began to be sorely weary, and they cried out unto Him that loveth pilgrims, to make their way more comfortable. So by that time they had gone a little further, and a wind arose that drove away the fog, making the air clearer.

Yet they were not off, by much, of the Enchanted Ground, only now they could see one another better, and the way wherein they should walk.

Now, when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived that, a little before them, was a solemn noise of one who was much concerned. So they went on and looked before them; and behold, they saw, as they thought, a man upon his knees, with hands and eyes lifted up, and speaking, as they thought, earnestly to One that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said. So they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got up and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Greatheart called after him, saying, Soho! friend, let us have your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I know this man. Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Prithee, who is it? It is one, said he, who comes from whereabouts I dwelt. His name is Stand-fast; he is certainly a right good pilgrim.

So they came up one to another, and presently Stand-fast said to old Honest, Ho, father Honest, are you there? Aye, said he, that I am, as sure as you are there. Right glad am I, said Mr. Stand-fast, that I have found you on this road. And as glad am I, said the other, that I espied you upon your knees. Then Mr. Stand-fast blushed and said, But why did you see me? Yes, that I did, quoth the other, and with my heart was glad at the sight. Why, what did you think? said Stand-fast. Think! said old Honest, what should I think? I thought we had an honest man upon the road, and therefore should have his company by and by. If you thought not amiss [said Stand-fast], how happy am I; but if I be not as I should, I alone must bear it. That is true, said the other, but your fear doth further confirm me that things are right betwixt the Prince of Pilgrims and your soul; for, saith he, 'Blessed is the man that feareth always.'

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1045

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Wed, 20 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

GREAT-HEART. I promise you this was enough to discourage, but did they make an end here?

VALIANT. No, stay. They told me also of many that had tried that way of old, and that had gone a great way therein, to see if they could find something of the glory there, that so many had so much talked of from time to time; and how they came back again, and befooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And they named several that did so; as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more, who, they said, had some of them, gone far to see if they could find; but not one of them found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather.

GREAT-HEART. Did they say anything more to discourage you?

VALIANT. Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim, and how he found this way so solitary that he never had a comfortable hour therein. Also, that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein; yea, and also, which I had almost forgot, that Christian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned in the Black River, and never went foot further, however it was smothered up.

GREAT-HEART. And did none of these things discourage you?

VALIANT. No, they seemed but as so many nothings to me.

GREAT-HEART. How did that come about?

VALIANT. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had said, and that carried me beyond them all.

GREAT-HEART. Then this was your victory, even your faith.

VALIANT. It was so. I believed, by the grace of God, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, and, by believing, am come to this place.

Who would true valor see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constantly be,
Come wind, come weather.
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent,
His first avow'd intent
To be a pilgrim.

Who so beset him round
With dismal stories,
Do, but themselves confound.
His strength is more.
No lion can frighten him,
He'll be in a giant fight.
But he will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit;
He knows he is at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He'll fear not what men say;
He'll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy; and that place was all grown over with briars and thorns, excepting here and there, where was an Enchanted Arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in which, if a man sleeps, it is a question, say some, whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one and the other, and Mr. Great-heart went before, for that he was the guide; and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being there a guard, for fear, lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also, they cheered up one another as well as they could; Feeble-mind, Mr. Great-heart commanded, should come up after him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant.

Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all, so that they could scarcely, for a great while, see one another; wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel for one another by words; for they walked not by sight.

But anyone must think that here was but sorry going for the best of them all; but how much worse for the women and children, who, both of feet and heart, were but tender. Yet so it was that through the encouraging words of he that led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along.

The way was also here very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. Nor was there on all this ground so much as one inn, or victualling house, therein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing. While one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt, and the children, some of them, lost their shoes in the mire. While one cries out, I am down; and another, Ho! where are you? And a third, the bushes have got such a fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them.

Then they came at an arbor, warm, and promising much refreshing to the Pilgrims; for it was finely wrought above the head, beautified with greens, furnished with benches and settles. It also had in it a soft couch, whereon the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things considered, was tempting; for the Pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the way; but there was not one of them that made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually, when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. This arbor was called The Slothful's Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary.

I saw them in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground, till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was light, their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand; but he had in his pocket a map of all ways leading to, or from the Celestial City; wherefore he struck a light, for he never goes also without his tinder-box, and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be careful, in that place, to turn to the right-hand way. And had he not here been careful to look in his map, they had all, in probability, been smothered in the mud; for, just a little before them, and that at the end of the cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the Pilgrims in.

Then thought I with myself, who that goeth on pilgrimage, but would have one of these maps about him, that he may look when he is at a stand, which is the way he must take.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1044

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Tue, 19 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

GREAT-HEART. But you fought a great while; I wonder you were not weary.

VALIANT. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand; and when they were joined together, as if a sword grew out of my arm, and when the blood ran through my fingers, then I fought with most courage (2 Sam. 23:10).

GREAT-HEART. Thou hast done well. Thou hast 'resisted unto blood, striving against sin.' Thou shalt abide by us, come in and go out with us, for we are thy companions.

Then they took him, and washed his wounds, and gave him of what they had to refresh him; and so they went on together. Now, as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart was delighted in him, for he loved one greatly that he found to be a man of his hands, and because there were with his company them that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned him about many things; as, first, what countryman he was?

VALIANT. I am of Dark-land; for there I was born, and there my father and mother are still.

GREAT-HEART. Dark-land, said the guide, doth not that lie up on the same coast with the City of Destruction?

VALIANT. Yes, it doth. Now, that which caused me to come on pilgrimage was this: we had one Mr. Tell-true, who came into our parts, and he told it about what Christian had done, who went from the City of Destruction; namely, how he had forsaken his wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was also confidently reported that he had killed a serpent that came out to resist him in his journey, and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told what welcome he had at all his Lord's lodgings, especially when he came to the gates of the Celestial City; for there, said the man, he was received with sound of trumpet, by a company of Shining Ones. He also told how all the bells in the city did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments he was clothed with, with many other things that now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels, that my heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after him; nor could father or mother stay me! So I got from them, and have come thus far on my way.

GREAT-HEART. You came in at the gate, did you not?

VALIANT. Yes, yes; for the same man also told us that all would be nothing if we did not begin to enter this way at the gate.

GREAT-HEART. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, and what he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near.

VALIANT. Why is this Christian's wife?

GREAT-HEART. Yes, that is, and these are also her four sons.

VALIANT. What! and going on pilgrimage too?

GREAT-HEART. Yes, verily; they are following after.

VALIANT. It gladdens me at heart. Good man! How joyful will he be when he shall see them that would not go with him, yet to enter after him in at the gates into the City!

GREAT-HEART. Without doubt, it will be a comfort to him; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children.

VALIANT. But now you are upon that, pray let me hear your opinion about it. Some ask a question, whether we shall know one another when we are there.

GREAT-HEART. Do they think they shall know themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that bliss? And if they think they shall know and do these, why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also?

Again, since relations are our second self, though that state will be dissolved there, yet why may it not be rationally concluded that we shall be more glad to see them there than to see they are wanting?

VALIANT. Well, I understand where you are on this. Do you have any more questions to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage?

GREAT-HEART, Yes. Were your father and mother willing that you should become a pilgrim?

VALIANT. OH no! They used all means imaginable to persuade me to stay at home.

GREAT-HEART, What could they say against it?

VALIANT. They said it was an idle life, and if I myself were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I would never countenance a pilgrim's condition.

GREAT-HEART. And what did they say else?

VALIANT. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way; yea, the most dangerous way in the world, said they, is that which the pilgrims go.

GREAT-HEART. Did they show that this way is so dangerous?

VALIANT. Yes, and that in many particulars.

GREAT-HEART. Name some of them.

VALIANT. They told me of the Slough of Despond, where Christian was well nigh smothered. They told me that there were archers standing ready in Beelzebub Castle, to shoot them that should knock at the wicket-gate for entrance. They told me also of the wood, and dark mountains; of the Hill Difficulty; of the lions; and also of the three giants, Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good. They said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend that haunted the Valley of Humiliation, and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hobgoblins are; where the light is darkness; where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me also of Giant Despair, of Doubting Castle, and of the ruin that the Pilgrims met with there. Further, they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And that, after all this, I should find a river, over which I should find no bridge, and that that river did be betwixt the Celestial Country and me.

GREAT-HEART. And was this all?

VALIANT. No. They also told me that this way was full of deceivers, and of persons that lay in wait there to turn good men out of the path.

GREAT-HEART. But how did they make that out?

VALIANT. They told me that Mr. Worldly-wiseman did there lie in wait to deceive. They also said that there was Formality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They also said that By-ends, Talkative, or Demas would go near to gather me up; that the Flatterer would catch me in his net; or that, with green-headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the gate, from whence he always was sent back to the hole that was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1043

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Mon, 18 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

EXPERIENCE. Call her, call her; she shall assuredly have what we can help her to. So they called her, and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldst have? Then she blushed and said, The great glass that hangs up in the dining room. So Sincere ran and fetched it, and, with a joyful consent, it was given to her. Then she bowed her head and gave thanks, and said, "By this I know that I have obtained favor in your eyes."

They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to their husbands great commendations, for that they had joined with Mr. Great-heart, to the slaying of Giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle.

About Christiana's neck, the Shepherds put a bracelet, and so they did about the necks of her four daughters; also, they put earrings in their ears, and jewels on their foreheads.

When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in peace, but gave not to them those certain cautions which before were given to Christian and his companion. The reason was that these had Greatheart to be their guide, who was one that was well acquainted with things, and so could give them their cautions more seasonably; to wit, even then when the danger was nigh the approaching.

What cautions Christian and his companion had received from the Shepherds, they had also lost, by that time had come when they had need to put them into practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this company had over the others.

From hence they went on singing, and they said,
Behold, how fitly are the stages set
For their relief, pilgrims have become!
And how they use receive without one let,
That makes the other life our mark and home!

What novelties they have to give us,
That we, though Pilgrims, joyful lives may live;
They do upon us, too, such things bestow,
That shows we Pilgrims are, wherever we go.

When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly came to the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, who dwelt in the town of Apostasy. Wherefore of him Mr. Great-heart, their guide, did now put them in mind, saying, This is the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, who carried with him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concerning this man; he would hearken to no counsel, but once falling, persuasion could not stop him.

When he came to the place where the Cross and the Sepulcher were, he did meet with one that did bid him look there, but he gnashed with his teeth, stamped, and said he was resolved to go back to his own town. Before he came to the gate, he met with the Evangelist, who offered to lay hands on him to turn him back to the way. But this Turn-away resisted him, and having done much despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and so escaped his hand (Heb. 10:26-29).

Then they went on, and just at the place where Little-faith formerly was robbed, there stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all bloody. Then said Mr. Great-heart, What art thou? The man made answer, saying, I am one whose name is Valiant-for-truth. I am a pilgrim and am going to the Celestial City. Now, as I was on my way, there were three men who beset me, and propounded unto me these three things: 1. Whether I would become one of them. 2. Or go back from whence I came. 3. Or die upon the place. To the first, I answered, I had been a true man a long season, and therefore it could not be expected that I now should cast in my lot with thieves (Prov. 1:10-14). Then they demanded what I would say to the second. So I told them that the place from whence I came, had I not found incommodity there, I had not forsaken it at all; but finding it altogether unsuitable to me, and very unprofitable for me, I forsook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to the third. And I told them, My life cost more dear far, than that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have nothing to do but put things to my choice; wherefore, at your peril be it, if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, drew upon me, and I also drew upon them.

So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of above three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of the marks of their valor, and have also carried away with them some of mine. They are, but just now gone. I suppose they might, as the saying is, have heard your horse dash, and so they betook themselves to flight.

GREAT-HEART. But here were great odds, three against one.

VALIANT. It is true, but little or more is nothing to him that has the truth on his side. 'Though a host should encamp against me,' said one, 'my heart shall not fear; though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident' (Psa. 27:3). Besides, saith he, I have read in some records, that one man has fought an army. And how many did Samson slay with the jaw-bone of an ass?[283] (Judg. 15:15, 16).

GREAT-HEART. Then said the guide, Why did you not cry out, that some might have come in for your succor?

VALIANT. So I did, to my King, who, I knew, could hear and afford invisible help, and that was sufficient for me.

GREAT-HEART. Then said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Thou hast worthily behaved thyself. Let me see thy sword. So he showed it to him. When he had taken it in his hand and looked thereon a while, he said, Ha! It is a right Jerusalem blade (Isa. 2:3).

VALIANT. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it. He need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edges will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit, and all (Eph. 6:12-17; Heb. 4:12).

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1042

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sun, 17 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing; the which, when they had received, they went to their rest, each one respectively unto his proper place. When morning was come, because the mountains were high, and the day clear, and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to show to the Pilgrims, before their departure, some rarities; therefore, after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the Shepherds took them out into the fields, and showed them first what they had showed to Christian before. Then they had them go to some new places. The first was to Mount Marvel, where I looked and beheld a man at a distance, who tumbled the hills about with words. Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they told them that that man was a son of one Great-grace, of whom you read in the First Part of the Records of the Pilgrim's Progress. And he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their way, what difficulties they shall meet with, by faith (Mark 11:23, 24). Then said Mr. Great-heart, I know him. He is a man above many.

Then they had them go to another place, called Mount Innocent, and there they saw a man clothed all in white, and two men, Prejudice and Ill-will, continually casting dirt upon him. Now, behold, the dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in little time fall off again, and his garments would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat.

Then said the Pilgrims, What means this? The Shepherds answered, This man is named Godly-man, and this garment is to show the innocency of his life. Now, those who throw dirt at him are such as hate his well-doing; but, as you see, the dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that liveth truly innocently in the world. Whoever they be that would make such men dirty, they labor all in vain; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the noon-day.

Then they took them, and had them to Mount Charity, where they showed them a man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was nevertheless. Then said they, What should this be? This is, said the Shepherds, to show you, that he that has a heart to give of his labor to the poor, shall never want wherewithal. He that watereth shall be watered himself. And the cake that the widow gave to the Prophet did not cause that she had ever the less in her barrel.

They also had them to a place where they saw one Fool, and one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, with intention to make him white; but the more they washed him, the blacker he was. They then asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they told them, saying, Thus shall it be with the vile person. All means used to get such a one a good name shall, in conclusion, tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it was with the Pharisees, and so shall it be with all hypocrites.

Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana, her mother, Mother, I would, if it might be, see the hole in the hill, or that commonly called the by-way to hell. So her mother broke her mind to the Shepherds. Then they went to the door. It was on the side of a hill, and they opened it, and bade Mercy hearken awhile. So she hearkened, and heard one saying, Cursed be my father, for holding of my feet back from the way of peace and life; and another said, O that I had been torn in pieces, before I had, to save my life, lost my soul! And another said, If I were to live again, how would I deny myself, rather than come to this place! Then there was as if the very earth had groaned and quaked under the feet of this young woman for fear. So she looked white, and came trembling away, saying, Blessed be he and she that are delivered from this place. Now, when the Shepherds had shown them all these things, then they took them back to the palace and entertained them with what the house would afford. But Mercy, being a young and breeding woman, longed for something that she saw there, but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked her what she ailed, for she looked as if she was not well. Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hanging up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind: if, therefore, I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention thy wants to the Shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy said, Then, mother, if you please, ask the Shepherds if they are willing to sell it.

Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would present a man, one way, with his own features exactly (James 1:23); and, turn it but another way, and it would show one the very face and similitude of the Prince of Pilgrims Himself (1 Cor. 13:12). Yea, I have talked with them that can tell, and they have said, that they have seen the very crown of thorns upon His head, by looking in that glass; they have therein also seen the holes in His hands, in His feet, and His side (2 Cor. 3:18). Yea, such an excellency is there in that glass, that it will show Him, to one where they have a mind to see Him; whether living or dead; whether in earth or Heaven; whether in a state of humiliation, or in His exaltation; whether coming to suffer, or coming to reign.

Christiana, therefore, went to the Shepherds apart—now the names of the Shepherds are Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere—and said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding woman, that I think doth long for something that she hath seen in this house; and she thinks she shall miscarry, if she shall by you be denied.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1041

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Sat, 16 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Mr. Great-heart replied, It is I, Great-heart, one of the King of the Celestial Country's conductors of pilgrims to their place; and I demand of thee that thou open thy gates for my entrance. Prepare thyself also to fight, for I am come to take away thy head, and to demolish Doubting Castle.

Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought no man could overcome him; and, again, thought he, since heretofore I have made a conquest of angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid! So he harnessed himself and went out. He had a cap of steel upon his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to him, and he came out in iron shoes with a great club in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and before. Also, when Diffidence, the giantess, came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground, but was very loath to die. He struggled hard, and had, as they say, as many lives as a cat; but Great-heart was his death, for he left him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders.

Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, that you know might with ease be done, since Giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in destroying that; and among the pilgrims, they found one Mr. Despondency, almost starved to death, and one Much-afraid, his daughter; these two they saved alive. But it would have made you a-wondered to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how full of dead men's bones the dungeon was.

When Mr. Great-heart and his companions had performed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid into their protection; for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to that tyrant Giant Despair. They, therefore, I say, took with them the head of the Giant, for his body they had buried under a heap of stones, and down to the road and to their companions they came, and showed them what they had done. Now, when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it was the head of Giant Despair indeed, they were very jocund and merry. Now Christiana, if need be, could play upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy upon the lute; so, since they were so merry disposed, she played them a lesson, and Ready-to-halt would dance. So he took Despondency's daughter, named Much-afraid, by the hand, and they went dancing in the road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand; but, I promise you, he footed it well. Also, the girl was to be commended, for she answered the music handsomely.

As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not much to him; he was for feeding rather than dancing, for that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle of spirits, for present relief, and then prepared him something to eat; and, in little time, the old gentleman came to himself, and began to be finely revived.

Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were finished, Mr. Great-heart took the head of Giant Despair, and set it upon a pole by the highway side, right over against the pillar that Christian erected for a caution to pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds.

Though Doubting Castle be demolish'd,
And the Giant Despair hath lost his head,
Sin can rebuild the Castle, make't remain,
And make Despair the Giant live again.

Then he wrote under it, upon a marble stone, these verses following:

This is the head of him, whose name only
In former times, pilgrims were terrified.
His Castle's down, and Diffidence, his wife,
Brave Master Great-heart has been bereft of life.
Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid,
Great heart for them; also, the man has played.
Who hereof doubts, if he'll but cast his eye
Up hither, may his scruples satisfy.
This head also, when doubting cripples dance,
Doth show from fears they have deliverance.

When these men had thus bravely shown themselves against Doubting Castle and had slain Giant Despair, they went forward and went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains.

Now the Shepherds, seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great-heart, for with him they were well acquainted, they said unto him, Good Sir, you have got a goodly company here. Pray, where did you find all these?

Then Mr. Great-heart replied:

First, here is Christiana and her train,
Her sons, and her sons' wives, who like the wain,
Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer,
From sin to grace, else they had not been here;
Next, here's old Honest come on pilgrimage,
Ready-to-halt, too, who, I dare engage,
True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind,
Who willing was not to be left behind;
Despondency, good man, is coming after,
And so also is Much-afraid his daughter.
May we have entertainment here, or must
We further go? Let's know where to trust.

Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable company. You are welcome to us, for we have comfort for the feeble as for the strong. Our Prince has an eye to what is done to the least of these; therefore, infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment (Matt. 25:40). So they had them to the palace door, and then said unto them, Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind; Come in, Mr. Ready-to-halt; come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid, his daughter. These, Mr. Great-heart, said the Shepherds to the guide, we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that you are my Lord's Shepherds indeed; for that you have not pushed these diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should (Ezek. 34:21). So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the Shepherds said to those of the weaker sort, What is it that you would have? For, said they, all things must be managed here to the supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of the unruly.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1040

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Fri, 15 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Well, the time grew on that the Pilgrims must go on their way, wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends; they conferred with them; they had some time set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. There were again, that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such things as were necessary (Acts 28:10).

Then they set forward on their way; and their friends accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and parted. They, therefore, who were of the Pilgrims' company, went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now, the women and children being weak, they were forced to go as they could bear; by this means, Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more sympathy for their condition.

When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death; there, therefore, they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well; and the rather because they now found that they had a benefit by such a manly suffering as his was.

They went on, therefore, after this, a good way further, talking of Christian and Faithful; and how Hopeful joined himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead.

Now they had come up with the Hill Lucre, where the silver mine was, which took Demas off from his pilgrimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell and perished; wherefore they considered that. But when they came to the old monument that stood over against the Hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake; they marveled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, should be so blinded as to turn aside here. Only they considered again that nature is not affected by the harms that others have met with, especially if that thing upon which they look has an attractive virtue upon the foolish eye.

I saw now that they went on, till they came to the river that was on this side of the Delectable Mountains. To the river where the fine trees grow on both sides, and whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against surfeits, where the meadows are green all the year long, and where they might lie down safely (Psa. 23).

By this river side, in the meadow, there were cotes and folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the babes of those women that go on pilgrimage (Heb. 5:2). Also there was here one that was intrusted with them, who could have compassion, and that could gather these lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with young (Isa. 40:11). Now to the care of THIS MAN, Christiana admonished her four daughters to commit their little ones, that by these waters they might be housed, harboured, succoured, and nourished, and that none of them might be lacking in time to come.[266] This Man, if any of them go astray, or be lost, He will bring them again; He will also bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen them that are sick (Ezek. 34:11-16). Here they will never want meat, and drink, and clothing; here they will be kept from thieves and robbers; for this Man will die before one of those committed to His trust shall be lost (Jer. 23:4).

Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and admonition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, and that you know is a favor of no small account. Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, a variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit; fruit not like that that Matthew ate of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub's garden; but fruit that procureth health where there is none, and that continueth and increaseth it where it is.

So they were content to commit their little ones to Him; and that which was also an encouragement to them so to do, was, for that all this was to be at the charge of the King, and so was as a hospital for young children and orphans.

Now they went on; and when they were come to By-path Meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with his fellow Hopeful, when they were taken by Giant Despair, and put into Doubting Castle; they sat down and consulted what was best to be done; to wit, now they were so strong, and had got such a man as Mr. Great-heart for their conductor, whether they had not best to make an attempt upon the Giant, demolish his castle, and, if there were any pilgrims in it, to set them at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said the contrary. One questioned if it were lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground; another said they might, provided their end was good; but Mr. Great-heart said, Though that assertion offered last cannot be universally true, yet I have a commandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the good fight of faith; and, I pray, with whom should I fight this good fight, if not with Giant Despair? I will, therefore, attempt to take away his life and demolish Doubting Castle. Then said he, Who will go with me? Then said old Honest, I will. And so will we too, said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, James, and Joseph; for they were young men and strong (1 John 3:13, 14). So they left the women in the road, and with them Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt with his crutches, to be their guard, until they came back; for in that place though Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a little child might lead them (Isa. 11:6). So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the four young men, went to go up to Doubting Castle, to look for Giant Despair. When they came to the Castle-gate, they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise. At that, the old Giant comes to the gate, and Diffidence, his wife, follows. Then said he, Who, and what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the Giant Despair?

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1039

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Thu, 14 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

CONTRITE. You talk of rubs; what rubs have you met withal?

HON. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide, for he can give the best account of that.

GREAT-HEART. We have been beset three or four times already. First, Christiana and her children were beset by two ruffians, who they feared would take away their lives. We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last, than were beset by him. And thus it was: After we had been some time at the house of 'Gaius, mine host, and of the whole church' (Rom. 16:23), we were minded upon a time to take our weapons with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims (for we heard that there was a notable one thereabouts). Now Gaius knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt thereabout; so we looked, and looked, till at last we discerned the mouth of his cave; then we were glad, and plucked up our spirits. So we approached up to his den, and lo, when we came there, he had dragged, by mere force, into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, supposing, as we thought, he had had another prey, he left the poor man in his hole and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him; but in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the way-side, for a terror to such as should after practice such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion.

FEEBLE-MIND. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true, to my cost, and comfort; to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends with their weapons, approach so near for my deliverance.

HOLY-MAN. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things that they have need to be possessed with, that go on pilgrimage; courage, and an unspotted life. If they have no courage, they can never hold on their way; and if their lives are loose, they will make the very name of a Pilgrim stink.

LOVE-SAINT. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this caution is not needful amongst you. But truly, there are many that go upon the road, that rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pilgrims in the earth.

DARE-NOT-LIE. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, It is true, they neither have the pilgrim's need, nor the pilgrim's courage; they go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet; one shoe goes inward, another outward, and their hosen out behind; there a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord.

PENITENT. These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled for; nor are the pilgrims like to have that grace put upon them and their pilgrim's progress, as they desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes.

Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until supper was set upon the table; unto which they went and refreshed their weary bodies; so they went to rest. Now they stayed in this fair a great while, at the house of this Mr. Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph.

The time, as I said, that they lay here, was long (for it was not now as in former times). Wherefore the Pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, labored much for the poor; wherefore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession. And, to say the truth, Grace, Phoebe, and Martha were all of a very good nature and did much good in their place. They were also all of them very fruitful; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world.

While they lay here, there came a monster out of the woods and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now, no man in the town durst so much as face this monster; but all men fled when they heard of the noise of his coming.

The monster was like unto no one beast upon the earth; its body was like a dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns (Rev. 17:3). It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman. This monster propounded conditions to men, and such men as loved their lives more than their souls accepted those conditions. So they came under.

Now this Mr. Great-heart, together with these that came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent.

Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, with their weapons, go forth to meet him. Now the monster, at first, was very rampant and looked upon these enemies with great disdain, but they so belabored him, being sturdy men-at-arms, that they made him make a retreat; so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again.

The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town; also these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did still continually assault him; insomuch, that in process of time he became not only wounded, but lame; also he has not made that havoc of the townsmen's children, as formerly he has done. And it is verily believed by some that this beast will die of his wounds.

This, therefore, made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of great fame in this town; so that many of the people who wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverend esteem and respect for them. Upon this account, therefore, it was that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand more than a beast; these had no reverence for these men, nor took they notice of their valor or adventures.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1038

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Wed, 13 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

HON. By-ends! What was he?

GREAT-HEART. A very arch fellow; a downright hypocrite. One that would be religious, whichever way the world went, but so cunning that he would be sure neither to lose nor suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and change from opinion to opinion; yea, and plead for so doing too. But, so far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God.

Now, by this time, they had come within sight of the town of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is kept. So, when they saw that they were so near the town, they consulted with one another, how they should pass through the town; and some said one thing, and some another. At last, Mr. Great-heart said, I have, as you may understand, often been a conductor of pilgrims through this town; now I am acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by nation, an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge (Acts 21:16). If you think good, said he, we will turn in there.

Content, said old Honest; Content, said Christiana; Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now, you must think, it was even-tide by that they got to the outside of the town; but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man's house. So thither they came; and he called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever he heard it; so he opened, and they all came in. Then said Mnason, their host, How far have ye come today? So they said, From the house of Gaius, our friend. I promise you, said he, you have gone a good stitch, you may well be weary; sit down. So they sat down.

GREAT-HEART. Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, Sirs? I dare say you are welcome to my friend.

MNASON. I also said, Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome, and, whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what we can to get it for you.

HON. Our great want, a while since, was harbor and good company, and now I hope we have both.

MNASON. For harbor, you see what it is; but for good company, that will appear in the trial.

GREAT-HEART. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the Pilgrims up into their lodging?

MNASON. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to their respective places, and also showed them a very fair dining-room, where they might be, and sup together, until the time came to go to rest.

Now, when they were set in their places and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord if there were any stores of good people in the town?

MNASON. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few, when compared with them on the other side.

HON. But how shall we see some of them? For the sight of good men to those who are going on pilgrimage is like the appearance of the moon and the stars to those who are sailing upon the seas.

Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace came up; so he said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that I have a friend or two at my house that have a mind this evening to see them.

So Grace went to call them, and they came; and, after salutation made, they sat down together at the table.

Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neighbors, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house; they are Pilgrims; they come from afar, and are going to mount Zion. But who, quoth he, do you think this is? pointing with his finger to Christiana; it is Christiana, the wife of Christian, that famous Pilgrim, who, with Faithful, his brother, was so shamefully handled in our town. At that, they stood amazed, saying, We little thought to see Christiana, when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very comfortable surprise. Then they asked her about her welfare and whether these young men were her husband's sons. And when she had told them they were, they said, The King whom you love and serve, make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace!

HON. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all sat down) asked Mr.
Contrite, and the rest, in what posture was their town at present?

CONTRITE. You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair time. It is hard to keep our hearts and spirits in any good order when we are in a cumbered condition. He that lives in such a place as this is, and that has to do with such as we have, has need of an item to caution him to take heed, every moment of the day.

HON. But how are your neighbors for quietness?

CONTRITE. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how Christian and Faithful were used at our town, but of late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with a load upon them till now; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days, we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious; now, especially in some parts of our town (for you know our town is large), religion is counted honorable.

Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray, how fareth it with you in your pilgrimage? How does the country stand towards you?

HON. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men; sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, sometimes uphill, sometimes downhill; we are seldom at a certainty; the wind is not always on our backs, nor is everyone a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already, and what are yet behind, we know not; but for the most part, we find it true, that has been talked of, of old, A good man must suffer trouble.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1037

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Tue, 12 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Now, about this time, Matthew and Mercy were married. Also, Gaius gave his daughter Phoebe to James, Matthew's brother, as his wife; after which time they yet stayed above ten days at Gaius' house, spending their time and the seasons, like as pilgrims used to do.

When they were to depart, Gaius made them a feast, and they did eat and drink, and were merry. Now the hour had come that they must be gone; wherefore, Mr. Great-heart called for a reckoning, but Gaius told him that at his house it was not the custom for pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He boarded them by the year, but looked for his pay from the good Samaritan, who had promised him, at his return, whatsoever charge he was at with them, faithfully to repay him (Luke 10:34, 35). Then said Mr. Great-heart to him,

GREAT-HEART. 'Beloved, thou dost faithfully whatsoever thou dost to the brethren, and to strangers; which have borne witness of thy charity before the church; whom if thou (yet) bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well' (3 John 5, 6). Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and of his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble-mind. He also gave him something to drink, by the way.

Now, Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the door, made as if he intended to linger; the which, when Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, Come, Mr. Feeble-Mind, pray do you go along with us, I will be your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest.

FEEBLE. Alas! I want a suitable companion; you are all lusty and strong, but I, as you see, am weak; I choose, therefore, rather to come behind, lest, by reason of my many infirmities, I should be both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no laughing; I shall like no gay attire; I shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay, I am so weak a man as to be offended with that which others have liberty to do. I do not yet know all the truth; I am a very ignorant Christian man; sometimes, if I hear some rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I can not do so too. It is with me, as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a lamp despised ('He that is ready to slip with his feet, is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease' Job 12:5), so that I know not what to do.

GREAT-HEART. But, brother, said. Mr. Great-heart, I have it in commission to 'comfort the feeble-minded,' and to 'support the weak' (1 Thess. 5:14). You must needs go along with us; we will wait for you; we will lend you our help (Rom. 14:1); we will deny ourselves of some things, both opinionative and practical, for your sake (1 Cor. 8), we will not enter into doubtful disputations before you; we will be made all things to you, rather than you shall be left behind (1 Cor. 9:22).

Now all this while they were at Gaius' door; and behold, as they were thus in the heat of their discourse, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by, with his crutches [promises] in his hand (Psa. 38:17); and he also was going on pilgrimage.

FEEBLE. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, Man, how camest thou hither? I was just now complaining that I had no suitable companion, but thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt, I hope thee and I may be some help.

READY-TO-HALT. I shall be glad of thy company, said the other; and good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches.

FEEBLE. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy goodwill, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. Howbeit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog.

READY. If either I or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good Mr. Feeble-mind.

Thus, therefore, they went on; Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt came behind with his crutches. Then said Mr. Honest,

HON. Pray, Sir, now we are upon the road, tell us some profitable things of some that have gone on pilgrimage before us.

GREAT-HEART. With goodwill. I suppose you have heard how Christian of old met with Apollyon in the Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard work he had to go through in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also, I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it with Madam Wanton, with Adam the first, with one Discontent, and Shame, four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road.

HON. Yes, I have heard of all this; but indeed, good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame; he was an unwearied one.

GREAT-HEART. Aye, for as the Pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrong name.

HON. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian and Faithful met

Talkative? That was also a notable one.

GREAT-HEART. He was a confident fool, yet many followed his ways.

HON. He had like to have beguiled Faithful.

GREAT-HEART. Aye, but Christian put him in a way that quickly found him out. Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them of what should befall them at Vanity Fair.

GREAT-HEART. Then said their guide, Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophesied to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity Fair.

HON. Say you so? I dare say it was a hard chapter that he then read unto them.

GREAT-HEART. It was so, but he gave them encouragement withal. But what do we talk about them? There were a couple of lion-like men; they had set their faces like flint. Don't you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge?

HON. Well, Faithful bravely suffered.

GREAT-HEART. So he did, and as brave things came on it, for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates it, were converted by his death.

HON. Well, but pray go on; for you are well acquainted with things.

GREAT-HEART. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity Fair, one By-ends was the arch one.

Works of John Bunyan: THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. THE 2nd PART. 1036

noreply@blogger.com (Apprehended by God) — Mon, 11 May 2026 03:30:00 +0000

Well, as soon as he saw Mr. Greatheart and his friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted.

GREAT-HEART. We want thee; for we are come to avenge the quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, when thou hast dragged them out of the King's highway; wherefore, come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out; and to a battle they went, and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind.

SLAY. Then said the giant, Why are you here on my ground?

GREAT-HEART. To avenge the blood of pilgrims, as I also told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give back; but he came up again, and, in the greatness of his mind, he let fly with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand; so he smote him, and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his lodgings. When they came home, they showed his head to the family, and then set it up, as they had done others before, for a terror to those who shall attempt to do as he had done hereafter.

Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his hands.

FEEBLE-MIND. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see; and, because death did usually once a day knock at my door, I thought I should never be well at home; so I betook myself to a pilgrim's life, and have traveled hither from the town of Uncertain, where my father and I were born. I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind; but would, if I could, though I can but crawl, spend my life in the pilgrim's way. When I came to the gate that is at the head of the way, the Lord of that place did entertain me freely; neither objected He against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind; but gave me such things that were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there; and because the Hill Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of His servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, though none were willing to go so softly as I am forced to do; yet still, as they came on, they bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was the will of their Lord that comfort should be given to the feeble-minded, and so went on their own pace (1 Thess. 5:14).

When I came up to Assault Lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter; but, alas! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial. So he came up and took me. I conceived he should not kill me. Also, when he had got me into his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I should come out alive again; for I have heard that not any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of Providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Robbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am; but I am, as you see, escaped with life; for the which I thank my King as author, and you as the means. Other brunts I also look for, but this I have resolved on, to wit, to run when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I thank Him who loves me, I am fixed. My way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind.

HON. Then said old Mr. Honest, Have you not, some time ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrim.

FEEBLE. Acquainted with him! Yes, he came from the town of Stupidity, which lieth four degrees to the northward of the City of Destruction, and as many off of where I was born; yet we were well acquainted, for, indeed, he was my uncle, my father's brother. He and I have been in a temper. He was a little shorter than I, but we were of much the same complexion.

HON. I perceive you know him, and I am apt to believe also that you were related one to another, for you have his whitely look, a cast like his with your eye, and your speech is much alike.

FEEBLE. Most who have known us both have said so, and besides, what I have read in him I have, for the most part, found in myself.

GAIUS. Come, Sir, said good Gaius, be of good cheer, you are welcome to me, and to my house, and what thou hast a mind to, call for freely; and what thou wouldest have my servants do for thee, they will do it with a ready mind.

Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is an unexpected favor, " as the sun shone out of a very dark cloud. Did Giant Slay-good intend me this favor when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further? Did he intend that after he had rifled my pockets, I should go to Gaius, mine host? Yet so it is.

Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, there comes one running, and calls at the door, and tells that, about a mile and a half off, there was one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where he was with a thunderbolt.

FEEBLE. Alas! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain? He overtook me some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my company-keeper. He was also with me when Slay-good, the giant, took me, but he was nimble on his heels and escaped. But it seems he escaped to die, and I was taken to live.

What, one would think, doth seek to slay outright,
Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight.
That very providence, whose face is death,
Doth oftentimes to the lowly life bequeath.
I was taken, he did escape and flee;
Hands crossed give death to him, and life to me.