THE

S

IN THE

SIMILITUDE

OF A

DREA M.

PART SECOND.

Courteous Companions,

OME time fince, to tell you my dream that I had of Chriftian the Pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey towards the celestial country, was pleafant to me, and profitable to you. I told you then alfo what I faw concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling they were to ga with him on pilgrimage, infomuch that he was forced t go on hie progrefs without them; for he durft not run the danger of that destruction which he feared would come, by ftaying with them in the city of Destruction; wherefore as I then fhewed you, he left them and departed.

Now it hath fo happened, through the multiplicity of bufinefs, that I have been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels in thofe parts where he went; and fo could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make further enquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give an account of them: But having had fome concerns that way of late, I went down again thitherward. Now having taken up my lodgings in a wood, about a mile off the place, as I flept I dreamed agaia.

And as I was in my dream, behold an aged gentleman came by where I lay; and because he was to go fome part

of the way that I was travelling, methought I got up and went with him. So as we walked, and as travellers ufually do, we fell into a difcourfe, and our talk happened to be about Chriftian and his travels: For thus I began with the pid man.

Sir, faid I, What town is that there below, that lyeth on the left hand of our way?

Then faid Mr. Sagacity, for that was his name, it is the city of Deftruction, a populous place, but poffeffed with a very ill-conditioned and idle fort of people.

I thought that was the city, quoth I: I went once myfelf thro' that town; and therefore I know that this report you give of it is true.

Sag Too true; I wish I could fpeak truth in fpeaking better of them that dwell therein.

Well, Sir, quoth 1, then I perceive you to be a well meaning man, and fe one that takes pleafure to hear and tell of that which is good: Pray, did you never hear what happened to a man, fome time ago in this town, whole name was Chriftian, that went on a pilgrimage up towards the higher regions?

Sag. Hear of him, aye, and I also heard of the molef tations, troubles, wars, capacities, cries, groans, frights, and feats that he met with, and had in his journey; befides 1 must tell you, all our country rings of him; there are but few houfes that have heard of him and his doings, but have fought after and got the records of his pilgrimage; yea, I think I may fay, that this hazardous journey has got many well-wishers to his ways; for tho' when he was here he was Fool in every man's mouth, yet now he is gone he is highly commended of all: For, 'tis faid, he lives bravely where he is; yea, many of them 'that are refolved never to run his hazards, yet have their mouths water after his gains.

Chriftians are well Spoken of when gone, the called fools while they are here.

They may, quoth 1, well think, if they think any thing that is true, that he liveth well where he is; for he now lives at, and in the fountain of life, and has what he has without labour and forrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith, But pray, what talk have the people about him.

Sag.

Rev. 3. 4.

Chap. 6. 11.

Jag. Talk! the people talk ftrangely aut him: Some fay that he now walks in ite (that he has a chain of gold about neck; that he has a crown of gold, betwith pearls upon his head: Others fay, that the fhining that fometimes fhewed themfelves to him in his jourare become his companions, and that he is as familiar ith them in the place where he is, as here one neighbour with another. Befides, 'tis likewife confidently affirmed ncerning him, that the King of the place where he is, is beftowed upon him already a very rich d pleafant dwelling at court, and that e every day eateth and drinketh, and alketh and talketh with him, and received, he fmiles and favours of him that is judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected of fome, that this prince, the Lord that country, will fhortly come into thefe parts, and vill know the reafon, if they can give any, why his neigh Sours fet fa little by him, and had him fo much in derifion when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim. For they fay, That now he is fo in the

Zech. 3. 7.

Luke 14.

ffections of his prince, and that his fove- Chriftian's king eign is fo much concerned with the indig- vill take Chriities that were caft upon Chriftian, when ftians part. he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon

all

as done to himfelf; and no marvel, for 'twas for the love that he had to his prince that he ventured as he did. Then, quoth I, I am glad on't; I am glad for the poor man's fake, for that now

Luke 10. 16, he has reft from his labour; and for that he now reaps the benefits of his tears with joy; and for that he has got beyond the gun-fhot of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hate him. I alfo am glad, for that a rumour of these things is noifed abroad in this country; who can tell but it may work fome good effect of fome that are left behind? But, pray, Sir, while it is fresh in my mind, do you hear any thing of his wife and children? Poor hearts, I wonder in my mind what they do!

Sag. Who! Chriftiana and her fons! they are like to do well, as did Chriftian himself; for tho' they all played the fool at firft, and would by no means be perfuaded either by, the tears or entreaties of Chriftian, yet fecond thoughts

have wrought wonderfully with them; fo they have pack. ed up, and are alfo gone after him.

Better and better, quoth I: But, what wife and children and all?

Sag. 'Tis true, I can give you an account of the matter, for 1 was upon the fpot at the inftant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair.

Then faid I, a man may report it for a truth.

Sag. You need not fear to affirm it; I mean, that they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four boys; and feeing we are as I perceive, going fome confiderable way together, I will give you an account of the whole matter.

This Chriftiana (for that was her name from the day that the with her children betook themselves to a pilgrim's life) after her husband was gone over the river, and the could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to work in her mind. First, for that she had loft her husband, and for that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you know, faid he to me, nature can do no lefs but the living with many a heavy cogitation in the remembrance of the lofs of loving relations. This therefore of her husband did coft her many a tear. But this was not all, for Chriftiana did also begin to confider with herself, Whether her unbecoming behaviour towards her husband was not one caufe that the faw him no more, and that in fuch fort he was taken away from her. And upon this came into her mind by fwarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and ungodly carriage to her dear friend; which allo clogged her confcience, and did load her with guilt. She was, moreover, much broken with calling to remem. brance the reflets groans, the brinith tears, and felf-bemoaning of her husband, and how she did harden her heart against all his entreaties and loving perfuafions (of her and her fons) to go with him; yea, there was not any thing that Christian either faid to her, or did before her, all the while that his burden did hang on his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightening, and rent the caul of her heart afunder; efpecially that bitter out-cry of his, What shall I do to be faved? did ring in her ears moit dolefully.

Then faid fke to her children, fons, we are all undone.

I

have finned away your father and he is gone; he would ave had us with him, but I would not go myself; I also indered you of life. Wi.h that the boys fell into tears, d cried to go after their father. Oh! faid Christiana,

at it had been but our lots to go with him, then it had red well with us beyond what 'tis like to do now. For 'I formerly foolishly imagined concerning the troubles your father, that they proceed of a foolish fancy that had, or that he was over-run with melancholy humours, et now it will not out of my mind, but

at they fprang from another caufe, to wit, James 1.23,24 r that the light of life was given him; 25.

y the help of which as I perceive, he has

caped the fnares of death. Then they wept all again,' nd cried out, O was worth the day ! !

The next night Chriftiană had a dream; Chriftiana's nd, behold, he saw as if a broad parch- dream.

nent was opened before her, in which was Luke 18. 13. recorded the fun of her ways, and the

crimes, as he thought, looked very black upon her. Then The cried out aloud in her fleep, Lord have mercy upon me a finner; and the little children heard her.

1

After this fhe thought fhe faw two very ill-favoured ones tanding by her bed fide, and faying, What thall we do With this woman? for the cries out for mercy waking and eping: If the be fuffered to go on as he begins, we fhall lofe her as we have left her husband; wherefore we must, by fome way, feek to take her off from the thoughts of what fhall be hereafter, elfe all the world cannot help but The will become a pilgrim.

Now the awoke in a great fweat, also a trembling was upon her but after a while she fell to fleep

again; and then the thought the faw Chrif- Help against dif tian her husband, in a place of blifs among couragement. many immortals, with a harp in his hand,

fanding and playing upon it before one that fat on a throne, with a rainbow about his head. She faw alfo as if the bowed his head with his face to the paved work that as under the prince's feet, faying, I heartily thank my Lord the King for bringing me into this place. Then houted a company of them that food round abour, and

harped