1. IntroductionMay I now enter here? will he withinOpen to sorry me, though I have binAn undeserving Rebel?Bunyan, The Pilgrim's Progress1In this article I explore some of the ways in which the law of hospitality is represented in early modern English texts, including treatises, sermons and perhaps the most influential literary text of the era, The Pilgrim's Progress (1678) by John Bunyan (1628-88). Fleeing the City of Destruction with his fingers in his ears, Christian is propelled forward by a desire for the 'endless Kingdom to be Inhabited', where none are 'hurtful' and where 'every one [walks] in the sight of God, and [stands] in his presence with acceptance for ever'.2 Longing for free 'acceptance' within the celestial community, Christian nevertheless journeys through a world governed by fiercely guarded property rights. He yearns for inclusion and integration, for a hospitable society in which the constraints of both property ownership and sociallydefined subjectivity are transcended, yet finds himself defined as an outsider as he fights his way through a realm structured around the laws of trespass.3 Disturbingly, however, the narrative ultimately suggests that it is not only Giant Despair and his baronial counterparts who enforce the inhospitable exclusions attendant upon territorial jurisdictions, but also the King of the Celestial City himself.Failing to depict an order of truly open 'acceptance', The Pilgrim's Progress is not simply constrained by a theology set on condemning the reprobate even as it welcomes the elect, although Calvinist theology is foundational to the narrative. Choosing to present the workings of grace through the allegory of a stranger's quest for hospitality, The Pilgrim's Progress instead reveals that the welcome championed by the law of hospitality ultimately depends for its existence on the exclusions which it appears to oppose. Part I concludes not with Christian's glorious entry into the city but with Ignorance's violent and chilling exclusion from it; Ignorance's damnation, moreover, is not so much a nightmarish alternative to Christian's welcome as it is its dark underside. Part II attempts to resolve the tensions of part I, seeking to make tangible the hospitality which compelled yet ultimately eluded Christian's lonely, alienated quest, despite his final triumph. Ironically, however, the ostensibly more hospitable sequel, with its collective group of travellers and its safer, more welcoming journey, is unable to envisage a satisfying moment of entry into the Celestial City.4 In no apparent hurry to get to the end of their journey (unlike Christian and Hopeful in part I, who are 'sick' with desire for the city),5 many of the pilgrims in part II remain on this side of the River at the conclusion of the narrative, and we only hear a distant report of those who do cross over. Once exclusions are excluded, the narrative suggests, acts of inclusion lose their significance.Displaying the paradoxes characteristic of the hospitable encounter, The Pilgrim's Progress illuminates early modern debates regarding the nature of hospitality. Seeking to celebrate the gracious welcome on offer by the divine host, the text draws attention to the apparent gap between unconditional hospitality, extolled in Christian traditions, where the host has a duty to welcome the stranger who arrives at his door, and models of hospitality emphasising the host's discretion which deny the stranger any automatic right of entry. In line with a growing trend in early modern England, and in accordance with the Calvinist theology it allegorises, hospitality in part I of the text is reduced to selective charity, leaving the stranger, terrifyingly, at the mercy of the host.6 Depicting an order of sovereign grace and favour, governed by distinctly conditional laws of passage, part I nevertheless remains overshadowed by an alternative model of hospitality, the unconditional welcome for which the pilgrim, and the narrative, yearns. …
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