renewed their discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take it or no. Now Christian again seemed for doing it; but Hopeful made his second reply, as followeth :Hopeful My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been heretofore? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through; and art thou now nothing but fears? Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art. Also, this giant hath wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth, and with thee I mourn without the light. But, let us exercise a little more patience. Remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain nor cage, nor yet of bloody death; wherefore, let us (at least to avoid the shame that it becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well

as we can.

Now, night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel: to which he replied, They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear all hardships than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take them into the castle yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls of those that thou hast already dispatched, and make them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them.

So, when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes them into the castle yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims, as you are, once, and they trespassed on my grounds, as you have done; and when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces; and so within ten days I will do you. Go, get you down to your den again. And with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before. Now, when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence, and her husband the giant, was got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners; and, withal, the old giant wondered that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hopes that some will come to relieve them; or that they have picklocks about them, by the

means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant. I will therefore search them in the morning.

Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.

Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, brake out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That is good news: good brother, pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.

Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the dungeon door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the castle yard, and with his key opened that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened too; but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did open it. They then thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed; but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking that it waked Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.

Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do at that stile to prevent those that should come after from falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof this sentence: "Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy his holy pilgrims." Many, therefore, that followed after, read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follows:

Out of the way we went, and then we found
What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground:
And let them that come after have a care,
Lest heedlessness makes them as we to fare;
Lest they, for trespassing, his prisoners are,

Whose castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair.

THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS.

They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains, which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken before. So they went up to the mountains to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vineyards. Now, there were on the tops of these mountains shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The pilgrims, therefore, went to them, and leaning upon their staffs (as is common with weary pilgrims when they stand to talk with any by the way), they asked, Whose Delectable Mountains are these; and whose be the sheep that feed upon them?

Shepherds-These mountains are Emmanuel's land, and they are within sight of his city; and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for them. (John 10: 11, 15.)

Christian Is this the way to the Celestial City?

Shepherds-You are just in your way.

Christian How far is it thither?

Shepherds

indeed.

Too far for any but those who shall get thither,

Christian-Is the way safe or dangerous?

Shepherds-Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; but transgressors shall fall therein. (Hos. 14: 9.)

Christian - Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way?

Shepherds-The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be forgetful to entertain strangers (Heb. 13 : 2); therefore the good of the place is before you.

I saw also in my dream, that when the shepherds perceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put questions to them (to which they made answer as in other places), as, Whence came you? and, How got you into the way? and, By what means have you so persevered therein? for but few of them that begin to come hither, do show their face on these mountains. But when the shepherds heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable Mountains.

VOL XV.-9

THE MUNDANE EGG.

BY THOMAS BURNET.

[THOMAS BURNET was born in Yorkshire in 1635, and became a Fellow of Clare Hall, Cambridge, afterward removing to Christ's College. He was made Master of the Charterhouse in 1685; after the Revolution was chaplain and clerk of the closet to William III. He died in 1715. His Latin writings were highly esteemed, and his theory of the earth's formation (set forth below), given in "Telluris Theoria Sacra," excited much attention.]

INTRODUCTION.

SINCE I was first inclin'd to the Contemplation of Nature, and took pleasure to trace out the Causes of Effects, and the Dependence of one thing upon another in the visible Creation, I had always, methought, a particular Curiosity to look back into the Sources and Original of Things, and to view in my mind, so far as I was able, the Beginning and Progress of a Rising World.

And after some Essays of this Nature, and as I thought, not unsuccessful, I carried on my Enquiries further, to try whether this Rising World, when form'd and finish'd, would continue always the same; in the same Form, Structure, and Consistency; or what Changes it would successively undergo, by the continued Action of the same causes that first produc'd it; and, lastly, what would be its final Period and Consummation. This whole Series and Compass of Things taken together, I call'd a Course of Nature, or, a System of Natural Providence ; and thought there was nothing belonging to the external World more fit, or more worthy our Study and Meditation, nor any thing that would conduce more to discover the Ways of Divine Providence, and to shew us the Grounds of all true knowledge concerning Nature. And therefore, to clear up the several Parts of this Theory, I was willing to lay aside a great many other Speculations, and all those dry Subtilties with which the Schools and the Books of Philosophers are usually fill'd.

But when we speak of a Rising World, and the contemplation of it, we do not mean this of the Great Universe; for who can describe the Original of that vast Frame? But we speak of the Sublunary World, this Earth, and its Dependencies, which rose out of a Chaos about Six Thousand Years ago. And seeing it hath fallen to our Lot to act upon this Stage,

to have our present Home and Residence here, it seems most reasonable, and the Place design'd by Providence, where we should first employ our Thoughts, to understand the Works of God and Nature. We have accordingly, therefore, design'd in this Work to give an Account of the Original of the Earth, and of all the great and general Changes that it hath already undergone, or is henceforwards to undergo, till the Consummation of all things. For if from those Principles we have here taken, and that Theory we have begun in these two first Books, we can deduce with Success and Clearness the Origin of the Earth, and those States of it that are already past; following the same Thread, and by the Conduct of the same Theory, we will pursue its Fate and History thro' future Ages, and mark all the great Changes and Conversions that attend it while Day and Night shall last; that is, so long as it continues an Earth.

By the States of the Earth that are already past, we understand chiefly Paradise and the Deluge; Names well known, and as little known in their Nature. By the future States we understand the Conflagration, and what new Order of Nature may follow upon that, till the whole circle of Time and Providence be compleated. As to the first and past States of the Earth, we shall have little help from the Ancients or from any of the Philosophers, for the Discovery or Description of them: We must often tread unbeaten Paths, and make a Way where we do not find one; but it shall be always with a Light in our Hand, that we may see our Steps, and that those that follow us may not follow us blindly. There is no Sect of Philosophers that I know of that ever gave an Account of the Universal Deluge, or discover'd, from the Contemplation of the Earth, that there had been such a Thing already in Nature. 'Tis true, they often talk of an Alternation of Deluges and Conflagrations in this Earth, but they speak of them as Things to come; at least, they give no Proof or Argument of any that hath already destroyed the World. As to Paradise, it seems to be represented to us by the Golden Age; whereof the Ancients tell many Stories, sometimes very luxuriant, and sometimes very defective: For they did not so well understand the Difference betwixt the new-made Earth and the present, as to see what were the just Grounds of the Golden Age, or of Paradise; though they had many broken Notions concerning those Things, as to the Conflagration in particular. This hath always been