Great-heart. I perceive you knew him, for you have given very right character of him.

Hon. Knew him! I was a great companion of his; I as with him moft an end; when he first began to think what would come upon us hereafter I was with him. Great-heart. I was his guide from my master's house to e gate of the celeial city.

Then you knew him to be a troublefome one.

Great heart. I did fo, but I could very well bear it; for en of my calling are of entimes intrufted with the conuct of fuch as he was.

Mr. Fearing's troublesome pila grimage.

His behaviour at the flough of Defpond.

Hon. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and ow he managed himself under your conduct. Great-beart. Why, he was always afraid hat he should come fhort whither he had a efire to go. Every thing frightened him hat he heard any body fpeak of, that had he leaft appearance of oppofition in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the flough of Defpond for a month together; nor durft he, or all he faw feveral go over before him, enture, tho' many of them offered to lend him their hands. He would not go back neither. The celeftial city he faid, he fhould die if he came not to it, and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and ftumbled at every ftraw that any body caft in his way. Well, after he had lain the flough of Defpond a great while, as I have told you, one funshine morning, I don't know how, he ventured, and fo got over: But when he was over he would fcarce believe it. He had, I think, a flough of Defpond in his mind, a flough that he carried every where with him, or elfe he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate, you know what I mean, that ftands at the head of this way, and there he stood a good while before he would venture to knock. When the

gate was opened, he would give back and His behaviour, as* give place to others, and fay that he was the gate.

not worthy For all he got before fome to

the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would ftand fhaking and fhrinking, I dare fay it would have pitied one's heart to have feen him; nor would he go back again. At last he took the hammer that

hanged

door.

hanged at the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap o two; then one opened to him, but he fhrunk back as be fore. He that opened ftept out after him, and faid, Tho trembling one, what wanieft thou? with that he fell dow o the ground. He that fpoke to him wondered to fee him faint. He faid to him, Peace be to thee, op, for I hav fet open the door to thee; come in, for thou art mira With that he got up, and went in trembling; and when he was in, he was afhamd to fhew his face. Well, afte he had been entertained there a while, as you know how the manner is, he was bidden to go on his way, and alfo told the way he should take. So he went till he came to our houfe; but as he behaved himself at Ilis bebaviour at the gate, fo he did at my mafter the Interthe Interpreter's preter's door. He lay thereabouts in the cold a good while, before he would adventure to call, yet he would not venture to go back: And the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of neceffity in his bofem to my mafter to re ceive him, and grant him the comfort of his house, and alfo to allow him a ftout and valiant conductor, because he was himself fo chicken-hearted a man; and yet for all that he was afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man, he was almoft ftarved; yea, fo great was his dejection, that tho' he faw feveral others for knocking got in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I think, I looked out of the window; and perceiving a man to go up and down about the door, I went to him, and asked what he was; but, poor man, the water flood in his eyes; fo I perceived what he wanted. I went there fore in, and told it in the house, and we fhewed the things to our Lord; fo he fent me out again to entreat him to come in; but indeed I had hard work to do it. At laft he came in, and I will fay that for my Lord, he carried it wonderful loving to him. There were but but fome of it

How he was en- a few good bits at the table,

tertained there.

was laid upon his trencher.
fented the note, and my

Then he preLord looking thereon, faid his defire fhould be granted. So when he had been there a good while he feemed to get fome heart, and to be a little more comforted. For my mafter, you must know, is one of very tender bowels, efpecially to

them

hem that are afraid; wherefore he carried it fo towards im, as might tead moft to his encourage

nent. Well, when he had a fight of the He is a little enhings of the place, and was ready to take couraged at the is journey to go to the city, my Lord, as Interpreter's e did to Chriftian before, gave him a bot- house. le of fpirits, and fome comfortable things

> eat. Thus we fet forward, and I went before him; but he man was but of few words, only he would figh aloud. When we were come to where three fellows were hang8, he faid, That he doubted that that

jould be his end alio; only he feemed He was frightà dad when he faw the crofs and the fepul- ened at the Gibs hre. There I confess he defired to stay a bet, comforted ttle to look; and he feemed for a while at the cross. fter to be a little comforted. When he

ame at the hill Difficulty he made no stick at that, nor did le much fear the lions: For you must know that his troubles were not about fuch things as thefe: his fear was about is acceptance at last.

I got him in at the houfe Beautiful, I Dumpish at the hink before he was willing; alfo when he boufe Beautiful. was in I brought him acquainted with the

lamfels that were of the place, but he was afhamed to make himself much for company; he defired much to be alone, yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the fkreen to hear it: He also loved much to fee an cient things, and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me afterwards that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came laft, to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter; but that heurit not be fo bold as to afk. When we went from the houfe Beautiful

down the hill into the valley of Humilia- He went down tion, he went down as well as, ever I faw a into, and was man in my life, for he cared not how mean very pleasant in he was, fo he might be happy at last. Yea, the valley of I think there was a kind of fympathy be- Humiliation. twixt the valley and him; for I never faw

him better in all his pilgrimage than he was in that valley," Here he would lay down, embrace the ground, and kifs the very flowers that grew in this valley. He would now be up every morning by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro in the valley,

Be

Lam. 3. 29.

But when he came to the entrance or t valley of the Shadow of Death, I thoug I should have loft my man; not for that had any inclination to go back, that he a ways abhorred, but he was ready to die fear. O the hobgoblins will have m the hobgoblins will have me, cried he; a I could not beat him out on't. He ma fuch a noife, and fuch an outcry here, the had they but heard him, 'twas enough to encourage the to come and fall upon us.

Much perplexed in the valley of the Shadow of Death.

But this I took very great notice of,, that this valley as quiet when we went through it, as ever I knew it befo or fince. I fuppofe thofe enemies there had now a fpeci check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle an that Mr. Fearing was paffed over it.

It would be too tedious to tell of all; we will therefo only mention a paffage or two mor His behaviour at When he was come to Vanity-Fair, Vanity-Fair, thought he would have fought with all t

men in the fair; I feared there we ho have both been knocked on the head, fo hot was he again fooleries. Upon the inchanted ground he was also ver wakeful: But when he was come at the river, where w no bridge, there again he was in a heavy cafe: Now, now he faid, he fhould be drowned for ever, and fo nev fee that face with comfort, that he had come fo many mil to behold.

M

And here alfo I took notice of what was very remarkable the water of that river was lower at this time than ever faw it in all my life; fo he went over at last, not muc above wet-fhod. When he was going up to the gate, Great-heart began to take his leave of him, and to wi him a good reception above; fo he said, I all, I ha Then parted we afuuder, and I faw him no more.

Hon. Then it seems he was well at last.
Great-beart. Yes, yes, I never had doubt about him, b

Behold Vanity-Fair! the pilgrims there
Are chain'd and fton'a befide;

Even fo it was our Lord pass'd here, -
And on Mount Calvary dy'd.

W

was a man of choice fpirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made his life fo burdenfome to himself, and fo very troublesome to others. He was above many tender of fin; he was af: aid of doing injuries to others, that he often would deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend.

Hon. But what should be the reason that fuch a good man should be all his days fo much in the dark ?*

Great heart. There are two forts of rea

fons for it; one is, the wife God will have Reasons why have it fo, fome muft pipe, and fome mult good men are weep Now Mr. Fearing was one that in the dark. played upon the bafs. He and his fellows Mat. 11. 16, 17 found the fackbut, whofe notes are more 18. doleful than notes of other mufic are;

Though indeed fome fay the bafs is the ground of mufic: And for my part, I care not at all for that profeffion that begins not in heaviness of mind.-The first tring that the musician ufually touches is the bafs, when he intends to put all in tune; God alfo plays upon this ring first, whe when he fets the foul in tune for himself; only there was the imperfection of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon na other mufic but this, till towards his latter-end.

I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the wits of young readers, and becaufe, in the book of the revelations, the faved are compared

to a company of musicians that play apon Rev. 8. chap their trumpets and harps, and fing their 14. 2, 3. fongs before the throne

Hon. He was a very zealous wan, as one may fee by what relation you have given of him; difficulties, lion, or Vanity, he feared not at all; it was only fin, death, and hell that was to him a terror; because he had fome doubts about his intereft in that celestial country.

Great heart. You lay right; thofe tvere the things that were his troubles; and they. as you have well obferved, arofe from weakness of fpirit; as to the practical part of a pilgrim's life, I are believe that, as the

proverb is, he could have bit a firebrand, A cafe about
had it flood in his way: But thofe things him.
with which he was opprefed no man evel

yet could shake off with cafe.