and asked what he was? But, poor man, the water stood in his eyes; so I perceived what he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in the house, and we shewed the thing to our Lord; so he sent me out again to entreat him to come in, but I dare say I had hard work to do it. At last he came in, and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it wonderful lovingly to him.

HOW HE WAS
ENTERTAINED

THERE.

There were but a few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid upon his trencher. Then he presented the note, and my Lord looked thereon, and said his desire should be granted.

HE IS A LITTLE
ENCOURAGED AT

THE INTERPRET-
ER'S HOUSE.

So when he had been there a

good while, he seemed to get some heart, and to be a little more comfortable; for my Master, you must know, is one of very tender bowels, especially to them that are afraid; wherefore he carried it so towards him as might tend most to his encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the City, my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of 'spirits, and some comfortable things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went before him, but the man was but of few words, only he would sigh aloud.

HE WAS GREATLY

SAW THE GIBBET,

BUT CHEERY WHEN

When we were come to where the

AFRAID WHEN HE three fellows were hanged, he said, That he doubted that that would be HE SAW THE CROSS. his end also. Only he seemed glad when he saw the Cross and the Sepulchre. There, I confess, he desired to stay a little to look; and he seemed, for a while after, to be a little cheery. When he came to the hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that,

nor did he much fear the Lions; for you must know that his trouble was not about such things as these; his fear was about his acceptance at last.

HOUSE BEAUTIFUL.

I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think, before he was willing; also, when he was in, I brought him acquainted with the damsels of the place; but he was ashamed to make himself much in company. He desired much to be alone; yet he always DUMPISH AT THE loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it; he also loved much to see ancient things, and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me afterward that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came last, to wit, at the Gate and that of the Interpreter, but that he durst. not be so bold as to ask.

When we went also from the house Beautiful down the hill into the Val

PLEASANT IN THE
VALLEY OF HU-
MILIATION.

ley of Humiliation, he went down as well as ever I saw a man in my life; for he cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last; yea, I think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that Valley and him, for I never saw him better in all his pilgrimage than he was in that Valley.

3

Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss 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.

But when he was come to the en

trance of the Valley of the Shadow of

MUCH PERPLEXED
IN THE VALLEY

Death, I thought I should have lost OF THE SHADOW

my man; not for that he had any in

3 Lam. iii. 27-29.

OF DEATH.

clination to go back, that he always abhorred; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh! the hobgoblins will have me, the hobgoblins will have me, cried he; and I could not beat him out on 't. He made such a noise, and such an outcry here, that, had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall

upon us.

But this I took very great notice of, that this Valley was as quiet, when we went through it, as ever I knew it before or since. I suppose those enemies here had now a special check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle, until Mr. Fearing had passed over it. It would be too tedious to tell you of all; we will therefore only mention a passage or two more. When

HIS BEHAVIOUR AT VANITY FAIR.

he was come to Vanity Fair, I thought

he would have fought with all the men in the Fair; I feared there we should have been both knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the Enchanted Ground he was very wakeful. But when he was come at the river, where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said, he should be drowned for ever, and so never see that Face with comfort that he had come so many miles to behold.

And here also I took notice of what was very remarkable: the water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life; so he went over at last, not much above wet-shod. When he was going HIS BOLDNESS AT up to the Gate, Mr. Great-heart began to take his leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above; so he said, I shall, I shall. Then parted we asunder, and I saw him no more.

LAST.

Hon. Then it seems he was well at last.

Great-heart. Yes, yes, I never had doubt about him. He was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome to himself, and so troublesome to others. He was, above many, tender of sin; he was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he often would deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend.5

Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all his days so much in the dark?

REASONS WHY

SO IN THE DARK.

Great-heart. There are two sorts of reasons for it: one is, the wise God GOOD MEN ARE will have it so; some must pipe, and some must weep. Now Mr. Fearing was one that played upon the base; he and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than the notes of other music are; though, indeed, some say the base is the ground of music; and, for my part, I care not at all for that profession that begins not in heaviness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches is the base, when he intends to put all in tune: God also plays upon this string first, when He sets the soul in tune for Himself. Only there was the imperfection of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon no other music but this, till towards his latter end.

(I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the wits of young readers, and because, in the book of the Revelation, the saved are compared to a company of musicians, that play upon their

4 Psal. lxxxviii.

5 Rom. xiv. 21. 1 Cor. viii. 13.

6 Matt. xi. 16-18.

trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne.")

Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what relation you have given of him. Difficulties, Lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at all; 'twas only Sin, Death, and Hell, that were to him a terror, because he had some doubts about his interest in that Celestial Country.

A CLOSE ABOUT
HIM.

Great-heart. You say right; those were the things that were his troublers; and they, as you have well observed, arose from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a Pilgrim's life. I dare believe, that, as the proverb is, "He could have bit a firebrand, had it stood in his way." But the things with which he was oppressed, no man ever yet could shake off with ease.

CHRISTIANA'S

Then said Christiana, This relation SENTENCE. of Mr. Fearing has done me good: I thought nobody had been like me; but I see there was some semblance betwixt this good man and me; only we differed in two things. His troubles were so great that they broke out, but mine I kept within. His also lay so hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for entertainment; but my trouble was always such as made me knock the louder.

MERCY'S

Mercy. If I might also speak my heart, I SENTENCE. must say that something of him has also dwelt in me. For I have ever been more afraid of the lake, and the loss of a place in Paradise, than I have

7 Rev. viii. 1; xiv. 2, 3.