\<* \ -% ^\ :rr* /% ^ «w h AS I SJ ill , I DREAMED A DREAM, ALTEMUS' YOUNG PEOPLES LIBRARY t THE Pilgrims Progress BY JOHN BUNYAN WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS^ 3t*Zrk PHILADELPHIA HENRY ALTEMUS 1895 I IN UNIFORM BINDING PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED ROBINSON CRUSOE BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS A CHILD'S STORY OF THE BIBLE A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS Copyrighted, 1S95, by Henry Altemus HENRY ALTEMUS, MANUFACTURER PHILADELPHIA PREFACE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS is the most popular stoiy- book in the world. With the exception of the Bible it has been translated into more languages than any other book ever printed. John Bunyan is one of the two or three greatest writers of pure English. His style is a perfect model of simple, straight, plain and delightful writing. A demand seems to exist for an edition of this established work more suited to young people with our latter day tastes. The story is here told in Bunyan' s precise words. In a very few instances the text has been shortened but in no case mutilated; and his teachings and all the doctrinal features of his marvellous allegory are untouched. The first edition of the book was issued in 1678, and more than 100,000 copies were sold in the twenty years following its appearance. It is hoped that the present copiously illustrated edition may lead young readers to an appreciation of the author, and a further acquaintance with the facts in his eventful life. He composed and published many other works, some of great practical usefulness ; but these were eclipsed by the lasting fame and popularity attained by this his greatest production. THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand, Thus for to write, I did not understand That I at all should make a little book In such a mode ; nay, I had undertook To make another ; which, when almost done, Before I was aware, I this begun. And thus it was: I, writing of the way And race of saints in this our gospel-day, Fell suddenly into an allegory About their journey and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down: This done. I twenty more had in my crown ; And then again began to multiply, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that I already am about. Well, so I did; but yet I did not think To show to all the world my pen and ink In such a mode; I only thought to make I knew not what ; nor did I undertake. Thereby to please my neighbor ; no, not I ; I did it mine own self to gratify. viii THE A UTHORS APOLOG Y FOR HIS BOOK. Neither did I but vacant seasons spend In this my scribble; nor did I intend But to divert myself, in doing this, . From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. Thus I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. For having now my method by the end, Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penn d It down ; until at last it came to be, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well when I had thus put my ends together, I showed them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify; And some said, Let them live; some Let them die: Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so: Some said, It might do good; others said, No. Now was I in a strait, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me: At last I thought, Since you are thus divided, I print it will; and so the case decided. For, thought I, some I see would have it done. Though others in that channel do not run: To prove, then, who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. I further thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it thus to gratify, I did not know, but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight: For those which were not for its coming forth, I said to them, Offend you I am loath; Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, Forbear to judge, till you do further see. THE A UTHORS APOLOGY FOR HIS WOK. ix If that thou wilt not read, let it alone ; Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone ; Yea, that I might them better moderate, I did too with them thus expostulate : May I not write in such a style as this ? In such a method, too, and yet not miss My end, thy good? Why may it not be done ? Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none. Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either, But treasures up the fruit they yield together ; Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit None can distinguish this from that; they suit Her well when hungry ; but if she be full, She spews out both, and makes their blessing null. You see the ways the fisherman doth take To catch the fish ; what engines doth he make. Behold ! how he engageth all his wits ; Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets: Yet fish there be that neither hook nor line, Nor snare, nor net, nor engine, can make thine: They must be groped for, and be tickled too, Or they will not be catch' d, what e'er you do. How does the fowler seek to catch his game ? By divers means, all which one cannot name: His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light, and bell; He creeps, he goes, he stands ; yea, who can tell Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these Will make him master of what fowls he please. Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this, Yet, if he does so, that bird he will miss. If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found, too, in an oyster shell: If things that promise nothing do contain What better is than gold, who will disdain, THE A UTHORS APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. That have an inkling of it there to look, That they may find it ? Now, my little book (Though void of all these paintings that may make It with this or the other man to take) Is not without those things that do excel What do in brave but empty notions dwell. Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, That this your book will stand when soundly tried. Why, what's the matter? It is dark ! What though i But it is feigned. What of that, I trow? Some men, by feigned words, as dark as mine, Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine ! But they want solidness. Speak, man, thy mind ! They drown the weak ; metaphors make us blind. Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to men : But must I needs want solidness, because By metaphors I speak? Were not God's laws, His gospel laws, in olden time held forth By shadows, types, and metaphors ? Yet loath Will any sober man be to find fault With them, lest he be found for to assault The Highest Wisdom. No; he rather stoops. And seeks to find out what by pins and loops, By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams, By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs God speaketh to him ; and happy is he That finds the light and grace that in them be. Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude That I want solidness, that I am rude: All things solid in show, not solid be: All things in parable despise not we, Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, And things that good are, of our souls bereave. My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. THE A UTHORS APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. xi The prophers used much by metaphors To set forth truth ; yea whoso considers Christ, His apostles too, shall plainly see The truths to this day in such mantles be. Am I afraid to say that Holy Writ, Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit, Is everywhere so full of all these things (Dark figures, allegories) ? yet there springs From that same book that lustre, and those rays Of light, that turn our darkest nights to days. Come, let my carper to his life now look, And find there darker linest han in my book He findeth any ; yea, and let him know, • That in his best things there are worse lines too. May we but stand before impartial men, To his poor one I dare adventure ten That they will take my meaning in these lines Far better than his lies in silver shrines. Come, Truth, although in swaddling-clouts I find, Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind; Pleases the understanding, makes the will Submit; the memory, too, it doth fill With what both our imagination please ; Likewise it tends our troubles to appease. Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use, And old wives' fables he is to refuse ; But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid The use of parables, in which lay hid That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. Let me add one word more: Oh, man of God! Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress ? Or that I had in things been more express ? To those that are my betters, as is fit, Three things let me propound, then I submit: xii THE A UTHORS APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. i. I find not that I am denied the use Of this my method, so I no abuse Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude In handling figure or similitude In application ; but all that I may- Seek the advance of truth, this or that way. Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave (Examples too, and that from them that have God better pleased, by their words or ways, Than any man that breatheth nowadays) Thus to express my mind, thus to declare Things unto thee that excellentest are. 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write Dialogue-wise ; yet no man doth them slight For writing so ; indeed, if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use To that intent ; but yet let truth be free To make her sallies upon thee and me, Which way it pleases God ; for who knows how Better than He that taught us first to plough, To guide our minds and pens for His design ? And He makes base things usher in Divine. 3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places, Hath semblance with this method, where the cases Do call for one thing to set forth another: Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother Truth's golden beams: nay, by this method may Make it cast forth its rays as light as day. And now, before I do put up my pen, I'll show the profit of my book, and then Commit both me and it unto that Hand That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand. This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes The man that seeks the everlasting prize: It shows yon whence he comes, whither he goes; What he leaves undone ; also what he does ; THE A UTHORS APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK, xm It also shows you how he runs and runs, Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes. It shows, too, who set out for life amain, As if the lasting crown they would obtain. Here also you may see the reason why They lose their labor, and like fools do die. This book will make a traveller of thee, If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be ; It will direct thee to the Holy Land, If thou wilt its direction understand ; Yea, it will make the slothful active be ; The blind also delightful things to see. Art thou for something rare and profitable, Or wouldst thou see a truth within a fable ? Art thou forgetful ? Wouldst thou remember From New-year's day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies; they will stick like burs, And may be to the helpless comforters. This book is writ in such a dialect As may the minds of listless men affect ; It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy ? Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? Wouldst thou read riddles and their explanation, Or else be drowned in thy contemplation ? Dost thou love picking meat ? Or wouldst thou see A man i' the clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? Wouldst thou be in a dream and yet not sleep ? Or wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep ? Wouldst thou lose thyself and catch no harm, And find thyself again without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou knowest not what, And yet know whether thou art blest or not, By reading the same lines? Oh, then, come hither, And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. JOHN BUN VAX. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. AS I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep ; and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein ; and, as he read, he wept and trembled ; and, not being able longer to contain he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, " What shall I do?" In this plight, therefore, -he went home and retrained himself as long as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble increased. Where- 12 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. fore at length he brake his mind to his wife and chil- dren ; and thus he began to talk to them : O my dear wife, said he, and you my children, I am undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me ; moreover, I am for certain informed that this our city will be burned with fire from heaven ; in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee, my wife, and you, my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except some way of escape can be found. At this his relations were sore amazed ; not for that they believed that what he said to them was true, but because they thought that some frenzy distemper had got into his head ; therefore, it drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. But the night w T as as troublesome to him as the day ; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So, when the morning was come, they asked how he did. He told them, Worse and worse : and set to talking to them again ; but they began to be hardened. The also thought to drive away his dis- temper by harsh and surly carriages to him ; some- times they would deride, sometimes chide, and some- times they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray for and pity them, and also to condole his own misery ; he would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes read- ing and sometimes praying : and thus for some days he spent his time. Now, I saw, when he was walking in the fields, that he was reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind ; and, as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, " What shall I do to be saved ? " I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would run ; yet he stood still, because, as I per- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. *3 ceived, he could not tell in which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist com- ing to him, who asked, Wherefore dost thou cry ? He answered, Sir, I perceive by the book in my hand, that I am con- demned to die, and after that to come to judg- ment ; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second. Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attend- ed with so many evils ? The man answered, Be- cause I fear that this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophet. And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from thence to execution ; and the thought of these things make me cry. Then said Evangelist, If this be by condition, why standest thou still ? He answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll, and there was written within, "Flee from the wrath to come. HE BEGAN TO PRAY. H THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. The man, therefore, read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must 1 fly ? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you see yon- der wicket-gate ? The man said, No. ' Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light ? He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto ; so shalt thou see the gate ; at which, when thou knock- est, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now, he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and chil- dren, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return ; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on crying, Life ! life ! eternal life ! So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the middle of the plain. The neighbors also came out to see him run, and, as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return ; pliable. an d, among those that did so, there ^were two that resolved to fetch him back by force. The name of the one was Obstinate, and the name of the other was Pliable. Now, by this time, the man was a good distance from them ; but they pursued him, and in a little time they THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. *5 overtook him. Then said the man, Neighbors, where- fore are ye come ? They said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can by no means be ; you dwell in the City of Destruction, the place where I also was born ; I see it to be so; and, dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a place that burns with fire and brimstone ; be content, good neigh- bors, and go along with me. Obstinate. What ! and leave our friends and our comforts be- hind us ? Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that all which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy, and if you will go along with me, you shall fare as I myself; for there where I go, is enough and to spare. Come away and prove my words. Obstinate. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them? Christian. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, un- obstinate. 1 6 THE PILGRnrS PROGRESS. defiled, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up safe in heaven, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that dilig.L-: -eek it. Read it so, it you will, in my book. stinate. Tush! away with your book; will you go back with us or no ? Christian. No, no: I. because I have laid my hand to the plough. Obstinate. Come, then, neighbor Pliable, let us turn and go home without him ; there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that, when they take a fancy, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason. Pliable. Then, don't revile; if what good Christian is true, the things he looks after are better than ours : my heart inclines to go with my neighbor. Obstinate. What! mure fools still ! Be ruled by me, and go back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick fel- low will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be wise. Christian. Nay, but do thou come with thy neigh- bor Pliable; there are to be had such things as I spoke of, and many more glories besides. If you believe me not, read in this book; and for the truth of what is pressed therein, behold, ail is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it. Pliable. Well, neighbor Obstinate, I begin to come to a point; I intend to go along and ca^ t with this good man; but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired pla. Christian. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about the way. Pliable. Come, then, good neighbor, let us be go- ing. Then they went together. THE PILGRIM' S PROGRESS. 1 7 Obstinate. And I will go back to my place. I will be no companion of such misled, fantastical fellows. Now, I saw in my dream, that, when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the plain ; and thus they began their discourse. Christian. Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me. Had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back. Pliable. Come, neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two here, tell me now further what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. Christian. I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them with my tongue, but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my book. Pliable. And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true ? Christian. Yes, verily; for it was made by Him that cannot lie. Pliable. Well said; what things are they ? Christian. There is an endless kingdom to be in- habited, and everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom forever. Pliable. Well said; and what else ? Christian. There are crowns of glory to be given us, and garments that will make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven. Pliable. This is very pleasant; and what else ? Christian. There shall be no more crying, nor sor- row ; for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes. I* 18 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Pliable. And what company shall we have there ? Christian. There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them. There also you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands that have gone before us, none of them are hurtful, but loving and holy; every one walk- ing in the sight of God, and in his presence with accept- ance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns; there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden harps; there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and clothed with immorality as with a garment. Pliable. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart. But are these things to be enjoyed ? How shall we get to be sharers thereof ? Christian. The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded that in this book ; the substance of which is, If we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely. Pliable. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things; come on, let us mend our pace. Christian. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is on my back. Now, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk they drew near to a very miry slough, that was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond. Here, therefore, they wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with dirt ; and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back began to sink in the mire. Pliable. Ah ! neighbor Christian, where are you now ? christian STRJJGQIWG in Tm<: si.oicii, 20 THE PILGRIMS PROGRJ Truly, said Christian, I do not know. Pliable. At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow. Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of ? If we have such ill ed at our first setting out, what may ect be- xt this and our journey's end ? V : out again th my life, you shall possess the brave country alone. And, with tha:. he a desperate struggle or r and got out of the mire on the side next to his own house : so away he went, and Christian saw him no more. Wherefore Christian was left :o tumble in the Slough of I ] alone ; but still he endeavored to struggle to tha: still further from his own house, and next : the wicket-gate : the which he did, but could net get out be. f the burden that was upon his back ; but I beheld in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him, What he did there ? Christian. Sir, I ^vas bid go this way by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder ga that I might escape the wrath to come ; and as I going thither I fell in here. Help. But why did not you look for the steps : Christian. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in. Help then gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way. Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, since over this place is the way from the City of Destruction to yonder gate, why is it :'":at this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security ? And he said unto me. This miry slough THE PIL GRIM' S PRO GRESS. 2 1 is such a place as cannot be mended ; it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond ; for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts and discouragements, all of which get together, and settle in this place. And this is the rea- son of the badness of this ground. It is not the pleas- ure of the King that this place should remain so bad. His laborers have, by the direction of His Majesty's surveyors, been for over sixteen hundred years em- ployed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might be mended : yea, and to my knowledge, here have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand cartloads, yea, millions of good instructions, that have been brought from all places of the King's dominions, and they say they are the best materials to make good ground of the place, if so be it might have been mended ; but it is the Slough of Despond still, and so will be when they have done what they can. True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and substantial steps, placed even through the very midst of this slough; but as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth at change of weather, these steps are hardly seen ; and men, through the diz- ziness of their heads, step beside, and are bemired not- withstanding the steps be there ; but the ground is good when they are once in the gate. Now, I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his house again, so that his neighbors came to visit him ; and some of them called him wise man for coming back, and some called him fool for haz- arding himself with Christian ; others again did mock at his cowardliness saying, Surely, since you began to 22 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. venture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficulties. So Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. Now, as Christian was walking by himself, he espied one afar off, come crossing over the field to meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way of each other. The gentleman's name was Mr. Wordly Wiseman ; he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very great town, hardby from whence Chris- tian came. This man then, meeting with Christian, and having heard of his setting forth from the City of Destruction, as it was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but, also it began to be the town talk in some other places. Mr. Worldly Wiseman, beholding his laborious going, and observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with Christian. Worldly. How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened manner ? Christian. A. burdened manner, indeed, as ever poor creature had ! And whereas you ask me, Whither away ? I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder wicket- gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put into a way to get rid of my heavy burden. Worldly. Hast thou a wife and children ? Christian. Yes ; but I am so ladden with this bur- den, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as for- merly ; methinks I am as if I had none. Worldly. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give thee counsel ? Christian. If it be good, I will ; for I stand in need of good counsel. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 23 Worldly. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get rid of thy burden ; for thou wilt never be WORLDLY WISEMAN. settled in thy mind till then ; nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessing which God has bestowed upon thee till then. 24 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christian. I seek to be rid of this heavy burden ; but get it off myself, I cannot ; nor is there any man in our country that can take it off my shoulders ; so I am going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of it. Worldly. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden ? Christian. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honorable person ; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. Worldly. I beshrew him for his counsel ! there is not a more dangerous and troublesome way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee ; and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive, already ; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon thee ; but that slough is the beginning of the sor- rows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear me, I am older than thou ; thou art like to meet with, in the way which thou goest, weariness, pain, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, dark- ness, and death. These things are certainly true, hav- ing been confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a stranger ? Christian. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things which you have mentioned ; nay, methinks I care not what I meet with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliver- ance from my burden. Worldly. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? Christian. By reading this book in my hand. Worldly. I thought so ; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak men, who, meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into distractions, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 25 which do not only unman men, as thine, I perceive has done thee, but run them upon desperate ventures to ob- tain they know not what. Christian. I know what I would obtain • it is ea