then said he unto them, Matthew, be thou like Matthew the publican, not in vice, but in virtue. Matt. x. 3. Samuel, saith he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Ps. xcix. 6. Joseph, saith he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that fleeth from temptation. Gen. xxxix. And, James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord. Acts i. 13, 14. Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her town and her kindred to come along with Christiana (Ruth i. 16, 17) and with her sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy name: by mercy shalt thou be sustained and carried through all those difficulties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither where thou shalt look the Fountain of mercy in the face with comfort.

All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very well pleased, and smiled upon his companions.

Now as they walked together the guide asked the old gentleman if he did not know one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage out of his parts?

Honest. Yes, very well, said he. He was a man that had the root of the matter in him; but he was one of the most troublesome pilgrims that I ever met with in all my days.*

Great-heart. I perceive you knew him, for you have given a very right character of him. Honest. Knew him! I was a great companion of his: I was with him most an end; when he first began to think of what would come upon us hereafter I was with him.

Great-heart. I was his guide from my Master's house to the gate of the Celestial City. Honest. Then you knew him to be a trouble

30me one.

Great-heart. I did so; but I could very well bear it, for men of my calling are oftentimes entrusted with the conduct of such as he was.

Honest. Well, then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed himself under your conduct.

Great-heart. Why he was always afraid he should come short whither he had a desire to go. Every thing frighted him that he heard any body speak of that had but the least appearance of opposition in it. I heard that he lay roaring at the slough of Despond for above

* Fearing pilgrims, though perplexed in themselves and troublesome to others, are yet to be cherished and encouraged, as they have the root of the matter in them-faith in Jesus, hope towards God, fear of

| a month together: nor durst be, for all he saw several go over before him, venture, though they, many of them, offered to lend him their hand. He would not go back again neither. The Celestial City! He said he should die if he came not to it, and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw that any body cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshiny morning, I don't know how, he ventured, and so got over; but when he was over he would scarce believe it. He had, I think, a slough of despond in his mind--a slough that he carried every where with him, or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate (you know what I mean) that stands at the head of this way; and there also he stood a good while before he would venture to knock. When the gate was opened he would give back and give place to others, and say that he was not worthy; for all he got before some to the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would stand shaking and shrinking; I dare say it would have pitied one's heart to have seen him; nor would he go back again. At last he took the hammer that hanged at the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two; then one opened to him, but he shrunk back as before. He that opened stepped out after him and said, "Thou trembling one, what wantest thou?"

With that he fell to the

ground. He that spake to him wondered to see him so faint. He said to him, "Peace be to thee; up, for I have set open the door to thee; come in, for thou art blessed." With that he got up and went in trembling; and when that he was in he was ashamed to show his face. Well, after that he had been entertained there awhile, (as you know how the manner is,) he was bid to go on his way, and also told the way he should take. So he went till he came to our house, but as he behaved himself at the gate, so he did at my Master the Interpreter's door. He lay thereabout in the cold a good while before he would venture to call, yet he would not go back; and the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my Master, to receive him and grant him the comfort of his house, and also to allow him a stout and valiant conductor, because he was himself so chickenhearted a man; and yet for all that he was

offending him, and a desire to walk in his ways and please him. We must bear the burdens of such, and so fulfil the law of Christ. Gal. vi. 2.

afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man! he was almost starved: yea, so great was his dejection that, though he saw several others for knocking get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I think, I looked out of the window, and, perceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I went out to him 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 showed the things 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 loving to him. There were but a few good bits at the table but some of them was laid upon his trencher. Then he presented the note; and my Lord looked thereon and said his desire should be granted. So, when he had been there a good while, he seemed to get some heart and to be a little more comforted. 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 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.

When we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, he said that he doubted that that would be 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 comforted. When we came at 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.*

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 that were of the place, but he was ashamed to make

* See all through this character what a conflict there was between fear and the influence of grace. Though it may not be the most comfortable, yet the end of Mr. Fearing was very joyful. Oh what a godly jealousy displayed itself all through his life! Better this than proud, vain-glorious confidence.

himself much for company; he desired much to be alone, yet he always 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 we came last-to wit, at the gate and that of the Interpreter-but that he durst not be so bold as to ask.

When he went also from the house Beautiful down the hill into the Valley 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.† Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. Lam. iii. 27, 29. 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 entrance of the Valley of the Shadow of Death I thought I should have lost my man: not for that he had inclination 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 outery 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 here had now a spe cial check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over it.

It would be too tedious to tell you of all; we will therefore only mention a passage or two more. When he was come to Vanity Fair I thought he would have fought with all the men in the fair: I feared there we both should have been knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the Enchanted Ground he also 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

The Valley of Humiliation suits well with fearing hearts.

Fearing souls dwell much, early and late, the Valley of Meditation.

|| Here is a glorious display of a fearing heart. Full of courage against evil, and fired with zeal for God's glory.

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 wetshod. When he was going up to the gate I began to take my 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.

Honest. Then it seems he was well at last.

Great-heart. Yes, yes. I never had a 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 very troublesome to others. Ps. lxxxviii. He was, above many, tender of sin; he was so afraid of doing injuries to others that he would. often deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend.† Rom. xiv. 11; 1 Cor. viii. 13.

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

Great-heart. There are two sorts of reasons for it: one is, The wise God will have it so; some must pipe, and some must weep, (Matt. xi. 16, 18;) now Mr. Fearing was one that played upon the bass. He and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than the notes of other music are; though indeed some say the bass 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 bass 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 this 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 Revelations the saved are compared to a company of musicians, that

Oh how glorious is our Lord! As thy day is, ( pilgrim, so shall thy strength be. Even the river of death, though there be no bridge to go over, yet faith makes one: and the Lord of faith makes the waters low, to suit the state of his beloved ones.

Oh this is a blessed spirit! Ye who are strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, study to excel herein.

Here is a very striking lesson for professors. Talk

play upon their trumpets and harps and sing their songs before the throne.]

Honest. He was a very zculous mañ, as one may see by what relation you have given of him. Difficulties, lions, or Vanity Fair he feared not at all: it was only sin, death, and hell that were to him a terror; because he had some doubts about his interest in that Celestial Country.

Great-heart. You say right; those were the things that were his troubles; 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 fire-brand, had it stood in his way;' but those things with which he was oppressed no man ever yet could shake off with

ease.

Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. Fearing has done me good: I thought nobody had been like me; but I see there was some resemblance betwixt this good man and I; only we differ in two things: his troubles were so great that they brake 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 troubles were always such as made me knock the louder.

Mercy. If I might also speak my mind, I 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 been at the loss of other things. Oh, thought I, may I have the happiness to have a habitation there, it is enough though I part with all the world to win it.

Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was far from having that within me that accompanies salvation; but if it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me?

No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always grace where there is the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, there is no grace where there is no fear of God.

not of your great knowledge, rich experience, comfortable frames and joyful feelings; all are vain and delusive if the Gospel has not a holy influence upon your practice. On the other hand, be not dejected if you are not as yet favoured with these; for if a holy fear of God and a godly jealousy over yourselves possess your heart, verily you are a partaker of the grace of Christ, and if faithful, soon you shall exult in the sunshine of his love.

Great-heart. Well said, James; thou hast hit the mark; for "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom;" and, to be sure, they that want the beginning have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell:

"Much, Master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, and wast afraid

Of doing any thing, while here,
That would have thee betray'd:
And didst thou fear the lake and pit?
Would others did so too!

For as for them that want thy wit,
They do themselves undo."

Great-heart. But what grounds had he for so saying?

Honest. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant.

Great-heart. Pr'ythee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars.

Honest. Yes, more than once or twice: but he would always be like himself, self-willed. He neither cared for man, nor argument, nor example; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and nothing else could he be got to.*

Great-heart. Pray, what principles did he hold? for I suppose you can tell.

Honest. He held that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues of the pilgrims, and that if he did both he should be certainly saved.

Great-heart. How, if he had said, It is possible for the best to be guilty of the vices as well as partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed. For indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive.† But this, I perceive, is not the thing: but if I understand you right, your meaning is that he was of that opinion that it was allowable so to be.

Honeɛt. Ay, ay, so I mean; and so he believed and practised.

* Self-will ever accompanies ignorance of ourselves and of the truth, and is generally attended with licentious principles and practices.

This is a solid scriptural definition; pray mind it. Here, it is evident, a condition must be admitted; and happy is the Christian who keeps closest to these conditions, in order to enjoy peace of conscience and joy of heart in Christ.

Honest. So I will. He said to have to do with other men's wives had been practised by

do it. He said to have more women than one was a thing that Solomon practised; and therefore he could do it. He said that Sarah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did Rahab; and therefore he could do it. He said that the disciples went at the bidding of their Master and took away the owner's ass; and therefore he could do so too. He said that Jacob got the inheritance of his father in a way of guile and dissimulation; and therefore he could do so too.‡

Great-heart. High base indeed! and are you sure he was of this opinion?

Honest. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, bring arguments for it, &c. Great-heart. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the world!

Honest. You must understand me rightly; he did not say that any man might do this; but that those that had the virtues of those that did such things might also do the same.

Great-heart. But what more false than such a conclusion? for this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind; or if because a child, by the blast of wind or for that it stum

That heart which is under the teaching and influence of the grace of God will detest such horrid notions, and cry out against them. God forbid that ever I should listen one moment to such diabolical sentiments for they are hatched in hell and propagated on earth by the father of lies.

bled at a stone, fell down and defiled itself in mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. Who could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust? But what is written must be true: "They stumbled at the word, being disobedient; whereunto also they were appointed." 1 Pet. ii. 8. His supposing that such may have the godly man's virtues who addict themselves to his vices, is also a delusion as strong as the other. "To eat up the sin of God's people" (Hos. iv. 8) is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues. Nor can I believe that one that is of this opinion can at present have faith or love in him. But I know you have made strong objections against him; pr'ythee what can he say for himself?

Honest. Why, he says, to do this by way of opinion seems abundantly more honest than to do it and yet hold contrary to it in opinion.

Great-heart. A very wicked answer; for, though to let loose the bridle to lusts while our opinions are against such things is bad, yet to sin and plead a toleration so to do is worse: the one stumbles beholders accidentally, the other leads them into the snare.

Honest. There are many of this man's mind that have not this man's mouth; and that makes going on pilgrimage of so little esteem as it is.

Great-heart. You have said the truth, and it is to be lamented; but he that feareth the King of paradise shall come out of them all.

Christiana. There are strange opinions in the world: I know one that said it was time enough to repent when he came to die.

Great-heart. Such are not over-wise: that man would have been loth, might he have had a week to run twenty miles for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last hour of that week.

Honest. You say right; and yet the general. ity of them that count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. I am, as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many a day, and I have taken notice of many things.* I have seen some that set out as if they would drive all the world afore them, who yet have, in a few days, died as they in the wilderness, and so never got sight of the promised land. I have seen some that have promised nothing at first setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought could not have lived another day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims. I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again have, after a little time, run just as fast back again. I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pilgrim's life at first, that, after a while, have spoken as much against it. I have heard some, when they first set out for paradise, say positively, "There is such a place," who, when they have been almost there, have come back again and said, "There is none." I have heard some vaunt what they would do in case they should be opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim's way, and ull.

came one running to meet them, and said, "Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love life shift for yourselves, for the robbers are before you."

Then said Mr. Great-heart, They be the three that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, said he, we are ready for them. So they went on their way. Now they looked at every turning when they should have met with the

Pray, attentively mind and deeply consider the six following observations: they are just; they are daily confirmed to our observations in the conduct of different professors. Study and pray to improve them to your soul's profit.

heart, or whether they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims.†

Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, "There is one a little before us, where a very honourable disciple, one Gaius, dwells." Rom. xvi. 23. So they all concluded to turn in thither, and the rather because the old gentleman gave him so good a report. So when they came to the door they

It is a blessed thing to take every alarm and to be on our guard. Hereby many dangers are avoided and many evils prevented. Watch! is the word of the Captain of our salvation.