he cries up what he calls practical preaching, because he knows that all men, whether Christians, heathens, Mahometans, or Jews, believers or unbelievers, will speak favorably of a good moral life; and according to their own construction of the phrase, will be in favor of practical preaching. But you will find more of the same fraternity in the town of Vanity, if you stop there. Your late fellow-travellers were well pleased with his preaching, I suppose.

Th. I should conclude so, from what I know of their sentiments; but we did not ask them. We did not meet with them again till we came into this valley, when they came in by the road that enters this from the left hand.

Ste. Then they called at the new house, just at the top of the hill Difficulty, which is kept by Hypocrisy and her sisters. Most of those who come into the way by the stile of the Hypocrite's Hope, call at that house; and they inveigle some true pilgrims too, and by their arts get them under their influence for a time. How did you escape them? They seldom let any pass without trying to persuade them to go in.

Ard. We did not entirely escape them. For I was so inconsiderate as to be inclined to go in, at the first invitation, and urged my brother with me, against his better judgment.

Th. And I consented to go in, while yet I was not satisfied that it was the right house.

Ste. You were both to blame. You should have consulted your books, and taken heed to the directions contained in them. But how did you get away? Why did they not prevail upon you to take the left hand path?

Th. We were not pleased with their conversation in the evening; and so after spending the night in reading our books, and in crying to our King for forgiveness and direction, we left the house as soon as it was light in the morning, without regarding the cries of the porter, and not having seen the mistresses of the house.

ance.

Ste. You have great reason to be thankful for your deliverIt is not often that any get out of their hands with so little trouble. For though they profess unbounded charity, and liberality of sentiment, and a willingness to let every one choose freely his own place of entertainment, and disclaim the idea of retaining any against their will-all this is intended to influence travellers to come to their house, and to persuade them to stay contentedly. But if any seem to manifest a wish to get away from under their influence and control, the whole family is at once roused to oppose it. All the arts of flattery, persuasion, and entreaty, are made use of, and every obstacle which can be invented, is thrown in their way. And if, after

all, any will abandon them, he is sure to incur the displeasure of the whole family; and to be followed through the whole of his journey with the most unkind insinuations and reports against his character. But come; tell me all your adventures since you set out, and how you came to set out on pilgrimage.

So Thoughtful and Ardent related to Stephanas their whole history; and then begged the favor of hearing from him a relation of his own, to which request he readily assented.

CHAPTER XV.

THEN Stephanas related his history, as follows:

I was born in this place, of parents who kept this house before me; and was early taught to read the King's statute book, and to listen to the instructions of the King's ambassadors. Nothing worthy of being mentioned occurred in the early part of my life, till I was of age, only that I was quite weary of this valley, and of such a retired life as my parents led, and longed to see more of the world. I had become also very neglectful of the King's book, which I avoided when I could, and was quite averse to religious instruction.

When I was of age, I went first to the town of Vanity, where I resided a few years. And here, though I was much engaged in the business of the fair, my religious education operated as a restraint upon me, so that I did not feel any inclination to join in many of the practices which are common there. Yet, by degrees, the restraints I had felt became less, and I began to associate with several young men of loose principles and vicious habits, and to spend my leisure hours in their company. Still, however, I was resolved to maintain a fair character among men, and to avoid any practice which was esteemed disreputable. And I also spent a considerable portion of my time in reading such books as fell in my way.

Being intent on rising in the world, and watching for an opportunity to advance myself, I readily embraced an occasion of going to the City of Destruction, and engaging in business there, which I flattered myself would be more profitable. I continued there also several years, without any material change in my circumstances. I tasted of the streams of sensual pleasure; but the waters made me sick and I refrained. I dug in the mines of worldly gain, but without much success.

I was most desirous of climbing the hill of Worldly Honor. I looked at those who were ascending, and envied them the distinction they had attained. But the crowd of those who were pushing forward, and endeavoring to climb, was so great, that I could not make my way through them, even to the foot of the hill.

During my stay there, I had generally neglected to hear any of those who were called the ambassadors of the King, and spent my time in business or amusement. Yet I still intended to go on pilgrimage at some future day. One day Conscience came in, and told me plainly that I was exposed to the wrath of the King, and that there was no way to escape it but by leaving that place. So I promised him that I would leave the place, and set out on pilgrimage; and with that he seemed pacified, and left me. Then, after some time, he called again, and spoke in a more menacing manner, threatening me with speedy death, if I did not hasten out of the city. At this I was considerably alarmed, and packing up my effects, I removed to the town of Morality, and resided next door to Mr. Legality, with whom I was much pleased.

Not seeing any thing of Conscience for some time, however, and still feeling an inclination to spend some longer time in the city, I returned thither, and resumed my old occupation. But, to keep up the appearance of some respect to religious things, I attached myself to the parish of Dr. Smoothman, on whose preaching I attended constantly, and was, for some time, well satisfied with it. He taught, that if we led a sober, regular life, went constantly to church, were honest in our dealings, kind to the poor, and did not fall into any disreputable practices, nor any violent out-breaking sins, all would be well with us, though we never left the city.

But, although I was well pleased with such instructions, as being well suited to the inclinations of my heart, I could not entirely believe them. For, I had been too well acquainted with the King's book in my youth, though I had neglected it now for some years, not to know that it was necessary to enter the Wicket-gate, and go on pilgrimage. So I began to fear, lest, if I continued to attend his preaching, I should be persuaded to give up all thoughts of going on pilgrimage, and ultimately perish with the city. I then left his parish, and joined that of Dr. Soothing, who was understood to be in favor of the pilgrim's life. Under his preaching I was better satisfied: for I did not know enough, then, to perceive that it was even more dangerous than that of Dr. Smoothman. For though it had more of the semblance of truth, by which it was more likely to gain confidence, it was still radically wrong.

He said very little, in any of his discourses, that was calculated to disturb our peace, and make us sensible of our danger and guilt. When he introduced such subjects as depravity, atonement, regeneration, and the like, he did it in a manner so gentle, and kind, and tender, that no one could be offended; and treated them in such general terms, that no one could tell what were his precise views of them. But from his general manner of preaching, I soon got the idea that my depravity was inherited from my forefathers, and was rather to be looked upon as a calamity, than a fault: that it was what I could not help; that none could set out on pilgrimage till the King should please to send a messenger to carry him through the gate; and that it was my duty to wait patiently the King's time, and be in the use of certain means to obtain the King's favor, which, if persevered in, would certainly obtain it. So I began to use the means he pointed out, such as reading the King's book, attending constantly at church, and praying to the King after my manner. And I did all this the more readily, because I found it did not interfere with my love of the world, nor my supreme regard to my own happiness; but that the latter especially was fostered and encouraged by it.

In this manner I went on for some time, and began to think I was in a very good way, and had become a much better man. But, at a certain time, I mingled with a crowd to hear Evangelist preach, being moved by curiosity to hear one that was so much spoken against. I do not recollect his text, nor the outlines of his sermon; but I well remember that his discourse contradicted nearly all the opinions I had embraced. He taught that we are both active and dependent in all that we do; that our depravity is voluntary, and consequently not our calamity, but our crime; that repentance is the immediate duty of sinners, and that they have no excuse for delaying it a moment; that all selfishness is sin, that love to God, to be genuine, must be for what he is in himself, and not for what we expect to gain by it; that we must cease to make our happiness our supreme object, and make the glory of the King our ultimate end in all that we do; that going through the gate must be our own act, and that none would ever get through in any other way; that we must pray to the King with the prayer of love, and repentance, and faith; and that all prayer without love, repentance, and faith, is an abomination to the King; that sinners are condemned already, and the wrath of the King is abiding upon them; and that we must deny ourselves, submit to the King, accept the punishment of our iniquity, and put ourselves into his hands to be disposed of at his sovereign pleasure. These were some of the leading ideas

of Evangelist's discourse: and I no longer wondered why he was everywhere spoken against. I could not bear it better than others, and resolved never to hear him again.

On returning home, however, I was so uneasy, that I thought I would take the King's book, and find passages to refute the hated doctrines. So I searched some time, but did not get any satisfaction, because I found more that seemed to favor what Evangelist had said, than I could against it. So I went to Dr. Soothing, and told him my difficulties. He told me that he rather thought Evangelist was a good man, but very imprudent, and always carrying things to extremes; that those things were points of a doubtful, metaphysical, or speculative nature, mere theories, difficult to be understood, and quite unnecessary; that he wondered Evangelist would be always feeding his hearers with strong meat, and have no more regard to their venial prejudices; that no other ambassador of the King, in our whole city, thought it necessary to preach so; that he had made himself unpopular through his own fault; and that he wondered any would continue to hear him. He concluded by exhorting me to let these points alone, and go on in my old course of using means to induce the King to send his agent to carry me through the gate, and to wait patiently the King's time. I observed that he seemed unusually moved while saying these things, and to lose his wonted mildness, and gentleness, and tenderness, and to be almost as much displeased with Evangelist and his doctrines, as I was myself. I was gratified with this; but yet I was disappointed that I got no aid from him towards refuting those odious doctrines, and thought that in this instance he carried his prudence as much too far, as Evangelist did his doctrines.

After this, I continued to attend the same round of duties, as I then supposed them; but with less satisfaction. My peace had been disturbed, and I felt restless and uneasy. Sometimes I went to hear Mr. Save-all, who plainly told us there was no burning pit beneath our city, and that all would be received into favor at last. I should have been glad to embrace his doctrines, and tried for some time to do so; but I saw too much in the King's book against them. Sometimes I went to hear Mr Lawless, who taught that the Prince Immanuel had obeyed the law of the King in our behalf, and suffered its penalty for us, and thus had wrought out a finished righteousness which was transferred to such as would only believe it to be theirs; that no acts of repentance, nor love, nor obedience, of ours, were of any use, nor furnished any evidence in favor of those who performed them. The only thing he exhorted us to do, was to believe that the Prince Immanuel had