Amy Brooks - "Princess Polly's Gay Winter"

Edward S. Ellis - "The Lost Trail"

Alfred Lord Tennyson - "Queen Mary and Harold"

Elizabeth Jordan - "Many Kingdoms"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The Works of John Bunyan Volume 3

J >> John Bunyan >> The Works of John Bunyan Volume 3




CHRIST. But were you not afraid, good Sir, when you saw him come
out with his club?[204]

GREAT-HEART. It is my duty, said he, to distrust my own ability,
that I may have reliance on Him that is stronger than all.

CHRIST. But what did you think when he fetched you down to the
ground at the first blow?

GREAT-HEART. Why, I thought, quoth he, that so my Master Himself
was served, and yet He it was that conquered at the last.

MATT. When you all have thought what you please, I think God has
been wonderful good unto us, both in bringing us out of this Valley,
and in delivering us out of the hand of this enemy; for my part,
I see no reason, why we should distrust our God any more, since
He has now, and in such a place as this, given us such testimony
of His love as this.

Then they got up and went forward. Now a little before them stood
an oak; and under it, when they came to it, they found an old pilgrim
fast asleep; they knew that he was a pilgrim by his clothes, and
his staff, and his girdle.

So the guide, Mr. Great-heart, awaked him, and the old gentleman,
as he lift up his eyes, cried out, What's the matter? Who are you?
and what is your business here?[205]

GREAT-HEART. Come, man, be not so hot, here is none but friends;
yet the old man gets up, and stands upon his guard, and will know
of them what they were. Then said the guide, My name is Great-heart;
I am the guide of these Pilgrims, which are going to the Celestial
Country.

HONEST. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy; I feared that you
had been of the company of those that sometime ago did rob Little-faith
of his money; but now I look better about me, I perceive you are
honester people.

GREAT-HEART. Why, what would, or could you have done, to have
helped yourself, if we indeed had been of that company. HON. Done!
why I would have fought as long as breath had been in me; and had
I so done, I am sure you could never have given me the worst on
it; for a Christian can never be overcome, unless he should yield
of himself.[206]

GREAT-HEART. Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide; for by
this I know thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou hast said
the truth.

HON. And by this, also, I know that thou knowest what true pilgrimage
is; for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of
any.

GREAT-HEART. Well, now we are so happily met, pray let me crave
your name, and the name of the place you came from.

HON. My name I cannot; but I came from the town of Stupidity; it
lieth about four degrees beyond the City of Destruction.

GREAT-HEART. Oh! are you that countryman, then? I deem I have
half a guess of you; your name is Old Honesty, is it not? So the
old gentleman blushed, and said, Not Honesty, in the abstract,[207]
but Honest is my name; and I wish that my nature shall agree to
what I am called.

HON. But, Sir, said the old gentleman, how could you guess that I
am such a man, since I came from such a place?

GREAT-HEART. I had heard of you before, by my Master; for He knows
all things that are done on the earth; but I have often wondered
that any should come from your place, for your town is worse than
is the City of Destruction itself.

HON. Yes, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and
senseless; but was a man in a mountain of ice, yet if the Sun of
Righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen heart shall feel a
thaw; and thus it hath been with me.[208]

GREAT-HEART. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it; for I know
the thing is true.

Then the old gentleman saluted all the Pilgrims with a holy kiss
of charity; and asked them of their names, and how they had fared
since they set out on their pilgrimage.[209]

CHRIST. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose you have heard of;
good Christian was my husband, and these four were his children.
But can you think how the old gentleman was taken, when she told
him who she was! He skipped, he smiled, and blessed them with a
thousand good wishes, saying:

HON. I have heard much of your husband, and of his travels and wars,
which he underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the
name of your husband rings over all these parts of the world: his
faith, his courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, has
made his name famous. Then he turned him to the boys, and asked
them of their names, which they told him. And then said he unto
them: Matthew, be thou like Matthew the publican, not in vice,
but in virtue (Matt. 10:3). Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel
the Prophet, a man of faith and prayer (Psa. 99:6). Joseph, said
he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that
flees from temptation (Gen. 39). And James, be thou like James
the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord (Acts 1:13, 14).
Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her town and her
kindred to come along with Christiana 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 much pleased, and
smiled upon his companion.

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

HON. 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 ever I met with in all my days.[210]

GREAT-HEART. I perceive you knew him; for you have given a very
right character of him.

HON. 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 gates
of the Celestial City.

HON. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one.

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

HON. 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 that he should come short
of whither he had a desire to go. Everything frightened him that
he heard anybody speak of, that had but the least appearance of
opposition in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the Slough of Despond
for about a month together; nor durst he, 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.[211]
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 anybody cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the
Slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshine
morning, I do not 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 everywhere
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
adventure to knock. When the gate was opened, he would give back,
and give place to others, and say that he was not worthy. For,
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
on the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two; then One
opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that opened stepped
out after him, and said, Thou trembling one, what wantest thou?
With that he fell down to the ground. He that spoke to him wondered
to see him so faint. So 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 he was in, he
was ashamed to show his face. Well, after he had been entertained
there a while, as you know how the manner is, he was bid go on
his way, and also told the way he should take. So he came till
he came to our house. But as he behaved himself at the gate, so
he did His behaviour at my Master the Interpreter's door. He lay
thereabout in the cold a good while, before he would adventure 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 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 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 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 wonderfully lovingly to him. 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 he granted. 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.

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 cheery. 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 those;
his fear was about his acceptance at last.[212]

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 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 afterwards 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 to ask.

When we went also from the House Beautiful, he went down the hill,
into the Valley of Humiliation, he went down as well as ever I
saw man in my life; for he cared not how mean he was, so he might
he happy at last. Yea, I think, there was a kind of a sympathy
betwixt that valley and him; for I never saw him better in all his
pilgrimage than when he was in that valley.[213]

Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very
flowers that grew in this valley (Lam. 3:27-29). He would now be
up every morning by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro
in this 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 any 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
it. 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.[214]

But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as quiet
while he went through it, as ever I knew it before or since. I
suppose these enemies here had now a special check from our Lord,
and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over it.

It would he too tedious to tell you of all. We will, therefore,
only mention a passage or two more. When he was come at Vanity
Fair, I thought he would have fought with all at the men at the
fair. I feared there we should both have been knocked on the head,
so hot was he against their fooleries.[215] Upon the Enchanted
Ground, he was also 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 forever, 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.[216]
When he was going up to the gate, I 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.

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
(Psa. 88). 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 (Rom. 14:21;
1 Cor. 8:13).

HON. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be
all his days so much in the dark?[217]

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.
11:16-18). Now Mr. Fearing was one that played upon this 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 here was
the imperfection of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon no other music
but this, till towards his latter end.[218]

I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the
wits of young readers; and because, in the book of the Revelations,
the saved are compared to a company of musicians that play upon
their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne
(Rev. 8:2; 14:2, 3).

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. It was only sin, death, and hell that was to him
a terror, because he had some doubts about his interest in that
celestial country.[219]

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.

CHRIST. 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 semblance betwixt this good man and I; only we differed
in two things: His troubles were so great, they break 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. If I might also speak my heart, 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 of
the loss of other things. O, 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!

MATT. 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 were so with such a good man as he, why may it not also
go well with me?

JAMES. No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always
grace where thereis the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, there is
no grace where there is no fear of God.[220]

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
lack 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.


Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear
Thy God, and wast afraid
Of doing anything, 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.[221]


Now I saw, that they still went on in their talk; for after Mr.
Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. Honest began to
tell them of another, but his name was Mr. Self-will. He pretended
himself to be a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest; but I persuade myself he
never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the way.

GREAT-HEART. Had you ever any talk with him about it?

HON. Yes, more than once or twice; but he would always be like
himself, self-willed. He neither cared for man, nor argument, nor
yet 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.

HON. 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 heart to
be guilty of the vices, as well as to 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.[222] 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.

HON. Aye, aye, so I mean; and so he believed and practised.

GREAT-HEART. But what ground had he for his so saying?

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

GREAT-HEART. Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars.

HON. So I will. He said, To have to do with other men's wives, had
been practised by David, God's beloved; and therefore he could 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 saved 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.[223]

GREAT-HEART. Highly base! indeed. And you are sure he was of this
opinion?

HON. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, bring
argument for it, &c.

GREAT-HEART. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance
in the world.

HON. 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 the wind, or for that
it stumbled at a stone, fell down, and defiled itself in mire,
therefore he might willfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein.
Who could have thought that anyone could so far have been blinded
by the power of lust? But what is written must be true: They
'stumble at the Word, being disobedient; whereunto also they were
appointed' (1 Peter 2:8).

His supposing that such may have the godly men's virtues, who
addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as strong as
the other. It is just as if the dog should say, I have, or may
have, the qualities of the child, because I lick up its stinking
excrements. To eat up the sin of God's people, is no sign of one
that is possessed with their virtues (Hosea 4:8). 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; prithee, what can he say for himself?[224]

HON. Why, he says, To do this by way of opinion, seems abundance
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 pleads them into
the snare.

HON. 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.

CHRIST. There are strange opinions in the world; I know one that
said, It was time enough to repent when they come to die.[225]

GREAT-HEART. Such are not over wise. That man would have been loath,
might he have had a week to run twenty miles in for his life, to
have deferred that journey to the last hour of that week.

HON. You say right; and yet the generality of them, that count
themselves pilgrims, do indeed do thus. I am, as you see, an old
man, and have been a traveler in this road many a day; and I have
taken notice of many things.[226]

I have seen some that have set out as if they would drive all the
world afore them, who yet have, in 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 a
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 as fast just 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
he opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the
pilgrim's way, and all.[227]

Now, as they were thus in their way, there 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.[228]

GREAT-HEART. 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 villains; but whether they
heard of Mr. Great-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.[229] Then said Mr. Honest, There is one
a little before us, where a very honourable disciple, one Gaius,
dwells (Rom. 16:23). 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 went in, not knocking, for
folks use not to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for
the master of the house, and he came to them. So they asked if they
might lie there that night.

GAIUS. Yes, gentlemen, if ye be true men, for my house is for none
but pilgrims. Then was Christiana, Mercy, and the boys, the more
glad, for that the Inn-keeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they
called for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and her
children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart and the old
gentleman.