pleasant attire, but old, who presented herself to me, and offered me three things, to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the truth is, I was both a'weary and sleepy; I am also as poor as an owlet; and that perhaps the Witch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and again; but she put by my repulses, and smiled. Then I began to be angry; but she mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, and said, if I would be ruled by her, she would make me great and happy; for, said she, I am the Mistress of the World, and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name; and she told me it was Madam Bubble. This set me farther from her; but she still followed me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you saw, to my knees; and with hands lifted up, and cries, I prayed to Him that had said He would help. So, just as you came up, the gentlewoman went her

Then she made offers again, and said she would make me great and happy, "For," said she, "J am the Mistress of the World, & men are made happy by me;'-Then I asked her name, and she told me it was Madam Bubble.

way. Then I continued to give thanks for this my great deliverance; for I verily believe she intended no good, but rather sought to make stop of me in my journey.

Hon. Without doubt, her designs were bad. But stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have read some story of her.

Standfast. Perhaps you have done both.

Hon. Madam Bubble! is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy complexion?

Standfast. Right; you hit it. She is just such a one.

Hon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of a sentence?

Standfast. You fall right upon it again; for these are her very

actions.

Hon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side? and is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that was her heart's delight?

Standfast. 'Tis just so. Had she stood by all this while, you could not more amply have set her forth before me, and have better described her features.

Hon. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that wrote of her said true.

Great-H. This woman is a Witch; and it is by virtue of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted. Whoever doth lay his head down in her lap, had as good lay it down on that block over which the axe doth hang; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, are counted the enemies of God. This is she that maintaineth in their splendour all those that are the enemies of Pilgrims.3 Yea, this is she that hath bought off many a man from a Pilgrim's life. She is a great gossiper: she is always, both she and her daughters, at one Pilgrim's heels or another, now commending and then preferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut; she will talk with any man. She always laugheth poor Pilgrims to scorn, but highly commends the rich. If there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house. She loveth banqueting and feasting mainly well: she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in some places that she is a goddess; and therefore some do worship her. She has her time and open places of cheating; and she will say, and avow it, that none can shew a good comparable to hers. She promiseth to dwell with children's children, if they will but love her, and make much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold like dust in some places, and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, and she loves them most that think best of her. She will promise to some crowns and kingdoms, if they will but take her advice; yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to Hell.

Oh! said Standfast, what a mercy is it that I did resist her! for whither might she have drawn me!

Great-H. Whither! nay, none but God knows whither; but, in general, to be sure, she would have drawn thee into "many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition."4

'Twas she that set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. 'Twas she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demas to forsake the godly Pilgrim's life.

3 James iv. 4; 1 John ii. 15.

4 1 Tim. vi. 9.

None can tell of the mischief that she doth: she makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbour and neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, betwixt a man and himself, betwixt the flesh and the spirit.

Wherefore, good Mr. Standfast, be as your name is; and, "when you have done all, stand."

At this discourse there was, among the Pilgrims, a mixture of joy and trembling; but at length they broke out and sung,

What danger is the Pilgrim in!

How many are his foes!

How many ways there are to sin,

No living mortal knows,

Some in the ditch are spoil'd; yea, can

Lie tumbling in the mire;

Some, though they shun the frying-pan,

Do leap into the fire.

After this, I beheld until they were come into the land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day (cut, p. 133). Here, be

cause the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the Celestial Country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of His things. But a little while soon refreshed them here; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep, and yet they received as much refreshing as if they slept their sleep never so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked the streets was, "More Pilgrims are come to town." And another would answer, saying, "And so many went over the water, and were let in at the Golden Gates to-day." They would cry again, "There is now a legion of Shining Ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more Pilgrims upon the road; for here they come to wait for them,

and to comfort them after all their sorrow." Then the Pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro: but how were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with celestial visions! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing, that was offensive to their stomach or mind; only when they tasted of the water of the river over which they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the palate; but it proved sweeter when it was down.

In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been Pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here also much discoursed, how the river to some had its flowings, and what ebbings it has had while others have gone over: it has been in a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks for others.

In this place, the children of the town would go into the King's Gardens, and gather nosegays for the Pilgrims, and bring them to them with much affection. Here also grew camphire with spikenard and saffron; calamus, and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these the Pilgrims' chambers were perfumed while they stayed here; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river, when the time appointed was come. Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the town, that there was a Post come from the Celestial City, with matter of great importance to one Christiana, the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was. So the Post presented her with a letter; the contents were, "Hail, good woman! I

Now while they lay here, a post came from the Celestial City to one Christiana, the wife of Christian the Pilgrim.-With this letter he gave her a sure token-the token was, an arrow sharpened with love, let easily into her heart.

bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldst stand in His presence, in clothes of immortality, within these ten days."

When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was, "An arrow with a point sharpened

with love, let easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought so effectually with her, that, at the time appointed, she must be gone."

When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she was the first of this company that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-Heart her Guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the Post come for him. Then she bid him that he should give advice how all things should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying, Thus and thus it must be; and we that survive will accompany you to the river-side. Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them, that she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the messenger should come for them.

Then she called for her children and gave them her blessi g: she bequea hed to the poor the little she had and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready, agains. the messenger should come for them.

When she had spoken these words to her Guide, and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, and said unto him, Sir, you have in all places shewed yourself true-hearted; be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a crown of life. I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children; and, if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise upon them will be their end. But she gave Mr. Standfast a ring.

Then she called for old Mr. Honest,

and said of him, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!" Then said he, I wish you a fair day when you set out for Mount Zion, and shall be glad to see that you go over the river dry-shod. But she answered, Come wet, come dry, I long to be gone; for, however the weather is in my journey, I shall have time

She then sent for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, and old Mr. Honest.-Then came in that good man Mr Ready-to-halt to see her-af er him came in Mr. Despondency and his daughter Muchafraid.-Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind "I advise thee to repent of thy aptuess to fear."

enough, when I come there, to sit down, and rest me, and dry me.