their journey; but
as they could not see very far forward, and as they knew there was a
dark and shadowy valley, which must needs be crossed before they
could attain to the Happy land, they tried to turn their attention
from it as much as they could. The truth is, they were not
sufficiently apt to consult a map which the King had given them, and
which pointed out the road to the Happy land so clearly, that the
"wayfaring man, though simple, could not err." This map also defined
very correctly the boundaries of the Happy land from the land of
Misery, both of which lay on the other side of the dark and shadowy
valley; but so many beacons and lighthouses were erected, so many
clear and explicit directions furnished for avoiding the one country
and attaining the other, that it was not the King's fault, if even one
single traveller got wrong. But I am inclined to think, that in spite
of the map, and the King's word, and his offers of assistance to get
them thither, the travellers in general did not heartily and truly
believe, after all, that there was any such country as the Happy land;
or at least, the paltry and transient pleasures of the wilderness so
besotted them, the thoughts of the dark and shadowy valley so
frightened them, that they thought they should be more comfortable by
banishing all thought and forecast.

Now I also saw in my dream, that there were two roads through the
wilderness, one of which every traveller must needs take. The first
was narrow, and difficult, and rough, but it was infallibly safe. It
did not admit the traveller to stray either to the right hand or to
the left, yet it was far from being destitute of real comforts or
sober pleasures. The other was a _broad and tempting way_, abounding
with luxurious fruits and gaudy flowers to tempt the eye and please
the appetite. To forget the dark valley, through which every traveller
was well assured he must one day pass, seemed, indeed, the object of
general desire. To this great end, all that human ingenuity could
invent was industriously set to work. The travellers read, and they
wrote, and they painted, and they sung, and they danced, and they
drank as they went along, not so much because they all cared for these
things, or had any real joy in them, as because this restless activity
served to divert their attention from ever being fixed on the _dark
and shadowy valley_.

The King, who knew the thoughtless temper of the travellers, and
how apt they