it out if it can,
where the Pilgrim's fellow, Faithful, seals his testimony with his death,
and the Pilgrim himself barely escapes; the "delicate plain" called Ease,
and the little hill, Lucre, where Demas stood "gentlemanlike," to invite
the passersby to come and dig in his silver mine; Byepath Meadow, into
which the Pilgrim and his newly-found companion stray, and are made
prisoners by Giant Despair and shut up in the dungeons of Doubting
Castle, and break out of prison by the help of the Key of Promise; the
Delectable Mountains in Immanuel's Land, with their friendly shepherds
and the cheering prospect of the far-off heavenly city; the Enchanted
Land, with its temptations to spiritual drowsiness at the very end of the
journey; the Land of Beulah, the ante-chamber of the city to which they
were bound; and, last stage of all, the deep dark river, without a
bridge, which had to be crossed before the city was entered; the entrance
into its heavenly gates, the pilgrim's joyous reception with all the
bells in the city ringing again for joy; the Dreamer's glimpse of its
glories through the opened portals--is not every stage of the journey,
every scene of the pilgrimage, indelibly printed on our memories, for our
warning, our instruction, our encouragement in the race we, as much as
they, have each one to run? Have we not all, again and again, shared the
Dreamer's feelings--"After that they shut up the Gates; which, when I had
seen, I wished myself among them," and prayed, God helping us, that our
"dangerous journey"--ever the most dangerous when we see its dangers the
least--might end in our "safe arrival at the desired country"?

"The Pilgrim's Progress" exhibits Bunyan in the character by which he
would have most desired to be remembered, as one of the most influential
of Christian preachers. Hallam, however, claims for him another
distinction which would have greatly startled and probably shocked him,
as the father of our English novelists. As an allegorist Bunyan had many
predecessors, not a few of whom, dating from early times, had taken the
natural allegory of the pilgrimage of human life as the basis of their
works. But as a novelist he had no one to show him the way. Bunyan was
the first to break ground in a field which has since then been so
overabundantly worked that the soil has almost lost its productiveness;
while few novels written purely with the object of entertainment have
ever proved so universally ent