n trousers, and for all the world like guests at a
garden-party. Worldly-Wiseman alone, by some inexplicable quirk, stands
before Christian in laced hat, embroidered waistcoat, and trunk-hose.
But above all examples of this artist's intrepidity, commend me to the
print entitled "Christian Finds it Deep." "A great darkness and horror,"
says the text, have fallen on the pilgrim; it is the comfortless
deathbed with which Bunyan so strikingly concludes the sorrows and
conflicts of his hero. How to represent this worthily the artist knew
not; and yet he was determined to represent it somehow. This was how he
did: Hopeful is still shown to his neck above the water of death; but
Christian has bodily disappeared, and a blot of solid blackness
indicates his place.

As you continue to look at these pictures, about an inch square for the
most part, sometimes printed three or more to the page, and each having
a printed legend of its own, however trivial the event recorded, you
will soon become aware of two things: first, that the man can draw, and,
second, that he possesses the gift of an imagination. "Obstinate
reviles," says the legend; and you should see Obstinate reviling. "He
warily retraces his steps"; and there is Christian, posting through the
plain, terror and speed in every muscle. "Mercy yearns to go" shows you
a plain interior with packing going forward, and, right in the middle,
Mercy yearning to go--every line of the girl's figure yearning. In "The
Chamber called Peace" we see a simple English room, bed with white
curtains, window valance and door, as may be found in many thousand
unpretentious houses; but far off, through the open window, we behold
the sun uprising out of a great plain, and Christian hails it with his
hand:

"Where am I now! is this the love and care
Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are!
Thus to provide! That I should be forgiven!
And dwell already the next door to heaven!"

A page or two further, from the top of the House Beautiful, the damsels
point his gaze toward the Delectable Mountains: "The Prospect," so the
cut is ticketed--and I shall be surprised, if on less than a square of
paper you can show me one so wide and fair. Down a cross road on an
English plain, a cathedral city outlined on the horizon, a hazel shaw
upon the left, comes Madam Wanton dancing with her fair enchanted cup,
and Faithful, book in hand, half pauses. The cut is perfect as a symbol;
the giddy movement of