The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan (english love story books .txt) 📕

soul finds that others have gone before him in dreadful, dark, and dreary paths. —⁠Mason ↩

Job 9:11. ↩

Amos 5:8.

To walk in darkness, and not be distressed for it, argues stupidity of the soul. To have the light of God’s countenance shine upon us, and not to rejoice and be thankful for it, is impossible. —⁠Mason ↩

Job 12:22. ↩

I would not be too confident, but I apprehend that by this second part of the valley we are taught that believers are not most in danger when under the deepest distress; that the snares and devices of the enemy are so many and various, through the several stages of our pilgrimage, as to baffle all description; and that all the emblems of these valleys could not represent the thousandth part of them. Were it not that the Lord guides His people by the light of His Word and Spirit, they never could possibly escape them. —⁠Scott ↩

The wicked spirits have made and laid for us snares, pits, holes, and whatnot, if peradventure by something we may be destroyed. Yea, and we should most certainly be so, were it not for the Rock that is higher than they. —⁠Bunyan’s Saints’ Knowledge of Christ’s Love, vol. 2, p. 8 ↩

Job 29:3. ↩

Alas, my dear country! I would to God it could not be said to thee, since the departure of paganism and popery, “The blood of the poor innocents is found in thy skirts, not by a secret search, but upon thy kings, princes, priests, and prophets” (Jeremiah 2:34, 26). Let us draw a veil over the infamy of protestant persecution, and bless Jehovah, who has broken the arrow and the bow. —⁠Andronicus It may be questioned whether popery may not yet so far recover its vigour as to make one more alarming struggle against vital Christianity, before that Man of Sin be finally destroyed. Our author, however, has described no other persecution than what Protestants, in his time, carried on against one another with very great alacrity. —⁠Scott ↩

The quaint and pithy point of this passage stamps it as one of Bunyan’s most felicitous descriptions. We who live in a later age may, indeed, suspect that he has somewhat antedated the death of Pagan, and the impotence of Pope; but his picture of their cave and its memorials, his delineation of the survivor of this fearful pair, rank among those master-touches which have won such lasting honour for his genius. —⁠Bernard Barton ↩

Christian having passed the gloomy whirlwind of temptation to despair, now walks in the light of the Sun of Righteousness, through the second part of the valley. There he encounters the persecution of the state church. Act after act of Parliament had been passed⁠—full of atrocious penalties, imprisonments, transportation, and hanging⁠—to deter poor pilgrims from the way to Zion. “The way was full of snares, traps, gins, nets, pitfalls, and deep holes.” Had the darkness of mental anguish been added to these dangers, he must have perished. The butcheries of Jefferies strewed the way with blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of pilgrims. Pope reared his ugly head, and growled out, “More of you must be burned.” The desolating tyranny of the church was curbed by the King’s turning papist, which paved the way for the glorious Revolution of 1688. It appears from the Grace Abounding, that to the time of Bunyan’s imprisonment for preaching the Gospel, he was involved frequently in deeply-distressing spiritual darkness; but, from his entering the prison, he walked in the light of God’s countenance to his dying day. —⁠Editor ↩

We are now to be introduced to a new pilgrim, and Christian is no more to go on his way alone. The sweet Christian communion depicted in this book forms one of the most delightful features in it, and Faithful and Hopeful are both of them portraits that stand out in as firm relief as that of Christian himself. Faithful is the Martyr Pilgrim, who goes in a chariot of fire to Heaven, and leaves Christian alone; Hopeful springs, as it were, out of Faithful’s ashes, and supplies his place all along the remainder of the pilgrimage. The communion between these loving Christians, their sympathy and share in each other’s distresses, their mutual counsels and encouragements, temptations and dangers, experience and discipline, their united joys and sorrows, and their very passing of the river of death together, form the sweetest of all examples of the true fellowship of saints, united to the same Saviour, made to drink into the same Spirit, baptized with the same sufferings, partakers of the same consolations, crowned with the same crown of life, entering together upon glory everlasting. —⁠Cheever The author has displayed great skill in introducing a companion to his Pilgrim in this place. Thus far the personal adventures of Christian had been of the most extraordinary kind, and sufficient of themselves to exercise the reader’s sympathies for him; but these feelings would have languished from weariness, however intensely the sequel might have been wrought, had attention been claimed for a solitary wanderer to the end of the journey. Here then the history, which had probably reached its climax in the preceding scenes, revives, by taking a new form, and exciting a fresh interest, rather doubled than divided, though two have thenceforward to share it instead of one. Besides, the individual experience of one man, however varied, would not have been sufficient to exemplify all the most useful lessons of the Gospel, unless the trials of many persons, of different age, sex, and disposition, were interwoven. The instance at hand will illustrate this point. —⁠Montgomery ↩

Ah, what a smile was that! How much sin was there in it, instead of humble spiritual gratitude, and