and Paul said they never could forget his kindness to them; Grace said little, but looked sorry when the time for parting came; and Charity observed, that the separations and long absences of friends was one of the crosses we had to encounter in our pilgrimage: however, they did not press his longer stay, knowing that his ancient relative most required his cheerful society and attentions. He, too, was sad at leaving his new friends, for he was of an affectionate disposition, as his name implied. When he was gone, Prudence told their guests they had known him from his childhood, and had a great regard for him; his mother was related to one of the virgins of their house, named Discretion, who, as well as themselves, had known Christian and his family. Grace asked "How it was that they had not seen her?” whereupon Piety said, She had been ill for some time, which was the reason she had not appeared; but they hoped she was now rather better, though still in a weak state."

Now I saw in my dream, that all the party drew round the fire, for the evening was chilly; and Paul and Luke reminded Grace that she had not yet told them the cause of her being found in the Labyrinth of Error, and they thought this would be a good

time for her to do so. The three virgins also joining in the request, she thus began :—

Grace. You remember, when you left our Town of Trouble to go on pilgrimage, I was living with my aunt, Mrs. Indulgence: perhaps you also recollect, that a short time before you went, an elderly gentleman came to live in the neighbourhood; he bore the character of great benevolence, and his philanthropy and good deeds were the talk of the place. Amongst many others, my aunt was greatly taken with him, and often invited him to the house. On these occasions he would be continually lamenting the disputes, enmity, and discord of various kinds existing in the world, and said, that he had a plan for making all mankind live together in peace and harmony; and, moreover, that he intended founding a colony and building a city, to be governed on the principle of universal love and charity. All this sounded very delightful, and elicited praise from numerous hearers, and from none more than my aunt Indulgence, who spoke much of him to me, telling me that I was a great favourite with him. "This," she said, "ought to please me;" and I supposed it ought, from a man who was considered so good: nevertheless, I did not feel that pleasure that

the commendation of those we truly esteem produces in the heart, and I feared I was ungrateful. But there was something in his countenance which I did not quite like, but when I once ventured to mention this, my aunt was angry, calling me a foolish girl, led away by my own fancy to oppose the opinion of older and wiser people than myself; and she half persuaded me that such must be the case. She had told Mr. Social (for that was the old gentleman's name) of my wish to follow my brother's example, and become a pilgrim; this he ridiculed as an absurd and chimerical notion. I was therefore much surprised when he one day began talking to me of you, Luke, and asked me if I did not wish to see you again; and on my replying how much I should like it, he even proposed my following your steps. I told him my aunt had always been against it, and I thought he agreed with her. "Yes," said he, "so I did at first; but on considering the matter, I begin to be of your opinion, and I think I can persuade her to consent: but you had better let me manage it; the less you speak of it yourself to her, the better." This sudden alteration appeared to me rather strange, but as he spoke in so friendly a manner, promising to influence my aunt

in my favour, I could not but feel obliged to him ; at the same time telling him, I would do nothing clandestinely and without her knowledge. Accordingly I soon took an opportunity of speaking to her on the subject, and she said that our friend, Mr. Social, having offered to go with me himself to seek my brother, and that if unsuccessful he would bring me back safely, she was induced to give her permission; and it was therefore arranged that we should set off on the next day but one. I bade farewell to a few friends I had in the place, most of whom approved of the plan, and thought me very fortunate in having so respectable a person to accompany me; but there were two or three others who shook their heads, and thought it a rash proceeding, and were indeed surprised that my aunt should allow me to be so venturous: these latter prophesied that they should soon see me back again; all, however, heartily wished me well; and when the time came, we parted from my aunt, who expressed great doubts of our overtaking you, my brother, but knowing you were likely to stop at divers places on the road, I hoped to find you at some of these. I asked my companion if he knew the way? "Oh, yes," replied he; and he led me

along; but I saw nothing of the Slough of Despond, of which I had heard, and we soon came to a large barren plain, with a distant hill on the left. I inquired what this was called? He said "he did not know; there might not be any name to it;" but a child whom we met, told me it was called "the Plain of Self-conceit."

"Ah!" said Paul, "I well remember hearing that name; and the hill you saw was, doubtless, that of Presumption, on which I strayed at our first setting out. But go on."

Grace. Well, then he told me he brought me that way to avoid the slough, and I inquired when we should come to the Wicket Gate ?" He said, "That was a round-about way, and there was no necessity to pass through it." To which I replied, "I had always understood it to be absolutely necessary.” "That," he answered, "was merely prejudice, and that by taking a short cut we should gain time, and be more likely to come up with Luke." This plausible reason did not, however, satisfy me, and I felt mistrustful of him as a guide, but fearful of betraying this feeling at the time,

"Did you meet with Evangelist in those parts?" asked Luke.