my calling are often times entrusted with the conduct of such as he was.
Hon. Why, then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed himself under your conduct.
Great. Why, he was always afraid that he should some short of whither he had a desire to go. Everything frightened him that he heard anybody speak of, if it had but the least appearance of opposition in it. I have heard that he lay roaring at the Slough of Despond for above a month together; nor durst he, for all he saw several go over before him, venture, though they, many of them, offered to lend him their hands. He would not go back again neither. The Celestial City, he said he should die if he came not to it; and yet he was dejected at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw that anybody cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the Slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshiny morning, I don't know how, he ventured, and so got over; but when he was over, he would scarcely believe it." He had, I think, a Slough of Despond in his mind—a slough that he carried everywhere with him—or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate—you know what I mean that stands at the head of this way, and there also he stood a good while before he Would venture to knock. When the gate was opened, he would give back, and give place to others, and say that he was not worthy. For, for all he get before some to the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would stand shaking and shrinking; I dare say it would have pitied one's heart to have seen him. Nor would he back again. At last he took the hammer that hanged on the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two; then one opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that, opened stepped out after him, and said, Thou trembling one, what wantest thou? With that he fell down to the ground, He that spoke to him wondered to see him so faint; so he said to him, Peace be to thee. Up,
