ess　along　the　　causeway；　between　the　two　black　pools；　where；　at　every　yard　　or　two；　a　gin；　a　pitfall；　or　a　snare　awaits　the　passer…by　…　　loathsome　white　devilkins　harbouring　close　under　the　bank　to　　work　the　springes；　Christian　himself　pausing　and　pricking　　with　his　sword's　point　at　the　nearest　noose；　and　pale　　discomfortable　mountains　rising　on　the　farther　side；　or　yet　　again；　the　two　ill…favoured　ones　that　beset　the　first　of　　Christian's　journey；　with　the　frog…like　structure　of　the　　skull；　the　frog…like　limberness　of　limbs　…　crafty；　slippery；　　lustful…looking　devils；　drawn　always　in　outline　as　though　　possessed　of　a　dim；　infernal　luminosity。　　Horrid　fellows　are　　they；　one　and　all；　horrid　fellows　and　horrific　scenes。　　In　　another　spirit　that　Good…Conscience　'to　whom　Mr。　Honest　had　　spoken　in　his　lifetime；'　a　cowled；　grey；　awful　figure；　one　　hand　pointing　to　the　heavenly　shore；　realises；　I　will　not　say　　all；　but　some　at　least　of　the　strange　impressiveness　of　　Bunyan's　words。　　It　is　no　easy　nor　pleasant　thing　to　speak　in　　one's　lifetime　with　Good…Conscience；　he　is　an　austere；　　unearthly　friend；　whom　maybe　Torquemada　knew；　and　the　folds　　of　his　raiment　are　not　merely　claustral；　but　have　something　　of　the　horror　of　the　pall。　　Be　not　afraid；　however；　with　the　　hand　of　that　appearance　Mr。　Honest　will　get　safe　across。
  Yet　perhaps　it　is　in　sequences　that　this　artist　best　displays　　himself。　　He　loves　to　look　at　either　side　of　a　thing：　as；　for　　instance；　when　he　shows　us　both　sides　of　the　wall　…　'Grace　　Inextinguishable'　on　the　one　side；　with　the　devil　vainly　　pouring　buckets　on　the　flame；　and　'The　Oil　of　Grace'　on　the　　other；　where　the　Holy　Spirit；　vessel　in　hand；　still　secretly　　supplies　the　fire。　　He　loves；　also；　to　show　us　the　same　event　　twice　over；　and　to　repeat　his　instantaneous　photographs　at　　the　interval　of　but　a　moment。　　So　we　have；　first；　the　whole　　troop　of　pilgrims　coming　up　to　Valiant；　and　Great…heart　to　　the　front；　spear　in　hand　and　parleying；　and　next；　the　same　　cross…roads；　from　a　more　distant　view；　the　convoy　now　　scattered　and　looking　safely　and　curiously　on；　and　Valiant　　handing　over　for　inspection　his　'right　Jerusalem　blade。'　　It　　is　true　that　this　designer　has　no　great　care　after　　consistency：　Apollyon's　spear　is　laid　by；　his　quiver　of　darts　　will　disappear；　whenever　they　might　hinder　the　designer's　　freedom；　and　the　fiend's　tail　is　blobbed　or　forked　at　his　　good　pleasure。　　But　this　is　not　unsuitable　to　the　　illustration　of　the　fervent　Bunyan；　breathing　hurry　and　　momentary　inspiration。　　He；　with　his　hot　purpose；　hunting　　sinners　with　a　lasso；　shall　himself　forget　the　things　that　he　　has　written　yesterday。　　He　shall　first　slay　Heedless　in　the　　Valley　of　the　Shadow；　and　then　take　leave　of　him　talking　in　　his　sleep；　as　if　nothing　had　happened；　in　an　arbour　on　the　　Enchanted　Ground。　　And　again；　in　his　rhymed　prologue；　he　　shall　assign　some　of　the　glory　of　the　siege　of　Doubting　　Castle　to　his　favourite　Valiant…for…the…Truth；　who　did　not　　meet　with　the　besiegers　till　long　after；　at　that　dangerous　　corner　by　Deadman's　Lane。　　And；　with　all　inconsistencies　and　　freedoms；　there　is　a　power　shown　in　these　sequences　of　cuts：　　a　power　of　joining　on　one　action　or　one　humour　to　another；　a　　power　of　following　out　the　moods；　even　of　the　dismal　　subterhuman　fiends　engendered　by　the　artist's　fancy；　a　power　　of　sustained　continuous　realisation；　step　by　step；　in　　nature's　order；　that　can　tell　a　story；　in　all　its　ins　and　　outs；　its　pauses　and　surprises；　fully　and　figuratively；　like　　the　art　of　words。
  One　such　sequence　is　the　fight　of　Christian　and　Apollyon　…　　six　cuts；　weird　and　fiery；　like　the　text。　　The　pilgrim　is　　throughout　a　pale　and　stockish　figure；　but　the　devil　covers　a　　multitude　of　defects。　　There　is　no　better　devil　of　the　　conventional　order　than　our　artist's　Apollyon；　with　his　mane；　　his　wings；　his　bestial　legs；　his　changing　and　terrifying　　expression；　his　infernal　energy　to　slay。　　In　cut　the　first　　you　see　him　afar　off；　still　obscure　in　form；　but　already　　formidable　in　suggestion。　　Cut　the　second；　'The　Fiend　in　　Discourse；'　represents　him；　not　reasoning；　railing　rather；　　shaking　his　spear　at　the　pilgrim；　his　shoulder　advanced；　his　　tail　writhing　in　the　air；　his　foot　ready　for　a　spring；　while　　Christian　stands　back　a　little；　timidly　defensive。　　The　third　　illustrates　these　magnificent　words：　'Then　Apollyon　straddled　　quite　over　the　whole　breadth　of　the　way；　and　said；　I　am　void　　of　fear　in　this　matter：　prepare　thyself　to　die；　for　I　swear　　by　my　infernal　den　that　thou　shalt　go　no　farther：　here　will　I　　spill　thy　soul！　　And　with　that　he　threw　a　flaming　dart　at　his　　breast。'　　In　the　cut　he　throws　a　dart　with　either　hand；　　belching　pointed　flames　out　of　his　mouth；　spreading　his　broad　　vans；　and　straddling　the　while　across　the　path；　as　only　a　　fiend　can　straddle　who　has　just　sworn　by　his　infernal　den。　　　The　defence　will　not　be　long　against　such　vice；　such　flames；　　such　red…hot　nether　energy。　　And　in　the　fourth　cut；　to　be　　sure；　he　has　leaped　bodily　upon　his　victim；　sped　by　foot　and　　pinion；　and　roaring　as　he　leaps。　　The　fifth　shows　the　　climacteric　of　the　battle；　Christian　has　reached　nimbly　out　　and　got　his　sword；　and　dealt　that　deadly　home…thrust；　the　　fiend　still　stretched　upon　him；　but　'giving　back；　as　one　that　　had　received　his　mortal　wound。'　　The　raised　head；　the　　bellowing　mouth；　the　paw　clapped　upon　the　sword；　the　one　wing　　relaxed　in　agony；　all　realise　vividly　these　words　of　the　　text。　　In　the　sixth　and　last；　the　trivial　armed　figure　of　the　　pilgrim　is　seen　kneeling　with　clasped　hands　on　the　betrodden　　scene　of　contest　and　among　the　shivers　of　the　darts；　while　　just　at　the　margin　the　hinder　quarters　and　the　tail　of　　Apollyon　are　whisking　off；　indignant　and　discounted。
  In　one　point　only　do　these　pictures　seem　to　be　unworthy　of　　the　text；　and　that　point　is　one　rather　of　the　difference　of　　arts　than　the　difference　of　artists。　　Throughout　his　best　and　　worst；　in　his　highest　and　most　divine　imaginations　as　in　the　　narrowest　sallies　of　his　sectarianism；　the　human…hearted　　piety　of　Bunyan　touches　and　ennobles；　convinces；　accuses　the　　reader。　　Through　no　art　beside　the　art　of　words　can　the　　kindness　of　a　man's　affections　be　expressed。　　In　the　cuts　you　　shall　find　faithfully　parodied　the　quaintness　and　the　power；　　the　triviality　and　the　surprising　freshness　of　the　author's　　fancy；　there　you　shall　find　him　out…stripped　in　ready　　symbolism　and　the　art　of　bringing　things　essentially　　invisible　before　the　eyes：　but　to　feel　the　contact　of　　essential　goodness；　to　be　made　in　love　with　piety；　the　book　　must　be　read　and　not　the　prints　examined。
  Farewell　should　not　be　taken　with　a　grudge；　nor　can　I　dismiss　　in　any　other　words　than　those　of　gratitude　a　series　of　　pictures　which　have；　to　one　at　least；　been　the　visible　　embodiment　of　Bunyan　from　childhood　up；　and　shown　him；　　through　all　his　years；　Great…heart　lungeing　at　Giant　Maul；　　and　Apollyon　breathing　fire　at　Christian；　and　every　turn　and　　town　along　the　road　to　the　Celestial　City；　and　that　bright　　place　itself；　seen　as　to　a　stave　of　music；　shining　afar　off　　upon　the　hill…top；　the　candle　of　the　world。
  SKETCHES　CHAPTER　I　…　THE　SATIRIST
  MY　companion　enjoyed　a　cheap　reputation　for　wit　and　insight。　　　He　was　by　habit　and　repute　a　satirist。　　If　he　did　　occasionally　condemn　anything　or　anybody　who　richly　deserved　　it；　and　whose　demerits　had　hitherto　escaped；　it　was　simply　　because　he　condemned　everything　and　everybody。　　While　I　was　　with　him　he　disposed　of　St。　Paul　with　an　epigram；　shook　my　　reverence　for　Shakespeare　in　a　neat　antithesis；　and　fell　foul　　of　the　Almighty　Himself；　on　the　score　of　one　or　two　out　of　　the　ten　commandments。　　Nothing　escaped　his　blighting　censure。　　　At　every　sentence　he　overthrew　an　idol；　or　lowered　my　　estimation　of　a　friend。　　I　saw　everything　with　new　eyes；　and　　could　only　marvel　at　my　former　blindness。　　How　was　it　　possible　that　I　had　not　before　observed　A's　false　hair；　B's　　selfishness；　or　C's　boorish　manners？　　I　and　my　companion；　　methought；　walked　the　streets　like　a　couple　of　gods　among　a　　swarm　of　vermin；　for　every　one　we　saw　seemed　to　bear　openly　　upon　his　brow　the　mark　of　the　apocalyptic　beast。　　I　half　　expected　that　these　miserable　beings；　like　the　people　of　　Lystra；　would　recognise　their　betters　and　force　us　to　the　　altar；　in　which　case；　warned　by　the　late　of　Paul　and　　Barnabas；　I　do　not　know　that　my　modesty　would　have　prevailed　　upon　me　to　decline。　　But　there　was　no　need　for　such　churlish　　virtue。　　More　blinded　than　the　Lycaonians；　the　people　saw　no　　divinity　in　our　gait；　and　as　our　temporary　godhead　lay　more　　in　the　way　of　observing　than　healing　their　infirmities；　we　　were　content　to　pass　them　by　in　scorn。
  I　could　not　leave　my　companion；　not　from　regard　or　even　from　　interest；　but　from　a　very　natural　feeling；　inseparable　from　　the　case。　　To　understand　it；　let　us　take　a　simile。　　Suppose　　yourself　walking　down　the　street　with　a　man　who　continues　to　　sprinkle　the　crowd　out　of　a　flask　of　vitriol。　　You　would　be　　much　diverted　with　the　grimaces　and　contortions　of　his　　victims；　and　at　the　same　time　you　would　fear　to　leave　his　arm　　until　his　bottle　was　empty；　knowing　that；　when　once　among　the　　crowd；　you　would　run　a　good　chance　yourself　of　baptism