work. Christian’s sins take an actual form
in the burden on his back. Every personage whom
he meets on his journey, and every place through which
he passes appears to the mind of the reader with the
vividness of actual experience. The child or
the laborer reads the “Pilgrim’s Progress”
as a record of adventures undergone by a living man;
the scholar forgets the art which has raised the picture
before his mind, in a sense of contact with the subject
portrayed. This is the triumph of a great genius,
and it is a triumph to which no other writer has attained
to the same degree. Other allegorists have pleased
the fancy or gratified the understanding, but Bunyan
occupies at once the imagination, the reason and the
heart of his reader. Defoe’s power of giving
life to fictitious scenes and personages has not been
surpassed by that of any other novelist. But
Defoe’s scenes and characters were of a nature
familiar to his readers, and therefore easily realized.
In the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” strange
and unreal regions become well-known places, and moral
qualities distinct human beings. Evangelist, who
puts Christian on the way to the Wicked Gate; Pliable,
who deserts him at the first difficulty; Help, who
pulls him out of the Slough of Despond; Mr. Worldly
Wiseman, who shows him an easy way to be rid of his
burden, are all life-like individuals. Timorous,
Talkative, Vain Confidence, Giant Despair, are not
mere personifications, but distinct human beings with
whom every reader of the “Pilgrim’s Progress”
feels an intimate acquaintance. Not less real
is the impression produced by the various scenes through
which the journey of Christian conducts him. The
Slough of Despond, the Wicket Gate, the House of the
Interpreter, the Hill Difficulty, have been familiar
localities to many generations of men, who have watched
Christian’s struggle with Apollyon in the Valley
of Humiliation, and followed his footsteps as they
trod the Valley of the Shadow of Death, as they passed
through the dangers of Vanity Fair, and brought him
at last to the Celestial City, and the welcome of the
Shining Ones.
The “Pilgrim’s Progress” and the
“Holy War” are not as allegories entirely
perfect, but they probably gain in religious effect,
as much as they lose from a literary point of view,
in those passages where the allegorical disguise is
not sustained. The simplicity and power of their
language are alone sufficient to give them an important
place in English literature. Throughout the “Pilgrim’s
Progress” are evidences of a strong human sympathy,
and a kindly indulgence on the part of the author
for the weak and erring among his fellow-men.
Ignorance, to be sure, is cast into the bottomless
pit; but as the work taught a spiritual perfection,
it could not afford to encourage the willingly ignorant
by bestowing a pardon on their representative.
Bunyan himself was distinguished for a general sympathy
with his fellow-men which the narrowness of Puritanism
had failed to impair. The sad words in which