chuse mine own things, I would chuse never to think of those things
more; but when I would be doing of that which is best, that which is
worst is with me.

_Prud._ Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were vanquished,
which at other times are your perplexity?

_Chr._ Yes, but that is seldom; but they are to me golden hours in
which such things happen to me.

_Prud._ Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at
times, as if they were vanquished?

_Chr._ Yes, when I think what I saw at the Cross, that will do it; and
when I look upon my broidered Coat, that will do it; also when I look
into the Roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my
thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

_Prud._ And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount
_Zion_?

_Chr._ Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the
Cross; and there I hope to be rid of all those things that to this day
are in me an annoyance to me; there, they say, there is no death; and
there I shall dwell with such Company as I like best. For to tell you
truth, I love him, because I was by him eased of my Burden, and I am
weary of my inward sickness; I would fain be where I shall die no
more, and with the Company that shall continually cry, _Holy, Holy,
Holy_.

Then said _Charity_ to _Christian_, Have you a family? Are you a
married man?

_Chr._ I have a Wife and four small Children.

_Char._ And why did you not bring them along with you?

_Chr._ Then _Christian_ wept, and said, Oh, how willingly would I have
done it, but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on
Pilgrimage.

_Char._ But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to
have shewen them the danger of being behind.

_Chr._ So I did, and told them also what God had shewed to me of the
destruction of our City; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and
they believed me not.

_Char._ And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to
them?

_Chr._ Yes, and that with much affection; for you must think that my
Wife and poor Children were very dear unto me.

_Char._ But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of
destruction? For I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you.

_Chr._ Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in
my countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the
apprehension of the Judgment that did hang over our heads; but a