llowing
rule, "Trust in the Lord, and do good," they would take the first
half, and make themselves easy with a general sort of trust, that
through the mercy of the King all would go well with them, though they
themselves did nothing. And on the other hand, many made sure that a
few good works of their own would carry them safely to the Happy land,
though they did _not_ trust in the Lord, nor place any faith in his
word: so they took the second half of the spliced direction. Thus some
perished by a lazy faith, and others by a working pride.

A large party of Pharisees now appeared, who had so neglected their
lamp that they did not see their way at all, though they fancied
themselves to be full of light; they kept up appearances so well as to
delude others, and most effectually to delude themselves with a notion
that they might be found in the right way at last. In this dreadful
delusion they went on to the end, and till they were finally plunged
in the dark valley, never discovered the horrors which awaited them on
the dismal shore. It was remarkable, that while these Pharisees were
often boasting how bright their light burned, in order to get the
praise of men, the humble travellers, whose steady light showed their
good works to others, refused all commendation, and the brighter their
light shined before men, so much the more they insisted that they
ought to glory, not in themselves, but their Father which is in
heaven.

I now set myself to observe what was the particular let, molestation,
and hinderance, which obstructed particular travellers in their
endeavors to enter in at the Strait gate. I remarked a huge portly
man, who seemed desirous of getting in, but he carried about him such
a vast provision of bags full of gold, and had on so many rich
garments which stuffed him out so wide, that though he pushed and
squeezed like one who had really a mind to get in, yet he could not
possibly do so. Then I heard a voice crying, "Woe to him that loadeth
himself with thick clay." The poor man felt something was wrong, and
even went so far as to change some of his more cumbersome vanities
into others which seemed less bulky; but still he and his pack were
much too wide for the gate.

He would not, however, give up the matter so easily, but began to
throw away a little of the coarser part of his baggage; but still I
remarked, that he threw away none of the vanities which lay near his
heart. He tried again, but it would not