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 with his biting liquor。 Now my companion's vitriol was inexhaustible。
It was perhaps the consciousness of this； the knowledge that I was being anointed already out of the vials of his wrath； that made me fall to criticising the critic； whenever we had parted。
After all； I thought； our satirist has just gone far enough into his neighbours to find that the outside is false； without caring to go farther and discover what is really true。 He is content to find that things are not what they seem； and broadly generalises from it that they do not exist at all。 He sees our virtues are not what they pretend they are； and； on the strength of that； he denies us the possession of virtue altogether。 He has learnt the first lesson； that no man is wholly good； but he has not even suspected that there is another equally true； to wit； that no man is wholly bad。 Like the inmate of a coloured star； he has eyes for one colour alone。 He has a keen scent after evil； but his nostrils are plugged against all good； as people plugged their nostrils before going about the streets of the plague…struck city。
Why does he do this？ It is most unreasonable to flee the knowledge of good like the infection of a horrible disease； and batten and grow fat in the real atmosphere of a lazar… house。 This was my first thought； but my second was not like unto it； and I saw that our satirist was wise； wise in his generation； like the unjust steward。 He does not want light； because the darkness is more pleasant。 He does not wish to see the good； because he is happier without it。 I recollect that when I walked with him； I was in a state of divine exaltation； such as Adam and Eve must have enjoyed when the savour of the fruit was still unfaded between their lips； and I recognise that this must be the man's habitual state。 He has the forbidden fruit in his waist…coat pocket； and can make himself a god as often and as long as he likes。 He has raised himself upon a glorious pedestal above his fellows； he has