conscience, and loaded her with guilt--it was then that Secret knocked at
her door. "Next morning," so her opening history runs, "when she was up,
and had prayed to God, and talked with her children awhile, one knocked
hard at the door to whom she spake out, saying, If thou comest in God's
name, come in. So he who was at the door said, Amen, and opened the
door, and saluted her with, Peace be to this house. The which when he
had done, he said, Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I am come? Then
she blushed and trembled, also her heart began to wax warm with desires
to know whence he came, and what was his errand to her. So he said unto
her, My name is Secret, I dwell with those that are high. It is talked
of where I dwell as if thou hadst a desire to go thither; also, there is
a report that thou art aware now of the evil thou formerly didst to thy
husband in hardening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of thy
babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to
tell thee that He is a God ready to forgive, and that He taketh delight
to multiply to pardon offences. He would also have thee know that He
inviteth thee to come into His presence, even to His table, and that He
will there feed thee with the fat of His house, and with the heritage of
Jacob thy father. Christiana at all this was greatly abashed in herself,
and she bowed her head to the ground, while her visitor proceeded and
said, Christiana, here is a letter for thee which I have brought from thy
husband's King. So she took it and opened it, and, as she opened it, it
smelt after the manner of the best perfume; also it was written in
lettering of gold. The contents of the letter was to this effect, that
the King would have her do as did Christian her husband, for that was the
way to come to the city and to dwell in His presence with joy for ever.
At this the good woman was completely overcome. So she said to her
visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you that we may go
and worship this King? Then said the heavenly visitor, Christiana, the
bitter is before the sweet. Thou must through troubles, as did he that