this in John, I say, that we did so tug and strive; he pulled, and I
pulled, but, God be praised! I overcame him; I got sweetness from it.
Oh, many a pull hath my heart had with Satan for this blessed sixth
chapter of John!" Who does not here call to mind the struggle between
Christian and Apollyon in the valley!

That was no fancy sketch; it was the narrative of the author's own
grapple with the Spirit of Evil. Like his ideal Christian, he "conquered
through Him that loved him." Love wrought the victory the Scripture of
Forgiveness overcame that of Hatred.

He never afterwards relapsed into that state of religious melancholy from
which he so hardly escaped. He speaks of his deliverance as the waking
out of a troublesome dream. His painful experience was not lost upon
him; for it gave him, ever after, a tender sympathy for the weak, the
sinful, the ignorant, and desponding. In some measure, he had been
"touched with the feeling of their infirmities." He could feel for those
in the bonds of sin and despair, as bound with them. Hence his power as
a preacher; hence the wonderful adaptation of his great allegory to all
the variety of spiritual conditions. Like Fearing, he had lain a month
in the Slough of Despond, and had played, like him, the long melancholy
bass of spiritual heaviness. With Feeble-mind, he had fallen into the
hands of Slay-good, of the nature of Man-eaters: and had limped along his
difficult way upon the crutches of Ready-to-halt. Who better than
himself could describe the condition of Despondency, and his daughter
Much-afraid, in the dungeon of Doubting Castle? Had he not also fallen
among thieves, like Little-faith?

His account of his entering upon the solemn duties of a preacher of the
Gospel is at once curious and instructive. He deals honestly with