“Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or to stand his ground.”—Pilgrim’s Progress.
Our Pilgrim rose early, with a heart full of hope. He determined not to quit the house till he had seen Mr. Searle or his daughter again, and waited in the hall till they should come down. Mark’s attention was at once riveted by what he had never seen before—a complete suit of armour hung against the wall; and while he was looking at it, and admiring its various parts, the master of the house approached him unobserved.
“That is a fine suit of armour,” said Mr. Searle, “such as was worn in the time of the Crusades, when warlike pilgrims went to the Holy Land. Perhaps you have never heard of such?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Mark, modestly.
“There is the helmet, you see, to protect the head; the mail to cover the body and breast; the weighty
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 sword, and the pointed shield. You observe the red cross upon it?”
The looks of Mark showed the interest that he took.
“We’re not done with fighting yet,” said the old gentleman, in a quaint manner which was peculiar to him. “While our three old enemies—the world, the flesh, and the devil—are lying in ambush to attack us, and the Holy Land which we hope to gain is before us, we must be armed pilgrims, ay, and fighting pilgrims too!”
“Pray go on, sir,” said Mark, as the old gentleman stopped; “I so like to hear of these things.”
“You see that our Leader has not sent us into battle unprovided. We have the Helmet of Proof, the Hope of Salvation, to prevent sinful doubts from wounding the head. Then the Breastplate of Righteousness to guard us; for we may be full of knowledge, and quite correct in our belief, but if we give way to wilful sin, of what avail is the soundness of the head when the heart is pierced by the fiery dart? Nor must we neglect the Girdle of Truth, nor the preparation of the Gospel of Peace for our feet.”
“That is a part of the armour which I do not understand,” said Mark.
“No? Long before you are as old as I, I hope that you will experimentally understand it. Yet I should think that you had known already what it is to tread some of the rough ways of life.”
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Mark heartily assented to this.
“And every one knows the difference between walking with shoes and without them. Were I barefoot, I should start if I trod on a thorn, I should bleed if I struck against a sharp-edged stone; and so it is with the people of this world who are not shod with the Preparation of Peace. I have known the smallest thing worry and fret them; they were as wretched from one small brier in their path, as if it had been one labyrinth of thorns.”
“And are all Christians safe from these little vexations?”
“I can’t say that,” replied the old gentleman, “I can’t say that. There are many who cannot tread down small difficulties, but go on their whole way to heaven shrinking and starting at the least of them. But it strikes me that is because, while they have put on all the rest of the armour of God, they have neglected the sandals for the feet.
“Well, to proceed with our description of the armoury of heaven—We come next to the most wonderful, the most powerful of weapons—the Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Now this flashed so bright, and its edge was so sharp, in the days of early Christianity, that many were its conquests in various parts of the world, and old idolatry fell fast before it. But when the great Enemy found that it could not be withstood, he devised a deep-laid scheme to destroy its effect, and
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 made a curious sheath, all covered with jewels and gold; and the name of this sheath was Superstition. In this, for many ages, was the Word of God buried; and though flashes of its brightness shone out here and there, it was almost quite hidden from the eyes of the people, till Wickliffe, and Luther, and many Reformers beside—some yielding up their blood and their lives for the truth—drew it from its fatal scabbard, clear and glittering again; and it sent forth a flash at its unsheathing that was seen over almost all Europe, and enlightened the distant shores of the New World.
“And now the last thing that we come to is the strong shield Faith. Without this neither helmet nor breastplate could have power to resist the shafts of the Enemy. St. Peter threw it aside in a moment of fear, and instantly his righteousness was pierced through and through. And it is not only in battle that our faith is precious; we pillow our head upon it when we rest, and when we take water from the wells of salvation, it is in the hollow of this shield alone that we can raise it to our thirsting lips.”
Ellen now came down-stairs, with her Bible in her hand; that Bible which Mark had prized so dearly, and parted with so very unwillingly.
“I could not have the heart to deprive you of this,” said she; “take it, and keep it, and may you ever find it to be your best comforter and guide.”
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With what grateful joy Mark replaced the Bible in his bosom, and with what a courageous heart, about an hour after, he set forth to ask his mother’s consent to remaining with Mr. Searle! He had very little doubt of obtaining it, or he would hardly have advanced with such a light, joyous step. When he had quitted the town, and found himself on the open plain, he gave vent to his happy emotions in songs of praise. We are commanded in everything to give thanks; let us never forget to do so when all seems smiling around us; no—and even when mists fall, and tempests gather over our heads, let us still remember in everything to give thanks.
How many thoughts were awakened in the Pilgrim’s mind, as again he approached his home! There was the stile where the Bible had been found; there the stone upon which he had sat to read it, and felt such terror flash upon his mind at the words, “The soul that sinneth, it shall die;” there was the piece of ground which the children had been weeding, when he warned them, but vainly, to flee from the wrath to come. There was not a thistle now left on the spot; and as he looked at the earth, all cleared and prepared for seed, Mark silently prayed that the grace of God might likewise so prepare and make ready the hearts of his own little sister and brothers. He could see over the fields, at a little distance, the old ruin where he had first met Mr. Ewart;
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 not a day had passed, since that meeting, in which Mark had not prayed with grateful affection for him whose words had been such a blessing to his soul.
And now Mark stood at the door of the cottage; a loud, coarse voice which he heard from within announced to him, before he reached it, that John Dowley had returned. There were other things to show that a change had taken place, of which Mark became aware as he entered the cottage. A large pewter pot stood at the door, a black bottle and dirty pack of cards appeared on the table, a joint of meat was roasting before the fire, and Ann, who started with surprise on seeing him, wore a silk shawl and golden ear-rings. John must have returned with his pockets full of money.
He was sitting at the table, a short, stout-built man, with a louring expression in his bleared eye, and a face flushed by intemperance; no one who beheld them together would have imagined him to be the father of the pale, thoughtful, intellectual boy, to whose greeting he returned no answer but something resembling a growl. Mark fancied that Ann looked sorry to see him; but that, perhaps, was no sign of unkindness. Jack, Madge, and Ben, sprang eagerly forward, full of news, and of things to show him.
“See, Mark, what father has brought me!”
“We’re getting so rich now!”
“Look at my brooch and my bracelets!”
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Such were the sort of exclamations which, uttered all together, took the ............