Ignor. As other good people do, said he. Chr. But what have you to shew at that Gate, that may cause that the Gate should be opened to you? Ignor. I know my Lord's will, and I have been a good liver; I pay every man his own; I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my Country for whither I am going. Chr. But thou camest not in at the Wicket-Gate that is at the head of this way; thou camest in hither through that same crooked Lane, and therefore I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, thou wilt hear laid to thy charge that thou art a Thief and a Robber, instead of getting admittance into the City. Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you not; be content to follow the Religion of your Country, and I will follow the Religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And as for the Gate that you talk of, all the world knows that that is a great way off of our Country. I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it, nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine pleasant Green Lane, that comes down from our Country the next way into the way. When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own Conceit, he said to Hopeful whisperingly, There is more hopes of a fool than of him. And said, moreover, When he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to everyone that he is a fool. What, shall we talk further with him, or outgo him at present and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good of him? So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. I saw then in my Dream that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth behind. Chr. Ay, ay, I see him; he careth not for our company. Hope. But I tro it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto. Chr. That's true, but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise. Hope. That I think he doth, but, however, let us tarry for him. So they did. Then Christian said to him, Come away man, why do you stay so behind? Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a great deal than in Company, unless I like it the better. Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell you he cared not for our company? But, however, said he, come up, and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you? How stands it between God and your Soul now? Ignor. I hope well; for I am always full of good motions, that come into my mind to comfort me as I walk. Chr. What good motions? pray tell us. Ignor. Why, I think of God and Heaven. Chr. So do the Devils and damned Souls. Ignor. But I think of them and desire them. So do many that are never like to come there. The Soul of the Sluggard desires, and hath nothing. Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them. Chr. That I doubt, for leaving all is an hard matter-yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and Heaven. Ignor. My heart tells me so. Chr. The wise man says, He that trusts his own heart is a fool. Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good one. Chr. But how dost thou prove that? Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of Heaven. Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness, for a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing for which he yet has no ground to hope. Ignor. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore my hope is well grounded. Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together? Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the River-side; but he soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that place one Vainhope, a Ferry-man, that with his Boat helped him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the Hill to come up to the Gate, only he came alone; neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the Gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the Gate, Whence came you? and what would you have? He answered, I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our Streets. Then they asked him for his Certificate, that they might go and shew it to the King. So he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none? But the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw in the side of the Hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to Hell even from the Gates of Heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold it was a Dream. So the Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. Road was full of People to see her take her Journey. But behold all the Banks beyond the River were full of Horses and Chariots, which were come down from above to accompany her to the City Gate. So she came forth and entered the River, with a beckon of Farewell to those that followed her to the River-side. The last word she was heard to say here was, I come, Lord, to be with thee and bless thee. So her Children and Friends returned to their place, for that those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the Gate with all the Ceremonies of Joy that her Husband Christian had done before her. * * * * In process of time there came a Post to the Town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he enquired him out, and said to him, I am come to thee in the name of him whom thou hast loved and followed, tho' upon Crutches; and my message is to tell thee that he expects thee at his Table to sup with him in his Kingdom the next day after Easter, wherefore prepare thyself for this Journey. Then he also gave him a Token that he was a true Messenger, saying, I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord. After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow Pilgrims, and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his Will. And because he had nothing to bequeath to them that should survive him but his Crutches and his good Wishes, therefore thus he said, These Crutches I bequeath to my Son that shall tread in my steps, with a hundred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have done. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his Conduct and Kindness, and so addressed himself to his Journey. When he came at the Brink of the River he said, Now I shall have no more need of these Crutches, since yonder are Chariots and Horses for me to ride on. The last words he was heard to say was, Welcome Life. So he went his way. The test, indeed, of a good Allegory is that it is also a good Myth, or story, for those who do not understand, or care for it, as a vehicle of doctrine. To this test the Parables spoken by Jesus appear to have been consciously accommodated. He often spoke to the common people in Parables without interpreting them. These Parables were received by the common people as Myths; afterwards He interpreted them as Allegories to His disciples. Many of His Parables, indeed, as was suggested above, have no interpretation. Stories like the Parables of the Prodigal Son, of the Rich Man who proposed to build barns, of Dives and Lazarus, of the Good Samaritan, are not Allegories to be interpretedfor they have no "other meaning," but rather little dramas "which reduce to a single incident what is continually occurring in man's experience." 1 And even those Parables which are Allegories and admit of detailed doctrinal interpretation, such as the Parable of the Sower, have an intrinsic value apart from the doctrine which they convey the value of pictures in which common things stand reflected-stand as images, or doubles, for our wonder, in another world, under another sky.2 When one looks at Millet's "Sower," it is easy to put oneself in the place of those who heard Parables gladly without asking for the interpretation of them. 4 Let us now look at Plato's two most elaborate " Allegories -the "Cave," and the "Disorderly Crew"; and let us remind ourselves of the features of the former by first referring to Republic, 532 B, C, where a summary of the whole is given in one sentence:—ἡ δέ γε, ἦν δ ̓ ἐγώ, λύσις τε ἀπὸ τῶν δεσμῶν καὶ μεταστροφὴ ἀπὸ τῶν σκιῶν ἐπὶ τὰ εἴδωλα καὶ τὸ φῶς καὶ ἐκ τοῦ καταγείου εἰς τὸν ἥλιον ἐπάνοδος, καὶ ἐκεῖ πρὸς μὲν τὰ ζῷά τε καὶ φυτὰ καὶ τὸ τοῦ ἡλίου 1 Réville, Prolégomènes de l'Hist. des Religions (Engl. Transl. by Squire), p. 110. 2 See Shelley's poem, The Recollection, quoted infra, p. 395, where I attempt to show that a charm like that belonging to reflected images, or doubles, of natural objects-as of trees (or of Narcissus himself) in a pool-enters into the effect produced by the word-pictures of Poetry. 3 In the gallery of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. 4 Republic, 514 a ff. φῶς ἔτι ἀδυναμία βλέπειν, πρὸς δὲ τὰ ἐν ὕδασι φαντάσματα θεῖα καὶ σκιὰς τῶν ὄντων, ἀλλ ̓ οὐκ εἰδώλων σκιὰς δι ἑτέρου τοιούτου φωτὸς ὡς πρὸς ἥλιον κρίνειν ἀποσκιαζομένας, πᾶσα αὕτη ἡ πραγματεία τῶν τεχνῶν, ἃς διήλθομεν, ταύτην ἔχει τὴν δύναμιν καὶ ἐπαναγωγὴν τοῦ βελτίστου ἐν ψυχῇ πρὸς τὴν τοῦ ἀρίστου ἐν τοῖς οὖσι θέαν, ὥσπερ τότε τοῦ σαφεστάτου ἐν σώματι πρὸς τὴν τοῦ φανοτάτου ἐν τῷ σωματοειδεῖ τε καὶ ὁρατῷ τόπῳ.-There is a Cave in form of a long tunnel which, retaining throughout the dimensions of its entrance, runs down, with a steep decline, into the earth. Some way down, where the daylight at last fails, a great Fire is burning, and beyond the Fire there is a low wall built across the Cave at right angles to its direction. Over the top of this wall showmen hold up and move about little images of men and animals. The shadows of these images are thrown on the rock with which the Cave ends some way beyond.1 Facing this end-rock of the Cave and the shadows thus thrown on it are Prisoners bound so that they cannot turn round. These Prisoners, whose knowledge is confined to shadows of images, represent people who have nothing better than second-hand, hearsay knowledge of "particular facts." But the "Philosopher" comes down from the daylight into the Cave, and unbinds some of them, and "converts" them-turns them round, so that they see the showmen's little images, the "realities" of these shadows. These converted ones represent people who have direct, first-hand knowledge of "facts." Some of these the Philosopher is able to lead up the steep floor of the Cave, past the Fire, which is the Visible Sun, and out into the daylight, which is the light of the Intelligible Sun, the Good, the source of existence and true knowledge. At first the released prisoners are so dazzled by the daylight that they cannot bear to look at the things illuminated by it-men, animals, trees-much less at the Sun itself, but can look only at shadows of men and animals and trees on the ground, or reflections of them in water. These shadows and reflections, 1 In the Pitt-Rivers Museum at Oxford there is a Javanese Wayang Kulit, used, in the Historical and Mythological Drama, for the production of shadowrepresentations. The shadows of puppets (made of leather) are thrown on a screen, the performer manipulating the puppets from behind, and working their arms by means of sticks. |