The
Prince remarked, with a smile, that he was a loser by the transaction.
Day after day, as I walked the streets of Vanity, my manners and
deportment became more and more like those of the inhabitants. The
place began to seem like home; the idea of pursuing my travels to
the Celestial City was almost obliterated from my mind. I was reminded
of it, however, by the sight of the same pair of simple pilgrims at
whom we had laughed so heartily, when Apollyon puffed smoke and
steam into their faces, at the commencement of our journey. There they
stood amid the densest bustle of Vanity- the dealers offering them
their purple, and fine linen, and jewels; the men of wit and humor
gibing at them; a pair of buxom ladies ogling them askance; while
the benevolent Mr. Smooth-it-away whispered some of his wisdom at
their elbows, and pointed to a newly-erected temple- but there were
these worthy simpletons, making the scene look wild and monstrous,
merely by their sturdy repudiation of all part in its business or
pleasures.
One of them- his name was Stick-to-the-right- perceived in my face,
I suppose, a species of sympathy and almost admiration, which, to my
own great surprise, I could not help feeling for this pragmatic
couple. It prompted him to address me.
"Sir," inquired he, with a sad, yet mild and kindly voice, "do
you call yourself a pilgrim?"
"Yes," I replied, "my right to that appellation is indubitable.
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