Christian's fierce conflict with Apollyon came to pass just after he had descended into the Valley of Humiliation, "catching a slip or two by the way," a point in the story which shows Bunyan's wonderful knowledge of human nature and Christian experience. Eben had fondly imagined that, when he had acknowledged his faults and asked forgiveness of those he had offended, his task was done, but he was to find himself mistaken. His enemy was not vanquished, but only lying in ambush. Pride whispered to him that he had humbled himself needlessly as well as in vain, that he had been right all the time, that it was perfectly proper for him to employ all his leisure-time in learning, and that if Flora had not been very selfish she would have done anything rather than have him interrupted. Mr. Antis and Jeduthun had also been very unkind to him, and had made a great fuss about nothing, and, in short, he, Eben, was more ill-used than any one had ever been before.
Well as he knew Flora and her moods, the reproach she had cast upon his religion cut him to the quick, and all the more because he was conscious that there was some truth in it. He had neglected his religious duties; his Bible had remained unread in private; his prayers had been cold and formal, and, for the first time, his Sunday-school lessons had been forgotten, and only hastily looked over at the very last moment. He had suffered his armour to become dim and his sword to rust in the scabbard, and now that he needed them most they seemed likely to fail him.
But Eben's faith was a very real and strong faith, and he had the fixed habit of telling himself the truth about himself. There was no use, he very well knew, in trying to fight the battle in his own strength, and he did not try. He carried all his troubles to the place where he was wont to carry them, confessing all his faults and shortcomings, and praying for forgiveness for himself and the spirit to forgive others. When he arose, after a long time, his face was sad. He had not found the comfort he had hoped for. But he said to himself that that must come in time, and lying down at last, he was soon asleep.
[CHAPTER IX.]
THE OLD GENTLEMAN.
FLORA was later in falling asleep than usual, and consequently overslept herself in the morning, and when she came down at last she was far more vexed than pleased to find the fire all made, the table set, the breakfast in a good state of forwardness, and Eben splitting kindling wood in the shed, instead of reading every moment till breakfast-time as had been his custom of late.
"Why didn't you call me?" was Flora's sharp greeting.
"You seemed so tired we thought we would let you sleep," said Mary Clarke; "so Eben and I got the breakfast. Everything that is right I did, and everything that is wrong he did."
"No such thing," called out Eben from the shed. "Don't you believe it, Flossy. She would have drowned the coffee, if I hadn't stopped her, and she didn't know whether the pork chops ought to be fried or broiled."
All this banter was not to Flora's taste. She chose to take it as a sign that Eben and Mary were leagued against her, and resented it accordingly.