THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.* THE Pagrirn's Progress is always a picture-book
to the mind of its reader. To the child, who reads the story of Christian with eager, unaccountably solemn pleasure, and. to whom it is all as real as Robinson Crusoe, a whole world. of pictures form them- selves, in which the ordinary objects of his every-day life mix themselves up with the grim or the beautiful images that the book suggests to hie fancy. To the mature reader, going over the old ground with a fond. remembrance of the old enchantment, but now following out the allegory with the accompaniment and distraction of all the criticism that has dissected it, and to some extent destroyed its effect, come many pictures, too. They are not like those which illustrate the pages for the child,—memory and experience, doubt and conscience, have each a share in the drawing of them ; but we find that Bunyan's fancies do, as lie says in his "Apology," "stick like burrs," and it is with feelings altogether exceptional that we "lay his book, our head, and heart together."
Of all revivals, none could be more welcome than that of the great allegory in a guise "rich, not gaudy," with all modern appliances cunningly devised to give it the old look, soberly splendid. Such is the 6dition do lure which takes precedence among the Christmas books of 1879. It is beautifully printed, on paper with the old "feel," but the new evenness and white- ness, and beautifully bound in white vellum with gold lines and lettering,—a delightful book to look at and to touch. We turn over its pages carefully, with all the pleasure that such a fine specimen of the art of book-producing gives, and. lingering long over the solemn, quaint conceits, look Curiously at the illustations, to see whether they realise those conceits to us. If the drawings be only equal to the book and its binding, the ideal will have been reached.. But this is not so ; only a few among the hundred. woodcuts are quite satisfactory, the greater number arc common-place, failing, as it seems to us, to catch either the quaint simplicity of form or the spiritual meaning of Bunyan ; while some are altogether un- worthy of a place in a work on which so much care and pains have been bestowed. If there were no other fault than the want of concert between the artists employed on this work, that would be serious, for Mr. Barnard's Christian has not the ;slightest resemblance, either in face, figure, or expression, to Mr. Dalziel's or Mr. Townley Green's ; the conception of the first is mystical, that of the second is medizeval, that of the third is modern, and, we must say, common-place in the extreme. "He brake his mind to his wife and. children," one of the most pathetic passages in thebook, and full of the loneliness and direness of the Pilgrim's struggle, is illustrated by a drawing which might as -readily represent a tidy housewife impressing upon her pedlar spouse, just starting off, laden with his trim pack, the last * The Pirt prim's Narita from this Prortd to that which is to Come, By John 'Bunyan. With 100 Illustrations by Frederick Barnard and others, engraved by Daleiel Brothers. Loudon: Stream and Co.
items in household necessaries which he is to bring back front his trip. " His burden fell off his back and began to tumble," is illustrated by a design which is simply absurd. Christian, in knickerbockers and a felt-hat, very like a stout German tourist, gazes at a wayside cross, while his pack lies on the ground, just as a temporarily-discarded knapsack might lie. The landscape is strangely ill-drawn—a rolling hill on one side is apparently made of the same material as Christian's pack— and does not bear the least resemblance to the description of the highway fenced. on either side with a wall that was called Salvation, with an ascending place, whereon stood a cross, and below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. Mr. Townley Green not only gives us a Christian utterly unlike Mr. Brewtnall's—the latter, as the "man clothed with rags," is the first picture, and the key-note—but he makes his own representations of Christian unlike each other. The knight who "could not rise again until Faithful came up to help him" (Faithful is like Farmer Hodge taking a stroll on a Sunday), is neither like the tourist- aforesaid, nor like the stolid. person to whom comes Hopeful. Not one of the artists who have drawn Christian as a knight has taken Bunyan's view of him in that eh exacter, if, as we venture to think it is plain, Bunyan's notion was that of a Cromwellian soldier, Mr. Dalziel draws him, when he and Hope- ful, in the dungeon of Giant Despair, "continued. together in the dark that day, in their sad and doleful condition," like a phantom warrior of German legend, surrounded with all the swarming, hideous things of darkness; and makes Hopeful a foolish-faced fellow. No one could. take comfort from com- panionship with, such a chin ! There is utter caving-in in it, and in the feeble, half-drawn hand. Of Mr. Dalziel's Christian crossing the river, over his knees in slushy water, end holding on to very spiky bulrushes, while dolorous fiends scratch their - elbows in their vexation at his agape, and a female face, like nothing in nature or art except the illustrations to Mrs. Allen's Hair Restorer, looks carefully away from him out of the clouds, we fear we can only say that it is preposterous. The sub- ject must depend for all its meaning and beauty on Christian's face, when " he brake out with a loud. voice, Oh ! I see him again." We look at this drawing, and. we see Christian's clumsy armour, and. his nose and upper-lip showing beneath his helmet, not a trace of any expression, no eyes wherewith to see "Him," and not the faintest indication of anything or person seen. Hopeful, with a look of smug curiosity, leans on Christian's shoulder, and that is all. It is hardly fair to Mr. Barnard's more loftily conceived and. far more carefully .worked out drawings, to have placed them in contact with these, and, indeed, with many of the others. Mr. Brewtnall's drawings, with the sole exception of one which re- presents the fate of Ignorance, and. which is also very ill cut, are admirable ; and " the King's Trumpeter," by Mr. J. D. Linton, is a noble and beautiful piece of work. "Mr. Valiant- for-Truth," by the same artist, is also remarkably fine, as is his "Old Honest."
Of IVir. Barnard's drawings there is much to be said, although he sometimes, as, for instance, in his Giant Despair and the Jury, borders out of place on the grotesque. The judge's name was Lord Hate-Good." is, in our opinion, quite the best thing in the book, full of power, marvellously: easy and im- pressive, and in the pose of the wicked man's figure, in the grasping hand in which the arm of the chair of justice terminates, there are remarkable originality and. force, His single figures are almost invariably good, — Mistrust, Timorous, Watchful the Porter, Pride, Arrogance, Self-Conceit, Worldly Glory, Heedless, and. Talkative are only a few among the excellent ones of this kind. " Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter," reminds us of Cats, in the deliberateness and posi- tiveness of its allegory. Obstinate and Pliable are perfectly typical ; they need no label. Mr. Barnard has done his part of this important and interesting task so well, and has had some able help, so that it is much to 'be regretted a little more discretion was not used, so as to secure an entirely satisfactory result.
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