"Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Celestial Railroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

Before our talk on this subject came to a conclusion, we were
rushing by the place where Christian's burthen fell from his
shoulders, at the sight of the Cross. This served as a theme for Mr.
Smooth-it-away, Mr. Live-for-the-world, Mr. Hide-sin-in-the-heart, Mr.
Scaly-conscience, and a knot of gentlemen from the town of
Shun-repentance, to descant upon the inestimable advantages
resulting from the safety of our baggage. Myself, and all the
passengers indeed, joined with great unanimity in this view of the
matter; for our burthens were rich in many things esteemed precious
throughout the world; and especially, we each of us possessed a
great variety of favorite Habits, which we trusted would not be out of
fashion, even in the polite circles of the Celestial City. It would
have been a sad spectacle to see such an assortment of valuable
articles tumbling into the sepulchre. Thus pleasantly conversing on
the favorable circumstances of our position, as compared with those of
past pilgrims, and of narrow-minded ones at the present day, we soon
found ourselves at the foot of the Hill Difficulty. Through the very
heart of this rocky mountain a tunnel has been constructed, of most
admirable architecture, with a lofty arch and a spacious double-track;
so that, unless the earth and rocks should chance to crumble down,
it will remain an eternal monument of the builder's skill and
enterprise. It is a great though incidental advantage, that the
materials from the heart of the Hill Difficulty have been employed
in filling up the Valley of Humiliation; thus obviating the
necessity of descending into that disagreeable and unwholesome hollow.

"This is a wonderful improvement, indeed," said I. "Yet I should
have been glad of an opportunity to visit the Palace Beautiful, and be
introduced to the charming young ladies- Miss Prudence, Miss Piety,
Miss Charity, and the rest- who have the kindness to entertain
pilgrims there."

"Young ladies!" cried Mr. Smooth-it-away, as soon as he could speak
for laughing. "And charming young ladies! Why, my dear fellow, they
are old maids, every soul of them- prim, starched, dry, and angular-
and not one of them, I will venture to say, has altered so much as the
fashion of her gown, since the days of Christian's pilgrimage."

"Ah, well, said I, much comforted, "then I can very readily
dispense with their acquaintance."

The respectable Apollyon was now putting on the steam at a
prodigious rate; anxious, perhaps, to get rid of the unpleasant
reminiscences connected with the spot where he had so disastrously
encountered Christian. Consulting Mr. Bunyan's road-book, I
perceived that we must now be within a few miles of the Valley of
the Shadow of Death; into which doleful region, at our present
speed, we should plunge much sooner than seemed at all desirable. In
truth, I expected nothing better than to find myself in the ditch on
one side, or the quag on the other. But on communicating my