■% I s* Bunyan, John, 1628-1688. The works of John Bunyan BR 75 .B7 1855 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/worksofjohnbunya03buny Bunyan, John, 1628-1688. The works of John Bunyan BR 75 .B7 1855 . . , FROM THE LIFE BY R WHITE .' .SEUM - i if§ip #&?!> THE WORKS OF JOHNBUNYAN. INTRODUCTION TO EACH TREATISE, NOTES, SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, TIMES, AND CONTEMPORARIES. VOLUME THIRD. ALLEGORICAL, FIGURATIVE, AND SYMBOLICAL. EDITED BY GEORGE OFFOR, ESQ. BLACKIE AND SON: QUEEN STREET, GLASGOW; SOUTH COLLEGE STREET, EDINBURGH; AND WARWICK SQUARE, LONDON. MDCCCLV. GLASGOW : BLACSIE AND CO., PEINTEHS, VILLAFIELD. CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. Mn TnE author's religious experience and knowledge of the way of salvation, first published in a treatise on the covenants, and enlarged in his Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners ; now completed in an allegory, showing the Christian's journey from time to eternity, under the title of THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. The Introduction by the Editor. Chap. I. Life a pilgrimage through a state of spiritual conflicts; The Pilgrim's Progress a guide to all hea- venward pilgrims ; the author furnished with leisure time to write it, by being for many years shut up in prison for refusing to violate his conscience 1 Chap. II. The Pilgrim's Progress having been written in prison, difficulties were thrown in the way of its publication 4 CuAr. III. Bunyan's extraordinary qualifications to write the pilgrimage, sanctified by prison discipline.. 9 Chap. IV. Bunyan's release from jail, and his publi- cation of The Pilgrim's Progress 10 Chap. V. The inquiry, Was Bunyan assisted in the composition of his Pilgrim's Progress, answered in the negative — 1st, From his own declarations, to which may be added, " I am for drinking water out my own cistern ;"* The opinions of the learned ; an analysis of every work previously published on the same subject, or with a similar title page. For a list of these rare volumes see the Index. In these analyses will be found a genuine picture of Popery as painted by herself , ... 29 Chap. VI. A bibliographical account of all the editions of The Pilgrim's Progress published during the author's life, with notices of the more prominent modern editions, and translations into the languages of nearly all nations 55 Chap. VII. An account of the versions, commentaries, and imitations of The Pilgrim's Progress 62 Chap. VITI. The opinions of many learned men of it3 singular merits, and the causes of its extraordinary popularity 66 Chap. IX. Observations upon some of the most promi- nent parts 71 Synopsis or Contents of the Allegory 77 Exact copies of the twenty woodcuts published in the early editions, with Bunyan's verse under each 79 The Author's apology 85 List of Commentaries on The Pilgrim, and other Works, which have furnished illustrative notes to this edition ; a considerable number of the notes are extracts from the author's Works, with some by the editor ; a view of Bedford bridge over the river Ouse, showing the prison in which the amiable and pious author was incarcerated for more than twelve years, in the prime of his life, rather than sacrifice his con- science by submitting to human laws interfering with Divine worship 88 First Part. Graceless becomes a Christian ; alarmed for the safety of his soul ; is treated by his family as one diseased 89 Guided by Evangelist ; runs towards the Wicket-gate ; is overtaken by Obstinate and Pliable ; persuades Pliable to fly with him 90 * VoL m., p. o'Jb. Fall into tho Slough of Despond ; Pliable returns ; Christian, assisted by Help, goes on ; meets Worldly- wiseman : complains of his burden, and is sent out of his way to the house of Legality ; terrified at Mount Sinai 92 Evangelist appears, and puts him again into the right road ; arrives at the Wicket-gate ; is admitted by Good-will, and sent to the Interpreter's house ; is shown a picture ; a dusty room ; Passion and Patience ; the fire of grace ; the valiant man ; the man in despair ; the trembler 91 Proceeds to the cross ; loses his burden ; angels give him a pardon, new clothing, a mark, and a roll*; tries to alarm three men asleep, but in vain ; meets For- malist and Hypocrisy 102 Ascends the hill Difficulty ; sleeps in the Arbour, and drops his roll ; is awakened, and pursues his journey ; meets Mistrust and Timorous; misses his roll, returns in grief, and recovers it ; goes on to the Palace Beau- tiful ; encouraged by Watchful he passes the lions, and, after examination, is admitted according to the laws of the house ; entertained ; sleeps in the Cham- ber of peace ; sees the study ; the armoury ; the Delectable mountains 104 Enters the Valley of Humiliation ; fights with, and overcomes Apollyon ; conies to the Valley of the Sha- dow of Death ; terrified by the spies ; assaulted by foes who care not for his sword ; betakes himself to another weapon, "All-prayer;" comes out of the valley, and passes the old giants, Pagan and Pope... Ill Overtakes Faithful, a fellow-pilgrim ; hold communion with each other ; converse with Talkative ; Evange- list forewarns them of persecution ; enter Vanity Fair; are maltreated ; imprisoned ; Faithful is tried and burned 117 Christian pursues his journey, and is joined by Hope- ful ; By-ends wishes to join them ; the sophistry of Hold-the-world detected ; Demas tempts them to the Hill Lucre, but they refuse; arrive at the River of the Water of life ; they go into By-path Meadow; follow Vain-confidence; are taken by Giant Despair, and imprisoned in Doubting Castle ; arguments for and against suicide; escape by the Key of Promise; erect a Pillar to caution others 1G2 Arrive at the Delectable Mountains ; entertained by the Shepherds ; are shown Mounts Error, Caution, and Clear ; see the Celestial Gate ; receive some cautions ; fail in attempting to convert Ignorance ; robbery of Little-faith ; meet the Flatterer, and are caught in his net ; released by a Shining One ; meet Atheist H8 Adventures on the Enchanted Ground ; means of watchfulness ; enter the Land of Beulah ; are sick with love ; approach the River of Death ; no bridge; full of fear and dread, but get safely over ; received by angels; admitted to glory 152 Second Part. The Author's way of sending it forth 168 Sagacity relates how Christiana, the widow of Chris- tian, reflects upon her former conduct, feels her danger, and agrees with her children to follow her late husband in pilgrimage ; is encouraged by a secret influence on her mind that she would be re- ceived ; her neighbours dissuade her, but she pre- vails upon one of them, Mercy, to go with her; she | is reviled by her acquaintance 171 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. Get over the Slough of Despond, and are admitted at the Wicket-gate, and rejoice together; they are fed, washed, and sent on their way ; the children eat the enemy's fruit ; are assaulted, but rescued by the Reliever '. 178 Arrive at the Interpreter's house ; shown the signifi- cant rooms, the man who prefers a muck-rake to a celestial crown, the spider in the best room, the hen and chickens, butcher and sheep, the garden, the field, the robin ; the Interpreter's proverbs ; tree rot- ten at the heart; they relate their experience ; Mercy is sleepless for joy; they are washed, which enlivens and strengthens them ; sealed and clothed 184 Great-heart guards them to the house called Beautiful ; pass the Sepulchre where Christian lost his burden ; pardon by word and deed, an important distinction : see Simple, Sloth, and Presumption hanging; names of those that they had ruined ; Hill Difficulty ; By- ways, although stopped and barred up, still entered ; rest in the Arbour, but are afraid to sleep ; still suffer by forgetfulness ; punishment of Timorous and Mis- trust ; Giant Grim slain , 190 Pilgrims arrive at the Palace Beautiful ; Great-heart returns ; they are entertained for a month ; the children catechised ; Mr. Brisk makes love to Mercy ; her sister Bountitul's unhappy marriage ; Matthew sick with the enemy's fruit ; is healed by Dr. Skill ; his prescriptions ; instructive questions ; they are greatly strengthened ; Mr. Great-heart sent to guard them 196 Enter the Valley of Humiliation, and are pleased with it ; shepherd boy's song ; see the place where Chris- tian and Apollyon fought ; come into the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; are greatly terrified ; Giant Maul slain ; find Old Honest, a pilgrim, sleeping ; he joins them ; story of Mr. Fearing ; good men sometimes much in the dark ; he fears no difficul- ties, only lest he should deceive himself; case of Self-will ; a singular sect in the Author's time 205 Are entertained at the House of Gaius ; pilgrims the descendants of the martyrs ; Matthew and Mercy betrothed ; riddles in verse ; Slay-good, a giant, slain ; Feeble-mind rescued ; proves to be related to Mr. Fearing ; Not-right killed with a thunderbolt ; Matthew and Mercy, and James and Phebe, married; Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt join the pilgrims ; profitable converse between Honest and Great-heart 217 Vanity Fair; the death of Faithful had planted a little colony of pilgrims there ; pleasant communion ; courage and an unspotted life essential to pilgrims ; Samuel and Grace, and Joseph and Martha, married; the Monster (state religion ) assaulted and wounded ; believed by some that he will die of his wounds ; pass the place where Faithful was martyred ; the silver mine ; Lot's wife '. 224 Arrive at the river near the Delectable Mountains ; By-path Meadow ; Slay Giant Despair, and Diffi- dence, his wife, and destroy Doubting Castle; release Mr. Despondency and Miss Much-afraid; Great- heart addresses the Shepherds in rhyme; Mounts Marvel, Innocent, and Charity ; see the Hole in the side of the Hill ; Mercy longs for a curious Mirror ; the Pilgrims are adorned ,. 228 Story of Turn-away; find, Valiant-for-truth wounded by thieves ; account of his conversion ; the question debated, that if we shall know ourselves, shall we know others in the future state ? arguments used by relatives to prevent pilgrimage ; the Enchanted Ground ; an arbour called the Slothful's Friend ; in doubt as to the way, the book or map is examined ; Heedless and Bold in a fatal sleep ; surprised by„a solemn noise, they are led to Mr. Stand-fast in prayer, he having been assailed by Madam Bubble... 232 Arrive in the Land of Beulah, and are delighted with celestial visions on the border of the River of Death; Christiana summoned, addresses her guide, and blesses her children and her fellow- pilgrims; her last words ; Mr. Ready-to-halt passes the river ; ?A'" Feeble-mind is called, will make no will, and goes up to the Celestial City ; Despondency and Much- afraid die singing ; Honest dies singing, Grac<; reigns ; Valiant-for-truth and Stand-fast joyfully pass the river, leaving a solemn message to relatives"; joy in heaven on the arrival of the pilgrims ; Chris- tiana's children a blessing to the church 240 , The deep working of the Holy Spirit with the author's soul, in its recovery from ruin to the divine favour, in the form of an allegory called THE HOLT WAR MADE BY SHADDAI UPON DIABOLUS.FOR THE REGAINING OF THE METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD; or, The Losing and Taking again of the Town of Mansoul. Advertisement by the Editor 245 Poetical Preface to the Reader by the Author 251 This Work was originally published in the form of a continuous narrative ; but, to enable the reader more readily to pause and reflect, the Editor has ventured to adopt the plan, first introduced by Mr. Burder, of dividing it into chapters. Chap. I. The original beauty and splendour of Man- soul under Shaddai ; her noble castle ; five gates ; perfection of the inhabitants , the origin of Diabolus ; his pride and fall ; his revenge ; council of war to reduce the town ; Diabolus approaches Eye-gate ; his oration ; Captain Resistance slain ; My Lord Inno- cence killed ; the town taken 255 Chap. II. Diabolus occupies the castle ; deposes the Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, and a wall erected to darken his house ; Mr. Conscience the Recorder put out of office; very obnoxious to Diabolus and the inhabitants ; Mr. Lord- will- be-will heartily espouses the cause of Diabolus, and is made the principal governor; the image of Shaddai defaced, and that of Diabolus set up ; Mr. Lustings made Lord Mayor ; Mr. Forget-good, Recorder; new Aldermen appointed — Messrs. Incredulity, Haughty, Swearing, Whoring, Hard-heart, Pityless, Fury, No-truth, Stand-to-lies, False-peace, Drunkenness, Cheating, and Atheism ; three strongholds built — Defiance, Midnight-hold, and Sweet-sin-hold 260 Chap. III. The Revolution known to king Shaddai; his resentment against Diabolus; his gracious inten- tion of restoring Mansoul ; intimations published, but suppi'essed by Diabolus; his artifices to secure the town and prevent its return to Shaddai 265 Chap. IV. Shaddai sends an army of 40,000 spiritual energies to reduce Mansoul, under the command of Captains Boanerges, Conviction, Judgment, and Execution, who address the inhabitants powerfully, but with little effect ; Diabolus, Incredulity, Ill- pause, and others, interfere to prevent submission ; Prejudice defends Ear-gate, with a guard of sixty deaf men 270 Chap. V. The Captains give battle to the town, which resolutely resists ; they retire to winter quarters ; Tradition, Human Wisdom, and Man's Invention, enlist under Boanerges ; they are taken prisoners, and join Diabolus under Captain Anything ; hostili- ties are renewed, and the town much molested ; a famine and mutiny in Mansoul ; a parley ; proposi- tions made and rejected ; Understanding and Con- science quarrel with Incredulity ; a skirmish 276 Chap. VI. Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience imprisoned ; the besieging officers petition Shaddai for a reinforcement ; it is approved ; Emmanuel, the king's son, is appointed to conquer the town ; marches with a great army, and surrounds Mansoul, which is strongly fortified against him 232 Chap. VII. Emmanuel prepares for war against Man- soul ; Diabolus sends Loth-to-stoop with proposals for peace, which are rejected ; he proposes to patch up a peace by outward reformation, offering to become CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 389 Emmanuel's deputy, this also rejected ; preparations for battle ; Diabolus injures the town ; Ear-gate assaulted, gives way , Emmanuells forces enter the town, and take possession of the Recorder's house ; several Diabolonians killed Cn.vr. VIII. The principal inhabitants hold a con- ference, and agree to petition the prince for their lives ; the castle gates broke open ; triumphal entry of Emmanuel ; Diabolus is bound in chains; the in- habitants, in great misery, petition again and again; a free pardon is published, and universal joy succeeds 290 Chap. IX. The liberated prisoners return to Mansoul with great joy; the inhabitants request Emmanuel to reside among them ; he makes a triumphal entry amid the shouts of the people; the town is new- modelled, and the image of Shaddai again erected... 304 Chap. X. The strongholds of Diabolus destroyed ; the great Diabolonians tried, condemned, and executed, to Ma mold's great joy 309 Chat. XI. Experience is made an officer; the charter renewed and enlarged, with special privileges; minis- try established ; Mr. Conscience the preacher, his duties and rewards specified ; the inhabitants are clad in white ; receive many distinguishing favours from the prince; God's peace appointed to rule; the unexampled felicity of the town •• 317 Chap. XII. Carnal-security prevails; Emmanuel pri- vately withdrawing, Godly-fear detects it, and excites the people to destroy Carnal-security ; they try to induce Emmanuel to return 324 Chap. XIII. The Diabolonians take courage; plots are formed to re-conquer Mansoul ; vices, under virtuous names, are introduced, and do immense mischief; and 20.000 Doubters are raised to surprise the town 330 Chap. XIV. Mr. Prywell discovers the plot; prepara- tions for defence ; more Diabolonians executed ; the Doubters assault Ear-gate, but are repulsed ; the townsmen will not parley ; flattery tried in vain ; Jolly, Griggish, Gripe, and Rakeall, executed; Any- thing and Loosefoot imprisoned 339 Chap. XV. Mjvnsoul makes a rash sortie by night and is worsted; Diabolus attacks Feel-gate, which he forces, and Doubters possess the town, doing incre- dible mischief; Mansoul petitions Emmanuel, and Credence is appointed Lord Lieutenant 348 Chap. XVI. A new plot laid to ruin the town, by riches and prosperity ; Emmanuel appears to assist Man- soul ; the army of Doubters routed ; he enters the town amidst the joyful acclamations of the inhabi tants Chap. XVII. A new army of Woodmen or persecutors attack the town, but are taken by Faith and Patience ; the principal Doubters tried, convicted, and executed CiiAr. XVIII. More Diabolonians condemned; Em- manuel's admirable speech to Mansoul Bunvan's poetical Epilogue to The Holy War; in which he claims The Pilgrim's Progress entirely as his own, and anagramatizes his name 374 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN; or, A Description of the Man that gets to Heaven, together with the Way he runs in, the Marks he goes by; also, Some Directions how to Run so as to Obtain 375 Advertisement by the Editor 375 to Slothful and Careless People 37*3 I. The words opened, and this doctrine laid down, namely, that they that will have heaven, they must run for it 381 II. The word run opened by three Scripture expres- sions— flying, pressing, continuing 381 III. Several reasons for the clearing of the doctrine.... 381 IV. Nine directions how to run so as to obtain 383 V. Nine motives to urge us on in the way 389 VI. Nine uses of this subject 301 VII. Nine provocations to run with the foremost 304 VIII. A Short expostulation 394 r.55 361 3G9 400 THE HOLY CITY, or THE NEW JERUSALEM, wherein its goodly light, walls, gates, angels, and the manner of their standing, are expounded ; also, her length and breadth, together with the golden measur- ing-reed explained, and the glory of all unfolded ; as also the numerousness of its inhabitants, and what the tree and water of life are, by which they arc sustai nod 395 Advertisement by the Editor 395 Dedication to the Godly Reader 897 Dedication to the Learned Reader 898 Dedication to the Captious Reader and to the Mother of Harlots 399 This deeply-interesting Treatise is a Commentary on Rev. xxi. 10-27; and xxii. 1-4 Fjrst, The vision of the Holy City, or gospel church in general : — Returning out of Antichristian captivity ; why the church is called a city ; descends out of heaven ; has the glory of God ; her light 401 Second, A discovery of its defence, entrances, and fashion in particular : — The defence of the city ; the wall ; the gates ; the angels at the gates ; the names written on the gates ; the order of the gates ; the foundations of the wall ; how we are to understand the word twelve ; the measuring line or golden reed ; the city measured ; the gates measured ; the wall measured ; the form and measure of the city 411 Third, A relation of the glory of the city, its walls, gates, and foundations : — The glory of the walls ; the glory of the city ; the glory of the foundations ; the foundations, what they are, and how placed ; the glory of the gates and of the streets ; the city has no temple ; needs not the light of sun or moon 427 Fourth, The inhabitants of the City, their quality and numerousness : — The city secure; the gates always open ; the glory and honour of the nations brought into it ; none but visible saints can enter ■ 413 Fifth, The provision and maintenance of the City : — Its drink the water of life ; whither this water goes, and its extension ; its food the tree of life ; the ease, peace, and tranquillity of the city 450 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED; or, Gospel light fetched out of the Temple at Jerusa- lem, to let us more easily into the glory of New Testament truth 460 Advertisement by the Editor 460 To the Christian Reader ^2 I.-IV. Where the temple was built ; who built it ; how, and of what it was built 465 V.-VIII. Who was to fell the trees and to dig the stones ; in what condition these were when brought ; the foundation ; the richness of the stones which were laid for the foundation 4C6 IX.-XVII. Which way the face of the front of temple stood ; of the courts"; the brazen altar ; the pillars ; the height of the pillars ; the chapiters of the pillars ; the pomegranates; the chains upon these pillars; the lily-work upon the chapiters 4G9 XVIII.-XXIV. Of the fashion of the temple: the out- ward glory ; the porch ; the ornaments of the porch ; the ascent by which they went up to the porch ; the gate of the porch ; the pinnacles of the temple 478 XXV.-XXXV. Of the porters of the temple ; the charge of the porters ; the doors ; the leaves of this gate; what the doors of the temple were made of, and how adorned ; of the wall : the garnishing ; the windows, chambers, and stairs 4*7 XXXVI.-XLVIII. Of the molten sea ; the lavers ; the tables; the instruments wherewith the sacrifices were slain ; the candlesticks and lamps ; the shew- bread; the. snuffers and snuff dishes; the golden tongs ; the altar of incense ; the golden censers 433 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. XLIX.-LXV. Of the golden spoons, bowls, basons, flagons, and cups belonging to the temple ; the chargers ; the goings out ; the singers ; the union of the holy and most holy temple ; the holiest or inner temple ; the vail ; the doors, golden nails, floors, and walls of the inner temple ; the ark of the covenant ; placing of the ark, the mercy-seat, the living waters, and the chains in the oracle or inner temple.. 492 LXVI.-LXX. Of the high-priest, and of his office in the inner temple ; of the high-priest's going alone, and but once a year, into the holiest ; the cherubims ; the figures that were upon the walls 505 A DISCOURSE OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON, showing it to be typical of spiritual things 510' Advertisement by the Editor 510 Chap. I. A distinct building at a great distance from the temple at Jerusalem 512 Chap. II. Of what this house was a type ; the church under persecution in the wilderness 513~ Chap. III. Of the largeness of this house ; a place of defence and not of assault; if afflicted, fire proceed- eth to devour her enemies 515 Chap. IV. Of the materials of which it was built, sweet- scented wood 516 Chap. V. Of the windows, and of what they were types 519 Chap. VI. Of the doors and posts, and their square ; admirable for beauty ; the world striving to ravish and plunder her 522 Chap. VII. Of the repetition of light against light ; Divine light against Antichrist ; all opinions to be submitted to the Word 523 Chap. VIII. Of the golden shields and targets, and what they typified; as King Solomon supplied all this armour, so God arms his saints 525 Chap. IX. Of the vessels of pure gold, not for divine worship, but private use ; sometimes full of bitter draughts, at other times the cup of consolation and of salvation : God's love tokens like honey 527 A most interesting letter from PomponiusAlgerius, an Italian martyr, one of the pillars in God's house 530 Chap. X. The porch of the house capable of holding 1000 men ; a refuge from the storm ; a defence from persecutors; not enough to be content with the porch; we must enter the house 533 Conclusion— Why persecution is allowed of God 536 THE WATER OF LIFE ; or, A Discourse showing the Richness and Glory of the Grace and Spirit of the Gospel, as set forth in Scripture by that term, The Water of Life 538 Advertit«ment by the Editor < 538 The Epistle to the Reader, or Bunyan's Bill of his Master's Water of Life 539 Text— Rev. xxii. 1— The divisions. First, The subject matter. Second, The quantity of this water, "a river." Third, Its source, the throne of God. Fourth,^ Its quality, pure and clear as crystal. The Spirit of grace compared to water 540 The greatness and abundance of the Water of Life ; what a river this is, and inferences to be drawn from the term etvbb. 542 The head or well-spring of the water of lite 545 The nature and quality of this water; pure, clear ; no grudge or upbraiding in it ; comes from God's very heart ; mighty beyond conception ; no fear of excess or of surfeiting here ; the chiefest good, the highest good; conduct influenced by doctrines 551 The application of the whole ; this water of life excel- lent in nature, abundant in quantity, has a glorious head-spring, and a singularly good quality ; therefore ought to be abundantly used ; bless God for provid- ing it, and test all doctrines by it 557 A MAP, showing the Order and Causes of Salvation and Damnation. By John Bunyan, Author of The Pilgrim's Progress. Printed and sold by William Marshall, at the Bable, in Newgate Street, where you may have Dr. Owen's, and Mr. Bunyan's Works. This curious and rare copper-plate engraving, on a large sheet, was published in 1663 ; soon after the author was first sent to prison, the profits pro- bably assisted in maintaining his family. It is now engraved from an original impression in 1091, at which time the words, " Author of The Pilgrim's Progress," and the publishers' names, were added. It has never been re-published in any edition of Bunyan's Whole Works, until the present complete series. It commences with a symbol of the Trinity ; on the one side is the line of grace, from election, by every step of the ascent to eternal glory ; and, on the other, in a darker shade, the road from reprobation to eternal ruin. The whole is interspersed with poetry. THE BARREN FIG-TREE ; or, The Doom and the Downfall of the Fruitless Professor : showing that the day of grace may be passed with him long before his life is ended — the signs also by which such miserable mortals may be known. A treatise founded upon Luke xiii. 6-9 560 Advertisement by the Editor 560 To the Reader 561 Introductory Remarks on the parable 561 Two things to be taken notice of and to be inquired into : — First, The metaphors made use of : A certain man ; a vineyard ; a fig-tree, barren, or fruitless ; a dresser ; three years ; digging and dunging, &c 562 Second, The doctrine or mysteries couched under such metaphors : — 1. By the man in the parable is meant God the Father 562 2. By the vineyard, his church 563 3. By the fig-tree, a professor 563 4. By the dresser, the Lord Jesus Christ 570 5. By the fig-tree's barrenness, the professor's fruitless- ness 570 6. By the three years, the patience of God that for a time he extendeth to barren professors 570 7. The calling to the dresser to cut it down, is to show the outcries of justice against fruitless professoi-s 571 8. The dresser's interceding shows how the Lord Jesus steps in to stop or defer the execution of the sentence on the barren fig-tree 574 9. The dresser's interceding shows how unwilling he is that the barren fig-tree should perish 574 10. His digging about and dunging it shows his willing- ness to apply gospel help to the barren professor 574 11. The supposition that the barren fig-tree may yet continue fruitless, shows that after all is done there are some professors will abide barren 576 12. The determination at last, to cut it down, is a certain prediction of such professor's unavoidable destruction 576 Proposition First. The day of grace ends with some men before God taketh them out of the world; Cain, Ishmael, and Esau, instances of this ' r»77 Signs of being past grace ,. 579 Proposition Second. The death, or cutting down of such men will be dreadful 584 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. Advertisement by ilie Editor. — The Life and Death of Mr. Badman supposed by some to have been intended as a third part of The Pilgrim's Progress; being the downward road of a sinner to eternal misery; his setting out ; miserable career ; wretched in the grati- fication of the basest passions, and awfully impeni- tent in death 586 Five curious and interesting illustrations of the form and manner in which the Life of Badman was first published, being facsimiles of the engravings that accompanied the first edition 588 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. TJie Author to tlv Read, r 590 Chap. 1. Badman's death and its evil consequences ">Ho This loads to the discourse of his life. Chap. II. Badman's wicked behaviour in childhood ; original sin is the root of actual transgression; Bad- man addicted to lying from a child : a lie knowingly told demonstrates a desperately hard heart; the liar's portion : an example for liars; a spirit of lying accompanied with other sins; Badman given to pit fer, and would rob his father ; more knit to his com- panions than either father or mother, and would rejoice to think of their death ; counted thieving no great matter ; the story of Old Tod ; Badman could not abide the Lord's day ; given to swearing and cursing ; examples of God's anger against them that swear ; a grievous thins; to bring up children wickedly 596 Cir.\r. III. Badman put to be an apprentice to a pious master; had all advantages to be good, but continued Badman still ; all good things abominable to him ; how he used to behave at sermons ; the desperate words of II. S.; Badman's acquaintances; he becomes a frequenter of taverns ; his master's purse pays for his drunkenness ; a caution for masters ; Badman becomes addicted to uncleanness ; what evils attend this sin ; Badman and his master abhor one another ; Badman runs away from him 605 Chap. IV. Badman gets a new master as bad as him- self; a sign and demonstration of God's anger against Badman ; masters should beware what servants they entertain ; Badman and his master cannot agree, and why ; could bear the last master's reproof better than he could the first ; by what means he came to be completed in wickedness ; out of his time, and goes home to his father , 611 CnAP. V. Badman in business ; the tricks of a wicked tradesman ; sets up for himself, and is almost as soon set down again ; the reason of his running out ; new companions ; bad temper ; his behaviour under his decays Chap. VI. Badman's hypocritical courtship and mar- riage to a pious rich young lady ; neglect of counsel about marriage dangerous ; his wicked and ungodly carriage ; a great alteration quickly happens to Bad- man's wife ; his creditors come upon him ; she reaps the fruit of her unadvisedness ; he drives good com- pany from his wile Chap. VII. Badman throws otf the mask, and cruelly treats his wife ; seeks to force her from her religion ; her repentance and complaint ; the evil of being unequally yoked together ; a caution to young maidens ; rules for those that are to marry ; Bad- man's children by this good woman ; advantages of the children of godly parents ; disadvantages of those of ungodly parents ; contest between Badman and his wife ; his new discourse ; having paid his debts with his rich wife's money, he sets up again, and runs a great way into the debt of many ; there are abundance like Mr. Badman 620 Chap. VIII. Badman a bankrupt, and gets by it. "hat- fuls of money ;" how he managed things in order to his breaking ; his sugar words to his creditors, who at last agree to what he propounds ; no plea for his dishonesty ; the heinousness of this sin ; fair warn- ing ; good advice ; honest dealing with creditors ; fraudulent bankruptcy of a professor a heavy blot upon religion ; such ought to be disowned 628 Chap. IX. I5adman's fraudulent dealings to get money ; uses deceitful weights, scales, and measures ; the sinfulness of such practices ; how Badman did cheat and hide his cheating ; some plead custom to cheat ; they get nothing that cozen and cheat ; more of Bad- man's bad tricks ; of extortion 633 Chap. X. The simple Christian's views of extortion ; who are extortioners ; good conscience must be used in selling ; we must not make prey of our neighbour's ignorance, necessity, or fondness of our commodity ; 010 61S we must use good conscience in buying; charity must be used in our dealings ; we should have an eye to the glory of God in all our transactions ; Badman used to laugb at those that told him of his faults 687 Chap. XI. Instructions for righteous dealing ; bow to live in the practice of this ; wo ought to beware of our own and our neighbour's hurt ; a judgment of God 610 Chap. XII. Badman's prole, atheism, infidelity, and envy ; of pride in general ; it sticks close to nature ; two sorts of pride ; signs of a proud man ; professors guilty of the sin of pride ; a stumbling-block to the world ; why it is in such request ; evil effects of pride ; a general character of Badman, and brief relation of his ways ; his judgment of the Scriptures ; an angry, envious man ; whence envy flows ; some of the births of envy ; a rare thing 612 Chap. XIII. Badman in some trouble of mind ; he gets drunk and breaks his leg ; it has no good effect upon him ; how many sins accompany drunkenness ; an open stroke ; God's judgments upon drunkards ; Clark's Looking-Glass for Sinners ; Badman falls sick. 613 Chap. XIV. His pretended repentings and promises of reform when death stares him in the face ; his con- science wounded, and he cries out in his sickness ; his atheism will not help him now ; a dreadful example of God's anger ; what Badman did more when he was sick ; great alteration in him ; the town-talk of his change; his wife comforted; he recovers, and returns to his old course 619 Chap. XV. Death leaves Badman for a season, and he returns to his sins like a sow that has been washed to her wallowing in the mire ; ignorant physicians kill souls while they cure bodies ; the true symptoms of conversion wanting in all Badman's sense of sin, and desires of mercy ; of sick-bed repentance, and that it is to be suspected ; a sign of the desperate- ness of man's heart 651 Chap. XVI. Badman's wife's heart is broken ; her Christian speech, and talk to her friends and her husband ; he diverts her discourse ; her speech to her children that were rude ; to her darling child who followed her ways ; her death ; one of her children converted by her dying words 652 Chap. XVII. Badman's base language ; he is tricked into a second marriage by a woman as bad as him- self; what she was, and how they lived ; he is pun- ished in his second wife for his bad carriages towards his first ; he is not at all the better ; none did pity him for his sorrow, but looked upon it as a just reward 651 Cuap. XVIII. Badman, and this Ids last wife, part as poor as howlets ; his sickness and diseases, of which he died ; his name stinks when he is dead ; that he dies impenitent is proved ; how he carried it to good men when they came to visit him in his last illness ; how he was when near his end ; the opinion of the ignor- ant about his manner of dying 655 Chap. XIX. Future happiness not to be hoped from a quiet hardened death; how we must judge whether men die well or no ; when we may judge of a man's eternal state by the manner of his death; account of two of Badman's brethren ; the story of John Cox ; of dying in despair ; further discourse of Badman's death; he that, after a sinful life dies quietly, goes to hell, proved ; sick-bed repentance seldom good for anything; peace in a sinful state a sign of dam- nation 660 Chap. XX. Without godly repentance the wicked man's hope and life die together; a frivolous opinion ; when a wicked man dies in his sins quietly, it is a judg- ment of God upon the man himself, and also upon his wicked companions that beholdeth him so to die; the quiet death of a wicked man enough to puzzle the wisest man ; David himself was put to a stand by this; enough to stagger a whole world; the godly CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. have a sanctuary to go to, the Word of God, by which the reasons of many of God's judgments are made known; conclusion of Badman's life and death 663 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL: or, The Groans of a Damned Soul. An exposition of the parable of the rich man and the beggar; wherein is discovered the lamentable state of" the damned ; their cries, their desires in their distresses, with the determina- tion of God upon them; a good warning word to sinners, both old and young, to take into considera- tion betimes, and to seek, by faith in Jesus Christ, to avoid, lest they come into the same place of tor- ment ; also, a brief discourse touching the profitable- ness of the Scriptures for our own instruction, in the way of righteousness, according to the tendency of the said parable 666 Advertisement by the Editor 666 The preface by "the Rev. John Gilford, Pastor of the Church of Christ at Bedford, of which John Bunyan was a member — this, after a long commendation of the work, contains a most interesting account of the author, his mean condition, and employment ; the sore shooting of the archers at him for his earnestness and zeal in his Master's work ; his magnifying and exalting the Scriptures, and an exhortation to receive with meekness his instructions 0?2 Bunyan's preface; how dangerous to be walking to the place of anguish and darkness, with the back to heaven and the face to hell ; hark, hear the bitter cries of those newly gone before ; stop before it be too late 673 The commentary on Luke xvi. iy-ol ; the beggar holdeth forth the godly, and the rich man the un- godly ; judging from outward appearances the rich man was best off 675 Ver. 20, 21. Saints, poor and contemned, content with anything 676 Ver. 22. Death, burial, and ascension of the beggar; the godly in death attended by glorious spirits 678 Ver. 23. The rich man in torments sees the happiness of Lazarus 681 Ver. 24. The too late repentance of Dives ; his cry, Send Lazarus with a drop of water, for I am tormented in this flame ; nine reasons for this cry 685 Ver. 25. The cry of the wicked in hell availeth nothing; the bitter recollection of a neglected salvation ; a scalding hot remembrance of their sins 689 Ver. 26. The great and impassable gulf between heaven and hell 693 Ver. 27, 28. The prayer of Misery, Send a messenger to my relatives ; poor scrubbed, beggarly Lazarus, the scabbed creep-hedge, as I once thought him. send him to my sumptuous, gay house; poor not to be despised if they cannot speak Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, like Pontius Pilate ; reasons why this prayer was uttered "... 695 The Use axd Application.— Shall 1 lose a long heaven for a short pleasure ; consider the woes of those that die out of Christ 701 Ver. 29-31. They that will uot near Moses and the Prophet! would not listen to a messenger from heaven # 7,17 Hear the gospel tor counsel, instruction, forewarning, comfort ; but to them that fall short, grief 714 PJTfl -'>'" Is or reasons why the Bible is undervalued. 715 Five uses by way of self-examination 721 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL; or, Serious Medita- PAS" tions upon the Four Last Things — Death, judgment, heaven, and hell. A Poem. Advertisement by the Editor 725 An Introduction to the ensuinq discourse 726 Of death ' 726 Of judgment 728 Of heaven 730 Of hell, and the state of those who perish 733 EBAL AND GERIZIM ; or, The Blessing and the Curse : being a short exhortation to sinnei-s by the mercy and severity of God. A Poem 737 The necessity of a new heart ; the spirit of prayer 740 Of godly fear ; of uprightness and sincerity: how graces are to be obtained ; of imputed righteousness 741 Of holiness of life ; the operation of faith ; of love to God 742 Love inducing Christian conduct from Mount Ebal 743 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS ; or, Temporal Things Spiritualized. In subsequent editions this title page was altered to DIVINE EMBLEMS ; or, Temporal Things Spiritualized, fitted for the use of Boys and Girls. . 746 Advertisement by the Editor 746 The Author to the Courteous Reader. A Poetical Preface 747 In this appears his love to children : — "I think some may Call me a baliy, 'cause 1 with them play." These Emblems or Meditations are upon the following subjects : — 1. Upon the barren fig-tree 748 n . Upon the lark and the fowler ; 111. Upon the vine ; iv. Upon an egg 749 v. Of fowls flying ; vi. Upon the Lord's Prayer ; vn. Peep of day ; vm. The flint in the water; ix. Upon the fish in the water 750 x. Upon the swallow ; xi. The bee ; xn. A lowering morning; xm. Overmuch niceness ; xiv. Upon a candle 751 xv. Upon the sacraments; xvi. Sun's reflection on the clouds ; xvu. Upon apparel ; xvni. The sinner and the spider 752 xix. Upon the dawn of day , 754 xx. On the mole in the ground ; xxi. Of the cuckoo ; xxir. The boy and butterfly : xxiu. The fly at the candle 755 xxiv. The rising sun ; xxv. On promise of Iruitlulness ; xxvi. Upon the thief; xxvu. The child and the bird in the bush 756 xxvm. Of Moses and his wife ; xxix. Of the rose bush ; xxx. Of the sun's going down 757 xxxi. Upon the frog; xxxu. The whipping-top; xxxm. Upon the pismire; xxxiv. The beggar; xxxv. The horse and his rider 753 xxxvi. On a pound of canities ; xxxvu. A penny loaf; xxxvtii. The boy and watch-maker; xxxix. On a looking-glass 759 xl. On the love 01 Christ, ; xli. On a hen cackling; xm. Upon an hour-glass; xliii. On a snail; xliv. On the spouse of Christ 760 xlv. On a skilful player ; xlvi. On man by nature ; XL VII. Upon a disobedient child 761 xlviii. On a sheet of white paper; xux. Upon lire... 702 S 00 to § n P5 £ 2 •■:.' r •--■■ - , LIST OF ENGRAVINGS DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER VOLUME I. Portrait — Drawn by Macleay, after Sadler, . The Cnrmcn and Village Green — Elstow, Buxyan's Cottage, Elstow, and Market-House, Elstow St. Peter's First Sermon at Jerusalem, The Return of the Prodigal, Presentation in the Temple, r Descent from the Cross, ...... Thankfulness, Create a Clean Heart in Me, 0 God, .... Prison on Bedford Bridge — Two Views, to face Vignette Vignette to face to face " Prison Meditations,' TAOK Title. Title. 1 67 240 391 497 641 685 03* VOLUME II. Eunyan's Tomb — Bunhill Fields Burying Ground, London, . . . to face Vignette Title. Bedford— from London Road, Vignette Title. The Entombment, to face 129 The Pharisee and Publican, 215 Jonah Cast into the Sea, , . . 399 VOLUME III. Jons Bunyan — Portrait after White to face Vignette Title. Christian Armed, Vignette Title. The Pilgrim's Progress, 4to, to face 1 Eighteen fac-similes of the Engravings which appeared in early editions of the Pilgrim's Progress, page 79-84 Tail-piece — Bedford Jail and Gatehouse 88 Christian Addressing his Wife and Children7, to face 89 Christian Saluted by the Three Shining Ones, 102 Christian's Combat wrrn Apollyon H3 ii LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. PAGE Christian, Hopeful, and the Shepherds, to face 144 Christian, Hopeful, and Atheist, . 152 Ministering Spirits Meet Christian and Hopeful, 164 Portrait of Bunyan on Wood— Frontispiece to Pilgrim (Part Second), .... 171 Christiana and nER Family Sally out on Pilgrimage, 177 The Pilgrims committed to the Care of Greatheart, ...... 190 Great-heart attacking Giant Grim, .......... 196 The Pilgrims entertained at the House of Gaius, 219 Emmanuel, 245 Map snowiNG the Order and Causes of Salvation and Damnation, between page 374 and 375 Fac-similes of the five engravings that accompanied the first edition of the Life of Badman, page 588, 589 Divine Emblems — "Fish in the Water," &c, 749 Divine Emblems — " Horse and his Rider," Philip's Life of Bunyan, p. 4. 1 u Vol. iii., p. 597. l ' Vol- "•» V- 56i- 1 - Grace Abounding, No. 27. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. be a blessing to the Church in all ages — for his support during his passage through the black river which has no bridge — to shine all bright and glorious, as a star in the firmament of heaven. ' Wonders of grace to God belong.' During the period of his open profligacy, his conscience was ill at ease ; at times the clanking of Satan's slavish chains in which he was hurrying to destruction, distracted him. The stern reality of a future state clouded and embittered many of those moments employed in gratifying his baser passions. The face of the eventful times in which he lived was rapidly changing ; the trammels were loosened, which, with atrocious penalties, had fet- tered all free inquiry into religious truth. Puritan- ism began to walk upright ; and as the restraints imposed upon Divine truths were taken off, in the same proportion restraints were imposed upon im- piety, profaneness, and debauchery. A ringleader in all wickedness would not long continue without reproof, either personally, or as seen in the holy conduct of others. Bunyan very properly attri- buted to a gracious God, those checks of conscience which he so strongly felt eveu while he was ap- parently dead in trespasses and sins. ' The Lord, even in my childhood, did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions.'1 'I often wished that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil to torment others.' A common childish but demoniac idea. His mind was as ' the troubled sea, when it can- not rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.' ' A while after, these terrible dreams did leave me ; and with more greediness, according to the strength of nature, I did let loose the reins of my lusts, and delighted in all transgression against the law of God.' * I was the very ringleader of all the youth that kept me company, into all manner of vice and ungodliness.'" Dr. Southey and others have attempted to whiten this blackamore, but the veil that they throw over him is so transparent that it cannot deceive those who are in the least degree spiritu- ally enlightened. He alleges that Bunyan, in his mad career of vice and folly, ' was never so given over to a reprobate mind,''3 as to be wholly free from compunctions of conscience. This is the case with every depraved character ; but he goes further, when he asserts that * Bunyan's heart never was hardened.'4 This is directly opposed to his description of himself : — ' I found within me a great desire to take my fill of sin, still studying what sin was yet to be committed ; and I made as much haste as I could to fill my belly with its delicates, lest I should die before I had my desire.' 1 Grace Abounding, No. 5. 3 Life, p. vii. 2 Ibid,, No. 8. 4 Ibid. p. viii. He thus solemnly adds, ' In these things, I protest before God, I lie not, neither do I feign this sort of speech ; these were really, strongly, and with all my heart, my desires ; the good Lord, whose mercy is unsearchable, forgive me my transgressions.' The whole of his career, from childhood to man- hood, was, ' According to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of dis- obedience.' Ep. ii. 2. These reminiscences are alluded to in the pro- logue of the Holy War : — ' When Mansoul trampled upon tilings Divine, And wallowed in filth as doth a swine, Then I was there, and did rejoice to sec Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.' The Laureate had read this, and yet considers it the language of a heart that ' never was hard- ened.' He says that 'the wickedness of the tinker has been greatly overcharged, and it is taking the language of self-accusation too literally to pronounce of John Bunyan, that he was at any time depraved. The worst of what he was in his worst days is to be expressed in a single word, the full meaning of which no circumlocution can convey ; and which, though it may hardly be deemed presentable in serious composition, I shall use, as Bunyan himself (no mealy-mouthed writer) would have used it, had it in his days borne the same acceptation in which it is now universally understood ; — in that word then, he had been a blackguard. The very head and front of his offending Hath this extent — no more.' ° The meaning of the epithet is admirably explained ; but what could Dr. Southey imagine possible to render such a character more vile in the sight of God, or a greater pest to society? Is there any vicious propensity, the gratification of which is not included in that character ? Bunyan's estimate of his immorality and profaneness prior to his conver- sion, was not made by comparing himself with the infinitely Holy One, but he measured his conduct by that of his more moral neighbours. In his Jeru- salem Sinner Saved, he pleads with great sinners, the outwardly and violently profane and vicious, that if he had received mercy, and had become regenerated, they surely ought not to despair, but to seek earnestly for the same grace. He thus describes himself: — ' I speak by experience; I was one of those great sin-breeders ; I infected all the youth of the town where I was born ; the neigh- bours counted me so, my practice proved me so : wherefore, Christ Jesus took me first ; and, taking me first, the contagion was much allayed all 5 Life, pp. xli., xlii. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUN VAX. tlic town over. When God made me sigh, they would hearken, and inquiringly say, What's the matter with John ? When I went out to seek the bread of life, somo of them would follow, and the rest be put into a muse at home. Some of them, perceiving that God had mercy upon me, came crying to him for mercy too.'1 Can any one, in the face of such language, doubt that ho was most eminently • a brand snatched from the fire ;' a pitchy burning brand, known and seen as such by all who witnessed his conduct ? He pointedly exemplified the character set forth by James, ' the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, set on fire of hell,' Ja. m. c This was as publicly known before his conversion, as the effects of the wondrous change were openly seen in his Christian career afterwards. He who, when convinced of sin, strained his eyes to see the distant shining- light over the wicket-gate, after he had gazed upon ' The wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died,' became a luminous beacon, to attract the vilest cha- racters to seek newness of life; and if there be hope for them, no one ought to despair. Far be it from us to cloud this light, or to tarnish so conspicuous an example. Like a Magdalene or a thief on the cross, his case may be exhibited to encourage hope in every returning prodigal. Dur- ing this period of his childhood, while striving to harden his heart against God, many were the glimmerings of light which from time to time directed his unwilling eyes to a dread eternity. In the still hours of the night ' in a dream God opened ' his ears 2 — the dreadful vision was that ' devils and wicked spirits laboured to draw me away with them.' These thoughts must have left a deep and alarming impression upon his mind; for he adds, 'of which I could never be rid.'3 The author of his life, published in 16ii2, who was one of his personal friends, gives the following account of Bunyan's profligacy, and his checks of conscience : — ' He himself hath often, since his conversion, confessed with horror, that when he was but a child or stripling, he had but few equals for lying, swearing, and blaspheming God's holy name — living "without God in the world ; the thoughts of which, when he, by the light of Divine grace, came to understand his dangerous condi- tion, drew many showers of tears from his sor- rowful eyes, and sighs from his groaning heart. The first thing that sensibly touched him in this his unregenerate state, were fearful dreams, and visions of the night, which often made him cry out in his sleep, and alarm the house, as if some- 1 Vol. i., p. 79. 2 Job, xxxiii. 15. 3 Grace Abounding, No. 5, vol. i., p. G. body was about to murder him; and being waked, he would start, and stare about him with such a wildness, as if some real apparition had yet re- mained; and generally those dreams were about evil spirits, in monstrous shapes and forms, that presented themselves to him in threatening pos- tures, as if they would have taken him away, or torn him in pieces. At some times they seemed to belch flame, at other times a continuous smoke, with horrible noises and roaring. Once he dreamed he saw the face of the heavens, as it were, all on fire; the firmament crackling and shivering with the noise of mighty thunders, and an archangel flew in the midst of heaven, sounding a trumpet, and a glorious throne was seated in the east, whereon sat one in brightness, like the morning star, upon which he, thinking it was the end of the world, fell upon his knees, and, with uplifted hands towards heaven, cried, 0 Lord God, have mercy upon me! What shall I do, the day of judgment is come, and I am not prepared ! When imme- diately he heard a voice behind him, exceeding loud, saying, Repent. At another time he dreamed that he was in a pleasant place, jovial and riot- ing, banqueting aud feasting his senses, when a mighty earthquake suddenly rent the earth, and made a wide gap, out of -which came bloody flames, and the figures of men tossed up in globes of fire, and falling down again with horrible cries, shrieks, and execrations, whilst some devils that were mingled with them, laughed aloud at their torments ; and whilst he stood trembling at this sight, he thought the earth sunk under him, and a circle of flame enclosed him ; but when he fancied he was just at the point to perish, one in white shining raiment descended, and plucked him out of that dreadful place ; whilst the devils cried after him, to leave him with them, to take the just punishment his sins had deserved, yet he escaped the danger, and leaped for joy when he awoke and found it was a dream.' Such dreams as these fitted him in after life to be the glorious dreamer of the Pilgrim's Progress, in which a dream is told which doubtless embodies some of those which terrified him in the night visions of his youth. In the Interpreter's house he is 'led into a chamber where there was one rising out of bed, and as he put on his raiment he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This night, as I was in my sleep I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew exceeding black ; also it thundered aud lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony. So I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an uuusual rate, upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven — they were all in flaming fire ; also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, " Arise, ye dead, and come VI MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. to judgment ;" and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward ; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains. Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and prisoners at the bar. I heard it also proclaimed, " Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake ;" and with that the bottomless pit opened just whereabout I stood, out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said, " Gather my wheat into the garner ;" and with that I saw many catched up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind. I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me ; my sins also came into my mind, and my conscieuce did accuse me on every side. Upon that I awaked from my sleep.' No laboured composition could have produced such a dream as this. It flows iu such dream-like order as would lead us to infer, that the author who narrates it had, when a boj, heard the twenty- fifth chapter of Matthew read at church, and the solemn impression following him at night assisted in producing a dream which stands, and perhaps will ever stand, unrivalled. Awful as must have been these impressions upon his imagination, they were soon thrown off, and the mad youth rushed on in his desperate career of vice and folly. Is he then left to fill up the measure of his iniquities ? No, the Lord has a great work for him to do. His hand is not short- ened that he cannot save. Bunyan has to be pre- pared for his work; and if terrors will not stop him, manifested mercies in judgments are to be tried. ' God did not utterly leave me, but followed me still, not now with convictions, but judgments ; yet such as were mixed with mercy. For once I fell into a creek of the sea, and hardly escaped drown- ing. Another time I fell out of a boat into Bed- ford river, but mercy yet preserved me alive. Besides, another time, being in the field with one of my companions, it chanced that an adder passed over the highway, so I, having a stick in my hand, struck her over the back; and having stunned her, I forced open her mouth with my stick, and plucked her sting out with my fingers; by which act, had not God been merciful unto me, I might by my desperateness have brought myself to my end. ' This also have I taken notice of, with thanks- giving. When I was a soldier, I, with others, were drawn out to go to such a place to besiege it ; but when I was just ready to go, one of the com- pany desired to go iu my room, to which, when I had consented, he took my place ; and coming to the siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot into the head with a musket bullet, and died.' l 1 Life appended to the fust and second editions of the forged third part of tilgrim's Progress. In addition to these mercies recorded by his own pen, one of his friends asserts that he acknow- ledged his deep obligations to Divine mercy for being saved when he fell into an exceeding deep pit, as he was travelling in the dark ; for having been preserved iu sickness; and also for providen- tial goodness that such a sinner was sustained with food and raiment, even to his own admiration. Bunyan adds, 'Here were judgments and mercy, but neither of them did awaken my soul to righ- teousness ; wherefore I sioned still, and grew more and more rebellious against God, and careless of mine own salvation.' 2 That such a scape-grace should enter the army can occasion no surprise. His robust, hardy frame, used to exposure in all weathers — his daring courage, as displayed in his perilous dealing with the adder, bordering upon fool-hardiness — his mental depravity and immoral habits, fitted him for all the military glory of rapine and desolation. In his Grace Abounding he expressly states that this took place before his marriage, while his earliest biographer places this event some years after his marriage, and even argues upon it, as a reason why he became a soldier, that « when the unnatural civil war came on, finding little or nothing to do to support himself and small family, he, as many thousands did, betook himself to arms.'3 The same account states that, ' in June, 1645, being at the siege of Leicester, he was called out to be one who was to make a violent attack upon the town, vigorously defended by the King's forces against the Parliamentarians, but appearing to the officer who was to command them to be somewhat awkward in handling his arms, another voluntarily, and as it were thrust himself into his place, who, having the same post that was designed Mr. Bunyan, met his fate by a carbine - shot from the wall ; but this little or nothing startled our too secure sinner at that time; for being now in an army where wickedness abounded, he was the more hardened.' Thus we find Bunyan engaged in military affairs. There can be no doubt but that he was a soldier prior to his marriage, and that he was - Grace Abounding, Nos. 12-14, vol. i., p. 7. How do these hair-breadth escapes illustrate the unerring providence of God, and the short-sightedness of even pious Christians. It is easy to imagine the exclamations of a reflecting character when hearing of the marvellous escapes of this wicked youth. 'Dark providences! the good and benevolent are snatched away; but such a plague as this has his life preserved to pester us still. Short-sighted mortal, " shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?" ' No life in the British empire was so precious in the sight and gracious purposes of God, as that of the poor depraved lad ; which was thus preserved by the special care of Divine providence. 3 J.ife appended to part third of Pilgrim's Progress, 109?. This is omitted from the third edition (1700), and all the sub- sequent ones. .MEMOIR OF JOHN BUXYAX. present at the siege of Leicester; but it is some- what strange (if true) that lie should have preferred the Parliamentary to the Royal army. Although this is a question that cannot be positively decided without further evidence than has yet been dis- covered, there arc strong reasons for thinking that so loyal a man joined the Royal army, and not that of the Republicans. The army into which Bunyan entered is de- scribed as being 'where wickedness abounded,' but, according to Hume, in this year the Republican troops were generally pious men. Bunyan's loyalty was so remarkable as to ap- pear to he natural to him ; for even after he had so severely suffered from the abuse of kingly power, in interfering with the Divine prerogative of ap- pointing modes of worship, he, who feared the face of no man — who never wrote a line to curry favour with any man or class of men — thus ex- presses bis loyal feelings — ' I do confess myself one of the old-fashioned professors, that covet to fear God, and honour the king. I also am for blessing of them that curse me, for doing good to them that hate me, and for praying for them that desnitefully use me and persecute me ; and have had more peace in the practice of these things than all the world are aware of.' • Pray for the long life of the king.' * Pray that God would discover all plots and conspiracies against his per- son and government.'1 * Will you rebel against the king ? is a word that shakes the -world.'2 ' Pray for all that are in authority ; reproach not the governor, he is set over thee ; all his ways are God's, either for thy help or the trial of thy graces — this is duty, will render thee lovely to thy friends, terrible to thine enemies, serviceable as a Christian.'3 'Let kings have that fear, honour, reverence, worship that is due to their place, their office and dignity.' ' I speak it to show my loyalty to the king, and my love to my fellow-sub- jects.'1 With such proofs of his peaceful submis- sion to government in all things that touched not the prerogatives of God ; it would have been marvellous indeed if he had taken up arms against his king. His infatuated delight in swearing, and roisterous habits, were ill suited to the religious restraints of the Parliament- arians, while they would render him a high prize to Rupert's dragoons. Add to tln3, the remark- able fact, that Leicester was besieged and stormed with terrible slaughter by the king, but not by the army of the Parliament. The taking of Leicester by the king in person was attended with great cruelties. The abbey was burnt by the cavaliers. Rupert's black flag was hoisted 1 Vol. ii, p. 74. - Vol. i., p. 732. 3 Vol. ii., p. JS8. 4 Vol. ii., p. 7UCJ; ii., p. 45; ii., 601. on the gate which had been treacherously given u;>. Every Scotchman found in the town was mur- dered. Tho mace and town seals were carried off as plunder ; and, if the account given by Thoresby in his History of Leicester is correct, the scene of carnage was quite enough to sicken Bunyan of a military life. He knew the mode in which plun- der taken from the bodies of the slain was divided by the conquerors : — ' Or as the soldiers give unto Ea< h man the share and lot, "Which they hy dint of sword have won, From their most daring foe; While he lies by as still as sto , Xot knowing what they do.' B 1 The king's forces having made their batter!:?, stormed Leicester; those within made stout re- sistance, but some of them betrayed one of the gates ; the women of the town laboured iu making up the breaches, and in great danger. The king's forces having entered the town, had a hot encoun- ter in the market-place ; and many of them were slain by shot out of the windows, that they gave no quarter, but hanged some of the committee, and cut others to pieces. Some letters say that tho kennels ran down with blood; Colonel Gray the governor, and Captain Hacker, were wounded and taken prisoners, and very many of the garri- son were put to the sword, and the town miserably plundered. The king's forces killed divers who prayed quarter, and put divers women to the sword/' and other women and children they turned naked into the streets, and many they ravished. They hanged Mr. Reynor and Mr. Sawyer in cold blood; and at Wighton they smothered Mrs. Barlow es, a minister's wife, and her children.'7 Lord Clarendon admits the rapine and pi and that the king regretted that some of his friends suffered with the rest.8 Humphrey Brown deposed that he was present when the garrison, having sur- rendered upon a promise of quarter, he saw the king's soldiers strip and wound the prisoners, and heard the king say — 'cut them more, for they arc mine enemies.' A national collection was made for the sufferers, by an ordinance bearing date the 2Sth October, 1645, which states that — ' Whereas it is very well known what miseries befel the inhabi- tants of the town and county of Leicester, when the king's army took Leicester, by plundering the said inhabitants, not only of their wares in their shops, but also all their household goods, and their apparel from their backs, both of men, women, and children, not sparing, in that kind, infants in their 6 Vol. iii.,p. 727; v. 7, 8. 6 The women were remarkably active in defending tl.c town. 7 Moresby s Leicester, tto, p. 12S. 8 Ilist. of Rebellion, edition 171.3, vol. ii., \ MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. cradles ; and, by violent courses and tortures, com- pelled them to discover whatsoever they had con- cealed or hid, and after all they imprisoned their persons, to the undoing of the tradesmen, and the ruin of many of the country. ' Can we wonder that ' the king was abused as a barbarian and a murderer, for having put num- bers to death in cold blood after the garrison had surrendered ; and for hanging the Parliament's committee, and some Scots found in that town ?' The cruelties practised in the king's presence were signally punished. He lost 709 men on that oc- casion, and it infused new vigour into the Parlia- ment's army. The battle of Naseby was fought a few days after ; the numbers of the contending forces were nearly equal ; the royal troops were veterans, commanded by experienced officers ; but the God of armies avenged the innocent blood shed in Leicester, and the royal army was cut to pieces; carriages, cannon, the king's cabinet, full of trea- sonable correspondence, were taken, and from that day he made feeble fight, and soon lost his crown and his life. The conquerors marched to Leicester, which surrendered by capitulation. Heath, in his Chronicle, asserts that ' no life was lost at the re- taking of Leicester.' Many of Bunyan's sayings and proverbs are strongly tinged with the spirit of Rupert's dragoons — ' as we say, blood up to the cars.'1 ' What can be the meaning of this (trum- peters), they neither sound boot and saddle, nor horse and away, nor a charge ? '2 In his allegories when he alludes to fighting, it is with the sword and not with the musket ;3 ' rub up man, put on thy harness.'4 'The father's sword in the hand of the sucking child is not able to conquer a foe.'5 Considering his singular loyalty, which, during the French Revolution, was exhibited as a pattern to Dissenters by an eminent Baptist minister;6 con- sidering also his profligate character and military sayings, it is very probable that Bunyan was in the king's army in 1645, being about seventeen years of age. It was a finishing school to the hardened sinner, which enabled him, in his account of the Holy War, so well to describe every filthy lane and dirty street in the town of Mansoul. Whether Bunyan left tho army when Charles was routed at the battle of Naseby, or was dis- charged, is not known. He returned to his native town full of military ideas, which he used to ad- vantage in his Holy War. He was not reformed, but hardened in sin, and, although at times alarmed with convictions of the danger of his soul, yet in the end, the flesh pleading powerfully, it prevailed ; and he made a resolution to indulge 1 Vol. i., p. 661. 2 Vol. iii., p. 357. s Vol. iii., p. 113, 358. i Vol. i., p. 720. 6 Vol. i., p. 694. 0 The Political Sentiments of John Banyan, re-published by John Martin, 1798. himself in such carnal delights and pleasures as ho was accustomed to, or that fell in his way. ' His neglecting his business, and following gaming and sports, to put melancholy thoughts out of his mind, which he could not always do, had rendered him very poor and despicable.'7 In this forlorn and miserable state, he was induced, by the persuasion of friends, under the invisible guidance of God, to enter into the marriage state. Such a youth, then only twenty years of age, would naturally be expected to marry some young woman as hardened as him- self, but he made a very different choice. His earliest biographer says, with singular simplicity, ' his poverty, and irregular course of life, made it very difficult for him to get a wife suitable to his inclination ; and because none that were rich would yield to his allurements, he found himself constrained to marry one without any fortune, though very virtuous, loving, and conformably obedient and obliging, being born of good, honest, godly parents, who had instructed her, as well as they were able, in the ways of truth and saving knowledge.'3 The idea of his seeking a rich wife is sufficiently droll ; he must have been naturally a persuasive lover, to have gained so good a help- mate. They were not troubled with sending cards, cake, or gloves, nor with the ceremony of receiving the visits of their friends in state ; for he says, that ' This woman and I came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or spoon betwixt us both.'9 His wife had two books, Tlie Plain Mans Pathway to Heaven, and The Practice of Piety ; but what was of more importance than wealth or household stuff, she had that seed sown in her heart which no thief could steal.10 She enticed and persuaded him to read those books. To do this he by application 'again recovered his reading, which he had almost lost.' His wife became an unspeakable blessing to him. She presents a pattern to any woman, who, having neglected the apostolic injunction not to be un- equally yoked, finds herself under the dominion of a swearing dare devil. It affords a lovely proof of the insinuating benign favour of female influ- ence. This was the more surprising, as he says, 7 Life of Bunyan, 1692, p. 12. 8 Ibid., 1692, p. 13. 9 Vol. i., p. 7. 10 The Pathway to Heaven is the work of that pious puritan Dent, and is full of those striking illustrations which were admirably adapted to prepare Bunyan for writing his allegories. A copy with the name i\la Bunyann, written on the title page, has long been in the editor's library. We give a facsimile of the writing, as it has been supposed that of Bunyan. This is /*2& Cs&yryy.a^r>7t- very doubtful ; it appears more like a woman's hand ; but, if it is the name of Airs. Bunyan, then it indicates that his daughter Mary, baptized 20th July, 1650, was called after her. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. * the thoughts of religion were very previous to ine,' and when ' books that concerned Christian piety were read in my hearing, it was as it were a prison to me.' In spite of all obstacles, his rugged heart was softened by her tenderness and obedi- ence, he 'keeping on the old course,'1 she upon every proper season teaching him how her father's piety secured his own and his family's happiness. Here was no upbraiding, no snubbing, no curtain lectures; all was affectionate, amiable mildness. At first, he became occasionally alarmed for his soul's salvation; then with the thought of having sinned away the day of grace, he plunged again into sin with greediness ; anon a faint hope of mercy would fill him with fear and trembling. But this leads us to the wondrous narrative of his new birth. THE SECOND PERIOD. THE INTERNA! CONFLICT, OR BUNYAN's CONVICTIONS AND CONVERSION. All nature is progressive ; if an infant was sud- denly to arrive at manhood, how idiotic and dan- gerous he would be ! A long training is essential to fit the human being for the important duties of life ; and just so is it in the new birth to spiritual existence — first a babe, then the young man ; at length the full stature, and at last the experienced Christian. The narrative of Bunyan's progress in his con- version is, without exception, the most astonishing of any that has been published. It is well calcu- lated to excite the profoundest investigation of the Christian philosopher. Whence came those sudden suggestions, those gloomy fears, those heavenly rays of joy ? Much learning certainly did not make him mad. The Christian dares not attribute his intense feelings to a distempered brain. Whence came the invisible power that struck Paul from his horse ? Who was it that geared Job with dreams, and terrified him with visions ? What messenger of Satan buffeted Paul ? Who put ' a new song ' into the mouth of David ? We have no space in this short memoir to attempt the drawing a line between convictions of sin and the terrors of a distempered brain. Bunyan's opinions upon this subject are deeply interesting, and are fully developed in his Holy War. The capabilities of the soul to entertain vast armies of thoughts, strong and feeble, repre- sented as men, women, and children, are so great as almost to perplex the strongest understanding. All these multitudes of warriors are the innume- rable thoughts — the strife — in one soul. Upon such a subject an interesting volume might be 1 Lfe cfBunyan, 1G91, p. 13. written. But we must fix our attention upon the poor tinker who was the subject of this wondrous war. The tender and wise efforts of Mrs. Bunyan to reclaim her husband, were attended by the Divine blessing, and soon led to many resolutions, on his part, to curb his sinful propensities and to pro- mote an outward reformation ; his first effort was regularly to attend Divine worship. He says, ' I fell in very eagerly with the religion ot the times, to wit, to go to church twice a-day, and that too with the foremost ; and there should very devoutly both say and sing as others did, yet retaining my wicked life; but withal, I was so overrun with a spirit of superstition, that I adored, and that with great devotion, even all things, both the high-place, priest, clerk, vestment, service, and what else belonging to the Church ; counting all things holy that were therein contained, and especially, the priest and clerk most happy, and without doubt greatly blessed, because they were the servants, as I then thought,2 of God, and were principal in the holy temple, to do his work therein. ' This conceit grew so strong in little time upon my spirit, that had I but seen a priest, though never so sordid and debauched in his life,3 I should find my spirit fall under him, reverence him, and knit unto him; yea, I thought, for the love I did bear unto them, supposing they were the ministers of God, I could have lain down at their feet, and have been trampled upon by them ; their name, their garb, and work did so intoxicate and bewitch me.' All this took place at the time when The Booh of Common Prayer, having been said to occasion ' manifold inconveniency,' was, by an Act of Parliament, ' abolished,'4 and by a subsequent Act5 prohibited, under severe penalties, from being publicly used. The ' manifold inconveniences' to which the Act refers, arose from differences of opinion as to the propriety of the form which had been enforced, heightened by the enormous cruel- ties practised upon multitudes who refused to use it. Opposition to the English Liturgy was more combined in Scotland, by a covenant entered into, June 20, 1580, by the king, lords, nobles, and people, against Popery ; and upon Archbishop Laud's attempt, in 1637, to impose the service-book upon our northern neighbours, tumults and blood- shed ensued ; until, in 1643, a new and very solemn league and covenant was entered into, which, in 1645, extended its influence to England, being sub- scribed by thousands of our best citizens, with many of the nobility — 'wherein we all subscribe, and each with his own hands lifted up to the Most High God, doe swear;' that being the mode of taking an oath, instead of kissing the cover of a book, as is now practised. To the cruel and intemperate measures of Laud, and the zeal of Charles, for priestly domination over conscience, may be justly '-' This is a solemn consideration ; many profess to serve God while they are bond-slaves to sin; and many are servants in his family who are not sons, nor heirs, of heaven. Ulessed are those who arc both servants and sons. 3 Vol. i., p. 7, 8. * Jan. 3, 1644-5. * Aug. 23, 1015. I MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. attributed the wars which desolated the country, while the solemn league and covenant brought an overwhelming force to aid the Parliament in redressing the grievances of the kingdom. Dur- ing the Commonwealth there was substituted, in place of the Common Prayer, A Directory for the Publigve Worship of God, and the uniformity which was enjoined in it was like that of the Presbyte- rians and Dissenters of the present day. The people having assembled, and been exhorted to reverence and humility, joined the preacher in prayer. lie then read portions of Scripture, with or without an exposition, as he judged it neces- sary, but not so as to render the service tedious. After singing a psalm, the minister prayed, lead- ing the people to mourn under a sense of sin, and to hunger and, thirst after the grace of God, in Jesus Christ ; an outline or abstract is given of the subject of public prayer, and similar instruc- tions are given as to the sermon or pai'aphrase. Immediately after the sermon, prayer was again offered up, and after the outline that is given of this devotional exercise, it is noted, ' And because the prayer which Christ taught his dis- ciples, is not only a pattern of prayer, but itself a most comprehensive prayer, we recommend it also to be used in the prayers of the Church.' This beiug ended, a psalm was sung, and the minister dismissed the congregation with a solemn bless- ing.1 Some of the clergy continued the use of prayers, contained in the liturgy, reciting, instead of reading them — a course that was not objected to. This was the form of service which struck Bunyan with such awe and reverence, leaving a very solemn impression upon his mind, which the old form of common prayer had never produced. Bunyan was fond of athletic sports, bell-ringing, and dancing ; and in these he had indulged, so far as his worldly calling allowed. Charles I., whether to promote Popery — to divert his subjects from political grievances — or to punish the Puritans, had endeavoured to drown their serious thoughts in a vortex of dissipation, by re-publishing the Book of &porls> t0 be used on Sundays. That ' after Divine service our good people be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged from dancing, cither men or women ; archery, leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless recreations ; May games, Whitsun- ales, Morris dances, May poles, and other sports.' But this was not all, for every ' Puritan and Pre- cisian was to be constrained to conformity with these sports, or to leave their country.' The same severe penalty was enforced upon every clergyman who refused to read from his pulpit the Book of Sports, and to persuade the people thus to dese- crate the Lord's-day. • Many hundred godly 4toEdit., 1641. ministers were suspended from their ministry, sequestered, driven from their livings, excommu- nicated, prosecuted in the high commission court, and forced to leave the kingdom for not publishing this declaration. '2 A little gleam of heavenly light falls upon those dark and gloomy times, from the melancholy fact that nearly eight hundred conscien- tious clergymen were thus wickedly persecuted. This was one of the works of Laud, who out- bonnered Bonner himself in his dreadful career of cruelty, while making havoc of the church of Christ. Even transportation for refusing obedience to such diabolical laws was not the greatest penalty ; in some cases it was followed by the death of the offender. The punishments inflicted for nonconfor- mity were accompanied by the most refined and barbarous cruelties. Still many of the learned bowed their necks to this yoke with abject servility: thus, Robert Powell, speaking of the Boole of Sports, says, ' Needless is it to argue or dispute for that which authority hath commanded, and most insuf- ferable insolence to speak or rorite against it.'3 These Sunday sports, published by Charles I., inl633,had doubtless aided in fostering Bunyan's bad conduct in his youthful days. In 1644, when The Book of Common Prayer was abolished, an Act was passed for the better observance of the Lord's-day ; all persons were prohibited on that day to use any wrestlings, shooting, bowling, ringing of bells for O 7 O7 O7 OO pastime, masques, wakes, church-ales, dancing, game, sports or pastime whatever ;' and that ' the Book of Sports shall be seized, and publicly burnt.' During the civil war this Act does not appear to have been strictly enforced; for, four years after it was passed, we find Bunyan and his dissolute com- panions worshipping the priest, clerk, and vest- ments on the Sunday morning, and assembling for their Sabbath-breaking sports in the afternoon. It was upon one of these occasions that a most extraordinary impression was fixed upon the spirit of Bunyan. A remarkable scene took place, worthy the pencil of the most eminent artist. This event cannot be better described than in his own words: — ' One day, amongst all the sermons our parson made, his subject was, to treat of the Sabbath-day, and of the evil of breaking that, either with labour, sports, or otherwise ; now I was, notwithstanding my religion, one that took much delight in all manner of vice, and especially that was the day that I did solace myself therewith ; wherefore I fell in my conscience under his sermon, thinking and believing that he made that sermon on purpose to show me my evil doing. And at that time I felt what guilt was, though never before, that I ecu remember; but then I was, for the present, greatly loadeu therewith, and so went home, when the sermon was ended, with a great burthen upon my spirit. - Neale, 1822, vol. ii., p. 220. 0 Life of Alfred, comparing him to Charles I. Preface. Svo. 1634. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. ' This, for that instant, did benumb the sinews of my best delights, and did imbitter my former pleasures to me; but behold it lasted not, for before I had well dined, the trouble began to go off my mind, and my heart returned to its old course. But 0! how glad was I, that this trouble was gone from me, and that the tire was put out, that I might sin again without control! 'Wherefore, when I had satisfied nature with my food, I shook the sermon out of my mind, and to my old custom of sports and gaming I returned with great delight. ' But the same day, as I was ia the midst of a game at eat, and having struck it one blow from, the hole, just as I was about to strike it the second time, a voice did suddenly dart from heaven into my soul, whieh said, "Wilt thou leave thy ans and go to heaven, or luive thy sins and go to hell ?" At this I was put to an exceeding maze ; wherefore leaving my cat upon the ground, I looked up to heaven, and was as if I had, with the eyes of my understanding, seen the Lord Jesus looking down upon me, as being very hotly displeased with me, and as if iie did severely threaten mc with some grievous punishment for these and. other my ungodly practices. * I had no sooner tkns conceived in my mind, but, suddenly, this conclusion was fastened on my spirit, for the former hint did set my sins again before my face, that I had been a great and grevious sinner, and that it was now too late for me to look after heaven ; for Christ would not forgive me, nor par- don my trausgressions. Then I fell to musing upon this also ; and while I was thinking on it, and fearing lest it should be so, I felt my heart sink in despair, concluding it was too late ; and therefore I resolved in my mind I would go on in sin : for, thought I, if the case be thus, my state is surely miserable ; miserable if I leave my sins, and but miserable if I follow them ; I can but be damned, and if I must be so, I had as good be damned for many sins, as be damned for few. 'Thus I stood in the midst of my play, before all that then were present: but yet I told them nothing. But I say, I having made this conclusion, I returned desperately to my sport again ; and I well remember, that presently this kind of despair did so possess my soul, that I was persuaded I could never attain to other comfort than what I should get in sin ; for heaven was gone already; so that on that I must not think.'1 How difficult is it, when immorality has been encouraged by royal authority, to turn the tide or to stem the torrent. For at least four years, an Act of Parliament had prohibited these Sunday sports. Still the supineness of the justices, and the connivance of the clergy, allowed the rabble youth to congregate on the Green at Elstow, sum- moned by the church bells to celebrate their sports and pastimes, as they had been in the habit of doing on the Lord's-day.- This solemn warning, received in the midst of his sport, was one of a series of convictions, by which the hardened sinner was to be fitted to receive the messages of mercy and love. In the 1 Vol. i„ p. S, 9. • The game of cat, tipeat, or " sly," so called by Wilson, in his life of Bunyan,* is an ancient game well known in many parts of the kingdom. A number of holes are made in the ground, at equal distances, in a circular direction ; a player is stationed at each hole ; the opposite party stand around ; one of them throws the cat to the batsman nearest to him ; every time the cat is struck, the batsmen run from one hole to the next, and score as many as they change positions; but if the cat is thrown between them before reaching the hole, that * Wilson's Edition of Works, vol. i., fol. 1736. midst of his companions and of the spectators, Bunyan was struck with a sense of guilt. How rapid were his thoughts — ' Vv'ilt thou leave tliv sins and go to heaven, or have thy sins an to hell?' With the eye of Ma understanding he saw the Lord Jesus as 'hotly displeased.' The tempter suggests it is • too, too late' to seek for pardon, and with a desperate resolution which must have cost his heart the severest pangs, he con- tinued his game. Still the impression remained indelibly fixed upon his mind. The next blow which fell upon his hardened spirit was still more deeply felt, because it was given by one from whom he could the least have ex- pected it. lie was standing at a neighbour's shop- window, ' belching out oaths like the madman that Solomon speaks of, -who scatters abroad firebrands, arrows, and death '3 ' after his wonted maimer.' He exemplified the character drawn by the Psalmist. * As he clothed himself with curbing like as with his garment : so let it come into his bowels like water, and like oil into his bones.' Here was a disease that set all human skill at defiance, but the great, the Almighty Physician, cured it with strange physic. Had any pro- fessor reproved him, it might have been passed by as a matter of course ; but it was so ordered that a woman who was notoriously 'a very loose and ungodly wretch,' protested that she trembled to hear him swear and curse at that most fearful rate ; that he was the ungodliest fellow she had ever heard, and that he was able to spoil all the youth in a whole town.'* Public reproof from the lips of such a woman was an arrow that pierced his in- most soul ; it effected a reformation marvellous to all his companions, and bordering upon the miracu- lous. The walls of a fortified city were once thrown down by a shout and the tiny blast of rams'-horns, Jos. vi. '20; and in this instance, the foundations of Heart Castle, fortified by Satan, are shaken by the voice of one of his own emissaries. Mortified and convicted, the foul-mouthed blasphemer swore no more ; an outward reformation in words and con- duct took place, but without inward spiritual life. Thus was he making vows to God and breaking them, repenting and promising to do better next time ; so, to use his own homely phrase, lie was ' feeding God with chapters, and prayers, and pro- mises, and vows, and a great many more such dainty dishes, and thinks that he serveth God as well as any man in England can, while lie has only got into a cleaner way to hell than the rest of his neighbours are in.'0 batsman is out.f Such was the childish game played by men on the Lord's-dav. 3 Life by C. Doe, 1698. 4 Vol. i., p. 9. & Saved by Grace, vol. i., p. 351. t Strult's Sporls and Pastime*, 8vo., p. 110. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. Such a conversion, as lie himself calls it, was • from prodigious profaneness to something like a moral life.'1 ' Now I was, as they said, become godly, and their words pleased me well, though as yet I was nothing hut a poor painted hypocrite. ' These are hard words, but, in the most important sense, they were true. He was pointed out as a miracle of mercy — the great convert — a wonder to the world. He could now suffer opprobrium and cavils — play with errors — entangle himself and drink in flattery. No one can suppose that this outward reform was put on hypocriticall3r, as a dis- guise to attain some sinister object ; it was real, but it arose from a desire to shine before his neigh- bours, from shame and from the fear of future pun- ishment, and not from that love to God which leads the Christian to the fear of offending him. It did not arise from a change of heart; the secret springs of action remained polluted; it was outside show, and therefore he called himself a painted hypocrite. He became less a despiser of religion, but more awfully a destroyer of his own soul. A new source of uneasiness now presented itself in his practice of bell-ringing, an occupation re- quiring severe labour, usually performed on the Lord's-day; and, judging from the general character of bell-ringers, it has a most injurious effect, both with regard to morals and religion. A circumstance had recently taken place which was doubtless inter- preted as an instance of Divine judgment upon Sabbath-breaking. Clark, in his Looking -Glass for Saints and Sinners, 1657, published the narrative: — ' Not long since, in Bedfordshire, a match at foot- ball being appointed on the Sabbath, in the after- uoon whilst two were in the belfry, tolling of a bell to call the company together, there was sud- denly heard a clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning was seen by some that sat in the church- porch coming through a dark lane, and flashing in their faces, which much terrified them, and, passing- through the porch into the belfry, it tripped up his heels that was tolling the bell, and struck him stark dead; and the other that was with him was so sorely blasted therewith, that shortly after he died also.'2 Thus we find that the church bells ministered to the Booh of Sjwrts, to call the com- pany to Sabbath-breaking. The bell-ringers might come within the same class as those upon whom the tower at Siloam fell, still it was a most solemn warning, and accounts for the timidity of so reso- lute a man as Bunyan. Although he thought it did not become his newly-assumed religious cha- racter, yet his old propensity drew him to the church tower. At first he ventured in, but took care to stand under a main beam, lest the bell should fall and crush him; afterwards he would 1 Vol. i., p. 9; No. 32. 2 Folio edition, pp. 50J-6. stand in the door ; then he feared the steeple might fall; and the terrors of an untimely death, Belfry Porcli, ICIstow. and his newly-acquired garb of religion, eventually deterred him from this mode of Sabbath-breaking. His next sacrifice made at the shrine of self- righteousness was dancing: this took him one whole year to accomplish, and then he bade farewell to these sports for the rest of his life.3 We are not to conclude from the example of a man who in after-life proved so great and excellent a character, that, under all circumstances, bell-ringing and dancing are immoral. In those days, such sports and pastimes usually took place on the Lord's-day; and however the Church of England might then sanction it, and proclaim by royal authority, in all her churches, the lawfulness of sports on that sacred day, yet it is now universally admitted that it was commanding a desecration of the Sabbath, and let- ting loose a flood of vice and profaneness. In them- selves, on days proper for recreation, such sports may be innocent; but if they engender an unholy thought, or occupy time needed for self-examination and devotion, they ought to be avoided as siuful hinderauces to a spiritual life. Bunyan was now dressed in the garb of a religious professor, and had become a brisk talker in the matters of religion, when, by Divine mercy, he was stripped of all his good opinion of himself ; 3 In the Engraving, p. 1 , vol. i., is a view of part of the village green, Elstow, with the ancient building now used as a school-house, as seen from the church-yard. This building is older than the time of Bunyan, and was the scene of village meetiugs at the period in which he lived, and doubtless asso- ciated with his dancing and thoughtless amusements, as the green itself was the scene of the game of cat. A view look- ing towards the church is given in Vignette to vol. i. of the Works. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. his want of holiness, ami his unchanged heart, were revealed to his surprise and wonder, by means simple and efficacious, but which no human forethought could have devised. Being engaged in his trade at Bedford, he overheard the conversation of some poor pious women, and it humbled and alarmed him. 'I heard, but I understood not; for they were far above, out of my reach. Their talk was about a new birth, the work of God on their hearts, also how they were convinced of their miserable state by nature ; how God had visited their souls with his love in the Lord Jesus, and with what words and promises they had been refreshed, comforted, aud supported against the temptations of the devil. Moreover, they reasoned of the sug- gestions and temptations of Satan in particular ; and told to each other hy which they had been afflicted, and how they were borne up under his assaults. They also discoursed of their own wretch- edness of heart, of their unbelief; and did con- temn, slight, and abhor their own righteousness, as filthy and insufficient to do them any good. And mcthought they spake as if joy did make them speak ; they spake with such pleasantness of Scrip- ture language, and with such appearance of grace in all they said, that they were to me as if they had found a new world ; as if they were people that dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned among their neighbours. Nu. sxiii. 9. • At this I felt my own heart began to shake, as mistrusting my condition to be nought ; for I saw that in all my thoughts about religion and salvation, the new birth did never enter into my mind; neither kuew I the comfort of the Word and promise, nor the deceitfulness and treachery of my own wicked heart. As for secret thoughts, I took no notice of them; neither did I under- stand what Satan's temptations were, nor how they were to be withstood, and resisted. Thus, therefore, when I heard and considered what they said, I left them, and went about my employment again, but their talk and discourse went with me ; also my heart would tarry with them, for I was greatly affected with their words, both because by them I was convinced that I wanted the true tokens of a truly godly man, and also be- cause by them I was convinced of the happy and blessed condition of him that was such a one.' ! The brisk talker or ' talkative,' was confounded — he heard pious godly women mourning over their worthlessne^ instead of vaunting of their attain- ments. They exhibited, doubtless to his great surprise, that self-distrust and humility are the beginnings of wisdom. These humble disciples could have had no con- ception that the Holy Spirit was blessing their 1 Vol. i., p. 10. Christian communion to the mind of the tinker, standing near them, pursuing his occupation. The recollection of the converse of these poor women led to solemn heart-searching and the most painful anxiety; again and again he sought their com- pany, and his convictions became more deep, his solicitude more intense. This was the commence- ment of an internal struggle, the most remarkable of any upon record, excepting that of the psalmist David. It was the work of the Holy Spirit in regenerat- ing and preparing an ignorant and rebellious man for extraordinary submission to the sacred Scrip- tures, and for most extensive usefulness. To those who never experienced in any degree such feel- ings, they appear to indicate religious insanity. It was so marvellous and so mysterious, as to be mistaken by a poet laureate, who profanely calls it a being • shaken continually by the hot and cold fits of a spiritual ague : ' ' reveries : ' or one of the ' frequent and contagious disorders of the human mind,'2 instead of considering it as wholesome but bitter medicine for the soul, admi- nistered by the heavenly Physician. At times he felt, like David, ' a sword in his bones,' ' tears hi3 meat.' God's waves and billows overwhelmed him, rs. xiii. Then came glimmerings of hope — precious promises saving him from despair — followed by the shadow of death overspreading his soul, and involving him in midnight darkness. He could complain in the bitterness of his anguish, ' Thy fierce wrath goeth over me.' Bound in affliction and iron, his ' soul was melted because of trouble.' 'Now Satan assaults the soul with darkness, fears, frightful thoughts of apparitions ; now they sweat, pant, and struggle for life. The angels now come (Ps. cvii.) down to behold the sight, and rejoice to see a bit of dust and ashes to overcome princi- palities, and powers, and might, and dominion.' 3 His mind was fixed on eternity, and out of the abundance of his heart he spoke to one of his former companions ; his language was that of re- proof— ' Harry, why do you swear and curse thus ? what will become of you if you die in this condi- tion?'4 His sermon, probably the first he had preached, was like throwing pearls before swine — ' He answered in a great chafe, what woidd the devil do for company, if it were not for such as I am.'5 By this time he had recovered the art of read- ing, and its use a little perplexed him, for he became much puzzled with the opinions of the Ranters, as set forth in their books. It is ex- tremely difficult to delineate their sentiments; they were despised by all the sects which had been 2 Southey's Life, pp. xsv., sxxii. 3 Vol. i., p. 80. 4 Vol. i, p. 11. * Vol. hi., p. 607. "VIEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAX. connected with the government, because, with the Quakers and Baptists, they denied any magisterial or state authority over -conscience, and refused maintenance to ministers ; but from the testimony of Bunyan, and that of the early Quakers, they appear to have been practical Antiuomians, or at least very nearly allied to the new sect called Mor- monites. Ross, who copied from Pagitt, describes them with much bitterness — ' The Ranters are unclean beasts — their maxim is that there is no- thing sin but what a man thinks to be so — they reject the Bible — tkey are the merriest of all devils — they deny all obedience to magistrates."1 This temptation must have been severe. The Ranters were like the black man with the white robe, named Flatterer, who led the pilgrims into a net,2 under the pretence of showing them the way to the celestial city ; or like Adam the first, who oifered Faithful his three daughters to wife3 — the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life — if he would dwell with him in the town of Deceit. ' These temptations,' he says, 'were suitable to my flesh,'4 I being but a young man, and my nature in its prime ; and, with his characteristic humility, he adds, ' God, who had, as I hope, designed me for better things, kept me in the fear of his name, and did not suf- fer me to accept such cursed principles.' Prayer opened the door of escape; it led him to the foun- tain of truth. ' I began to look into the Bible with new eyes. Prayer preserved me from Rant- ing errors. The Bible was precious to me in those days.' 5 His study of the Holy Oracles now be- came a daily habit, and that with intense earnest- ness and prayer. In the midst of the multitude of sects with which he was on all sides surround- ed, he felt the need of a standard for the opinions which were each of them eagerly followed by vota- ries, who proclaimed them to be the truth, the way, and the life. He was like a man, feeling that if he erred in the way, it would be attended with misery, and, but for Divine interference, with un- utterable ruin — possessed of a correct map, but surrounded with those who, by flattery, or threats, or deceit, and armed with all human eloquence, strove to mislead him. With an enemy within to urge him to accept their wily guidance, that they might lead him to perdition — inspired by Divine grace, like Christian in his Pilgrim, he ' put his Angers in his ears, and ran on, crying Life, life, eternal life.' He felt utter dependence upon Divine guidance, leading him to most earnest prayer, and an implicit obedience to Holy Writ, which followed him all through the remainder of his pilgrimage. 'The Bible' he calls 'the 1 Ucresiograplty. 4to. 1G54. p. ]43. 2 Vol. iii., p. 151. 3 Vol. iii., p. US. 4 Vol. i.,p.ll. * Vol. i., p. 11. scaffold, or stage, that God has buildcd for hope to play his part upon in this world.' G Hence the Word was precious in his eyes; and with so immense a loss, or so magnificent a gain, the throne of grace was all his hope, that he might be guided by that counsel that cannot err, and. that should eventually insure his receptiou to eternal glory. While in this inquiring state, he experienced much doubt and uncertainty arising from the apparent con- fidence of many professors. In his own esteem he appeared to be thoroughly humbled; and when he lighted on that passage — ' To one is given by the spirit the word of wisdom, to another, knowledge, and to another, faith,.' l Co. xii. s, 9, his solemn in- quiry was, how it happened that he possessed so little of any of these gifts of wisdom, knowledge, or faith — more especially of faith, that being essen- tial to the pleasing of God. He had read Matt. xxi. 21, ' If ye have faith and doubt not, ye shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea ; it shall be done ;' and r,u. xvii. 6, ' If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye might say to this sycamore tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and be thou planted in the sea, and it shall obey you ;' and 1 Co. xiii. 2, ' Though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains.' The poor tinker, considering these passages in their literal import, imagined they were meant as tests to try whether the believer possessed faith or not. He was a stranger to the rules of Hebrew rhe- toric ; nor did he consider that they were ad- dressed to the apostles, who had the power to work miracles. He had no idea that the removing a mountain, or planting a sycamore tree m the sea, were figures of speech conveying to us the fact that, aided by faith, mountainous difficulties might and would be overcome. Anxious for some ocular demonstration that he had faith, he almost determined to attempt to work a miracle — not to convert or confirm the faith of others, but to satisfy his own mind as to his possessing faith. He had no such magnificent idea as the removal of a mountain, for there were none in his neigh- bourhood, nor to plant a tree in the sea, for Bed- fordshire is an inland county; but it was of the humblest kind — that some puddles on the road between Elstow and Bedford should change places with the dry ground. When he had thought of praying for ability, his natural good sense led him to abandon the experiment.7 This he calls ' being in my plunge about faith, tossed betwixt the devil and my own ignorance.'3 All this shows the inten- sity of his feelings and his earnest inquiries. 6 Vol. i., p. 591. 7 The Rev. H. J. Rose, in his Biographical Dictionary, dis- torts this singular affair into, ' he laid claim to a faith of such ; magnitude as to work miracles !' 8" Vol. i., p. 12. MEMOIR OF JOIIX BTJNYA.N. It may occasion surprise to some, that a y«BBg man of such extraordinary powers of mind, sliould have indulged the thought of working a miracle to settle or confirm his doubts; but we HMiat take into account, that when a boy be bad no opportunity rawing scripture! knowledge ; no Sunday schools, no Bible class excited his inquiries as to the meaning of the sacred language. The Bible had been to him a sealed book until, in a state of mental agony, he cried, What must I do to be saved 8 The plain text was all his guide; and it would not have been surprising, had he been calb d to hot lie a cask of new wine, if he had refused to use old wine bottles; or had be cast a loaf into the neighbouring river Ouse, expecting to find it after many days. The astonishing fact is, that one so unlettered should, by intense thought, by earnest prayer, and by comparing one passage with another, arrive eventually at so clear a view both of the external and internal meaning of the whole Bible. The results of his researches were more deeply impressed upon his mind by the mistakes which he had made ; and his intense study, both of the Old and New Testaments, furnished him with an inexhaustible store of things new and old — those vivid images and burning thoughts, those bright and striking illustrations of Divine truth, which so shine and sparkle in all his works. What can be more clear than his illustration of saving faith which worketh by love, when in after-life he wrote the Pilgrim's Progress. Hopeful was in a similar state of inquiry whether he had faith. ' Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing V And then I saw from that saying, He that comcth to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth in me shall never thirst, that believing and coming was all one, and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ. Jn. vi. 25.1 In addition to his want of scriptural education, it must be remembered that, when he thought of miraculous power being an evidence of faith, his mind was in a most excited state — doubts spread over him like huge masses of thick black clouds, hiding the Sun of Righteousness from his sight. Xct only is he to be pardoned for his error, but admired for the humility which prompted him to record so singular a trial, and his escape from ' this in of the tempter.' While • thus he was tossed betwixt the devil and his own ignorance,'2 the happiness of the poor women whose eon- ion he had heard at Bedford, was brought to his recollection by a remarkable reverie or day dream: — 'About this time, the state and hnppiucss of these poor people at Bedford was thus, in a dream or vision, represented Vol. iii., pp. 153, IjG. - Vol. to mc. I saw as if they were set on the sunny side of some high mountain, there refreshing themselves with the pleasant bcani3 of the sun, while I was shivering and shrinking in the cnLl, afflicted with frost, snow, end dark clonds. Methonght al-'i, bBtwbtt me and them, J saw a wall that did compass about this mountain; now through this wall my soul did greatly desire to pass, condfariing that if I could, 1 v. even into the very midst of them, and there also comfort my- self with the heat of their sun. 'About this wall I thought myself to go again and again, still prying, as I went, to see if I could find some way or passage, by which I might enter therein; but none could I find for some time. At the last I saw, as it were, a narrow gap, like a little doorway in the wall, through which I attempted to pass ; but the passage being very strait and narrow, I made many efforts to get in, but all in vain, even until I was well nigh quite beat out, by striving to get in ; at last, with great striving, methonght I at first did get in my head, and after that, by a sidling striving, my shoulders, and my whole body ; then I was exceeding glad, and went and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted with the light and heat of their sun. ' Now this mountain, and wall, was thus made out to me : The mountain signified the church of the living God ; the sun that shone thereon, the comfortable shining of his merci- ful face on them that were therein j the wall I thought was the Word, that did make separation between the Christians and the world; and the gap which was in this wall, I thought, was Jesus Christ, who is the way to God the lather. Jolm xiv. 6; Mat. vii. u. But forasmuch as the passage was wonder- ful narrow, even so narrow that I could not, but with great difficulty, enter iu thereat, it showed me, that none could enter into life, but those that were in downright earnest, and unless also they left this wicked world behind them ; for here was only room for body and soul, but not for body and soul and sin.y 'This resemblance abode upon my spirit many days; all which time I saw myself in a forlorn and sad condition, but yet was provoked to a vehement hunger and desire to be one of that number that did sit in the sunshine. Xow also I should pray wherever I was ; whether at home or abroad, in house or field, and should also often, with lifting up of heart, sing that of the fifty-first Psalm, " O Lord, consider my distress." ' 4 In this striking reverie we discover the budding forth of that great genius which produced most beautiful flowers and delicious fruit, when it be- came fully developed in bis allegories. While this trial clouded his spirits, he was called to endure temptations which are common to most, if not all, inquiring souls, and which frequently produce much anxiety. He plunged into the xini- versity problems of predestination, before he had completed his lower grammar-school exercises on faith and repentance. Am I one of the elect? or has the day of grace been suffered to pass by never to return ? ' Although he was in a flame to find the way to heaven and glory,' these questions afflic- ted and disquieted him, so that the very strength of his body was taken away by the force and power thereof. ' Lord, thought I, what if 1 should not 3 It is as easy for a camel to go through (he eye of a needle, as for a man to" pass through this door with the world on his back. 4 Vol. i., p. 13. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. be elected! It may be you are not, said the tempter ; it may be so, indeed thought I. Why then, said Satan, you had as good leave off, and strive no farther; for if indeed you should not be elected and chosen of God, there is no talk of your being saved ; "for it is neither of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy." ' By these things I was driven to my -wit's end, not knowing what to say, or how to answer these temptations. Indeed, I little thought that Satan had thus assaulted me, but that rather it was my own prudence thus to start the question : for that the elect only obtained eternal life ; that I without scruple did heartily close withal ; but that myself was one of them, there lay all the question.'1 Thus was he for many weeks oppressed and cast down, and near to ' giving up the ghost of all his hopes of ever attaining life,' when a sentence fell with weight upon his spirit — ' Look at the genera- tions of old and see; did ever any trust in the Lord and was confounded, ' Ecdesiastieos a. 10. This encou- raged him to a diligent search from Genesis to Reve- lation, which lasted for above a year, and although he could not find that sentence, yet he was amply rewarded for this diligent examination of the Holy Oracles, and thus he obtained ' yet more experience of the love and kindness of God.' At length he found it in the Apocrypha, and, although not the language of inspiration, yet as it contained the sum and substance of the promises, he took the comfort of it, and it shone before his face for years. The fear that the day of grace had passed pressed heavily upon him ; he was humbled, and bemoaned the time that he had wasted. Now he was con- fronted with that ' grim-faced one, the Captain Fast-hope, with his terrible standard,' carried by Ensign Despair, red colours, with a hot iron and a hard heart, and exhibited at Eye-gate.2 At length these words broke in upon his mind, ' compel them to come in, that my house may be filled — and yet there is room.' This Scripture powerfully affected him with hope, that there was room in the bosom and in the house of Jesus for his afflicted soul. His next temptation was to return to the world. This was that terrible battle with Apollyon, depicted in the Pilgrim's Progress, and it is also described at some length in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved. Among many very graphic and varied pictures of his own experience, he introduces the following dialogue with the tempter, probably alluding to the trials he was now passing through. Satan is loath to part Avith a great sinner. ' This day is usually attended with much evil towards them that are asking the way to Zion, with their faces thitherward. Now the devil has lost a sin- 1 Vol. i., p. 13. 2 Holy War, vol. iii., p. 842, 346. ner ; there is a captive has broke prison, and one run away from his master. Now hell seems to be awakened from sleep, the devils are come out. They roar, and roaring they seek to recover their runaway. Now tempt him, threaten him, flatter him, stigmatize him, throw dust into his eyes, poison him with error, spoil him while he is upon the potter's wheel, anything to keep him from coming to Christ.'3 * What, my true ser- vant,' quoth he, ' my old servant, wilt thou forsake me now ? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know, that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost thou think to find mercy now ? Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sin- ner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now ? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee ? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at heaven-gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it ?' Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply ? saith the tempted. Why, I grauted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how? No, saith he, I said, I am Magdalene, I am Zaccheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publican, I am the prodi- gal, and one of Christ's murderers ; yea, worse than any of these ; and yet God was so far off from rejecting of me, as I found afterwards, that there was music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I was come home unto him. 0 blessed be God for grace (says the other), for then I hope there is favour for me. Yea, as I told you, such a one is a contiuual spectacle in the church, for every one by to behold God's grace and wonder by.* These are the ' things the angels desire to look into,' l Pe. i. 12, or as Bunyan quaintly says, this is the music which causes ' them that dwell in the higher orbs to open their windows, put out their heads, and look down to see the cause of that glory.' Le. xv. 7, io.5 As he became less agitated with fear, and drew consolation more frequently from the promises, with a timid hope of salvation, he began to exhibit singu- lar powers of conception in spiritualizing temporal things. His first essay was to find the hidden meaning in the division of God's creatures into clean and unclean. Chewing the cud, and parting the hoof, he conceived to be emblematical of our feeding upon the Word of God, and parting, if we would be saved, with the ways of ungodly men.'6 It is not sufficient to chew the cud like the hare — Bunvan on the Throne of Grace, vol. i., p. 677. Vol. i., p. SO. & Holy War, vol. iii., p. 297- 6 Vol. i., p. 14. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. nor to part the hoof like the swine — we must do hoth; that is, possess the word of faith, and that he evidenced by parting with our outward pollutions. This spiritual meaning of part of the Mosaic dis- pensation is admirably introduced into the Pil- grim's Progress, when Christian and Faithful ana- lyse the character of Talkative.1 This is the germ of that singular talent which flourished in after-life, of exhibiting a spiritual meaning drawn from every part of the Mosaic dispensation, and which leads one of our most admired writers2 to suggest, that if Bunyan had lived and written dur- ing the early days of Christianity, he would have been the greatest of the fathers. Although he had received that portion of com- fort which enabled him to indulge in religious speculations, still his mind was unsettled, and full of fears. He now became alarmed lest he had not been effectually called to inherit the kingdom of heaven.0 lie felt still more humbled at the weak- ness of human nature, and at the poverty of wealth. Could this call have been gotten for money, and ' could I have given it; had I a whole world, it had all gone ten thousand times over for this.' In this he was sincere, and so he was when he said, I would not lose one promise, or have it struck out of the Bible, if in return I could have as much gold as would reach from London to York, piled up to the heavens. In proportion to his soul's salvation, honour was a worthless phan- tom, and gold but glittering dust. His earnest desire was to hear his Saviour's voice calling him to his service. Like many young disciples, he re- gretted not having been born when Christ was manifest in the flesh, ' Would I had been Peter or John ! ' their privations, sufferings, martyrdom, was nothing in comparison to their being with, and hearing the voice of the Son of God calling them to his service. Strange, hut general delusion ! as if Christ were not the same yesterday, to day, and ior ever. Groaning for a sense of pardon, he was comforted by Joel — ' I will cleanse their blood that I have not cleansed, for the Lord dwelleth in Zion,' Joeini. 21, and he was led to seek advice and assistance from a neighbouring minister, and from pious persons. The poor women in Bedford, whose conversation had been blessed to his thorough awakening, were sought for, and to them he unfolded his sorrows. They were members of a Baptist church, under the pastoral care of John Gifford, a godly, pains- taking, and most intelligent minister, whose his- tory is very remarkable. In early life he had been, j like Bunyan, a thoroughly depraved character ; ! like him had entered the army, and had been pro- I moted to the rank of a major in the royal forces, i Having made an abortive attempt to raise a rebel- 1 Vol. iii., p. 123. - Addison. s Vol. i., p. 14. j VOL. in. lion in his native county of Kent,4 he and eleven others were made prisoners, tried by martial law, and condemned to the gallows. On the night previous to the day appointed for his execution, his sister found access to the prison. The guards were asleep, and his companions drowned in intoxi- cation. She embraced the favourable moment, and set him at liberty. Ho lay concealed in a ditch for three days, till the heat of the search was over, and in disguise escaped to London, and thence to Bedford, where, aided by some great people who favoured the royal cause, he commenced business as a doctor. Here his evil habits followed him, notwithstanding his merciful deliverance. Swear- ing, druukenness, gambling, and other immoral practices, rendered him a curse to others, especially to the Puritans, whom he bitterly persecuted. One night he lost fifteen pounds at play, and, becoming outrageous, he cast angry reproaches upon God. In this state he took up a book by R. Bolton — he read, and his conscience was terror-stricken. Dis- tress, under conviction of sin, followed him. He searched his Bible, and found pardon and accept- ance. He now sought acquaintance with those whom before he had persecuted, but, like Paul, when in similar circumstances, ' they were all afraid of him.' His sincerity soon became appa- rent ; and, uniting with eleven others, they formed a church. These men had thrown off the fetters of education, and were, unbiassed by any sectarian feeling, being guided solely by their prayerful re- searches into divine truth as revealed in the Bible. Their whole object was to enjoy Chris- tian communion — to extend the reign of grace — to live to the honour of Christ — and they formed a new, and at that time unheard-of, community. Water-baptism was to be left to individual convic- tion; they were to love each other equally, whether they advocated baptism in infancy, or in riper years. The only thing essential to church-fel- lowship, in Mr. Gilford's opinion, was — ' Union with Christ ; this is the foundation of all saints' communion, and not any judgment about externals.' To the honour of the Baptists, these peaceable prin- ciples appear to have commenced with two or three of their ministers, and for the last two centuries they have been, like heavenly leaven, extending their delightful influence over all bodies of Christians. Such was the man to whom Bunyan was intro- duced for religious advice and consolation ; and he assisted in forming those enlarged and non- sectarian principles which made his ministry blessed, and will render his Works equally ac- ceptable to all evangelical Christians in every age 4 April 1G 15. About 300 discontented persons jrot ;•■ in Kent, and took Sir Pcrcival Hart's bouse; Colonel Blunt attacked and dispersed them with horse and foot, regained the house, andmadethechief oftheni prisoners. Whit dock, folic 1 37. c MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. of the cliurcli. Introduced to such a minister, and attending social meetings for prayer and Christian converse, he felt still more painfully his own ignorance, and the inward wretchedness of his own heart. 'His corruptions put themselves forth, and his desires for heaven seemed to fail.' In fact, while he compared himself with his former self, he was a religious giant ; in com- parison with these pious, long-standing Chris- tians, he dwindled into a pigmy ; and in the pre- sence of Christ he became, in his own view, less than nothing, and vanity. He thus describes his feelings : — ' I began to sink — my heart laid me low as hell. I was driven as with a tempest — my heart would be unclean — the Canaanites would dwell in the land.'1 He was like the child which the father brought to Christ, who, while he was coming to Him, was thrown down by the devil, and so rent and torn that he lay and Avallowed, foaming. His heart felt so hard, that with many a bitter sigh lie cried, ' Good Lord ! break it open. Lord, break these gates of brass, and cut these bars of iron asunder,' Ps. cvu. 16. Little did he then think that his bitterness of spirit was a direct answer to such prayers. Break- ing the heart was attended with anguish in propor- tion as it had been hardened. During this time he was tender and seusitive as to the least sin ; 'now I durst not take a pin or a stick, my con- science woidd smart at every touch.' *0, how gingerly did I then go in all I said or did ! ' 2 ' Still sin would as naturally bubble out of my heart as water would bubble out of a fountain.' He felt surprised when he saw professors much troubled at their losses, even at the death of the dearest relative. His whole concern was for his salvation, lie imagined that he could bear these small afflic- tions with patience ; but ' a wounded spirit who can bear?' In the midst of all these miseries, and at times regretting that he had been endowed with an im- mortal spirit, liable to eternal ruin, he was jealous of receiving comfort, lest it might be based upon any false foundation. Still as his only hope he was constant in his attendance upon the means of grace, and 'when comforting time was come,' he heard one preach upon two words of a verse, which conveyed strong consolation to his weary spirit; the words were, ' my love,' Song iv. 1. From these words the minister drew the following conclusions : — 1. That the church, and so every saved soul, is Christ's love, even when loveless ; 2. Christ's love is without a cause ; 3. They are Christ's love when hated of the world ; 4. Christ's love when under temptation and under desertion ; 5. Christ's love from first to last.3 Now was his heart filled with comfort and hope. ' I could believe that my sins should be forgiven me;' and, in a state of rap- ture, he thought that his trials were over, and that the savour of it would go with him through life. Alas! his enjoyment was but for a season — the preparation of his soul for future usefulness was not yet finished. In a short time the words of our Lord to Peter came powerfully into his mind — ' Satan hath desired to have you ;' and so strong was the impression they made, that he thought some man addressed them to him ; he even turned his head to see who it was that thus spoke to him. This was the forerunner of a cloud and a storm that was coming upon him. It was the gathering up of Satan's mighty strength, to have, if possible, over- whelmed him. His narrative of this internal tem- pest in his soul — this last great struggle with the powers of darkness — is very striking. * About the space of a month after, a very great storm came down upon me, which handled me twenty times worse than all I had met with before ; it came stealiug upon me, now by one piece, then by another. First, all my comfort was taken from me ; then darkness seized upon me ; after which, whole floods of blasphemies, both against God, Christ, and the Scriptures, were poured upon my spirit, to my great confusion and asto- nish meat. These blasphemous thoughts were such as also stirred up questions in me against the very being of God, and of his only beloved Son. As, whether there were in truth a God or Christ, or no ? And whether the Holy Scriptures were not rather a fable, and cunning story, thau the holy and pure Word of God. ' These suggestions, with many others, which at this time I may not, dare not utter, neither by word nor pen, did make such a seizure upon my spirit, and did so overweigh my heart, both with their number, continuance, and fiery force, that I felt as if there were nothing else but these from morn- ing to night within me, and as though indeed there could be room for nothing else ; and also concluded, that God had, iu very wrath to my soul, given me up uuto them, to be carried away with them as with a mighty whirlwind. « Only by the distaste that they gave unto my spirit, I felt there was something in me that refused to embrace them.'1 Here are the facts which are allegorized in the history of Christian, passing through the Valley of Humiliation, and fighting with the Prince of the power of the air. 'Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall ; and with that Christian's sword flew out of his hand.' This was the effect of his doubts of the inspiration of the Scriptures— the sword of the Spirit. ' I am sure of thee now, said Apollyon ; and with that he had almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life ; but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, "Rejoice not against me, 0 mine enemy, when I fall I shall arise," Mi. vii. s; and with that gave him a deadly Vol. i., p. 15. - Vol. i., p. lj 3 Vol. i., p. 16. No. 82. * Vol. i., p. 17, 13. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUN VAX. thrust, which made him gfcw back as one that had [ resented his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, " Nay, m all . these things we are more than conquerors through : him that loved us ;" and with that Apolkon spread forth his dragon wings, and sped him away.'1! What an awful moment, when he fell unarmed before his ferocious enemy! 'Faith now has but i little time to speak to the conscience — it is now Btruggting for life — it is now lighting with angels — with internals — all it can do now is to cry, groan, sweat, fear, fight, and gasp for life.'" I How desperate the eoniiict — the mouth of hell j yawning to swallow him — man cannot aid the poor warrior, all his help is in God, Is it not a wonder to see a poor creature, who in himself is weaker than the moth, to stand against and overcome all devils — all the world — all his lusts and corruptions; or, if he fall, is it not a wonder to see him, when devils and guilt are upon him, to rise again, stand upon his legs, walk with God again, and persevere in faith and holiness?'3 This severe conflict lasted for about a year. He describes his feelings at times as resembling the frightful pangs of one broken on the wheel. The sources of his misery were fears that he had sinued against the Holy Ghost; and that through his hardness of heart and impatience in prayer — he should not persevere to the end. During all this time, occasional visits of mercy kept him from despair ; and at some intervals filled him with transports of joy. At one time so delightfully was his burden removed that he could not tell how to contain himself. ' I thought I could have spoken of his love and of his mercy to me, even to the very crows that sat upon the ploughed lands before me, had they been capable to have understood me.4 Thus his feelings were controlled by reason, very different to the poor madman who, in olden time, is represented as preaching to the fish. "With Bunyau it was a hallowed joy — a gush of holy gladness, in which he wished all creation to parti- cipate. His heart was baptized in hope. ' I kuow that my Redeemer livcth ;' and with holy Job, he wished to perpetuate his joy by a memorial not in rock, but in a book of remembrance. ' I would I had a pen and ink here to write it down.' This is the first desire that he expressed to pro- claim or publish to others the great Saviour he had found : but he was not yet prepared ; he must pass through deeper depths, and possess a living knowledge of Divine truth, burnt into his soul by satanic fires. Very soon after this, he was harassed with 1 Vol. iii., p. 113. - Buuyan's Saints' Privilege and Profit, vol. i., p. CGI. 3 Buuyan's Saved ly Grace, vol. i., p. 340. 1 Vol. i., p. 17. fear lest he should part with Christ. Tho tempter, as he did with Christian in the Valley of the Shallow of Death, suggested blasphemies to him, which he thought had proceeded from his own mind. ' Satan troubled him with his stinking breath. How many strange, hideous, and amazing blasphemies bare some that are coming to Christ had injected upon their spirits against him.'6 ' The devil is iudeed very busy at work during the darkness of a soul. He throws in his fiery darts to amazement, when we arc encompassed with the terrors of a dismal night; he is bold and un- daunted in his assaults, and injects with a quick and sudden malice a thousand monstrous and abo- minable thoughts of God, which seem to be the motions of our own minds, and terribly grieve and trouble us.'0 What makes these arrows more penetrating and distressing is, that Satan, with subtle art, tips them with sentences of Scripture. 'No place for repentance;' 'rejected;' 'hath never forgive- ness,' and other passages which, by the malignant ingenuity of the fiend, are formed by his skill as the cutting and barbed points of his shafts. At one time Bunyan concluded that he was possessed of the devil ; then he was tempted to speak and sin against the Holy Ghost. He thought himself alone in such a tempest, and that no oue had ever felt such misery as he did. When in prayer, his mind was distracted with the thought that Satan was pulling his clothes ; he was even tempted to fall down and worship him. Then he would cry after God, in awful fear that eventually Satan would overcome him. During all this time he was strug- gling against the tempter; and, at length, the day- spring visited him in these words, ' I am persuaded that nothing shall separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.' Again he was cast down with a recollection of his former blasphemies. What reason can I have to hope for an inheritance in eternal life ? The question was answered with that portion of Scripture, ' If God be for us, who can be against us?' These were visits which, like Peter's sheet, of a sudden were caught up to 5 Bunyau's Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. i., p. 210. c .Rogers on Trouble of Mind. Preface. Thus temptations are suited to the state of the inquiring soul; the learned man who studies Plato, Aristotle, and Aquinas, is filled with doubts arising from 'philosophy and vain deceit, profane end vain babblings ;" the uulettered* mechanic is tried not by logic, but by infernal artillery ; the threateuings of God's Word are obscure the promises. It is a struggle which, to one possessing a vivid imagination, is attended with almost intoler- able agonies — unbelief seals up the door of mercy. Bunyan agreed with his learned contemporary, Milton, in the invisible agency of good and bad spirits. 'Millions of spiritual oreftttties '•', : L'uscen, both when we wake and when v. The malignant demons watch their opportunity to harass the pilgrim with evil thoughts, injected when least expected. MEMOIR OF JOHN BVNYAN. Leaven again.1 At length, the Sun of Righteous- ness arose, and shone upon him with healing in- fluence. * He hath made peace through the hlood of his cross,' came with power to his mind, followed hy the consoling words of the apostle, ' Forasmuch, then, as the children are partakers of flesh and hlood, he also himself likewise took part of the same ; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage,' He. ii. u, is. This was the key that opened every lock in Doubting Castle. The prisoner escaped to breathe the air of hope, and joy, and peace. ' This,' said he, 'was a good day to me, I hope I shall not forget it.' 1 1 thought that the glory of those words was then so weighty on me, that I was, both once and twice, ready to swoon as I sat, not with grief and trouble, but with solid joy and peace. ' His mind was now in a fit state to seek for church fellowship, as a further means of advance in his knowledge of Divine love. To effect this object, he was naturally led to the Baptist church at Bedford, to which those pious women belonged whose Christian communion had been blessed to him. I sat under the ministry of holy Mr. Gifford, whose doctrine, by God's grace, was much for my stability.' 2 Although his soul was led from truth to truth, his trials were not over — he passed through many severe exercises before he was received into communion with the church.3 At length he determined to become identified with a body of professed Christians, who were treated with great scorn by other sects because they denied infant baptism, and he became en- gaged in the religious controversies which were fashionable in those days. We have noticed his encounter with the Ranters, and he soon had to give battle to persons called Quakers. Before the Society of Friends was formed, and their rules of discipline were published, many Rant- ers and others, some of whom were bad charac- ters and held the wildest opinions, passed under the name of Quakers. Some of these denied that the Bible was the Word of God; and asserted that the death of Christ was not a full atonement for sin — that there is no future resurrection, and other gross errors. The Quakers, who were afterwards united to form the Society of Friends, from the 1 Vol. L, p. 19. ' Vol. L, p. 20. 3 The anxiety of this pious teacher was to press upon his hearers ' to take special heed,' not to receive any truth upon trust from any man, but to pray over it and search ' the Holy Word.5 This, Mr. Southey designates, ' doctrine of a most perilous kind.' How happy would it be for society if every religious teacher pressed this perilous doctrine upon their hearers, that it might bring forth the same fruit universally, as it did specially in Bunyan. Compare Grace Abounding, No. 117, and Southefs Life, p. 27, 28. first denied all those errors. Their earliest apolo- gist, Barclay, in his theses on the Scriptures, says, ♦ They are the doctrines of Christ, held forth in precious declarations, spoken and written by the movings of God's Spirit/ Whoever it was that asserted the heresies, to Bunyan the investi- gation of them, in the light of Divine truth, was attended with great advantages. It was through 'this narrow search of the Scriptures that he was not only enlightened, but greatly confirmed and comforted in the truth.* He longed to compare his experience with that of some old and eminent convert, and ' God did cast into his hand ' Luther On the Galalians, 'so old that it was ready to fall piece from piece, if I did but turn it over/5 The commentary of this enlightened man was a counterpart to his own feelings. * I found,' says Bunyan, ' my condition, in his experience so largely and profoundly handled, as if his book had been written out of my own heart. I prefer the book before all others as most fit for a wounded conscience.' This was the ' voice of a man ' that Christian ' heard as going before him in the Valley of the Shadow of Death,' and was glad that some who feared God were in this valley as well as himself, who could say, ' I will fear no evil for thou art with me.' 6 In many things Luther and Bunyan were men of similar tem- perament. Like Emmanuel's captains, in the Holy War, they were ' very stout rough-hewn men ; men that were fit to break the ice, and to make their way by dint of sword/ 7 They were ani- mated by the same principles, and fought with the same weapons ; and although Luther resided in a castle protected by princes, was furnished with profound scholastic learning, and became a terror to Popery ; yet the voice of the unlettered tinker, issuing from a dreary prison, bids fair to be far more extensively heard and blessed than that of this most illustrious reformer.8 4 Vol. i., p. 21. 6 Vol. L, p. 22. c Vol. iii., p. 115. 7 Vol. ill., p. 270. 8 Luther fell into the same mistake as to the Baptists, that Bunyan did as to the Quakers. Both were keenly alive to the honour of Christianity, and were equally misled by the loose conduct of some unworthy professors. Luther charges the Baptists as being ' devils possessed with worse devils.' * ' It is all one whether he be called a Frank, a Turk, a Jew, or an Anabaptist.' f ' Possessed with the devil, seditious, and bloody men. 'J Even a few days before his death, he wrote to his wife, ' Dearest Kate, we reached Halle at eight o'clock, but could not get on to Eisleben, for there met us a great Anabaptist, with waves and lumps of ice, which threatened us with a second baptism.' Bunyan, iu the same spirit, calls the Quakers 'a company of loose ranters, light notionists, shaking in their principles ! ' § Denying the Scriptures and the resurrection. jj These two great men went through the same furnace of the regeneration ; and Bunyan, notwithstanding Luther's prejudices against the Baptists, most affectionately recommended his Comment on the Galalians, as an invaluable work for binding up the broken-hearted. * Preface to Galatians. + Com. Gal. iv. 8, 9. % Gal. v. 19. § Vol. ii., p. 133, 9, 21. y Com. Gal. iv. 29. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. Bunyan'3 happiness was now very c;reat; his soul, with all its affections, clavo unto Christ: but lest spiritual pride should exalt him beyond mea- sure, and lest he should be scared to renounce his Saviour, by the- threat of transportation and death, his heart was again wounded, and quickly after this his ' love was tried to purpose.' The tempter came in upon him with a most grievous and dreadful temptation; it was to part with Christ, to exchange him for the things of this life; he was perpetually tormented with the words 'sell Christ.' At length, he thought that his spirit gave way to the temptation, and a dreadful and profound state of despair overpowered him for the dreary space of more than two years.1 This is the most extraordinary part of this won- derful narrative, that he, without apparent cause, should thus be tempted, and feel the bitterness of a supposed parting with Christ. There was, doubt- less, a cause for every pang; his heavenly Father afflicted him for his profit. We shall soon have to follow him through fiery trials. Before the justices, allured by their arguments, and particularly by the sophistry of their clerk, Mr. Cobb, and then dragged from a beloved wife and from children to whom he was most fondly attached — all these fiery trials might be avoided, if he would but ' sell Christ.' A cold damp dungeon was to incarcerate his body for twelve tedious years of the prime of his life, unless he would c sell Christ.' His minis- tering brother and friend, John Child, a Bedford man, who bad joined in recommending Bunyan's Vindication of Gospel Truths,- fell under this tempta- tion, and fearing temporal ruin and imprisonment for life, conformed, and then fell into the most awful state of despair, suffering such agonies of conscience, that, to get rid of present trouble, he hurried himself into eternity. Probably Bunyan alludes to this awful instance of fell despair in his Publican and Phaiisee : * Sin, when appearing in it3 monstrous shape and hue, frighteth all mortals out of their wits, away from God; and if he stops them not, also out of the world.' J To arm Bunyan against being overcome by a fear of the lions in the way to the house Beautiful — against giving way, under persecution — he was visited with terrors lest he should sell or part with Christ. During these sad years he was not wholly sunk in despair, but had at times some glimmerings of mercy. In comparing his supposed sin with that of Judas, he was constrained to find a difference between a deliberate intention to sell Christ and a sudden temptation.4 Through all these searchings of heart and inquiries at the Word, he became fixed in the doctrine of the final perseverance of God's saints. 1 Vol. i., p. 23. s Vol. ii., p. 2C0. -Vol. ii., p. 181. 4 Vol. i., p. 25; Xo. 158. ' 0 what love, what care, what kindness and mercy did I now see mixing itself with the most severe and dreadful of all God's ways to his people ; ho never let them fall into sin unpardonable.' 'But theso thoughts added grief and horror to me ; I thought that all things wrought for my eternal overthrow.' So ready is the tender heart to write bitter things against itself, and as ready is the tempter to whisper despairing thoughts. In the midst of this distress he ' saw a glory in walking with God/ although a dismal cloud enveloped him. This misery was aggravated by reading the fear- ful estate of Francis Spira, who had been persuaded to return to a profession of Popery, and died in a state of awful despair.5 ' This book ' was to his troubled spirit like salt rubbed into a fresh wound. Bunyan now felt his body and mind shaking and tottering under the sense of the dreadful judgment of God ; and he thought his sin — of a momentary and unwilling consent to give up Christ — was a greater sin than all the sins of David, Solomon, Manasseh, and even than all the sins that had been committed by all God's redeemed ones. Was there ever a man in the world so capable of describing the miseries of Doubting Castle, or of the Slough of Despond, as poor John Bunyan ? He would have run from God in utter despera- tion; 'but, blessed be his grace, that Scripture, in these flying sins, would call, as runuing after me, " I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgres- sions, and, as a cloud, thy sins: return unto me, for I have redeemed thee,"' ls.xiiT.22. Still he was haunted by that scripture, ' You know how that afterwards, when he would have inherited the blessing, he found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.' Thus was he tossed and buffeted, involved in cloudy darkness, with now and then a faint gleam of hope to save him from despair. ' In all these/ he says, ' I was but as those that justle against the rocks ; more broken, scattered, and rent. Oh! the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt.'0 ' Methought I saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light, and as if the very stones in the street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me.'7 Here we find him in that doleful valley, where Christian was surrounded by enemies that ' cared not for his sword,' he put it up, and places his dependence upon the more penetrating weapon, 'All Prayer.' Depending upon this last resource, he prayed, even when in this great darkness and distress. To whom could he go ? his case was beyond the power of men or angels. His refuge, from a fear of having committed the unpardonable sin, was that he had 6 See note in vol i., p. 2G. 0 Vol. i., p. 29. 7 Vol. i., p. 80. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. never refused to be justified by tbe blood of Cbvist, but ardently wished it; this, in the midst of the storm, caused a temporary calm. At length, he ■was led to look prayerfully upon those scriptures that had tormented him, and to examine their scope and tendency, and then he ' found their visage changed, for they looked not so grimly on him as before he thought they did.'1 Still, after Buch a tempest, the sea did not at once become a calm. Like one that had been scared with fire, every voice was fire, fire ; every little touch hurt his tender conscience.2 All this instructive history is pictured by a few words in the Pilgrim's Progress. At the Inter- preter's house the pilgrim is shown ' a fire burn- ing against a wall, and one standing by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter.'3 As Esau beat him down, Christ raised him again. The threatening and the promise were like glittering swords clashing together, but the promise must prevail. His entire relief at last was sudden, while meditating in the field upon the words, ' Thy righteousness is in heaven.' Hence he drew the conclusion, that his righteousness was in Christ, at God's right hand, ever before him, secure from all the powers of sin and Satan. Now his chains fell oif; he was loosed from his affliction and irons ; his temptation fled away. His present supply of grace he compared to the cracked groats and fourpence half-pennies,4 which rich men carry in their pockets, while their treasure is safe in their trunks at home, as his was in the store- house of heaven. This dreary night of awful conflict lasted more than two years; hut when the day-spring from on high visited him, the promises spangled in his eyes, and he broke out into a song, 'Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the fir- mament of his power. Praise him for his mighty 1 The study of those scriptures, in order that the solemn question might be safely resolved, ' Can such a fallen sinner rise again?' was like the investigation of the title to an estate upon which a whole livelihood depended. Every apparent flaw must he critically examined. Tremblingly alive to the import- ance of a right decision, his prayers were most earnest ; and at length, to his unspeakable delight, the word of the law and wrath ^avc place to that of life and grace. 2 Vol. i., p. 35. 3 Vol. iii, p. 100. 4 Irish sixpences, which passed for fourpence-halfpcnny. See the note on vol. i., p. 30. Since writing that note I have discovered another proof of the contempt with which that coin was treated : — ' Christian, the wife of Robert Green, of Bres- liam, Somersetshire, in 1663, is said to have made a covenant with the devil; he pricked the fourth finger of her right hand, between the middle and upper joints, and took two drops of her blood on his finger, giving her a fourpence-half- penny. Then he spake in private with Catharine her sister, aud vanished, leaving a smell of brimstone behind ! ' — Turner's Remarkable Providences, folio, 1667, p. 2S. acts : praise him according to his excellent great- ness.'5 Bunyan's opinion as to the cause of this bitter suffering, was his want of watchfulness, his not coming boldly to the throne of grace, and that he had tempted God. The advantages he con- sidered that he had gained by it were, that it confirmed his knowledge of the existence of God, so that he lost all his temptations to unbelief, blas- phemy, and hardness of heart, Doubts as to the truth of the Word, and certainty of the world to come, were gone for ever. He found no difficulty as to the keys of the king- dom of heaven. « Now I saw the apostles to be the elders of the city of refuge, those that they were to receive in, were received to life, but those that they were to shut out, were to be slain by the avenger of blood.' Those were to enter who, with Peter, confessed to Jesus, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,' Mat. xvi. ie. This is simply an authority to proclaim salvation or condemnation to those who receive or reject the Saviour. It is upon his shoulder the key of the house is laid, is. xxii. 22. Christ only has the key, no man openetli or shutteth, Re. i. is ; iii. 7. All that man can do, as to binding or loosening, is to warn the hardened and to invite the contrite. By these trials, the promises became more clear and invaluable than ever. He never saw those heights and depths in grace, and love, and mercy, as he saw them after this severe trial — ' great sins drew out great grace;' and the more terrible and fierce guilt was, the more high and mighty did the mercy of God in Christ appear. These are Bunyan's own reflections; but may we not add to them, that while he was in God's school of trial, every groan, every bitter pang of anguish, and every gleam of hope, were intended to fit him for his future work as a preacher and writer? Weighed in the balances of the sanctuary, there was not a jot too little, or an iota too much. Every important subject which embarrasses the convert, was most minutely investi- gated, especially faith, the sin against the Holy Ghost, the divinity of Christ, and such essential truths. He well knew every dirty lane, and nook, and corner of Mansoul, in which the Diabolonians found shelter, and well he knew the frightful sound of Diabolus's drum.6 Well did his pastor, John Burton, say of him, ' He hath through grace taken these three heavenly degrees, to wit, union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan, which do more fit a man for that mighty work of preaching the gospel, than all the university learning and degrees that can be had.'7 Preserved in Christ Jesus, and called — selected Holy War. Vol. ii., p. 141. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. from Lis associates in sin, he was taken into this school, and underwent the strictest religious edu- cation. It was here alone that his rare talent could be cultivated, to enable him, in two immortal allegories, to narrate the internal discipline he underwent. It was here he attained that habitual access to the throne of grace, and that insight into the inspired volume, which tilled his writings with those solemn realities of the world to come ; while it enabled him to reveal the mysteries of com- munion with the Father of spirits, as he so wou- drously does in his treatise on prayer. To use the language of Milton — t These are works that could not be composed by the invocation of Dame Memory and her Siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and send out his seraphim, with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases, with- out reference to station, birth, or education.' The tent-maker and tinker, the fisherman and publican, and even a friar or monk,1 became the honoured instruments of his choice. Throughout all Bunyan's writings, he never murmurs at his want of education, although it is often a source of humble apology. He honoured the learned godly as Christians, but preferred the Bible before the library of the two universities.2 He saw, what every pious man must see and lament, that there is much idolatry in human learning, and that it was frequently applied to confuse and im- pede the gospel. Thus he addresses the reader of his treatise on Tlie Law and Grace — ' If thou find this book empty of fantastical expressions, and without light, vain, whimsical, scholar-like terms, it is because I never went to school, to Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at my father's house, in a very mean condition, among a company of poor countrymen. But if thou do find a parcel of plain, yet sound, true, and home sayings, attribute that to the Lord Jesus his gifts and abilities, which he hath bestowed upon such a poor crea- ture as I am and have been.'3 His maxim was — ' Words easy to be understood do often hit the mark, whan high and learned ones do only pierce the air. He also that speaks to the weakest may make the learned understand him ; when he that slricetli to be high, is not only of the most part understood but of a sort, but also many times is neither understood by them nor by himself!'4 This is one of Bunyan's maxims, well worthy the consideration of the most profoundly learned writers, and also of the most eloquent preachers and public speakers. Banyan was one of those pioneers who are far Luther and Tvndnlc. Vol. i., p. 195. - Vol. iii., p. 398. 4 Vol. iii., p. 3(Jb. in advance of the age in which they live, and the narrative of his birth and education adds to tho innumerable contradictions which the history o£ man opposes to the system of Mr. Owen and the Socialists, and to every scheme for making tho offspring of the poor follow in leading-strings the course of their parents, or for rendering them blindly submissive to the dictates of the rich, the learned, or the influential. It incontcstibly proves the gospel doctrine of individuality, and, that native talent will rise superior to all impediments. Our forefathers struggled for the right of private judgment in matters of faith and worship — their descendants will insist upon it, as essential to salva- tion, personally to examine every doctrine rela- tive to the sacred objects of religion, limited only by Holy Writ. This must be done with rigorous impartiality, throwing aside all the prejudices of education, and be followed by prompt obedience to Divine truth, at any risk of offending parents, or laws, or resisting institutions, or ceremonies which ' he discovers to be of human invention. All this, as we have seen in Buuyan, was attended with great mental sufferings, with painstaking labour, with a simple reliance upon the Word of God, and i with earnest prayer. If man impiously dares to submit his conscience to his fellow-man, or to any body of men called a church, what perplexity must j he experience ere he can make up his mind which to choose ! Instead of relying upon the one [ standard which God has given him in his Word; should he build his hope upon a human system he could be certain only that man is fallible and subject to err. How striking an instance have we, in our day, of the result cf education, whan the mind does not implicitly follow the guidance of the revealed Word of God. Two brothers, named Newman, educated at the same school, trained in the same university, brought up under ! the same religious system — all human arts ex- hausted to mould their minds into strict unifor- mity, yet gradually receding from the same point in opposite directions, but in equally downward roads; one to embrace the most puerile legends I of the middle ages, the other to open infidelity. Not so with those who follow the teachings of tho Word of God, by which, and not by any church, they are to be individually judged at the great day : no pontiff, no priest, no minister, can in- tervene or mediate for them at the bar of God. There it will be said, 'I know you, by your prayers for Divine guidance and your sub . to my revealed will ;' or, ' I know you not, for you preferred the guidance of frail, fallible men, to me, and to my Word — a solemn con- sideration, which, as it proved a source oi solid happiness and extensive usefulness to Bunyan in his pilgrimage, so it insured to him, as it will to MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. all who follow his course, a solid foundation on which to stand at the great and terrible day, and thus enable them to live as well as die in the sure and certain hope of a triumphant entry into the celestial city. THE THIRD PERIOD. BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD IS SET APART TO FILL THE DEACON'S OFFICE, AND SENT OUT AS AN ITINERANT PREACHER IN THE NEIGHBOURING VILLAGES. Man is naturally led to seek the society of his fellow-men. His personal progress, and the great interests of civilization, depend upon the nature of his friendly intercourse and his proper associations. So is it with the Christian, but in a much higher degree. Not only does he require companions with whom he can enjoy Christian communion — of sufferings and of pleasures — in seasons of depress- ing trials, and in holy elevations — but with whom he may also form plans to spread the genial influ- ence of Christianity, which has blessed and so boundlessly enriched his own soul. Christian fellowship and communion has received the broad seal of heaven. 'The Lord hearkened,' when they that feared him spake often to one another, 1 and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord,' Mai. Sii 16. Bunyan possessed a soul with faculties capable of the highest enjoyment of the communion of saints in church order. His ideas of mutual for- bearance— that ' in lowliness of mind should each esteem others better than themselves ' — he enforces with very peculiar power, and, at the same time, with delicate sensibility. After the pilgrims had been washed by Innocence in the Interpreter's bath, he sealed them, which 'greatly added to their beauty,' and then arrayed them in white raiment of fine linen ; and ' when the women were thus adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other, for that they could not see that glory each one on herself which they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they began to esteem each other better than themselves.'1 ' The Interpreter led them into his garden, where was great variety of flowers. Then said he, Behold, the flowers are divers in stature, in quality and colour, and smell and virtue, and some are better than some ; also, where the gardener hath set them, there they stand, and quarrel not with one another.'2 'When Christians stand every one in their places, and do their relative work, then they are like the flowers in the garden that grow where the gardener hath planted them, and both honour the gardener and the garden in which they are planted.'3 In the Vol. iii., p. 190. - Vol. iii., p. 186. Bunyan on Christian Behaviour, vol. ii.; p. 550. same treatise on Christian Behaviour, similar sentiments are expressed in language extremely striking and beautiful. ' The doctrine of the gospel is like the dew and the small rain that distilleth upon the tender grass, wherewith it doth flourish and is kept green. Deut. xxxii. 2. Christians are like the several flowers in a garden that have upon each of them the dew of heaven, which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall their dew at each other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of one another. For Christians to commune savourly of God's matters one with another, it is as if they opened to each other's nostrils boxes of perfume.'4 Similar peaceful, heavenly principles, flow through Bun- yan's Discourse of the Building, &c., of Hie House of God and its inmates ;5 and blessed would it be if in all our churches every believer was baptized into such motives of forbearance and brotherly love. These sentiments do honour to the head and heart of the prince of allegorists, and should be pre- sented in letters of gold to every candidate for church fellowship. A young man entertaining such opinions as these, however rude his former conduct, being born again to spiritual enjoyments, would become a treasure to the Christian society with which he might be connected. In ordinary cases, the minister or people who have been useful to a young convert, lead him in his first choice of Christian associates ; but here we have no ordinary man. Bunyan, in all things pertaining to religion, followed no human autho- rity, but submitted himself to the guidance of the inspired volume. Possessing a humble hope of salvation, he would read with deep interest that ' the Lord added to the church such as should be saved.' The question which has so much puzzled the learned, as to a church or the church, would be solved without difficulty by one who was as learned in the Scriptures as he was ignorant of the subtle distinctions and niceties of the schools. He found that there was one church at Jerusalem (Acts viii. i), another at Corinth d Cor. i. 2), seven in Asia (Rev. i. 4), and others distributed over the world; that ' the visible church of Christ is a (or every) congregation of faithful men. ,fi He well knew that uniformity is a fool's paradise ; that though man was made in the image of God, it derogates not from the beauty of that image that no two men are alike. The stars show forth God's handy work, yet ' one star differeth from another star iu glory ' d Cor. xv. 41). Uniformity is opposed to every law of nature, for no two leaves upon a majestic tree are alike. Who but au idiot or a maniac would attempt to reduce the mental powers of all men to uniformity ? Every church may have its i Vol. ii., p. 570. 5 Vol. ii., p. 555. c The Nineteenth Article. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. own order of public worship wliilo the Scriptures form the standard of truth and morals. Where dif- ferences of opinion occur, as they most certainly will, as to the observance of days or abstinence from meats — whether to stand, or sit, or kneel, in prayer — whether to stand while listening to some pages of the inspired volume, and to sit while others are publicly read — whether to call Jude a saint, and refuse the title to Isaiah — are questions which should bring into active exercise all the graces of Christian charity; and, in obedience to the apostolic injunction, they must agree to differ. * Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind ' (Rom. \iv. 5). Human arts have been ex- hausted to prevent that mental exercise or self- persuasion which is essential to a Christian pro- fession. The great object of Satan has ever been to foster indifference, that deadly lethargy, by loading man to any source of information rather than prayerful researches into the Bible. Bun- van's severe discipline in Christ's school would lead him to form a judgment for himself ; he was surrounded by a host of sects, and, with such a Bible-loving man, it is an interesting inquiry what party he would join. lie lived in times of extraordinary excitement. England was in a transition state. A long chain of events brought on a crisis which involved the kingdom in tribulation. It was the struggle be- tween the unbridled despotism of Episcopacy, and the sturdy liberty of Puritanism. For although the immediate cause of the civil wars was gross misgovernment — arbitrary taxation without the intervention of Parliament, monopolies and patents, to the ruin of trade; in fact, every abuse of the royal power — still, without the additional spur of reli- gious persecution, the spirit of the people would never have proved invincible and overpowering. The efforts of Archbishop Laud, aided by the queen and her popish confessor, Panzani, to sub- jugate Britain to the galling yoke of R.ome, sig- nally failed, involving in the ruin the life of the king and his archbishop, and all the desolating calamities of intestiue wars, strangely called 'civil.' In this strife many of the clergy and most of the bishops took a very active part, aiding and abet- ting the king's party in their war against the parliament — and they thus brought upon them- selves great pains and penalties. The people became suddenly released from mental bondage ; aud if the man who had been born blind, when he first received the blessing of sight, ' saw men as trees walking,' we cannot be surmised that religious speculations were indulged in, some of which proved to be crude and wild, requiring much vigorous persuasive pruning before they produced good fruit. Bunyan was surrounded by all these parties; for although the rights of conscience VOL. III. were not recognized — the Papists and Episcopa- lians, the Baptists and Unitarians, with the Jews, being proscribed — yet the hand of persecution was comparatively light. Had Bunyan chosen to as- sociate with the Episcopalians, he would not have passed through those severe sufferings on which are founded his lasting honours. The Presbyterians and Independents received the patronage of the state under the Commonwealth, and the great mass of the clergy conformed to the directory, many of them reciting the prayers they had formerly read ; while a considerable number, whose conscience could not submit to the system then enforced by law, did, to their honour, resign their livings, and suffer the privations and odium of being Dissenters. Among these were necessarily included the bishops.1 Of all sects that of the Baptists had been the most bitterly written against and persecuted. Even their first cousins, the Quakers, attacked them in language that would, in our peaceful days, be considered outrageous. ' The Baptists used to meet in garrets, cheese-lofts, coal-holes, and such like mice walks, ' — ' these tumultuous, blood-thirsty, covenant-breaking, government-destroying Ana- baptists.'2 The offence that called forth these epithets was, that in addressing Charles II. on his restoration, they stated that "they were no abet- tors of the Quakers." Had royal authority pos- sessed the slightest influence over Buuyan's reli- gious opinions, the question as to his joining the Baptists would have been settled without inves- tigation. Among other infatuations of Charles I., had been his hatred of any sect that professed the right and duty of man to think for himself in choosing his way to heaven. In 1G39 he pub- lished his ' Declaration concerning the tumults in Scotland,' when violence was resorted to against the introduction of the Common Prayer in which he denounced voluntary obedience because it was not of constraint, and called it 'damnable;' he calls the principles of the Anabaptists, in not sub- mitting their consciences to human laws, ' furious frenzies,' and ' madness ;' all Protestants are ' to detest and persecute them ;' ' these Anabaptists raged most in their madness;' 'the scandal] of their frenzies;' ' we are amazed at, aud aggrieved at their horrible impudeuce ;' ' we do abhor and detest 1 The sufferings of the Episcopalians were severe ; they drank the bitter cup which they had shortly before adiu. to the Puritans. Under suspicion of disloyalty to the Col wealth, they were most unjustly compelled to swallow the Covenant as a religious test, or leave preaching and t Their miseries were not to be compared with those of the Puritans. Laud was beheaded for treason, but nunc were pot to death for nonconformity. It was an age when i liberty was almost unknown. These sufferings were repaid by an awful retaliation and revenge, when Royalty and Episco- pacy were restored. - Penn's Christian Quaker, d MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. them all as rebellious and treasonable.'1 This whole volume is amusingly assuming. The king claims his subjects as personal chattels, with whose bodies and minds he had a right to do as lie pleased. Bunyan owed no spiritual submission to man, ' whose breath is in his nostrils ;' and risking all hazards, he became one of the denounced and despised sect of Baptists. To use the language of his pilgrim, he passed the lions, braving all the dangers of an open profession of faith in Christ, and entered the house called Beautiful, which 'was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to enter- tain such pilgrims in.'2 He first gains permission of the watchman, or minister, and then of the in- mates, or church members. This interesting event is said to have taken place about the year 1653.° Mr. Doe, in lite Straggler, thus refers to it, Bunyan ' took all advantages to ripen his understanding in religion, and po he lit on the dissenting congrega- tion of Christians at Bedford, and was, upon con- fession of faith, baptized about the year 1G53,'1 when he was in the twenty-fifth year of his age. No minutes of the proceedings of this church, prior to the death of Mr. GifFord in 1656,5 are extant, or they would identify the exact period when Bunyan's baptism and admission to the church took place. The spot where he was baptized is a creek by the river Ouse, at the end of Duck Mill Lane. It is a natural baptistery, a proper width and depth of water constantly fresh ; pleasantly situated ; sheltered from the public highway near the High Street. The Lord's Supper was cele- brated in a large room in which the disciples met, the worship consecrating the place.0 Religious feelings and conduct have at all times a tendency to promote the comfort, and elevate the character of the poor. How often have we seen them thus blessed ; the ragged family comfort- ably clothed, the hungry fed, and the inmates of a dirty miserable cottage or hovel become a pat- tern of cleanly happiness. One of Bunyan's bio- graphers, who was an eye-witness, bears this testimony. ' By this time his family was increased, and as that increased God increased his stores, so that lie lived now in great credit among his neigh- bours.' He soon became a respectable member 1 Folio, p. 417. 2 Vol. iii., p. 107. 3 Vol. iii., p. 705. The author of Btmyans Life, published ia 1690, dates his baptism 'about the year 1653.' * life from his Cradle to his Grave, 1700. 6 September 21. 6 'In the same year, and about the same period, Oliver Cromwell was made Lord Proteetor. Upon this coincidence, Mr. Carlisle uses the following remarkable language: — 'Two common men thus elevated, putting their hats upon their heads, might exclaim, " God enable me to be king of what lies under this ! For eternities lie under it, and infinities, ami heaven also and hell ! and it is as big as the uuivcrse, this kingdom ; and I am to conquer it, or be for ever conquered by it. Now, while it is called to-day ! ' " of civil as well as religious society ; for, by the time that he joined the church, his Christian character was so fully established, that, notwith- standing the meanness of his origin and employ- ment, he was considered Avorthy of uniting in a memorial to the Lord Protector. It was to recom- mend two gentlemen to form part of the council, after Cromwell had dissolved the Long Parliament. It is a curious document, very little known, and Illustrative of the peculiar style of these eventful times. Letter from the people of Bedfordshire to the Lord General! Cromwell, and the Councell of the army. May Uth, 1G53. May it please your Lordship, and the rest of the councill of the army. We (we trust) servants of Jesus Christ, inhabitants in the county of Bedford, haveiug fresh upon our hearts the sadde oppressions we have (a longe while) groan'd under from the late parlyament, and now eyeing and owneing (through grace) the good hand of God in this great turne of providence, being persuaded that it is from the Lord that you should be instru- ment in his hand at such a time as this, for the electing of such persons whoe may goe in and out before his people in righteousnesse, and governe these nations in judgment, we haveing sought the Lord for yow, and hopeing that God will still doe greate tilings by yow, understanding that it is in your hearte through the Lord's assistance, to establish an authority consisting of men able, loveing truth, feareing God, and hateing covetousness ; and we haveing had some experience of men with us, we have judged it our duty to God, to yow, and to the rest of his people, humbly to preseut two men, viz., Nathauiell Taylor, and John Croke, now Justices of Peace in our County, whom we judge in the Lord qualified to manage a trust in the ensuing government. All which we humbly referre to your serious considerations, and subscribe our names this 13th day of May, 1653— John Eston, Clement Berridge, Isaac Freeman, John Grewc, John Bunyan, William Dell, John Gilford, William Baker, junr.,William Wheelar, Ja. Rush, Anth. Harrington, John Gibbs, Tho. Varrse, Eichard Spensley, John Donne, Michael Cooke, Edward Covinson, Tho. Gibbs, John Ramsay, John Hogge, Edward White, Robert English, John Jelfard, John Browne, John Edridge, John Ivory, John White, George Gee, Daniell Groom c, Charles Peirse, Ambrose Gregory, Luke Parratt, Thomas Cooke, William Page,' " Thomas Knott, Thomas Honnor. These to the Lord Gencrall Cromwell, and the rest of the councell of the army, present.7 Bunyan's daughter Elizabeth was born at El- stow, April 14, 1654, and a singular proof of his having changed his principles on baptism appears in the church register. His daughter Mary was baptized in 1650, but his Elizabeth in 1654 is registered as born, but no mention is made of baptism. The poor harassed pilgrim having been ad- mitted into communion with a Christian church, enjoyed fully, for a short season, his new privi- leges. He thus expresses his feelings : — ' After 7 In possession of the Society of Antiquaries. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYA.N. I had propounded to the church that my desire was to walk in the order and ordinances of Christ with them, and was also admitted by them: while I thought of that hlcsscd ordinance of Christ, which was his last supper with his disciples before his death, that scripture, "This do in re- membrance of me," was made a very precious word unto me; for by it the Lord came down open my conscience with the discovery of his death for my sins : and as I then felt, did as if he plunged me in the virtue of the same.'1 In this language wo have an expression which furnishes a c-ood sample of his energetic fe< He had been immersed in water at his baptism, and doubtless believed it to be a figure of his death to sin and resurrection to holiness ; and when he Bat at the Lord's table he felt that he was baptized into the virtue of his Lord's death ; he is \ into it, and feels the holy influence covering his soul with all its powers. IT is pastor, John Grfrbrd, was a remarkably and sensible man, exactly fitted to assist in maturing the mind of his young member. Bun- van had, for a considerable time, sat under his ministry, and had cultivated acquaintance with the members of his church ; aud so prayerfully had he made up his mind as to this important choice of a b, with which he might enter into fellowship, that, although tempted by the most alluring pro- spects of greater usefulness, popularity, and emo- lument, he continued his church fellowship with these poor people through persecution and dis- inprisonment and the threats of transporta- tion, or an ignominious death, until he crossed the river 'which has no bridge,' and ascended to the celestial city, a period of nearly forty years. Of the labours of his first pastor, John Gitford, but little is known, except that he founded the church of Christ at Bedford, probably the first, in modern times, which allowed to every individual freedom of judgment as to water baptism ; re- ceiving all those who decidedly appeared to have put on Christ, and had been received by him ; but avoiding, with godly jealousy, any mixture of the world with the church. Mr. Gilford's race was short, consistent, and successful. Bimyan calls him by an appellation, very probably common in his neighbourhood and among his flock, ' holy Mr. Gilford ;'2 a title infinitely superior to all the honours of nobility, or of royalty. He was a miracle of mercy and grace, for a very few years before he had borne the character of an impure and licentious man — an open enemy to the saints of God. His pastoral letter, left upon record in the church-book, written when drawing near the end of his pilgrimage, is most admirable ; it eon- 1 Vol. J., p. 30. - \M. ;., p. 20. tains an allusion to his successors, Burton or Banyan, and must have had a tendency in forming their views of a gospel church. Even Mr. So praises this puritanic epistle as exemplifying ' a wise and tolerant and truly Christian spirit:' and as it has not been published m any life of Bun- van, 1 venture to introduce it without abridge- ment:— To the Church over which God made rac an overseer when I was iu the world. I beseech you, brethren beloved, let these fallowing words (wrote in my love to you, and core avar yon, when our b Father was removing me to the kingdom of his dear Son), be read in your church-gatherings together. I shall not now, dearly beloved, write unto you about that which is the first, and with- in all other things arc as nothing in the sight of God, via,, the keeping the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience; 1 shall not, I say, write of these things, though the having spent my labours among you, to root you and build you up in Christ through the grace you have received ; and to press you to all manner of holiness in your conversations, that you may be found of the Lord, without spot, and bla::. His coining. But the things I shall speak to you of, are about your chl'hcii affaiks, which I fear have been little con by most of you; which things, if not mended aright, and sub- mitted unto, according to the will of God, will by degrees bring you under divisions, distractions, and at last, to confusion of that gospel order and fellowship which now, through grace, you enjoy. Therefore, my brethren, in the first place, I would not have any of yon ignorant of this, that every one of you are as much bound now to walk with the church in all love ; and iu the ordinances of Jesus Christ our Lord, as when I was present among you: neither have any of you liberty to join your- selves to any other society, because your pastor is removed from you ; for you were not joined to the ministry, but to Christ, and the church ; and this is and was the will of God in Christ to all the churches of the saints, read Acts ii. 42 ; and compare it with Acts i. 11, 15. And I charge you before the Lord, as you will answer it at the coining of our Lord Jesus, that none of you be found guilty herein. Secondly. Be constant in your church assemblies. Let all the work which concerns the church be done faithfully among you ; as admission of members, exercising of gi Its, election of officers, as need requires, aud all other things as if named, which the Scriptures being searched, will lead you into, through the Spirit; which things, if you do, the Lord will be with you, aud. you will convince others that Christ is your head, aud your dependency is not upon man ; but if you do the work of the Lord negligently, if you mind your own and not the things of Christ, if you grow of indifferent spirits, whether you mind the work of the Lord iu his church ] fear the Lord by degrees will suffer the comfort of your com- munion to be dried up, and the candlestick which is yet stand- ing to be broken in pieces ; which God forbid. Now, concerning your admission of members, I shall leave you to the Lord for counsel, who hath hitherto been with you ; only thus much I think expedient to stir up your remembrance in ; that after you are satisued in the work of grace in the party you are to join with, the said party do solemnly declare (before some of the church at least), That Union with Christ is the foun- dation of all saints' communion; and not any ordinances of Christ, or any judgment or opinion about externals ; and the said party ought to declare, whether a brother or sister, that through grace they will walk in love with the church, though there should hap- pen any di (Terence in judgment about other things. Concerning MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. separation from the church about baptism, laying on of hands, anointing with oil, psalms, or any externals, I charge every one of you respectively, as you will give an account for it to our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge both quick and dead at his coming, that none of you be found guilty of this great evil ; which, while some have committed, and that through a zeal for God, yet not according to knowledge, they have erred from the law of the love of Christ, and have made a rent from the true church, which is but one. I exhort you, brethren, in your comings together, Let all things be done decently, and in order, according to the Scriptures. Let all things be done among you without strife and envy, without self-seeking and vain-glory. Be clothed with humility, and submit to one an- other in love. Let the gifts of the church be exercised accord- ing to order. Let no gift be concealed which is for edification; yet let those gifts be chiefly exercised which are most for the perfecting of the saints. Let your discourses be to build up one another in your most holy faith, and to provoke one another to love and good works : if this be not well-minded, much time may be spent and the church reap little or no advantage. Let there be strong meat for the strong, aud milk for babes. In your assemblies avoid all disputes which gender to strifes, as questions about externals, and all doubtful disputations. If any come among you who will be contentious in these things, let it be declared that you have no such order, nor any of the churches of God. If any come among you with any doctrine contrary to the doctrine of Christ, you must not treat with such an one as with a brother, or enter iuto dispute of the things of faith with reasonings (for this is contrary to the Scriptures) ; but let such of the brethren who are the fullest of the Spirit, and the word of Christ, oppose such an one steadfastly face to face, aud lay open his fully to the church, from the Scriptures. If a brother through weakness speak anything contrary to any known truth of God (though not intended by him), some other brother of the church must in love clear up the truth, lest many of the church be laid under temptation. Let no respect of persons be in your com- ings-together ; when you are met as a church there's neither rich nor poor, bond nor free in Christ Jesus. Tis not a good practice to be oil'ering places or seats when those who are rich come in ; especially it is a great evil to take notice of such in time of prayer, or the word; then are bowings aud civil observances at such times not of God. Private wrongs are not presently to be brought unto the church. If any of the brethren are troubled about externals, let some of the church (let it not be a church business) pray for and with such parties. None ought to withdraw from the church if any brother should walk disorderly, but he that walkcth disorderly must bear his own burden, according to the Scriptures. If any brother should walk disorderly, he cannot be shut out from any ordi- nance before church censure. Study among yourselves what is the nature of fellowship, as the word, > prayer, and breaking of bread ; which, whilst few, I judge, seriously consider, there is much falling short of duty in the churches of Christ. You that are most eminent in profession, set a pattern to all the rest of the church. Let your faith, love, and zeal, be very eminent ; if any of you cast a dim light, you will do much hurt in the church. Let there be kept up among you solemn days of prayer and thanksgiving ; and let some time be set apart, to seek God for your seeds, which thing hath hitherto been omitted. Let your deacons have a constant stock by them, to supply the necessity of those who are iu want. Truly, brethren, there is utterly a fault among you that are rich, especially in this thing, 'tis not that little which comes from 1 Heading and Prcachi you on the first day of the week that will excuse you. I beseech you, be not found guilty of this sin any longer. He that sows sparingly will reap sparingly. Be not backward in your gatherings-together; let none of you willingly stay till part of the meeting be come,2 especially such who should be examples to the flock. One or two things are omitted about your comings-together, which I shall here add. I beseech you, forbear sitting in prayer, except parties be any way dis- abled; 'tis not a posture which suits with the majesty of such an ordinance. Would you serve your prince so ? In prayer, let all self-affected expressions be avoided, and all vain repe- titions. God hath not gifted, I judge, every brother to be a mouth to the church. Let such as have most of the demon- stration of the Spirit and of power, shut up all your comings- together, that ye may go away with your hearts comforted and quickened. Come together in time, and leave off orderly ; for God is a God of order among his saints. Let none of you give offence to his brethren in indifferent things, but be subject to one another in love. Be very careful what gifts you approve of by consent for public service. Spend much time before the Lord, about choosing a pastor, for though I suppose he is before you,3 whom the Lord hath appointed, yet it will be no disadvantage to you, I hope, if yon walk a year or two as you are before election ; and then, if you be all agreed, let him be set apart, according to the Scriptures. Salute the brethren who walk not in fellowship with you, with the same love and name of brother or sister as those who do. Let the promises made to be accomplished in the latter days, be often urged before the Lord in your comings-together; and forget not your brethren in bouds. Love him much for the work's sake, who labours over you in the word and doc- trine. Let no man despise his youth.4 Muzzle not the mouth of the ox that treads out the corn to you. Search the Scrip- tures ; let some of them be read to you about this thing. If your teacher at anytime be laid aside, you ought to meet together as a church, and build up one another. If the mem- bers at such a time will go to a public ministry, it must first be approved of by the church. Farewell; exhort, counsel, support, reprove one another in love. Finally, brethren, be all of one mind, walk in love one to another, even as Christ Jesus hath loved you, and given him- self for you. Search the Scriptures for a supply of those things wherein I am wanting. Now the God of peace, who raised up our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead, multiply his peace upon you, and preserve you to his everlasting kingdom by Jesus Christ. Stand fast : the Lord is at hand. That this was written by me, I have set my name to it, in the presence of two of the brethren of the church. Bunyan was now settled under the happiest cir- cumstances, and doubtless looked forward to much religious enjoyment. A pious wife — peace in his - Not to wait for one another, each one to come in good time. 3 Alluding to Bunyan, or his co-pastor, Burton, or to both of them. 4 Bunyan was about twenty-seven years of age. 6 This letter was copied into the church records at the time: the original cannot be found. It was published with Ryland's Funeral Sermon on Symonds, 17SS, and in Jukes' very inte- resting account of Bunyan's church, in 1849. The signature is copied from an original in the Milton, Slate Papers, library of the Antiquarian Society. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. coul — a most excellent pastor, and in full commu- nion with a Christian church. Alas ! his enjoy- ments were soon interrupted ; again a tempest was to agitate his mind, that he might he more deeply humbled and prepared to become a Barnabas or son of consolation to tbc spiritually distressed. It is a remarkable fact, that upon the baptism of our Lord, after that sublime declaration of Je- hovah— 'this is my beloved Son,' 'Jesus was led into the wilderness, to be tempted of the devil.' As it was with their leader, so it frequently happens to his followers. After having partaken, for tho first time, of the holy enjoyments of the Lord's table — tending to exalt and elevate them, they are often abased and humbled in their own esteem, by the assaults of Satan and his temptations, aided by an evil heart of unbelief. Thus Christian having been cherished in the house called Beautiful, and armed for the conflict, descended into the Valley of Humiliation, encountered Apollyon in deadly com- bat, and walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. ' For three quarters of a year, fierce and sad temptations did beset me to blasphemy, that I could never have rest nor ease. But at last the Lord came in upon my soul with that same scripture, by which my soul was visited be- fore ; and after that, I have been usually very well and comfortable in the partaking of that blessed ordinance ; and have, I trust, therein discerned the Lord's body, as broken for my sins, and that his precious blood hath been shed for my transgres- sions. n This is what Bunyan calls, ' the soul killing to itself its sins, its righteousness, wisdom, resolu- tions, and the things which it trusted in by nature;' and then receiving 'a most glorious, perfect, and never-fading life.' The life of Christ in all its purity and perfections imputed to me — ' Sometimes I bless the Lord my soul hath had this life not only imputed to me, but the very glory of it upon my soul — the Son of God himself in his own per- son, now at the right hand of his Father repre- senting me complete before the mercy-seat in his ownself.' 'There was my righteousuess just before the eyes of Divine glory.'2 About this period his robust hardy frame gave way under the attack of disease, and we have to witness his feelings when the king of terrors ap- peared to be beginning his deadly work. Whether the fiery trials, the mental tempest through which he had passed, were too severe for his bodily frame, is not recorded. His narrative is, that, ' Upon a time I was somewhat inclining to a consumption, wherewith, about the spring I was suddenly and violently seized, with much weakness in my outward man ; insomuch that I thought I could not live.'3 1 Vol. i., p. 39. "- Vol. i., p. 515. 3 Grace Abounding, No. 255, vol. i., p. 39. This is slightly varied in his account of this illness in his Law and Grace. He there says, « hav- ing contracted guilt upon my soul, and having some distemper of body upon me, I supposed that death might now so seize upon, as to take me away from among men.4 These serious considerations led to a solemn investigation of his hopes. His having been baptized, his union to a church, the good opinion of his fellow-men, arc not in the slight- est degree relied upon as evidences of the new birth, or of a death to sin and resurrection to holi- ness.' 'Now began I afresh to give myself up to a serious examination after my state and condi- tion for the future, and of my evidences for that blessed world to come: for it hath, I bless the name of God, been my usual course, as always, so especially in the day of affliction, to endeavour to keep my interest in the life to come, clear before my eye. ' But I had no sooner began to recall to mind my former experience of the goodness of God to my soul, but there came flocking into my mind an in- numerable company of my sins and transgressions: amongst which these were at this time most to my affliction, namely, my deadness, dulncss, and cold- ness in holy duties ; my wanderings of heart, my wearisomeness in all good things, my want of love to God, his ways and people, with this at the end of all, "Are these the fruits of Christianity? Are these the tokens of a blessed man ?" 'At the apprehension of these things my sickness was doubled upon me, for now was I sick in my inward man, my soul was clogged with guilt; now also was my former experience of God's goodness to me quite taken out of my mind, and hid as if it had never been, nor seen. Now was my soul greatly pinched between these two considerations, " Live I must not, die I dare not." Now I sunk and fell in my spirit, and was giving up all for lost ; but as I was walking up and down in my house, as a man in a most woeful state, that word of God took hold of my heart, Ye are "justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ" (Rom. iii. 24). But 0! what a turn it made upon me ! 'Now was I as one awakened out of some trouble- some, sleep and dream ; and listening to this heavenly sentence, I was as if I had heard it thus expounded to me: — "Sinner, thou thinkest, that because of thy sins and infirmities, I cannot save thy soul ; but behold my Son is by me, and upon him I look, and not on thee, and will deal with thee according as I am pleased with him." At this I was greatly lightened in my mind, and made to understand, that God could justify a sinner at any time ; it was but his looking upon Christ, and ' Vol i., p. 515. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. imputing of his benefits to us, and the work was forthwith done.' * 'Now was I got on high, I saw myself within the arms of grace and mercy ; and though I was before afraid to think of a dying hour, yet now I cried, Let me die. Now death was lovely and beautiful in my sight, for I saw that we shall never live indeed, till we be gone to the other world. I saw more in those words, "Heirs of God" (Ro.viii. 17). than ever I shall be able to express. " Heirs of God," God himself is the portion of his saints.'2 As his mental agitation subsided into this deli- cious calm, his bodily health was restored ; to use his own figure, Captain Consumption, with all his men of death, were 3 routed, and his strong bodily health triumphed over disease; or, to use the more proper language of an eminent Puritan, * When overwhelmed with the deepest sorrows, and that for many doleful months, he who is Lord of nature healed my body, and he who is the Father of mercies and God of all grace has proclaimed liberty to the captive, and given rest to my weary soul.'4 Here we have a key to the most eventful picture in the Pilgrim's Progress — The Valley of the Shadow of Death — which is placed in the midst of the journey. When in the prime of life, death looked at him and withdrew for a season. It was the shadoio of death that came over his spirit. The church at Bedford having increased, Bun- yan was chosen to fill the honourable office of a deacon. No man could have been better fitted for that office than Bunyan was. He was honesty itself, had suffered severe privations, so as to feel for those who were pinched with want; he had great powers of discrimination, to distinguish be- tween the poverty of idleness, and that distress which arises from circumstances over which human foresight has no control, so as to relieve with pro- priety the pressure of want, without encouraging the degrading and debasing habit of depending upon alms, instead of labouring to provide the necessaries of life. He had no fine clothes to be spoiled by trudging down the filthiest lanes, and entering the meanest hovels to relieve suffer- ing humanity. The pour — and that is the great class to whom the gospel is preached, and by whom it is received — would hail him as a brother. Gifted in prayer, full of sound and wholesome counsel drawn from holy writ, he must have been a pecu- liar blessing to the distressed, and to all the mem- bers who stood in need of advice and assistance. Such were the men intended by the apostles, • men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wis- dom ' (Ac. vi. 3), whom the church were to select, to relieve the apostles from the duties of ministration 1 Grace Abounding, No. 235-2o9, vol. i., p. 39. 8 Vol. i., p. 40. 3 Vol. iii., p. 655. 4 Rogers on Trouble of Mind. to the wants of the afflicted members, in the dis- charge of which they had given offence. While thus actively employed, he was again visited with a severe illness, and again was sub- ject to a most searching and solemn investigation as to his fitness to appear before the judgment- scat of God. ' All that time the tempter did beset me strongly, labouring to hide from me my former experience of God's goodness ; setting before me the terrors of death, and the judgment of God, insomuch that at this time, through rny fear of miscarrying for ever, should I now die, I was as one dead before death came ; I thought that there was no way but to hell I must.'5 'A wounded spirit who can bear.' Well might the apostle say, ' If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable ' d Co. xv. 19). Bunyan had enjoyed holy emotions full of glory, and now the devil was threatening him, not only with the loss of heaven, but the terrors of hell. The Puritan, Rogers, describes religious melancholy as ' the worst of all distem- pers, and those sinking and guilty fears which it brings along with it are inexpressibly dreadful ; what anguish, what desolation ! I dare not look to heaven ; there I see the greatness of God, who is against me. I dare not look into his Word ; for there I see all his threats, as so many barbed arrows to strike me to the heart. I dare not look into the grave ; because thence I am like to have a doleful resurrection ; in this doleful night the soul hath no evidence at all of its former grace.'0 Bunyan's experience reminds us of the impressive language of Job — a book full of power- ful imagery and magnificent ideas, in which Bun- yan delighted, calling it 'that blessed book.'7 Job goes on, from step to step, describing his mental wretchedness, until he rises to a climax, God 'runneth upon me like a giant' (ivi. 7— 2B). 'Thou huntest me as a fierce lion' (x. is). 'The arrows of the Almighty are within me; they drink up my spirit: the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me' (vi. 4). Poor Bunyan, in the depth of his distress, cried unto God, and was heard and relieved from these soul troubles. He recollected the joyful ascent of Lazarus from the extreme of human misery to the height of celestial enjoyments. His spirit was sweetly revived, and he was enabled, with delight, to hope yet in God, when that word fell with great weight upon his mind, '0 death, where is thy sting? 0 grave, where is thy victory?' 'At this he became both well in body and mind at once ; his sickness did presently vanish, and he again walked comfortably in his work for God.'s The words, ' hv grace are 5 Grace Abounding, No. 2G0. 7 Vol. ii., p. 425. 6 1st edition, p. Zl 8 Vol i, p. 41). MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAX. ye saved,' followed him through the rest of his pilgrimage. His consolation was, that ' a little true grace will go a great way; yea, and do more ira than we are aware of. If we have hut grace enough to keep us groaning after God, it is not all the world that can destroy us.' 1 lie had new hecomo deeply instructed in the Bchool of Christ, and was richly furnished with the weapons of spiritual warfare; ' a scrihe instructed into the king- dom of heaven, like unto a man that is an house- holder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure tilings new and old' (Mat. xiii. IS). Or, as • the man of God, perfected, thoroughly furnished unto all good works ' (j Tim. iii. it). It was powerfully impressed upon his mind that all his inward conflicts were to lie made use of in preparing him to instruct others. All the events of his Saviour's life passed before his mind as if he had stood by as a witness to his birth — his walking with his disciples; his wondrous parables and stupendous miracles; his mental and bodily sufferings ; his sacrifice, burial, ascension, intercession, and final judgment; all passed in vivid - before the eye of his mind; and then, he says, ' as I was musing with myself what these should mean, methought I heard such a word in my heart as this, * I have set thee down on •, for I have something more than ordinary for thee to do;' which made me the more to marvel, saying, ' What, my Lord, such a poor wretch as IV2 Such was his inward call to the ministry; and it being attended with the three requisites usually insisted on among Dissenters — ability, inclination, and opportunity — he was sent out as an itinerant preacher in the surrounding villages in 1655, and laid the foundation of many churches, which now flourish to the praise of the glory of Divine grace. In some of these villages the gospel had never before been preached ; they were strongholds of Satan. These were fit places for the full display of Lis intrepid energy. After thus preaching and much suffering, for fifteen years, he was appointed to the pastoral office, or eldership.3 Can a man enter upon the work of the ministry from a better school than this ? Deeply versed in scriptural knowledge; thoroughly humbled by the assaults of sin and Satan ; aware of his devices ; with a keen perception of the value of the soul; its greatness; and, if lost, the causes and the unspeakable extent of its loss. Solemnly devout and fluent in prayer; ready in conversation upon heavenly things; speaking the truth without fear of consequences, yet avoiding unnecessary offence; first speaking iu the church-meeting, and then more extensively in barns, or woods, or dells, to avoid the informers.4 Such was his training; 1 Vol. i., p. 769. - Vol. i., p. 549. s Church Book, 1671. 4 This secrecy became needful after the Restoration, as noticed more fully afterwards, p. lis. During those years of persecu- and the result was, that, when permitted to pro- claim the gospel publicly, thousands hung upon his words with intense feeling; numerous converts were by his means added to the church; the proud (ion, a frequent place of resort was a dell in Wain-wood, about three miles from llitchiu. Of this locality the following notice will be acceptable: — Un the l'Jth of May, 1853, a splendidly to the shrines of Bnuyan was i at 1 1 it cli in and its vicinity, in company with S. T5. Gcard, E?q. Here it was my honOBX to shake hands with honest Edward Foster, whose grandfather often entertained and sheltered John Banyan. So angular a case 1 had never met with, that three i I line, evidence of transactions n Inch ocenrred at a distance of 190 years. 1 1 i - grandfather was born in 1642, and for many years was a friend and Don of the illustrious dreamer. Iu 1700, when lie was sixty-four years of I gest son was born, and in 1777, when that son was seventy-one years of age, his youngest son was born, and iu 1853 he has the pei l'< cL use of limbs and faculties, and properly executes the important office of assistant tohis extensive parish. With such direct testimony, we visiti A romantic delL where, in the still hours of midnight, the saiuts of God were wout to meet and unite in Divine wor- ship. It is a most romantic deli, iu Wain-wood, which crowns a. lull about three miles from llitchin. We had some dilliculty in making our way through the underwood — crushing the beau- tiful hyacinths and primroses which covered the ground iu the richest profusion, and near the top t»f the hill cuuie suddenly upon this singular dell — a natural little eminence formed the pulpit, while the dell would hold under its shade at least a thousand people — and now I must give you the countryman's eloqucnt description of the meetings of his ancestors. " Here, under the canopy of heaven, « ith the rigour of winter's nipping frost, while the clouds, obscuring the moon, have discharged their flaky treasures, they often assembled while the highly- gifted and heavenly-minded Bunyan has broken to them the bread of life. The word of the Lord was precious iu those days. And here over his devoted head, while uncovered in prayer, the pious matrons warded oil' the driving hail aud snow, by holding a shawl over him by its four corners. Iu this devoted dell these plain unpolished husbandmen, like the aucieut YValdcnses, in the valleys of Piedmont, proved them- selves firm defenders of the faith in its primitive purity, and of Divine worship in its primitive style." Their horses on which they rode, from various parts, were sheltered iu neighbouring friendly farms, while they, to avoid suspicion, ascended the hill by scarcely visible footpaths. Could line weather be insured, it would form a lovely spot for a melt- ing to celebrate the third jubilee of religious toleration — there listen to a Bunyan of our age, aud device measures for religions equality. Then we might close the service by solemnly objur- ing every system which gave power to tyrannise over the rights of conscience. Here, as in other places where Bunyan founded churches, the cause of Christ hath spread. At llitchin, iu 1681, about thirty-five Christians united in the following covenant : — ' \\ o who, through the mercy of God, aud our Lord Jesus Christ, have obtained grace to give ourselves to the Lord, and one to another by the will of God, to have communion with one another, as saiuts in one gospel fellowship: — Do, before God our Lather, and our Lord Jesus Christ, aud the holj agree and promise to waft together iu this one gospel com- munion aud fellowship as a church of Jesus Christ, in love to the Lord and one to another, aud endeavour to yield sincere and hearty obedience to the laws, ordinances, aud appointments of our Lord aud Lawgiver iu his church. And also d aud promise, the Lord assisting, to follow after th which make for peace, and tilings wherewith one nn . another, that so living aud walking in love and | of love and peace mav be with us. Amen.' This was probably drawn by Bunyan, and so simple aud comprehensive has it proved, that the church has nourished, . a spacious and handsome place of worship has been erected, to accommodate a thousand worshippers, at a cost of MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. became broken-hearted, and tbe lowly were raised, and blessings abounded; the drunkards were made sober ; thieves and covetous were reclaimed ; the blasphemers were made to sing the praises of God; the desert bid fair to blossom and bring forth fruit as a garden. But, alas! his early labours were contrary to acts of parliament ; the spirit of in- tolerance and persecution soon troubled, and eventually consigned him to a prison. Before we bid a final farewell to Bunyan's ex- traordinary mental struggles with unbelief, it may be well to indulge in a few sober reflections. Are tbe narratives of these mighty tempests in his .spirit plain matters of fact ? No one can read the works of Butiyan and doubt for a moment his -truthfulness. His language is that of the heart, fervent but not exaggerated, strong but a plain tale of real feelings. He says, and he believed it, 1 My sins have appeared so big to me, that I tli ought one of my sins have been as big as all the sins of all the men in the nation ; ay and of other nations too, reader ; these things be not fancies, for I have smarted for this experience. It is true that Satan has the art of making the uttermost of every sin ; he can blow it up, make it swell, make every hair of its head as big as a cedar;1 but yet the least stream of the heart blood of Jesus hath vanished all away and hath made it to fly, to the astonishment of such a poor sinner, and hath delivered me up into sweet and heavenly peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.'2 Some have supposed the narrative to be exagger- ated, while others have attributed the disturbed state of his mind to disease ; my humble belief is that tbe whole is a plain unvarnished account of facts ; that those facts occurred while he was in full possession of all the faculties of his mind. To ascribe such powers to the invisible world by -which we are constantly surrounded, does not agree with the doctrines of modern philosophers. Those holy or uuholy suggestions suddenly in- jected, would by the world be set down as the hallucinations of a distempered imagination. Car- nal relations attributed Christian's alarm to 'some frenzy distemper got into his head,' and Southey, following their example, ascribes Bunyan's hal- lowed feelings to his want of ' sober judgment,' 'bis brutality and extreme ignorance,' a 'stage of burning enthusiasm,' and to ' an age in which hypocrisy was regnant, and fanaticism rampant throughout the laud.'3 What a display of reign- ing hypocrisy and rampaut fanaticism was it to £3000, all paid for, with a surplus fund in hand for contin- gencies, of £500. In addition, there are also large and com- modious chapels for the Independents, 'Weslcvans, and Quakers 1 Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. i., p. 210. - Law and Grace, vol. i., pp. 5-1'J, 550. 3 Life of Banyan, p. xiv. see the game at cat openly played by men on Sunday, the church bells calling them to their sport Had Southey been poet-laureate to Charles II., he might with equal truth have con- cealed the sensuality, open profaneness, and de- bauchery of that profligate monarch and his court of concubines, and have praised him as 'the Lord's anointed.' Bunyan was an eye-witness of the state of the times in which he lived, and he associated with numbers of the poor in Bedfordshire and the adjoining counties. So truthful a man's testi- mony is of great value, and he proves that no miraculous reformation of manners had taken place ; no regnant hypocrisy nor rampant fanati- cism. In 1655, that being the brightest period of the Commonwealth, he thus ' sighs ' over the state of his country : — 'There are but a few places in the Bible but there are threatenings against one sinner or another; against drunkards, swearers, liars, proud persons, strumpets, whoremongers, covetous, railers, extortioners, thieves, lazy per- sons. In a word, all manner of sins are reproved, and there is a sore punishment to be executed on the committers of them ; and all this made men- tion of iii the Scriptures. But for all this, how thick, and by heaps, do these wretches walk up and down our streets? Do but go into the ale- houses, and you shall see almost every room besprinkled with them, so foaming out their own shame that it is enough to make the heart of a saint to tremble.'4 This was a true character of the great masses of the labouring and trading- portions of the commonwealth. Let us hear his testimony also as to the most sacred profession, the clergy, in 1654 : — 'A reason why delusions do so easily take place in the hearts of the ignorant, is, because those that pretend to be their teachers, do behave them- selves so basely among them. And indeed I may say of these, as our Lord said of the Pharisees iu another case, the blood of the ignorant shall be laid to their charge. They that pretend they are sent of the Lord, and come, saying, Thus saith the Lord ; we are the servants of the Lord, our commission is from the Lord by succession ; I say, these pretending themselves to be the preachers of truth, but are not, do, by their loose conversation, render the doctrine of God, and his Son Jesus Christ, by whom the saints are saved, contemp- tible, and do give tbe adversary mighty encourage- ment, to cry out against the truths of our Lord Jesus Christ, because of their wicked walking. For the most part of them, they are the men that at this day do so harden their hearers in their sins by giving them such ill examples, that none goeth beyond them for impiety. As, for example, would a parishioner learn to be proud, he or she 4 Sighs, vol. iii., p. 712. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. need look no farther than to the priest, his wife, and family ; for there is a notable pattern before them. Would the people learn to he wanton? they may also see a pattern among their teachers. Would they learn to bo drunkards ? they may also have that from somo of their ministers ; for indeed they are ministers in this, to minister ill example to their congregations. Again, would the people learn to bo covetous? they need but look to their minister, and they shall have a lively, or rather a deadly resemblance set beforo them, in both riding and running after great benefices, and parsonages by night and by day. Nay, they among themselves will scramble for the same. I have seen, that so soon as a man hath but departed from his benefice as he calls it, either by death or out of covetousness of a bigger, we have had one priest from this town, and another from that, so run, for these tithe-cocks and handfuls of barley, as if it were their proper trade, and calling, to hunt after the same. 0 wonderful impiety and ungodliness ! are you not ashamed of your doings ? Read Ro. i. towards the end. As it was with them, so, it is to be feared, it is with many of you, who knowing the judgments of God, that they who do such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure also in them that do them. And now you that pretend to be the teachers of the people in verity and truth, though we know that some of you are not, is it a small thing with you to set them such an example as this ? Were ever the Pharisees so profane; to whom Christ said, Ye vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell ? Doth not the ground groan under you ? surely, it will favour you no more than it favoured your fore-runners. Certainly the wrath of God lies heavy at your doors, it is but Ezc.xiii,readthatwhoic^ very little while, and your re- chapter, and you will compense shall be upon your lind it as it was a look- x L J iug glass by which thou own head. And as for you that mayest notahlyseethem • i i r n i .1 with their marks and are indeed of God among them, discoveries. though not of them, separate yourselves. Why should the righteous partake of the same plagues with the wicked ? 0 ye children of the harlot ! I cannot well tell how to have done with you, your stain is so odious, and you are so senseless, as appears by your practices.'1 The testimony of George Fox as to England's fashions in 1654, is very pointed and extremely droll: — "Men and women are carried away with fooleries and vanities ; gold and silver upon their backs, - store of ribbands hanging about the waist, knees, and feet — red or white, black or yellow ; women with their gold ; their spots on their faces, noses, cheeks, foreheads ; rings on their fingers, 1 Gospel Truths, vol. ii., p. 178. 2 Like the Bcef-catcrs, or yeomen of the guard at the present day. VOL. III. cuffs double, like a butcher's white sleeves ; rib- bands about their hands, and three or four "■old laces about their clothes ; men dressed like fiddlers' boys or stage players; see them playing at bowls, or at tables, or at shovel-board, or each one deck- ing his horse with bunches of ribbands on his head, as the rider hath on his own. These are gentle- men, and brave fellows, that say pleasures are lawful, and in their sports they shout like wild asses. This is the generation carried away with pride, arrogancy, lust, gluttony, and uncleanness ; who cat and drink and rise up to play, their eyes full of adultery, and their bodies of the devil's adorning.13 Such quotations from the writings of men of undoubted veracity, and who lived during that period, might be multiplied to fill a volume. Is this the regnant hypocrisy and rampant fana- ticism which prevailed in England, and which Southcy supposes to have influenced Bunyan and deranged his sober judgment ? It is true that the Protector and his council discountenanced vice and folly, and that there was more piety and virtue in the kingdom at that time than it had ever before witnessed. But it would have been the greatest of miracles, had the people been suddenly moralized, after having been baptized in brutality for ages. Not a century had elapsed since tho autos da fe had blazed throughout the country, burning the most pious, moral, and enlightened of her citizens. A century of misery to the profes- sors of religion had passed, in which the persecu- tions of Papists and Puritans, hanging, transport- ing, murdering by frightful imprisonments all those who dared to dissent from the church of England. All this must have produced a debas- ing effect upon public morals. Even among pro- fessors Bunyan discovered pride, covetousness, impiety, and uncleanness.4 Bunyan 's religious impressions did not, as Southey states, arise from his ignorance, brutal manners, low station, nor from the fanaticism of the age in which he lived. Did the similar feeling of Job or David spring from these polluted foun- tains ? He is a stranger to Christ's school that confounds its discipline with mental drunkenness, or with tho other depraved sources alluded to by Southey. The luxurious imagination which ruled over him, must be curbed and brought into sub- jection to Christ. He must be weaned from a reliance upon sudden impulses to rely upon Divine truth. The discovery of errors by scriptural in- vestigation was putting on armour of proof. Self- confidence was gradually swallowed up by depend- ence upon the word — the result of the severest s Journal, folio, 1694, p. 144. Is it surprising that the Quakers, at such a time, assumed their peculiar neatness of dress ? 4 Vol. ii., p. 173, 5C6. MEMOIR OP JOHN BUNYAN. spiritual training. Those painful exercises produced a life of holiness and usefulness. Can the thistle produce grapes, or the noxious weeds corn ? Never ! His experience came from heaven, in mercy to his soul, and to make him a blessing to millions of his race. By this he was made truly -wise, civi- lized, enlightened, and elevated. Every painful feeling was measured by Divine rule — weighed in the sanctuary balance — not one iota too much or too littlo to form his noble character. He has been compared with Lord Byron, one of our most impassioned thinkers and writers ; but the noble poet's heart-griefs were on the wrong side. Judg- ing of his own feelings by those painted on his heroes : — they fight for freedom only to gratify lust, pride, and ambition, while the future appeared in dark, dreary uncertainty. But Bunyan strives to be released from the slavery of sin and Satan, that he might enjoy the liberty of being a servant of Christ, whose service is perfect freedom, with a glorious vista of eternity occasionally breaking in upon his soul. Well may it be said of him : — Simple, enchant- ing man! what does not the world oAve to thee and to the great Being who could produce such as thee ? Teacher alike of the infant and of the aged ; who canst direct the first thought and re- move the last doubt of man ; property alike of the peasant and the prince ; welcomed by the ignorant and honoured by the wise; thou hast translated Christianity into a new language, and that a uni- versal one ! Thou art the prose poet of all time ! THE FOURTH PERIOD. BUNYAN ENTERS INTO CONTROVERSY — BECOMES AN AUTHOR — OFFENDS A PERSECUTING MAGISTRACY, AND IS PRO- CEEDED AGAINST AT THE SESSIONS UNDER AN ACT OF THE COMMONWEALTH IS ACCUSED OF REPORTING A STRANGE CHARGE OF WITCHCRAFT PUBLICLY DISPUTES WITH THE QUAKERS. In proportion as a man becomes a public character, especially if eminent for talent and usefulness in the church, so will his enemies increase. The envy of some and the malice of others will invent slanders, or, what is worse, put an evil construction upon the most innocent conduct, in the hope of throwing a shade over that brightness which reveals their own defects. In this they are aided by all the craft, and cunning, and power of Satan, the arch- enemy of man. The purity of gospel truth carries with it the blessed fruits of the highest order of civilization ; the atmosphere in which it lives is ' good will to man.' Salvation is a free gift, direct from God to the penitent sinner. It cannot be ob- tained by human aid, nor for all the gold in the universe. It cannot possibly be traded in, bought, or sold, but is bestowed without money or price. Hence the opposition of Antichrist. The cry or groan of the contrite enters heaven and brings down bless- ings, while the most elegant and elaborately-com- posed prayer, not springing from the heart, is read or recited in vain. Human monarchs must be ap- proached by petitions drawn up in form, and which may be accepted, although the perfection of insin- cerity and hypocrisy. The King of kings accepts no forms ; he knows the heart, and requires the approach of those who worship him to be in sin- cerity and in truth ; the heart may plead without words, God accepteth the groans and sighs of those that fear him. These were the notions that Bunyan had drawn from the Holy Oracles, and his conver- sation soon made him a favourite with the Puritans, while it excited feelings of great hostility among the neighbouring clergy and magistrates. Bunyan's conversion from being a pest to the neighbourhood to becoming a pious man, might have been pardoned had he conformed to the Directory ; but for him to appear as a Dissenter and a public teacher, without going through the usual course of education and ordination, was an unpardonable offence. The opinions of man gave him no concern ; all his anxiety was to have the approbation of his God, and then to walk accord- ingly, braving all the dangers, the obloquy, and contempt that might arise from his conscientious discharge of duties, for the performance of which he knew that he alone must give a solemn account at the great day. He entered upon the serious work of the ministry with fear and trembling, with much heart-search- ing, earnest prayer, and the advice of the church to which he was united, not with any pledge to abide by their decision contrary to his own convic- tion, but to aid him in his determination. His own account of these important inquiries is very striking: — 'After I had been about five or six years awakened, and helped myself to see both the want and worth of Jesus Christ our Lord, and also enabled to venture my soul upon him, some of the most able among the saints with us, for judgment and holiness of life, as they conceived, did perceive that God had counted me worthy to understand something of his will in His holy and blessed Word, and had given me utterance, in some measure, to ex- press what I saw to others for edification ; therefore they desired me, and that with much earnestness, that I would be willing at some times to take in hand, in one of the meetings, to speak a word of exhor- tation unto them. The which, though at the first it did much dash and abash my spirit, yet being still by them desired and entreated, I consented to their request, and did twice, at two several assem- blies in private, though with much weakness and infirmity, discover my gift amongst them ; at which they did solemnly protest, as in the sight of the ME.M01U OF JOHN BUNYAX. great God, they were both affected and comforted, and gave thanks to the Father of mercie3 for the grace bestowed on me. • After this, sometimes, when some of them did go into the country to teach, they would also that I should go with them ; where, though as yet I did not, nor durst not, make use of my gift in an open way, yet more privately, as I came amongst the good people in those places, I did sometimes speak a word of admonition unto them also, the which they, as the other, received with rejoicing at the mercy of God to me-ward, professing their souls ay ere edified thereby. ' Wherefore at last, being still desired by the church, after some solemn prayer to the Lord, with fasting, I was more particularly called forth, and appointed to a more ordinary and public preaching of the Word, not only to and amongst them that believed, but also to offer the gospel to those who had not yet received the faith thereof.'1 The ministry of Bunyan's pastor, whom he affec- tionately called holy Mr. Giiford, must have been wonderfully blessed. In 1G50 only twelve pious men and women were formed into a Christian church, and, although subject to fierce persecution, they had so increased that in 1G72 ten members had been solemnly set apart for the work of the minis- try, and they became a blessing to the country round Bedford. The benighted state of the vil- lages was a cause of earnest prayer that men might be sent out, apt to teach, and willing to sacrifice liberty, and even life, to promote the peaceful reign of the Redeemer. The names of the men who were thus set apart were — John Bunyan, Samuel Fenn, Joseph Whiteman, John Fenn, Oliver Scott, Luke Ashwood, Thomas Cooper, Edward Dent, Edward Isaac, and Nehemiah Coxe.- Four of 1 Grace Abounding, vol. i., p. 41. 2 Nehemiah Coxe is said to have been a descendant from Dr. Richard Coxe, preceptor to Edward, VI., aud Dean of Ox- ford. He fled from persecution under Mary, was a troubler of his brother refugees by his turbulent temper, and his attach- ment to superstitious ceremonies. On his return, he was made Bishop of Ely, and became a bitter persecutor. Benja- min Coxe, A.M., probably a son of the furious bishop, was as ardently fond of rites and ceremonies. He was cited to appear before Laud for denying the jure divino of bishops, and the poor bishop said, " God did so bless me that I gave him satis- faction." Mr. Coxe soon after came out as a Baptist, and having preached at Bedford, he settled in Coventry. Here he dis- puted with Mr. Baxter and the Presbyterians; and the Indepen- dents had lum imprisoned for defending adult baptism (Crosby, History of Baptists, i. 35-4), a very short mode of settling the controversy. Probably Nehemiah Coxe was his son, settled at Bedford as a shoemaker. He was a learned man, and, when tried at Bedford assizes for preaching the gospel, he was indicted in the usual Normau-Prench, or Latin; and pleaded first in Greek, which the prosecutors not understanding, he pleadediu Hebrew, arguing, that as his indictment was in a foreign tongue, he was entitled to plead in any of the learned languages. The counsel being ignorant of those languages, and the judge glad to get rid of a vexatious indictment, dismissed him, saying to the counsellors, ' Well, this cordwainer hath wound you all up, gentlemen.' This anecdote is handed down in a funeral scr- tbese were permitted to fulfil their course without notoriety ; the others were severely persecuted, lined, and imprisoned, but not forsaken. Encouraged hy the opinion of the church which had been so prayerfully formed, that it was his duty to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation, Bunyan entered upon his important work, and was soon encouraged by a hope that Ins labours were useful to his fellow-men. 'About this time,' he narrates, ' I did evidently find in my mind a secret pricking forward thereto, though, I bless God, not for desire ot vain glory, for at that time I was most sorely afflicted with the fiery darts of the devil concerning my eternal state. But yet I could not bo content unless I was found in the exercise of my gift ; unto which also I was greatly animated, not only by the continual desires of the godly, but also by that saying of Paul to the Corinthians, " I beseech you, brethren (ye know the household of Stephanas, that it is the first-fruits of Achaia, aud that they have addicted themselves to the ministry of the saints), that ye submit yourselves unto such, and to every one that helpeth with us, and labour- Cth " (1 Cor. xvi. 15.16). 1 By this text I was made to Bee that the Holy Ghost never intended that men, who have gifts and abilities, should bury them in the earth, but rather did command and stir up such to the exercise of their gift, and also did commend those that were apt and ready so to do. 1 Wherefore, though of myself, of all the saints the most unworthy, yet I, but with great fear and trembling at the sight of my own weakness, did set upon the work, and did according to my gift, and the proportion of my faith, preach that hlessed gospel that God had showed me in the holy Word of truth ; which, when the country understood, they came in to hear the Word by hundreds, and that from all parts. And I thank God he gave unto me some measure of bowels and pity for their souls, which did put me forward to labour with great diligence and earnestness, to find out such a word as might, if God would bless it, lay hold of and awaken the conscience, in which also the mon by T. Sutcliff, on the death of Symonds, one of the pastors of the church at Bedford. Another of this little band that was set apart with Bunyan, became so useful a preacher as to have been honoured with a re- cord in the annals of persecution in the reigu of Charles II. John Penn was on Lord's-day, May 15, 1G70, committed to prison for preaching iu his own house ; and on Tuesday, all his goods and stock in trade were seized aud carted away, leaving his family in the most desolate condition. In the following week, Edward Isaac, a blacksmith, another of this little band, having been fined, had all his stock in trade, and even the anvil upon which he worked, seized and carted away. Such were the severe trials which these excellent citizen? were, with their families, called to pass through, by the tyranny of the church j but they were light, indeed, in comparison with those that awaited the amiable and pious Bunyan. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. good Lord had respect to the desire of his servant; for I had not preached long before some began to be touched, and be greatly afflicted in their minds at the apprehension of the greatness of their sin, and of their need of Jesus Christ. • But I at first could not believe that God should speak by me to the heart of any man, still counting myself unworthy ; yet those who were thus touched would love me, and have a particular respect for me ; and though I did put it from me that they should be awakened by me, still they would con- fess it, and affirm it before the saints of God. They would also bless God for me, unworthy wretch that I am ! and count me God's instrument that showed to them the way of salvation. ' Wherefore, seeing them in both their words and deeds to be so constant, and also in their hearts so earnestly pressing after the knowledge of Jesus Christ, rejoicing that ever God did send me where they were ; then I began to conclude that it might be so, that God had owned in his work such a foolish one as I ; and then came that word of God to my heart with much sweet refreshment, " The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy " (Job xxix. 13). • At this therefore I rejoiced ; yea, the tears of those whom God did awaken by my preaching would be both solace and encouragement to me. I thought on those sayings, " Who is he that maketh me glad, but the same that is made sorry by me" (2 Cor. a. 2). And again, "Though I be not an apostle to others, yet doubtless I am unto you : for the seal of my apostleship are ye in the Lord " (i Cor. ix. 2). These things, therefore, were as an another argument unto me, that God had called me to, and stood by me in this work. 4 In my preaching of the Word I took special notice of this one thing, namely, that the Lord did lead me to begin where his Word begins with sin- ners ; that is, to condemn all flesh, and to open and allege, that the curse of God by the law doth belong to, and lay hold on all men as they come into the world, because of sin. Now this part of my work I fulfilled with great feeling, for the ter- rors of the law, and guilt for my transgressions, lay heavy on my own conscience. I preached what I felt, what I smartingly did feel, even that under which my poor soul did groan and tremble to as- tonishment. Indeed, I have been as one sent to them from the dead ; I went myself in chains to preach to them in chains ; and carried that fire in my own conscience that I persuaded them to be- ware of.1 I can truly say, that when I have been to preach, I have gone full of guilt and terror even 1 If Christians recollected with what anxiety their teachers prepared and delivered their sermons, how constant and prayer- ful would be their attendance on the means of grace. to the pulpit-door, and there it hath been taken off, and I have been at liberty in my mind until I have done my work, and then, immediately, even before I could get down the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I was before : yet God carried me on with a strong hand, for neither guilt nor hell could take me off my work. Thus I went on for the space of two years, crying out against men's sins, and their fearful state because of them.'2 A man so much in earnest soon became a most acceptable and popular preacher. He studied his sermons carefully, and wrote such memorandums and notes as might refresh his memory before going into the pulpit, although his intensity of feeling, his ready utterance, and natural eloquence which charmed his hearers, and his extensive usefulness as a preacher, render it quite improbable that ho restricted himself to notes while publicly engaged in sacred services. They must have aided him when he did not enjoy liberty of utterance. ' At times when I have begun to speak the Word with much liberty, I have been presently so straitened in speech that I scarcely knew what I was about, or as if my head had been in a bag.'3 They were valuable, also, as a proof that all he said had its exclusive reference to the world to come, without the mixture of politics, which might have given offence to the Government. Thus, when he was apprehended for neglecting to attend the church service and for preaching the gospel, in his conversation with Mr. Cobb, the magis- trate's clerk, he said * that, to cut off all occa- sions of suspicion from any, as touching the harmlessness of my doctrine, in private I would willingly take the pains to give any one the notes of all my sermons, for I do sincerely desire to live quietly in my country, and to submit to the present authority.' i In such troublesome times these would afford abundant proof that he was desirous of submitting to aH the political institutions of his country, while he dared not conform to human laws affecting his faith or his mode of worshipping God, for which he alone was to stand answerable at the great day. 2 Grace Abounding, vol. i., p. 42. The taunts and revil- ings of a poet laureate upon Bunyan's preaching and sufferings need only a passing notice. No words could be more vile and slanderous than those of Mr. Southey. He says, ' Peace might- be on his lips, and zeal for the salvation of others in his heart, but he was certainly, at that time, no preacher of good will, nor of christian charity.' How can we judge of a preacher's good will, but by ' peace on his lips?' and what is the criterion of Christian charity, except it be ' zeal for the salvation of others in his heart ? 3 Grace Abounding, No. 293, vol. i., p. 44. 4 Vol. i., p. 59. Eben. Chandler thus describes Bunyan : ' His wit was sharp and quick, his memory tenacious ; it being customary with him to commit his sermons to writing after he had preached them.' — Chandler and Wilson's Preface to Banyan's Works, folio. 1692. All these autographs have un- accountably disappeared. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. The employment of his time in earning a maintenance for his family, and his constant en- gagements to preach, interfered with the proper fulfilment of his duties as a deacon of the church. His resignation of this important office is thus recorded in the minutes of the church — ■ At a meeting held on the 27th of the 6th month, 1G57, the deacon's office was transferred from John Bun- yan to John Pernio, because he could no longer discharge its duties aright, in consequence of his being so much employed in preaching.' We cannot wonder that his time was incessantly employed. His was no ordinary case. He had to recover and improve upon the little education he had received, and lost again by dissipated habits. He must have made every effort, by his diligent study of the Bible, to gain that spiritual knowledge which alone could enable him to pro- claim the unsearchable riches of Christ, and that profound internal converse with the throne of God which appears in all his writings. In addition to all this, he was engaged in continual controversy with a variety of sects, which, in his sober judg- ment, opposed the simplicity of the gospel. Among these the Ranters, or Sweet Singers, were very conspicuous. It is difficult to discover what were their opinions, but they appear to have been nearly like the Dutch Adamites ; they were severely per- secuted, by public authority, under the Common- wealth, for blasphemy. George Fox found some of them in prison at Coventry in 1649, and held a short disputation with them. They claimed each one to be God, founding their notion on such passages as l Cor. xiv. 25, ' God is in you of a truth.' Fox quaintly asked them whether it would rain the next day ; and upon their answering that they could not tell, ■ Then said I unto them, God can tell.'1 Strange as it may appear, the Ranters had many followers, while numerous pious people wero troubled by their impudence and perversion of Scripture, but more especially by their being a persecuted people. Taking advantage of the inquiries that were excited by these strange doctrines, Bunyan determined to be- come an author, that he might set forth more exten- sively than he could do by preaching, the truths 1 Noticed in the life annexed to 1'Uyrim, Part III. of the gospel in their native purity, simplicity, and beauty, as an antidote to fanaticism. The learned and eloquent looked with contempt upon the follies of the Ranters, Familists, and some loose Quakers, 'and only deigned to abuse them with rail- lery, while the poor unlettered tinker wrote against them.' To indite a work would be to him a pleasant recreation, but writing a book must have been ex- tremely difficult, and have required extraordinary pa- tience. This will be better seen by a specimen of his handwriting, now in the Bedford Library, found in Fox's Book of Martyrs, the three volumes of which beguiled many of his tedious hours when in prison. fact* t*> O^ %U«A -Ry %cM mob siW-aAt&r To write a volume, containing about twenty-five thousand words, must have been a serious task to such a scribe. It is interesting to trace his improvement in caligraphy while recovering his lost education, and advancing in proficiency in an art so essential to his constantly extending usefulness. XOHN • B JOHN o^u/& Doth the owle to them apper Which put them all into a fear Mi \. 0\*(* \As'*\ Will not the man in treble crown Fright the owle unto the ground.' The above signatures in Fox's Book of Martyrs (one of his first acquisitions in book-collecting), are remarkably rude and laboured; a great effort to produce hi-, name handsomely such as a young scribe would contemplate with no small degree of satisfaction. On a page of that book, under the engraving of an owl appearing at a council held by Pope John at Home, he had written the above four lines. The next is a more useful running hand, how- ever defective in orthography and grammar ; it is MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. from the first page of a copy of Bishop Andrews* u n rttwm tj ifooci The inscription in a copy of his Holy City, 1665, in Dr. Williams' or the Dissenters' Library, Red Cross Street, is in a still more useful hand, as good as that of most authors of that day — SrkT £4 The autograph in Powell's Concordance, in the library of the Baptist Academy, Bristol, is in a fair hand — j&£* ^^ryp CZ7Z- His autograph is in possession of the Society of Antiquaries. The document to which it is sub- scribed is written in a remarkably neat hand, addressed to the Lord Protector. The signatures appear to he written as if in the writer's best style.2 $f. 03 t-crij&Ti Signature to the deed of gift3— */>W^2 In addition to the motives which have been noticed as inducing him to become an author, it 1 In tlic editor's library, folio, 1G35. Orthography was little cared for in those days. On the beautiful portrait of Andrews, is the autograph of Annie Brokett hit Blook ! - This document is copied on page x.wi. 3 Sec page kxii. appears, that in the course of his itinerating la- bours, he was much grieved with the general depra- vity which had overspread all classes of society. Evil communications had corrupted the great mass, and occasioned an aversion to hear the gospel, which plunged the people into carnal security. When roused by his preaching they too often found refuge in despair, or in vain attempts to impose upon God their unholy self-righteousness, endeavouring * to earn heaven with their fingers' ends ;' i anything rather than submit to receive salvation as the free gift of God, and thus be led to consecrate all their powers to his glory and the comfort of society. A few who appeared to have thought on this solemn subject, without any change of conduct, are called by Bunyan 'light notionists, with here and there a legalist,'5 or those who relied upon a creed without the fruits of righteousness, and some of these im- bibed notions of the strangest kind — that the light within was all-sufficient, without any written revelation of the will of God — that the account of Christ's personal appearance on earth was a myth, to repre- sent his residence in the persons of be- lievers, in whom he suffers, is crucified, buried, and raised again to spiritual life — that such persons mightdo whatever their inclinations led them to, without incurring guilt or sin ; in short, many sinned that grace might abound ! ! Some of them professed to be the Almighty God manifest in the flesh. All this took place in what was called a Christian country, upon -which millions of treasure had been spent to teach religion by systems, which had persecuted the honest, pious professors of vital Christianity to bonds, imprisonment, and death. This had naturally involved the kingdom in impiety and gross immorality. The discovery of the awful state of his country, while he was engaged in preaching in the villages round Bedford induced him, in the humble hope of doing good, to become an author, and with trembling anxiety he issued to the world the first production of his pen, in 1656, under the title of Some Gospel Truths Opened according to the Scriptures ; and, as we shall presently find, it met with a rough reception, plunging him into controversy, which in those days was conducted with bitter acrimony. Before it was published, he sought the appro- bation and protection of Mr. John Burton, who had been united with Mr. Gifford in the pastoral charge of the church to which Buuyan belonged. The testimony that lie gives is very interesting : — p. 132. 6 Vol. ii, p. 133. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUN VAX. 'Here thou bast things certain and necessary to be be- lieved, which thou canst not too much study. Therefore pray that thou mayest receive it, so it is according to the Scriptures, in faith and love, not as the word of man but as the word of God, and be not offended, because Christ holds forth the glorious treasure of the gospel to thee in a poor earthen vessel, by one who hath neither the great- ness nor the wisdom of this world to commend him to thee; for as the Scripture saith, Christ, who was low and contemp- tible in the world himself, ordinarily chooseth such for himself and fur the doing of his work. "Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called : but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world." This man [Banyan] is not chosen out of an earthly, but out of the heavenly university, the church of Christ, furnished with the Spirit, gifts, and graces of Christ - - out of which, to the cud of the world, the word of the Lord and all true gospel ministers must proceed. And, though this man hath not the learning or wisdom of man; yet, through grace, he hath received the teaching of God, and the learning of the Spirit of Christ. 1 It- hath taken these three heavenly degrees — union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan — which do more fit a man for the mighty work of preaching the gospel, than all the university learning aud de- grees that can be had. I have had experience with many other saints of this man's (Banyan's) soundness in the faith, his godly conversation, and his ability to preach the gospel, not by human art, but by the Spirit of Christ, aud that with much success in the conversion of sinners. I thought it my duty to bear witness with my brother to these glorious truths of the Lord Jesus Christ.' ' Bunyan was twenty-eight years of age when he published this work, and as he attacked the follies of his times, and what he deemed to be heresies, were exposed to Scripture light and condemned without mercy, it very naturally involved him in controversy. This brought forth the remarkable resources of his mind, which was stored with the Scriptures — his fearlessness — ready writ and keen retort, much sanctified by an earnest desire for the salvation of his opponents. An extraordinary man, younger than himself, full of energy and enthusiasm, entered the lists with him ; and in Edward Burrough, very properly called a son of thunder and of consola- tion, Bunyan found an able disputant. He was talented, pious, and fearless in his Master's work, and became eminently useful in laying the founda- tion of the Society of Friends. Soon after this he was numbered with the noble army of martyrs at the age of twenty-eight, being sacrificed in Newgate, at the shrine of religious intolerance. At this time the Quakers were not united as a body, and consequently there was no test of cha- racter nor rules of discipline for those who assumed that name. They were very dissimilar men to their quiet and unobtrusive descendants. The markets, fairs, and every public concourse were attended by them, denouncing false weights and measures, drunkenness and villany, with the curses of the Almighty, calling upon the people, frequently with ? Vol.ii.,pp. 140, 141. furious and fearful energy and powerful eloquence, to repent, aud cry unto God, that his mercy might bo extended to the salvation of their immortal souls. Their zeal led them to many breaches of (rood manners. They would enter churches, and after the service, when the quiet folks were thinking of gratifying their bodies with a substantial dinner, they were arrested by the violent declamation of a man or woman, frequently denouncing the priest as being the blind leading the blind. This natu- rally led to a scene of riot and confusion, in which the Quakers were in many cases handled with great barbarity. Among these disturbers were mingled persons of bad character. The violence of sectarian feeling in the churches thus disturbed, made no discrimination between bad and good ; they were equally subjected to the roughest treat- ment. Bunyan attacked those who denied that Christ had appeared in the world as Emmanuel, (Joel with us 'in fashion as a man,' that by the infinite merits of his life and death imputed to believers, they might be made holy. His attack was also directed against those who refused ohe- dience to the written Word, or who relied upon inward light in contradistinction and preference to the Bible. The title to Burrough 's answer is a strange contrast to the violence of his language — Hie Gospel of Peace contended for in tlie Spirit of Meekness and Loce. In this spirit of meekness he calls his opponents ' crafty fowlers preying upon the innocent;' and lovingly exclaims, ' How long shall the righteous be a prey to your teeth, ye subtle foxes ; your dens are in darkness, and your mischief is hatched upon your beds of secret whoredoms.' The unhallowed spirit of the age mistook abuse for argument, and harsh epithets for faithful dealing.- Bunyan replied in A Vindication of Gospel Truths, to the great satisfaction of all his friends ; and although Burrough answered this tract also, Bunyan very wisely allowed his railing opponent to have the last word, and applied his great powers to more important labours than cavilling with one who in reality did not differ with him. The Quaker had been seriously misled by supposing that the Baptist was a hireling preacher; and we must be pleased that he was so falsely charged, because it elicited a crushing reply. Burrough, 2 The American authors of a recent life of Burrough, [William and Thomas Evans, Philadelphia, republished by Gil- pin, London, 1851), have given au unfair account of his con- troversy with Bunyan, drawn from Burrough 's works in Qk shape of a supposed dialogue. Such a disputation can only he understood by reading both sides of the question. "We unite with them in admiring the character of that young but noble martyr. They are, however, wrong in their conclusion that 'the meekness and genlli J and adorned his whole character.' He was one of those that are called in the Holy War, 'rough hewu men fit to break the ice.' Vol. iii. p. 270. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. in reply to an imputation made by Bunyan, that the Quakers were the false prophets alluded to in Scripture, observed that 'in those days there ■was not a Quaker heard of.' 'Friend,' replied Bunyan, ' thou hast rightly said, there was not a Quaker heard of indeed, though there were many Christians heard of then. Again, to defend thy- self thou throwest the dirt in my face, saying, If we should diligently trace thee, we should find thee in the steps of the false prophets, through fancied words, through covetousness, making merchandise of souls, loving the wages of unrighteousness. To which Bunyan replied ; ' Friend, dost thou speak this as from thy own knowledge, or did any other tell thee so ? However, that spirit that led thee out this way, is a lying spirit ; for though I be poor, and of no repute in the world as to out- ward things, yet through grace I have learned, by the example of the apostle, to preach the truth, and also to work with my hands, both for mine own living, and for those that are with me, when I have opportunity. And I trust that the Lord Jesus, who hath helped me to reject the wages of unrighteousness hitherto, will also help me still, so that I shall distribute that which God hath given me freely, and not for filthy lucre sake.'1 Thus had he learned of the apostle to ' make the gospel of Christ without charge ' u Co. ix. is) ; and upon this subject they strangely agreed. The same agreement existed between them upon the necessity of inward light from the Holy Spirit ; without which they both considered the Bible to be a dead letter. The peculiar principle which separates the Quaker from every other Christian community, has nothing to do with the light within. Upon that subject all evangelical sects are agreed. The substantial difference is whether our Lord intended the work of the ministry to be exclusively a work of benevolence, charity, and love, binding all who are capable of using the talent intrusted to them, to do it without worldly reward. Surely every man may be satisfied in his own mind upon such a subject, without quarrelling with, or anathematiz- ing each other. Bunyan and Burrough agreed, without knowing it, in the sentiments of their illustrious and learned cotemporary, John Milton, as to the ministry being without charge; and had they, when offended, followed their Master's rule, ' If thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone ' (Mat. xviii. is), had they met, and on their knees before the throne of grace, sought from heaven wisdom and charity in defending Divine truth, we can easily imagine that the approbation of God would have been manifested, by sending them on their impor- tant work in peaceful unity. They had been 1 Vol. ii„ p. 201. immersed in the same deep and solemn regenera- tion, and their ardent object was the same — to spread the influence of the kingdom of Christ. When Christians of various denominations meet in prayer, how it melts down their sectarian bitterness. In this controversy, mention is made of a total abstinence movement in the time of the commonwealth, a germ which has put forth its mighty efforts in our more peaceful and happy times. A cloud now hovered over Bunyan, and threatened him with troubles of a very different kind to those of religious controversy. It will startle many of our readers to hear that, under the government of Cromwell, Bunyan was perse- cuted for his religious opinions and practices. Mr. Jukes, in his interesting History of Banyan's Church, thus refers to it : ' Soon after he had resigned the office of deacon in 1657, the hand of persecution was raised against him ; for at a meeting of the church, held on the 25th day of the twelfth month, in the same year (Feb. 1658), it was agreed that the 3d clay of the next month be set apart to seek God in the behalf of our brother Wheeler, who hath been long ill in body, whereby his ministry hath been hindered ; and also about the church affairs, and the affairs of the nation ; and for our brother Whitbread, who has long been ill ; and also for counsel what to do with respect to the indictment of brother Bunyan at the assizes, for preaching at Eaton.' 2 Although persecution for religious opinions as- sumed a milder form under the Commonwealth, the great principles of religious freedom and equality were neither known nor practised. The savage barbarities perpetrated upon Prynne, Bastwick, Burton, Leighton, and others, by Charles I. and his archbishop, Laud, were calculated to open the eyes of the nation to the wickedness and inutility of sanguinary or even any laws to govern the con- science, or interfere with Divine worship. Alas ! even those who suffered and survived became, in their turn, persecutors. The great object of perse- cution was the book of Common Prayer, the use of which was rigorously prohibited. The clergy were placed in an extremely awkward predicament. No sooner was the Act of Parliament passed ordering the Directory to be used and the Prayer-book to be laid aside, than the king, by his royal proclamation, issued from Oxford, November 13, 1645, ordered the Directory to be set aside, and the Common Prayer to be used in all the churches and chapels. Both these orders were under very severe penalties. The Act against atheistical opinions, which passed August 9, 1650, illustrates the extraordi- nary state of the times. The preamble states that, ' Divers men and women have lately discovered 2 P. 1G. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. xli themselves to be most monstrous in their opinions, and loose in all wicked and abominable practices.' It then enacts that — 'Any one, not being mad, who pretends to bo God Almighty, or who de- clares that unrighteousness, uncleanness, swearing, drunkenness, and the like filthiness and brutish- ness, or denying the existence of God, or who shall profess that murder, adultery, incest, forni- cation, uncleanness, filthy or lascivious speaking, are not wicked, sinful, impious, abominable, and detestable, shall be imprisoned, and, for a second offence, be transported.'1 One of the Acts that affected Bunyan was passed April 2G, 1G45, cap. 52 — 'None may preach but ordained ministers, except such as, intending the ministry, shall, for trial of their gifts, be allowed by such as bo appointed by both houses of Parlia- ment. ' This was amended by ' an ordinance appointing commissioners for approbation of public preachers,' March, 1G53. In this Dr. Owen, Goodwin, Caryl, and many others are named, who were to judge of the candidate's fitness to preach.2 The Act which more seriously touched Bunyan was that of May 2, 1648, which enacts that any person saying, 'that man is bound to believe no more than by his reason he can comprehend, or that the baptizing of infants is unlawful, or such baptism is void, and that such persons ought to be baptized again, and, in pursuance thereof, shall baptize any person formerly baptized, shall be imprisoned until he gives security that he will not publish or maintain the said error any more.' s 1 It is difficult to describe the state of those times. James Naylor rode into Bristol, a multitude accompanying him, strewiug their scarfs, handkerchiefs, and garments on the ground for his horse to tread on, and singing, Hosanna in the highest ; holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of Israel. He was addressed as the everlasting son of righteousness, and prince of peace. His brain was bewildered with adidation. 'Women kissed his feet, and called him Jesus the Son of God. To stop the tumult, he was apprehended, and had he been simply subjected to the discipline of a mad-house, like Mr. Brothers of a later period, his blood would soon have recovered from its agitation. Instead of this, a grand parade was made by trying him before a Committee of the House of Commons, and, upon a report of the whole house, he was convicted of ' horrid blasphemy,' and it was by the small majority of fourteen that his life was spared. His creel sentence was whipping, pillory, his tongue bored through with a red hot iron, a large letter B burnt into his forehead, and to be imprisoned during the plea- sure of Parliament. By his followers he was considered a martyr •, but the infatuation soon subsided. After his release, he was mercifully restored to his senses, and became a useful Quaker. 2 These commissioners were called 'triers,' and, being high Calvinists, were nick-named Dr. Absolute, chairmau, Mr. Fata- lity, Mr. Fri-babe, Mr. Dam-man, Mr. Narrow-grace, Mr. Indefectible, Mr. Dubious, and others. They turned out of their livings those clergymen who were proved to be immoral in their conduct, and others who did not come up to the orthodox staudard. Of these, Mr. Walker, in his account of the sufferings of the clergy, gives a long list. 3 This Act or ordinance of Parliament involved some of our excellent ancestors in trouble. Hansard Knollys, Wm. Kiffin, .Mr. Lamb, and many others, were imprisoned for short VOL. III. It was these intolerant proceedings that led Milton to publish a poem On tfte New Forcers of Con- science, beginning with these lines — 'Dare ye, for this, adjure the civil sword, To force our consciences that Christ set free.' This last-mentioned ungracious and uncalled- for Act against the Baptists, led some violent spirits to print a paper, entitled, 'The Second Part of England's new Chains Discovered,' this was read in many Baptist meeting-houses, and the congregations called upon to subscribe it : fortu- nately, they were peaceably disposed, and denounced it to the House of Commons in a petition, dated April 2, 1G49. Mr. Kiffin and the others were called in, when the Speaker returned them this answer — ' The House doth take notice of the good affection to the Parliament and public you have expressed, both in this petition and otherways. They have received satisfaction thereby, concerning your disclaiming that pamphlet, which gave such just offence to the Parliament, and also concerning your disposition to live peaceably, and in submis- sion to the civil magistracy ; your expressions whereof they account very Christian and season- able. That for yourselves and other Christians, walking answerable to such professions as in this petition you make, they do assure you of liberty and protection, so far as God shall enable them, in all things consistent with godliness, honesty, and civil peace.'4 Whether it was in consequence of this good understanding having remained be- tween the Baptists and the Parliament, or from some application to the Protector, or from some unknown cause, the persecution was stayed;0 for the indictment does not appear to have been tried, and Bunyan is found to have been present, and to have taken a part in the affairs of the church, untd the 25th day of the 2d Month, 16G0 (April), when 'it was ordered, according to our agreement, that our brother, John Bunyan, do prepare to speak a word at the next church meeting ; and periods ; Edward Barbour for eleven months. To avoid the informers, adult baptism was performed at midnight ; for this Henry Deune suffered imprisonment. That gracious and valuable minister, Vavasor Powcl also suffered a short impri- sonment during the Protectorate ; his life was afterwards sacri- ficed by a tedious imprisonment in the following reign. He was taken, with his flock, at a midnight meeting ; and for safe custody they were locked up in the parish church, and there he preached without molestation. When conveyed to I tice's house, while waiting his worship's leisure, hi preached. When this magistrate arrived, he was violeully enraged that his house should have been turned into a tide. He would have committed them at once to prison , bnt two of his daughters were so affected with the sermon, that, at their intercession, after severe threatening?, the preacher and his friends were set at liberty. 4 From the original, in the editor's possession. 5 Cotton Mather says that these laws were never carried to extremity, and were soon laid entirely by. Hist, of America. f xlii MEMOIR OP JOHN BUNYAN. that our brother Whiternan fail not to speak to hiin of it.'1 This invitation "was very probably intended to introduce kirn to the congregation, with a view to his becoming an assistant pastor, but before it took place, he again appeared before the public as an author. The second production of his pen is a solemn and most searching work, founded upon the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, under the title of A few Sighs from Hell, or the Groans of a Damned Soul ; by that poor and contemptible Servant of Jesus Christ, John Bunyan, 1G5S. His humility led him to seek the patronage of his pastor; and Mr. Gifford, under the initials of J. G., wrote a preface of thirty-eight pages, but he dying before it reached the second edition, that preface was dis- continued, and the title somewhat altered. The only copy of this first edition yet discovered is in the royal library at the British Museum. It appears to have belonged to Charles II., who, ■with more wit than decorum, has bound it up, as a supplement, to an extremely licentious book, as if it was intended to say, ' Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chamber of death;' or that a licentious life endeth in ' sighs from hell.' Mr. Gifford, in this preface, after strongly re- commending the work, speaks of the author in the most respectful and affectionate terms, showing that his zeal, and energy, and great usefulness had excited the envy of many who ought to have en- couraged him as one taught by the Spirit, and used in his hand to do souls good — ' divers have felt the power of the Word delivered by him ; and I doubt not but that many more may, if the Lord continues him in his -work;' and he gives this as a reason ' why the archers have shot so sorely at him ;' and then scripturally proves that no objec- tion should be made to his valuable services from his want of human learning. As the whole of this interesting preface is acourately reprinted with the book, the reader is referred to it without further extracts.2 The Editor's introduction to these Sighs was written under very solemn feelings, produced by reading this searching treatise. The rich man is intended to personify those who, neglecting salvation, die in their sins, while Lazarus per- sonates all those who humbly receive salvation as the gift of God ; who, however they may suffer in this world, retain their integrity to death. In this parable, a voice is heard from the place of tor- ment— the cry is a 'drop of water,' the slightest relief to unutterable woes; and that a messenger may be sent to warn his relatives, lest they should be plunged into the same torment. The impas- sable gulf defies the vain request, while the 1 Jukes' History of Banyan's Church, p. 16. - Works, vol. iii., p. G67 ; especially pp. 672, 673. despised Christian reposes; in everlasting and in- describable enjoyment. This little volume was very popular ; nine editions were printed and sold in the author's lifetime, besides pirated copies. Bunyan's feelings and mode of preaching are well described in the Grace Abounding,2 and will be felt by every attentive reader of his Sighs from Hell : — ' When I have been preaching, I thank God, my heart hath often, with great earnestness, cried to God that he would make the Word effectual to the salvation of the soul. Wherefore I did labour so to speak the Word, as that thereby, if it were possible, the sin and person guilty might be parti- cularized by it.' 'And when 1 have done the exercise, it hath gone to my heart, to think the Word should now fall as rain on stony places; still wishing from my heart, 0 ! that they who have heard me speak this day, did but see as I do, what sin, death, hell, and the curse of God is; and also what the grace, and love, and mercy of God is, through Christ, to men in such a case as they are who are yet estranged from him. 'For I have been in my preaching, especially when I have been engaged in the doctrine of life by Christ, without works, as if an angel of God had stood by at my back to encourage me.' Such feelings are not limited to Bunyan, but are most anxiously felt by all our pious ministers. How fervently ought their hearers to unite in approaches to the mercy-seat, that the Divine blessing may make the Word fruitful. In those days it was not an uncommon thing for the hearers, at the close of the sermon, to put questions to the preacher, sometimes to elicit truth, or to express a cordial union of sentiments, or to contradict what the minister had said. Upon one occasion, Mr. Bunyan, after his sermon, had. a singular dispute with a scholar. It is narrated by Mr. C. Doe, who was a personal friend and great admirer of our author, and who probably heard it from his own mouth, and will be found in the Struggler, inserted vol. iii., p. 767. It is the common taunt of the scorner, and sometimes a stone of stumbling to the inquirer, that, while the Christian believes in the intensity of the Saviour's sufferings, and that God was made flesh that he might offer himself as an atonement to redeem mankind, yet few are saved, in com- parison with those who are lost — broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many walk therein, while few attempt tiie narrow way to life ; that four sorts of hearers are described by the Saviour, only one receiving the truth; as if the doleful realms of darkness and misery would be more thickly peopled than those of light and hap- 3 No. 2S0-317, vol. i., p. 42-46. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. xliii piness, and Satan provo stronger than Christ. Such cavillers forget that the far greater portion of mankind die in infancy, purified by the Saviour's sufferings, and enter heaven in the perfection of manhood. As Mr. Toplady justly observes, what a vista does this upen to tho believer through the dreary gloom of the infidel! They forget, also, that all those who gain the narrow path, once helped to throng the road to destruction; and that the hearers, whose hardened deceitful hearts re- jected the gospel under one sermon, may, by mercy, have them opened to receive it under another. And who dares to limit the Almighty ? The power that prepared the spirit of the thief, when upon the cross, even in his last moments, for the pure enjoyments of heaven, still exists. Is the arm of the Lord shortened that he cannot save? The myriads of heaven will be found countless as are the sands upon the sea-shore, and the harmony of their worship shall swell like the voice of many waters and mighty thunderings, saying, 'Alleluja, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.' What ! Satan stronger than the Almighty Redeemer ? Perish the thought. Still how common is the question, which one of the disciples put to his mas- ter, 'Lord, are there few that be saved?' How striking the answer ! ' Strive to enter in at the strait gate ' (Lu. xuu 23). Encumber not thy mind with such needless inquiries, but look to thine own salvation. Another very singular anecdote is related, which proves that the use of the churches was not then limited to any one sect. ' Being to preach in a church in a country village (before the restoration of king Charles) in Cambridgeshire, and the people being gathered together in the church-yard, a Cambridge scholar, and none of the soberest of 'em neither, enquired what the meaning of that concourse of people was, it being upon the week day, and being told, That one Bunyan, a tinker, was to preach there, he gave a boy twopence to hold his horse, saying, He was resolved to hear the tinker prate ; and so went into the church to hear him. But God met with him there by his ministry, so that he came out much changed, and would, by his good will, hear none but the tinker for a long time after, he himself becoming a very eminent preacher in that county afterwards. This story I know to be true, having many a time dis- coursed with the man, and, therefore, I could not but set it down as a singular instance of the power of God that accompanied his ministry.' ! Bunyan's veneration for the Scriptures, as the only source and standard of religious knowledge, led him into frequent controversies. In common with the Christian world, he wholly depended upon the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit to 1 Life and Death of Mr. J. Banyan, 1700, p. 27. impress the Divine truths of revelation upon tho mind, and also to illustrate, open, and applv tho sacred writings to the heart of man. I! nahle to read the Bible in the original languages in which it was written, be wi.-ely mads use of every aid that might enable him to study its COntentE with the greatest advantage. It was his habit to examine the two translations then in common nee. The present authorized version, first published in 1G11, is that to which he usually refers ; comparing it with the favourite Puritan version made by the refugees at Geneva, and first printed in 1560. lie sometimes quotes the Genevan, and so familiar were the two translations, that in several instances he mixes them in referring from memory to pas- sages of holy writ. Upon one of his journeys, being upon the road near Cambridge, be was overtaken by a scholar, who concluded that he was an itinerant preacher, whether from having heard him, or observing his serious deportment, or his Bible reading, does not appear, although the latter was probably the rea- son. But the student determined to have a brush with him, and said, ' How dare you preach from the Bible, seeing you have not the original, being not a scholar?' Then said Mr. Bunyan, 'Have you the original ?' 'Yes, said the scholar.' ' Nay, but,' said Mr. Bunyan, ' have you the very self- same original copies that were written by the pen- men of the Scriptures, prophets and apostles?' 'No,' said the scholar, 'but we have the true copies of these originals.' 'How do you know that?' said Mr. Bunyan. 'How?' said tho scholar. ' Why, we believe what we have is a true copy of the original.' ' Then,' said Mr. Bun- yan, 'so do I believe our English Bible is a true copy of the original.' Then away rid the scholar.- As neither persecution nor railing, nor temptations, nor the assaults of Satan, produced any cfi'ect upon Bunyan to prevent his preaching, but rather excited his zeal and energy, means of a more deadly na- ture were resorted to, to injure or prevent his use- fulness. As Mr. Gilford said, ' The archers shot sorely at him ' by the most infamous and unfounded slanders, which he thus narrates : — ' When Satan perceived that his thus tempting and assaulting of me would not answer his design, to wit, to overthrow my ministry, and make it ineffectual, as to the ends thereof: then he tried another way, which was to stir up the minds of the ignorant and malicious to load me with slanders and reproaches. Now, therefore, I may say, that what the devil could devise, and his instruments invent, was whirled up and down the country against me, thinking, as I said, that by that means they should make my ministry to be abandoned. It beean, therefore, to be rumoured up and down - Vol. iii., p. 707. xliv MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. among the people, that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, and the like. To all which, I shall only say, God knows that I am innocent. But as for mine accusers, let them provide themselves to meet me before the tribunal of the Son of God, there to answer for all these things, with all the rest of their iniquities, unless God shall give them repentance for them, for the which I pray with all my heart. ' But that which was reported with the boldest confidence, was, that I had my misses, yea, two wives at once, and the like. Now these slanders, with the others, I glory in, because but slanders, foolish, or knavish lies, and falsehoods cast upon me by the devil and his seed ; and should I not be dealt with thus wickedly by the world, I should want one sign of a saint, and a child of God. " Blessed are ye (said the Lord Jesus) when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake; rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so persecuted they the pro- phets which were before you." 'These things therefore, upon mine own account, trouble me not. No, though they were twenty times more than they are, I have a good conscience; and whereas they speak evil of me, they shall be ashamed that falsely accuse my good conversation in Christ. Therefore I bind these lies and slan- ders to me as an ornament, it belongs to my chris- tian profession to be vilified, slandered, reproached, and reviled. I rejoice in reproaches for Christ's sake. My foes have missed their mark in this their shooting at me. I am not the man. If all the fornicators and adulterers in England were hanged by the neck till they be dead, John Bun- yan, the object of their envy, would be still alive and well. I know not whether there be such a thing as a woman breathing under the copes of the whole heaven, but by their apparel, their children, or by common fame, except my wife. ' And in this I admire the wisdom of God, that he made me shy of women from my first conver- sion until now. When I have seen good men salute those women that they have visited, I have made my objection against it; and when they have answered, that it was but a piece of civility, I have told them, it is not a comely sight. Some indeed have urged the holy kiss ; but then I have asked why they made baulks, why they did salute the most handsome, and let the ill-favoured go. Not that I have been thus kept, because of any good- ness in me, more than any other, but God has been merciful to me, and has kept me, to whom I pray that he will keep me still, not only from this, but every evil way and work, and preserve me to his heavenly kingdom. Amen.' 1 Notwithstanding all Mr. Bunyan's care to avoid the slightest appearance of evil, yet being over- persuaded to an ' act of humanity and civility to one of his female members, he was most unjustly calumniated. The circumstances which gave rise to this slander are narrated in James' Abstract of God's dealings with Mrs. Agnes Beaumont, of which an abridged account will be found in a note to the Grace Abounding? It exhibits in a remarkable manner how easily such reports are raised against the holiest men. Auother still more extraordinary and unnatural charge was made against Bunyan. He lived at a period when witchcraft, witches, and wizards were in the height of fashion. Any poor woman who had outlived or had become a burden to her natural protectors, and whose temper was soured by infirmities, especially if her language was vulgar and her appearance repulsive, ran the risk of being defamed as a witch. If in her neighbourhood a murrain seized the cattle, or a disease entered a family which baffled the little knowledge of the country practitioners — such as epilepsy, St. Vitus's dance, or St. Anthony's fire — it was ascribed to witchcraft, and vengeance was wreaked upon any reputed witch. In many parts of England she was tried by a kind of Lynch law, in a very summary manner. Her hands and feet being bound together, she was thrown into deep water ; if she sank, and was drowned, she was declared innocent; if she swam, it was a proof of guilt, and a little form of law condemned her to the stake or halter. In Scotland, they were treated with greater barbarity; they were awfully tortured — thumb-screws, the boots to crush their knees, pricking them with needles or awls night and day, to prevent a moment's rest, were persevered in — until a confession was extorted, to be followed by a frightful death. The ignorance that prevailed may account for the faith of the vulgar in witchcraft; but that learned divines, and even the enlightened Judge Hale, should fall into the delusion, is most surprising. The charge against Bunyan was, that he had circulated some paper libelling a most respectable widow, a Quakeress, as a witch. This paper cannot now be discovered ; but the story is so perfectly ridiculous as to render it quite impro- bable that Bunyan had any knowledge of it. The account is contained in a rare pamphlet of four leaves, preserved in the very curious library of the Society of Friends at Devonshire House, Bishops- gate. It is entitled, ' A lying wonder discovered, and the strange and terrible news from Cambridge proved false ; which false news is published in a libel, concerning a wicked slander cast upon a Quaker ; but the author of the said libel was ashamed to subscribe his name to it. Also, this 1 Grace Abounding, vol. i., p. 40. 2 See Note, vol. i., p. 45. MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNTAN. xlv contains an answer to John Bunion's paper, touch- ing the said imagined witchcraft, which he hath given forth to your wonderment, as he saith: hut it is also proved a lio and a slander by many cre- dible witnesses hereafter mentioned.'1 It narrates that Margaret Pryor, of Long Stanton, indicted, on the 28th July, 1059, the widow Morlin, a Quaker lady, for having, on the 20th November, 1057, took her out of bed from her husband in the night, put a bridle in her mouth, and trans- formed her into a bay mare, and with a Quaker, William Allen, rode upon her to Maddenly House, a distance of four miles; that they made her fast to the latch of the door, while she saw them par- take of a feast of mutton, rabbits, and lamb [lamb in November! !] ; that they shone like angels, and talked of doctrine, and that she knew some of the guests; that her feet were a little sore, but not her hands, nor was she dirty. In examining her, the judge elicited that she made no mention of the story for a year and three-quarters, and that her deposition then was that some evil spirit changed her into a bay-horse; that her hands and feet were lamentably bruised, and changed as black as a coal; that she had her chemise on, which was all bloody, from her sides being rent and torn with the spurs. All this was unknown to her hus- band ; nor had she accounted for her chemise so strangely fitting a horse or mare. It was proved that the complainant had received money for bringing the charge, and pretended to have burnt some of her hair with elder-bark, as a counter-charm to prevent it happening again. The judge summed up with observing that it was a mere dream or phantasy, and that the complainant was the sorcer- ess, by practising incantations in burning her hair and bark. The jury found a verdict of — not guilty; and thus two innocent persons were saved by an enlightened judge from an ignominious death. It is almost incredible that, even after the trial, priests and magistrates who had promoted the prosecution professed to believe that the charge was true. This singular narrative, in defence of the poor persecuted Quakeress, is signed James Blackley, an alderman, George Whitehead, and three others. No one can believe that John Bunyan gave credit to such a tale, or mentioned it to the injury of the parties accused. His reply was, that these slanders were devised by the devil and his instruments — ' God knows that I am in- nocent.' The probability is, that the pamphlet called Strange News from Cambrulgehad been sent to him, and that he gave it to some Quaker to answer. Considering the almost universal belief in witch- craft in those days — that Baxter, Cotton Mather, 1 4-to. London, IGo'J. A MS. copy is in the editor's pos- session. Clarke, and many of our most eminent divines, believed in it — and that Bunyan received the Scrip- tures in our authorized translation with the deep- est reverence, it becomes an interesting inquiry how far he believed in witchcraft, possessions, incantations, and charms. lie was persuaded that Satan could appear to mankind in the shape of animals, and in the human form. Had any one doubted the possibility of these appearances, he would at that time have been called an atheist and an unbeliever in the existence of God and of separato spirits. Thus he argues, that ' If sin can make one who was sometimes a glorious angel in heaven now so to abuse himself as to become, to appearance, as a filthy frog, a toad, a rat, a cat, a fly, a mouse, or a dog, to serve its ends upon a poor mortal, that it might gull them of everlasting life, no marvel if the soul is so beguiled as to sell itself from God and all good for so poor a nothing as a momentary pleasure.'* When speaking of the impropriety of excluding a pious person from the Lord's table, because of a difference of opinion as to water baptism, he says, ' Do you more to the openly profane — yea, to all wizards and witches in the land ?'3 In quoting Isaiah -iii., he, taught by the Puritan version, puts the key in the margin — ' Wild beasts of the desert shall be there and their houses shall bo full of dole- ful creatures. And owls shall dwell §ThatiJ the there, and satyrs* shall dance there.'4 hobgoblin-, He gave no credence to the appearance of departed spirits, except in the hour of death; and then, while between time and eternity, he thought that in some rare cases spiritual sight was given to see objects otherwise invisible/ He fully believed in the power of Satan to sug- gest evil thoughts to the pious Christian, and to terrify and punish the wicked, even in this life ; but never hints, through all his works, at any power of Satan to communicate to man any ability to injure bi3 fellows. What a contrast is there between the Pilgrim of Loretto, with its witch and devil story, mentioned in the introduction to the Pilgrim's Progress, and Bunyan's great alle- gorical work ! Conjurors and fortune-tellers, or witches and wizards, were vagabonds deserving for their fraudulent pretensions,6 punishment by a few months' imprisonment to hard labour, but not a frightful death. In all these things this great man was vastly in advance of his age. He had studied nature from personal observa- tion and the book of revelation. In proportion as the laws of nature are understood, the crafty pretensions of conjurors and witches become ex- posed to contempt, Bunyan never believed that 2 Vol. i, p. 683. 4 Vol. iii., p. 445. 6 Vol. iii., p. 48. 3 Vol. ii. 635. « Vol. iii., p. 680, xlvi MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. the great and uncnangeable principles which the Creator has ordained to govern nature could he disturbed by the freaks of poor old crazy women, for purposes trifling and insignificant. No, such a man could never have circulated a report that a woman was turned into a bay mare, and her chemise into a horse-cloth and saddle ! Un- bridled sectarian feeling perverted some remark of his, probably made with the kindest intention, into a most incredible slander. Among the many singularities of that very interesting period, one was the number of reli- gious tournaments or disputations that were held all over the country. The details of one of these, between Fisher, a Jesuit, and Archbishop Laud, occupy a folio volume. In these wordy duels the Baptists and Quakers bore a prominent part. To write a history of them would occupy more space than our narrow limits will allow. Bun- yan entered into one of these controversies with the Quakers at Bedford Market-cross,1 and pro- bably held others in the church, those buildings being at times available under the Protectorate for such purposes. Bunyan was met by the son of thunder, Edward Burrough, who was also assisted by Anne Blackly, a remarkably pious woman and an able disputant. Bunyan pressed them with the Scriptures, and dealt such severe blows that Mrs. Blackly, in the public assembly, bid him throw away the Scriptures. To which he answered, ' No, for then the devil would be too hard for me.' The great controversy was as to Christ within his saints. Bunyan proved, by the holy oracles, that Christ had ascended, and was at the right hand of God ; to which Mrs. Blackly answered, that he preached up an idol, and used conjuration and witchcraft. To the charge of spiritual conjuration and witchcraft he made no reply, it being unworthy his notice; but called upon her to repent of her wickedness in calling Christ an idol. With regard to his presence in his saints, he reminded her, that if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.2 As a matter of course, both parties claimed the victory; and although the hearers were puzzled, doubtless much good was effected. These were comparatively happy days for God's fearers — much valuable seed was sown, and the light of divine truth penetrated into many a be- nighted town and village. At length dark and portentous clouds rolled over the horizon. The Protector had entered into rest; his son was wholly incapable of taking the helm of public affairs. The exiled king, Charles II., declared his deter- mination to publish an amnesty for all political 1 See postscript to The True FaM of the GaftpeiyftPeace, British Museum. 2 Vol. ii., p. 201. offences ; and from Breda issued his proclamation for liberty of conscience, and the kingdom was cajoled and sold. The king was scarcely seated on his throne, and armed with power, when he threw off the mask. Men who had faithfully performed very painful duties under the authority of Acts of Parliament were put to death, others im- prisoned and transported, and uniformity in religion was re-enacted under ferocious penalties. Bunyan was to endure a cruel imprisonment, with all the fears of an ignominious death. 'Now,' he says, ' as Satan laboured by reproaches and slanders, to make me vile among my countrymen, that if possible my preaching might be made of none effect, so there was added hereto a long and tedious imprisonment, that thereby I might be frighted from my service for Christ, and the world terrified and made afraid to hear me preach, of which I shall in the next place give you a brief account.'3 THE FIFTH PERIOD. BUNYAN SUFFERS PERSECUTION, AND A LONG AND DANGER- OUS IMPRISONMENT, FOR REFUSING TO ATTEND THE COMMON PRAYER SERVICE, AND FOR PREACHING. ' 0 liappie he who doth possesse Christ for his fellow prisoner, who doth gladde "With heavenly sunbeames, goales that are most sad.' [Written, ly William Prpine, on his Prison wall, in the Tower) The men who arraign their fellows before any standard of orthodoxy, or claim the right of dic- tating forms of belief or modes of worship under pains or penalties, are guilty of assuming the pre- rogative of the Most High, and of claiming, for their frail opinions, infallibility. Such are guilty of high treason against the Majesty of heaven — and all their machinations have a direct tendency to destroy human happiness — the wealth of the nation, and that universal good-will among men which the gospel is intended to establish. Such men present to us the various features of anti- christ, the dread enemy of mankind. The duty of every intelligent creature is to watch the operations of nature, that he may be led to just perceptions of the greatness of the Creator, and the goodness of his immutable laws. Soon he finds his perceptions dim, and is con- scious of evil propensities, which baffle all his efforts at sinless perfection. He finds nothing in nature to solve the solemn inquiry how sin is to be pardoned, and evil thoughts and habits to be rooted out. The convinced sinner then feels the necessity of a direct revelation from God; and in the Bible alone he finds that astounding declaration, which leaves all human philosophy at an immea- Vol. i., p. 46. MEMOIB OF JOHN BUNYAN. slvj surable distance — 'Ye must be born again.' God only can elicct tbe -wondrous change — man, priest, prophet, or magi, can do him no good — his terror-stricken conscience drives him to his Creator, and faith in the Redeemer) causos con- solation to abound. In every kingdom of the world, the Christian inquirer is met by the opposition of antichrist, in some form or other, attempts will ho made to limit his free-born spirit to human inventions and me- diations in seeking Divine mercy. He feels that he is bound, by all his hopes of happiness, Here and hereafter, to obey God rather than man, in everything pertaining to spiritual religion. In his simple obedience to the Word of God, he braves all j dangers, sure of the Divine blessing and support i while encountering obloquy, contempt, allurements, and persecution, in its varied polluted forms and appalling cruelties. After the decease of Oliver Cromwell, it soon became apparent that the exiled king would he re- stored. In the prospect of that event, Charles II. promised a free pardon to all his subjects, ex- cepting only such persons as should be excepted by parliament ; and ' we do declare a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man shall be disquieted or called in question for differences of opiuion in matters of religion, which do not disturb the peace of the kingdom.' Who could imagine, that, in the face of this solemn declaration, acts, the most oppressive and tyrannical, would be passed — compelling pretended uniformity in belief and real uniformity in the mode of public worship — driving the most pious and useful clergymen from their pulpits and livings — preventing them from becoming tutors or schoolmasters — and not suffer- ing them to live within five miles of a city or town. E-uinous penalties were inflicted, not only on overy minister, but upon every hearer, who met to wor- ship God in private houses or in the fields and woods. Christians, convinced of the wickedness of such laws, strove, by every possible means, to evade the penalties, with a stern determination to worship God in the way that their consciences led them. They met their beloved ministers in pri- vate places, and at the most unseasonable hours. It is said that Bunyan, to avoid discovery, went from a friend's house disguised as a carter; with his white frock, wide-awake cap, and his whip in his hand, to attend a private meeting in a shel- tered field or barn. To prevent these meetings, severe and almost arbitrary penalties were enforced, a considerable part of which went to the informers — men of debauched habits and profligate prin- ciples. With all their vigilance, these prohibited meetings could not be prevented. In some cases, the persecuted disciples of a persecuted Lord took houses adjoining each other, and, by opening inter- nal communications, assembled togolher. In some cases, tho barn or room in whieh they met, had a door behind tho pulpit, by which the preacher could escape, A curious letter, preserved in tho archives at Devonshire House, states, that when a Christian assembly was held mar Devonshire Square, while tho minister was in his sermon, tho OJBOera and trained bands entered the meeting- house. The preacher immediately ceased preach- ing, and gave out the lines of a hymn, which the congregation joined in singing, and tho officers, waited till the devotional exercise was ended. Tho preacher, taking advantage of their hesita- tion, made his escape by a door at the back of the pulpit ; ' thus,' says the quaint Quaker; 'lie choked the informers oil" with his hymn.' In the Life of Lad-man are some illustrative anocdotcs relating to informers and their violent ends, with an inte- resting cut of a religious meeting in the fields. One informer is in a neighbouring tree, to identify the meeters; while in the distance, another is run- ning for the officers, with this vorse under the print : — •Informer, art thou in the tree? Take heed; lest there thou hanged be: Look likewise to thy foot-hold well ; Lust, if thou slip, thou fall to hell.' In many cases the justices considered a field preacher to be equally guilty with a regicide.1 One of the informers, named W. S., was very diligent in this business ; ' he would watch a-nights, climb trees, and range the woods a-days, if possible to find out the meeters, for then they were forced to meet in the fields. ' At length he was stricken by the hand of God, and died a most wretched object.2 The cruelties that were in- flicted upon Dissenters are scarcely credible. Penn, tho Quaker, gives this narrative of faots: — 'The widow's mite hath not escaped their bauds; they have made her cow the forfeit of her conscience, not leaving her a bed to lie on, nor a blanket to cover her ; and what is yet more barbarous, and helps to make up this tragedy, the poor helpless orphan's milk, boiling over the fire, was flung away, and the skillet made part of their prize ; that, had not nature in neighbours been stronger than cruelty in informers and officers, to open her bowels for their relief, they must have utterly perished.3 One of these infamous, hard-hearted wretches in Bedford, was stricken, soon after, with death ; and such had been his notorious brutality, that his widow could not obtain a hearse, bu1 obliged to carry his body to the grave in a cart. It is gratifying to leave these horrors — those stains upon our national history — for a moment, 1 .Maeaulay's History of England, vol. L an. s Pern's Englantfa Interest, 4to, 1073, p. 2. xlvii MEMOIR 0? JOHN BUNYAN. to record an event which took place about fifty years back. The Rev. S. Hillyard, the pastor of Bunyan's church, thus writes: — 'When our meeting-house was lately repaired, we were al- lowed, by the Lord Lieutenant and the justices, to carry on our public worship, for a quarter of a year in tbe town-hall, where, if it had been stand- ing in Mr. Bunyan's time, he must have been tried and committed to jail for preaching.' How different our position from that of our pilgrim forefathers. The justices, if the law had allowed them, would, from the first, have prevented Bunyan's preaching. When they had the power, he pos- sessed nothing to excite the cupidity of an in- former : this, with the caution of his friends, saved him, for some months, from being apprehended ; they met privately in barns, milk-houses, and stables, or in any convenient place in which they were not likely to be disturbed. In addition to these services, every opportunity was embraced to visit his friends — praying with them, and adminis- tering consolation, arming them with a steady re- solve to be patient in suffering, and to trust in God for their safety and reward. At length an informa- tion was laid, and he was caught in the very act of worshipping God with some pious neighbours. Bunyan's account of this event is deeply interest- ing ; but the want of sufficient space prevents my giving more than an abstract of it, referring the reader to his Grace Abounding for fuller details. On November 12, 1660, as the winter was setting in, having been invited to preach at Sam- sell, in Bedfordshire, he prepared a sermon upon these words — ' Dost thou believe in tbe Son of God ? ' Jn. ix. 35 ; from which he intended ' to show the absolute need of faith in Jesus Christ, and that it was also a thing of the highest concern for men to inquire into, and to ask their own hearts whether they had faith or no.'1 He had then been a preacher of the glorious gospel of Christ for five or six years, without any interrup- tion ; for, although indicted, he had continued his useful career, and through grace had received great encouragement and eminent proofs of the Divine blessing. Francis Wingate, a neighbouring justice of the peace, having heard of the intended meeting, issued his warrant to bring the preacher before him. The intention of the magistrate was whispered about, and came to Bunyan's ears before the meeting was held, probably to give him an opportunity of escape. His friends, becoming alarmed for his safety, advised him to forego the opportunity. It Avas a trying moment for him ; he had a beloved wife to whom he had not been long married, and four dear children, one of them blind, depending J Vol. ii., p. 593. upon his daily labour for food. If he escaped, he might continue his stolen opportunities of doing good to the souls of men. He hesitated but for a few minutes for private prayer ; he had hitherto shown himself hearty and courageous in preaching, and it was his business to encourage the timid flock. ' Therefore, thought I, if I should now run and make an escape, it will be of a very ill savour in the country ; what will my weak and newly converted brethren think of it ? If I should run, now there was a warrant out for me, I might, by so doing, make them afraid to stand when great words only should be spoken to them.' He retired into a close, privately, to seek Divine direc- tion, and came back resolved to abide the will of God. It was the first attempt, near Bedford, to apprehend a preacher of the gospel, and he thus argued with himself — ' If God, of his mercy, should choose me to go upon the forlorn hope, that is, to be the first that should be opposed for the gospel, if I should fly it might be a discouragement to the whole body that should follow after. And I thought that the world thereby would take occasion at my cowardliness, to have blasphemed thegospel/2 These considerations brought him to the noble resolution of fulfilling his duty, under all its difficulties and dangers. In these reasonings the same honourable decision of mind animated him which impelled Daniel, and the three Hebrew youths, to violate the wicked laws of the nation in which they lived, because these laws were opposed to the will of God. He and they, as well as the apostles, judged for themselves, and opposed statutes or ancient customs which, in their opinion, were contrary to the Divine law by which they were to be judged at the solemn and great day. Nor did they, in the prospect of tbe most dread personal sufferings, hesitate to follow tbe convictions of their minds. Some laws are more honoured in the breach than in the ob- servance of them. The law of Pharaoh to destroy the male children of the Israelites, in ancient times, and the present Popish laws of Tuscany, that the Bible shall not be read, are laws so contrary to common sense, and tbe most sacred duties of man, that ' God dealt well ' with those who broke them in Egypt, as he has ever dealt with those who have thus honoured him. The millions of prayers that were offered up for a blessing upon the con- fessors, Madiai, have been answered. Had they perished in the prisons of Tuscany, they would have joined the noble army of martyrs before the throne of God, to witness his judgments upon that persecuting church which has shed so much holy blood. When Bunyan was advised to escape by dismiss- ing the meeting, which consisted of about forty persons, he replied, ' No, by no means ; I will not »Vol.i., p. 51. . MEMOIR Or JOHN BUNYAN. dix stir, neither will I have the meeting dismissed. Come, he of good cheer, let us not ho daunted ; our cause is good, we need not he ashamed of it ; to preach God's Word is so good a work, that we shall ho well rewarded if we suffer for that.'1 All this took place ahout an hour beforo the officers arrived. The service was commenced with prayer at the time appointed, the preacher and hearers had their Bibles in their hands to read the text, when the constable and his attendants came in, and, exhibiting the warrant, ordered him to leave the pulpit and come down ; but he mildly told him that he was about his Master's business, and must rather obey his Lord's voice than that of man. Then a constable was ordered to fetch him down, who, coming up and taking hold of his coat, was about to remove him, when Mr. Bunyan fixed his eyes steadfastly upon him ; having his Bible open in his hand, the man let go, looked pale, and re- tired ; upon which he said to the congregation, * See how this man trembles at the Word of God.' Truly did one of his friends say, ' he had a sharp, quick eye.' But being commanded in the king's name, he went with the officers, accompanied by some of his friends, to the magistrate's residence. Before they left, the constable allowed him to speak a few words to the people of counsel and encouragement. He declared that it was a mercy when called to suffer upon so good an account ; that it was of grace that they had been kept from crimes, which might have caused their apprehen- sion as thieves and murderers, or for some wicked- ness ; but by the blessing of God it was not so, but, as Christians, they were called to suffer for well- doing ; and that we had better be persecuted than the persecutors. The constable took him to the jus- tice's house, but as he was from home, to save the expense and trouble of charging a watch to secure his prisoner, he allowed him to go home, one of his friends undertaking to be answerable for his appearance the next day. On the follow- ing morning they went to the constable and then to the justice. The celebrated Quaker, John Roberts, managed an affair of that kind better. There was plenty of time to have held and dis- missed the meeting before the constable arrived, and then he might have done as Roberts did — made the best of his way to the magistrate's house, and demanded, 'Dost thou want me, old man?' and when asked whether or not he went to church, his ready reply was, ' Yes, sometimes I go to the church, and sometimes the church comes to me.'*' When Bunyan and the constable came before Justice Wingate, he inquired what the meeters did, and what they had with them ; suspecting 1 Vol. i., p. 51. 3 This very interesting Memoir was published by the Society of Friends, 1823. VOL. III. that they met armed, or for treasonable practices : but when the constable told him that they were unarmed, and merely assembled to preach and hear the Word, he could not well tell what to say. Justice Wingate was not the only magistrate who had felt difficulties as to the construction of the persecuting acts of 35 Eliz. and 15 Chas. II. Had he taken an opinion, as one of the justices at that time did, it might have saved him from the infamy and guilt of punishing an innocent man. The case was this : — ' Two persons of insolent behaviour, calling themselves informers, demanded, on their evidence of having been present, without summons or hearing in presence of the accused, that a fine of £100 should be levied ; they were at the meeting and heard no Common Prayer ser- vice.' The opinion was that there must be evidence showing the intent, and that the meeting was held under colour and irretenee of any exercise of religion to concoct sedition.3 Mr. Wingate asked Bunyan why he did not follow his calling and go to church? to which he replied, that all his intention was to instruct and counsel people to forsake their sins, and that he did, without confusion, both follow his calling and preach the Word. At this the angry justice ordered his commitment to jail, refusing bail, unless he would promise to give up preaching. While his mittimus was preparing, he had a short controversy with an old enemy of the truth, Dr. Lindale, and also with a persecuting justice, Mr. Foster, who, soon after, sorely vexed the people of God at Bedford. They tried their utmost endea- vours to persuade him to promise not to preach ; a word from him might have saved his liberty ; but it was a word which would have sacrificed his religious convictions, and these were dearer to him than life itself. This was a trying moment, but he had been forewarned of his danger by the extra- ordinary temptation to sell Christ narrated in his Grace Abounding. His feelings, while they were conducting him to the prison, were so cheering as to enable him to forget his sorrows ; he thus de- scribes them — ' Verily, as I was going forth of the doors I had much ado to forbear saying to them, that I carried the peace of God along with me ; and, blessed be the Lord, I went away to prison with God's comfort in my poor soul.'4 Tradition points out the place in which this eminently pious man was confined, as an ancient prison, built with the bridge over the river Ousc, 3 Case and Opinion, under the head 'Conventicles,' British Museum. There is also a rare Tract, to prove that the Per- secuting Acts expired Oct. 24th, 1670. 4 Vol. i., p. 54. How unspeakable the mercy, that the persecutor cannot plunge his implements of torture into the spirit, nor prevent its intercourse with heaven ! A very deeply interesting narrative of all the particulars of this examination and form of trial, was recorded by the snf- ferer. See vol. i., p. 50. 9 MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. supported on one of the piers near the middle of the river.1 As the bridge was only four yards and a half wide, the prison must have been very small. Howard, the philanthropist, visited the Bedford prison, that which was digni- fied as the county jail about 1788, and thus de- scribes it: — 'The men and women felons associate together ; their night-rooms are two dungeons. Only one court for debtors and felons ; and no apartment for the jailer.'2 Imagination can hardly realize the miseries of fifty or sixty pious men and women, taken from a place of public worship and incarcerated in such dens or dungeons with felons, as was the case while Bunyan was a prisoner. Twelve feet square was about the extent of the walls ; for it occupied but one pier between the centre arches of the bridge. How properly does the poor pilgrim call it a certain den ! What an abode for men and women who had been made by God kings and priests — the heirs of heaven! The eyes of Howard, a Dissenter, penetrated these dens, these hidden things of darkness, these abodes of cruelty. He revealed what lay and clerical magistrates ought to have published centuries before, that they were not fit places in which to imprison any, even the worst of criminals. He denounced them, huma- nity shuddered at the discovery, and they were razed to their foundations. In this den God permitted his honoured servant, John Bunyan, to be incarcerated for more than twelve years of the prime of his life. A man, whose holy zeal for the salvation of sinners, whose disinterested labours, whose sufferings for Christ prove his apostolical desceut much better than those who claim descent from popes, and Wolsey or Bonner — those fiends in human shape. Bedford bridge was pulled down in the year 1811, when the present handsome bridge was built. One of the workmen employed upon the ruins found, among the rubbish, where the prison had stood, a ring made of fine gold, bearing an inscription which affords strong presumptive evi- dence that it belonged to our great allegorist. Dr. Abbot, a neighbouring clergyman, who had daily watched the labours of the workmen, luckily saw it, and saved it from destruction. He constantly wore it, until, drawing near the end of his pilgri- mage, in 1817, he took it off his own finger and placed it upon that of his friend Dr. Bower, then curate of Elstow,3 and at present the dean of 1 There were three prisons in Bedford — the county jail, the bridewell, and the tower jail. No decisive evidence has been discovered as to which prison Bunyan was committed. Two views of the bridge and prison are given in the plate at p. 63, vol. i. 2 Howard's Account of Lazarettos, &c. 4to, 1789, p. 150. 3 Elstow is a perpetual curacy or vicarage, worth at that time only £35 per annum ! forming one of the discreditable anomalies of the church, in the division of its immense re- venues. Impression of a Seal ou a gold ring5 found in the foundation of the old prison, Bedford bridge. Manchester, charging him to keep it for his sake. This ring must have been a, present from some person of property, as a token of great respect for Bunyan1 s pious character, and probably from an indignant sense of his unjust and cruel imprisonment. By the kind permission of the dean, we are enbled to give a correct representation of this curious relic.4 Bunyan was thirty-two years of age when taken to prison. He had suffered the loss of his pious wife, whose conversation and portion had been so blessed to him. It is not improbable that her peaceful departure is pictured in Christiana's crossing the river which has no bridge. She left him with four young children, one of whom very naturally and most strongly excited his paternal feelings, from the circumstance of her having been afflicted with blindness. He had married a second time, a woman of exemplary piety and retiring modesty ; but whose spirit, when roused to seek the release of her beloved husband, enabled her to stand un- abashed, and full of energy and presence of mind, before judges in their courts, and lords in their mansions. When her partner was sent to jail, she was in that peculiar state that called for all his sympathy and his tenderest care. The shock was too severe for her delicate situation ; she became dangerously ill, and, although her life was spared, all hopes had fled of her maternal feelings being- called into exercise. Thus did one calamity follow another ; still he preserved his integrity.6 Bunyan was treated with all the kindness which 4 He has favoured us with the following description of it : — ' The ring is of fine gold, very like in colour to that which has been brought into this country from California. The head is, 1 think, engraven, but the letters have not that sharpness about them which indicates the cngraviug tool ; and the I. B. are undoubted indents made after the ring was finished.' It is not the usual emblem of a mourning gift, for that would have the cross-bones under the skull ; it was more probably given as a special mark of esteem. Three things are certain — ] st, That if so valuable a gift excited the poor man's pride, its loss must have been a serious annoyance to one whose family was dependent upon his daily labour. 2d, His preaching talent must have been highly appreciated, before he was known as the author of the Pilgrim's Progress, to have brought him so valu- able a token of respect. But the most pleasing and remarkable reflection, is the surprising progress of good-will among men of various denominations, that a ring, worn by a despised aud persecuted Nonconformist of a former age, is now highly prized and worn, from respect to his memory, by a dignified clergyman of the Established church. 0 This was not his only ring ; he left, inter alia, all his rings to his wife. See p. lxxii. 6 After he had lain in jail five or six days, an application was made to a liberal justice at Elstow, named Crumpton, to release him on bail ; but he declined, fearing to give offence. He, however, so felt for this persecuted servant of Christ, as to sell him an edifice and barn, which, upon his release, was converted into a large meeting-house. MliMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN u many of his jailors dared to show him. In his times, inrpriseamegt and fetters e, ' Sir, excuse the vanity of an old woman, but I will show you how I sometimes spend a very pleasant half-hour.' She took down a portrait on canvas of her great forefather, and propped it up on the table with a writing-desk, with a looking-glass by its side. ' There, Sir, I look at the portrait, and then at myself, and can trace every feature ; we resemble each other like two pins.' 'Excepting the imperial and moustachios,' I replied ; to which she readily assented. It was the fact that there was a strik- ing family likeness between the picture and her reflection in the looking-glass. Another descen- dant, from the same branch of the family, is now living at Lincoln. He was born in 1775, and pos- sessed a quarto Bible, published by Barker and j Bill in 1641, given by John Bunyan to his son Joseph. This was preserved in his family until the present year, when it came into the editor's possession, with the following relics, which were, and I trust will yet be preserved with the greatest care : — An iron pencase, made by Bunyan the brazier, with some stumps of old pens, with which it is said he wrote some of his sermons and books; the buckles worn by him, and his two pocket-knives, one of them made before springs were invented, and which is kept open by taming a ferrule ; his apple -scoop, curiously carved, and a seal; his pocket-box of scales and weights for money, being stamped with the figures on each side of the coins of James and Charles I.1 These were given by Robert Bunyan, in 18-39, then sixty-fuur years of age, to a younger bra-neb. of the family, Mr. Charles Robinson, of YYilford, near Nottingham (his sister's son), for safe custody. He died in 1852 ; while his aged uncle remains in good health, subject to the infirmities of his seventy-eighth year. On many of the blank spaces in the Bible are the registers of births and deaths in the family, evidently written at the time. Those relics are deposited in a carved oak box. They were sold 1 As matters of curious interest to all lovers of Bunyan, we insert, in the accompanying paire, engravings of these relics, from drawings by Mr. Edward Odor. with the late Mr. Robinson's efTeets, January, 1853, and secured for me by my excellent friend James Dix, Esq., of Bristol, who met with them immediately after the sale, on one of his journeys at Nottingham. They are not worshipped as relics, nor have they performed miracles, but as curiosities of a past age they are worthy of high consideration. Everything that was used by him, and that survives the ravages of time, possesses a peculiar charm; even the chair in which he sat is preserved m the vestry of the new chapel, and is shown to those who make the pilgrimage to the shrine of Bunyan.- Ennynn's Chair. In the samevestry is also a curious inlaid cabinet, small, and highly finished. It descended from Bunyan to a lady who lived to an advanced age — Madam Bithray ; from her to the Rev. Mr. Voley; and of his widow it was purchased to ornament the vestry of Bunyan's meeting-house. -^S* Bunyau's Cabinet. The personal appearance and character of our pilgrim's guide, drawn by his friend Charles Doe, - The chair is engraved above, and it will be seen that it lias suffered some little dilapidation since the last -ravin- of it. The legs have been cut down to suit th of one "of his successors in the ministry ! I With regard to the pulpit, an old resident in Bedford says-'The e < ated John Howard presented a new pulpit in the room of the old one, which was cut up. Of part of the wood a table was made, which now belongs to Mrs. HUlyerd. lxxvi MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. will be found at the end of bis Grace Abounding; to winch is appended bis Dying Sayings — ' of sin — afflictions — repentance and coming to Christ — of prayer — of the Lord's day, sermons, and week days: "Make the Lord's day the market for thy soul" — of the love of the world — of suffering; — PERSONAL UTENSILS USED BY JOHN BUNYAN. Pocket-Knife, with spring- Larger Knife, without spring kept open or shut, by turning a ferrule. His Apple-Scoop, curiously carved. 'M .. Pocket-Box of Scales and Weights, for the purchase of old gold, and dipped or worn money, with the figures of the coin on each weight in the reign of James I. of death and judgment — of the joys of heaven — and the torments of hell.' How inscrutable are the ways of Godt Had Bunyan lived a month longer, he would have wit- nessed the glorious Revolution — the escape of a great nation. The staff and hope of Protestant MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. Europe was saved from a subtle — a Jesuitical attempt — to introduce Popery and arbitrary go- vernment. The time of his death, as a release from the incumbrance of a material body, was fixed by infinite wisdom and love at that juncture, and it ought not to be a cause of regret. His interest in the welfare of the church ceased not with his mortal life. How swiftly would his glori- fied spirit ily to see the landing of William, and hover with joy over the flight of the besotted James ! He was now in a situation to prove the truth of that saying, ' the angels desire to look into ' the truth and spread of the glad tidings. How ho would prove the reality of his opinion, expressed in TJie Holy War, of the interest taken by the inhabitants of heaven in the prosperity of the church on earth. When Mansoul was con- quered, the spirits that witnessed the victory ' shouted with that greatness of voice, and sung with such melodious notes, that they caused them that dwell in the highest orbs to open their win- dows, and put out their heads and look down to see the cause of that glory' (Lu.xv.7-10.)1 So may we imagine that the happy, happy, glorified spirit of Banyan would look down rejoicing, when, a few years after he had yielded up his pastoral cares, the seed which he had been instrumental in sowing pro- duced its fruit in such numbers, that the old meet- ing-house was pulled down, and in its place a large and respectable one was erected. And again, on the 20th February, 1850, with what joy would he look down upon the opening of a still larger, more commodious, and handsome meeting-house, bearing his name, and capable of holding 1150 worship- pers. One of Bunyan's pungent, alarming sayings to the careless was, ' Once die, we cannot come back and die better.'" If anything could tempt him, in his angelic body, to re-visit this earth, it would be to address the multitude at the new Bun- van Chapel with his old sermon on The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, or Good News to the Viled of Men. But we have Moses and the prophets — Christ and his apostles ; if we shut our ears to them, neither should we listen to a messenger from the New Jerusalem, When it is recollected that Banyan received the most imperfect rudiments of education in a cha- rity school when very young, which were ' almost entirely ' obliterated by bad habits — that he was a hard-working man through life, maintaining himself, a wife, and four children, by his severe labour as a brazier — and yet, by personal efforts, he educated himself and wrote sixty-two valuable religious treatises, numbering among them his inimitable allegories, The Pilgrims Progress and Holy War, made a Concordance to the Bible, and conducted important controversies. Preaching, Vol. iii., p. 2(J7. Vol. i., p. 714. while at liberty, almost innumerable sermons on the Lord's-days and week-days, early in the morning and late at night. Visiting his flock with pastoral care — founding churches in the villages, and even in towns and cities far distant from his dwelling — constantly giving advice to promote peace and good will, and rendering benevolent aid by long journeys! His whole life presents to us a picture of most astonishing, energetic perseverance. Every moment of time must have been employed as if he valued it as a precious trust, which, if once lost, could never be regained. Who of us can compare our life with his last thirty years, and not blush with shame ! The finest trait in Bunyan's Christian cha- racter was his deep, heartfelt humility. This is the more extraordinary from his want of secular education, and his unrivalled talent. The more we learn, the greater is the field for research that opens before us, insomuch that the wisest philosophers have most seriously felt the little progress they have made. He acknowledged to Mr. Cockayn, who considered him the most eminent man, and a star of the first magnitude in the firmament of the churches,3 that spiritual pride was his easily beset- ting sin, and that he needed the thorn in the flesh, lest he should be exalted above measure. A sense of this weakness probably led him to peculiar watchfulness against it. His self-abasement wa3 neither tinctured with affectation, nor with the pride of humility. His humble-mindedness appeared to arise from his intimate communion with Heaven. In daily communion with God, he received a daily lesson of deeper and deeper humility. ' I am the high and lofty One, I inhabit eternity! verily this consideration is enough to make a broken-heart: I man creep into a mouse-hole, to hide himself from such majesty! There is room in this man's heart for God to dwell.'4 'I find it one of the hardest things that I can put my soul upon, even to come to God, when warmly sensible that I am a sinner, for a share in grace and mercy. 1 can- not but with a thousand tears say, "God be mer- ciful to me a sinner " (Ezra ix. 15).' ° The Ptevs. Messrs. Chandler and Wilson, bear the following testimony as eye-witnesses to his character: — 'His fancy and invention were very pregnant and fertile. His wit was sharp and cpjick — his memory tenacious, it being customary with him to commit his sermons to writing after he had preached them,' a proof of extraordinary industry. 1 His understanding was large and comprehensive — his judgment sound and deep in the fundamentals of the gospel. His experience of Satan's tempta- tions in the power and policy of them, and of Christ's presence in, and by his Word and Spirit to 3 Vol. i., p. CSG. *Vol.i.,pP. 090,631. 4 Vol. ii., p. 261. lxxviii MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYAN. succour and comfort Iiira, was more than ordinary; the grace of God was magnified in him and by Lira, and a rich anointing of the Spirit Avas upon him ; and yet this great saint was always in Lis own eyes the chiefest of sinners, and the least of saints. He was not only well furnished with the helps and endowments of nature, beyond ordinary, but eminent in the graces and gifts of the Spirit, and fruits of holiness. He was from first to last established in, and ready to maintain, that God- like principle of having communion with saints as such, without any respect to difference in things disputable among the godly. His carriage was condescending, affable, and meek to all, yet bold and courageous for Christ. He was much struck at, in the late times of persecution ; being far from any sinful compliance to save himself, he did cheerfully bear the cross.' Such was the charac- ter given of him by these two eminent divines, in 1693, while his memory, in its fullest fragrance, was cherished by all the churches. This humility peculiarly fitted him to instruct the young, of whom he was very fond — ' Nor do I blush, although I think some may Call me a baby, 'cause I with them play ; I do 't to show them how each tingle i'angle On which they doating are, their souls entangle ; And, since at gravity they make a tush, My very beard I cast behind a bush.' l He had friends among the rich as well as the poor. Of this his solid gold ring and handsome cabinet are proofs. From a letter in the Ellis correspond- ence, we learn that Bunyan had so secured the affectious of the Lord Mayor of London, as to be called his chaplain. 2 Among his religious friends and associates he must have been a pleasing, entertaining, lively com- panion. However solemn, nay awful, had been his experience when walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, yet when emerging from the darkness and enjoying the sunshine of Divine favour, he loved social intercourse and communion of saints. It is one of the slanders heaped upon Christianity to call it a gloomy, melancholy theme: though ' it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting,' yet the wisely pious man will endeavour, even at an elegant entertain- ment or a Lord Mayor's dinner, to drop useful hints. Whenever Bunyan describes a social party, espe- * Vol. iii., p. 748. - It is noticed, in a letter to the Secretary for Ireland, dated September -6, 108S — 'On teusday last died the Lord Mayor Sir Jno Shorter. A few days before died Bunuian his lordbhip's teacher or chaplain a man said to be gifted that way though once a cobler.'* We can excuse the sarcasm of a Roman Catholic, and with equal good nature, and more truth, remark, that the great and eminent pope, Sixtus V., was once a swine- herd— not a bad school in which to study how to keep up a despotic sway over the Papacy. * Ellis' Cor., vol. ii., p. 1CL cially a feast, he always introduces a wholesome dish ; and it is singular, in the abundance of pub- lications, that we have not been favoured with JuJui Bunyan s Nuts to Crack at Religious Enter- tainments, or a Collection of his Pious Puddles. Thus, at the splendid royal feast given to Em- manuel, when he entered Mansoul in triumph, ' he entertained the town with some curious riddles, of -secrets drawn up by his father's secretary, hj the skill and wisdom of Sliaddai, the like to which there are not in any kingdom.' ' Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of those riddles him- self, but 0 how were they lightened ! They saw what they never saw, they could not have thought that such rarities could have been couched in such few and ordinary words. The lamb, the sacrifice, the rock, the door, the way.'3 ' The second Adam was before the first, and the second covenant was before the first.'4 ' Was Adam bad before he eat the forbidden fruit?'5 ' How can a man say his prayers without a word being read or uttered?'6 ' How do men speak with their feet? ' Answer, rr. vi. is.' 7 " Why was the brazen laver made of the women's looking-glasses?'8 'How can we com- prehend that which cannot be comprehended, or know that which passeth knowledge?'9 "Who was the founder of the state or priestly domination over religion?'10 What is meant by the drum of Diabolus .and other riddles mentioned in The Holy War?11 The poetical riddles in The Pilgrim's Progress are very striking — ' A man there was, though some did couut him mad, The more he cast away, the more he had.' How can ' evil make the soul from evil turn."2 Can 'sin be driven out of the world by suffering?'18 ' Though it may seem to some a riddle, We use to light our candles at the middle.' M 'What men die two deaths at once?'15 ' Are men ever in heaven and on earth at the same time? ' 10 'Can a beggar be worth ten thousand a-ycar and not know it?'17 He even introduced a dance upon the destruc- tion of Despair, Mr. Eeady-to-halt, with his part- ner Miss Much-afraid, while Christiana and Mercy furnished the music. ' True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand ; but I promise you he footed it well. Also the girl was to be com- mended, for she answered the music handsomely.' Is this the gloomy fanaticism of a Puritan divine ? " Vol. iii., p. 30S. 4 Law and Grace, marg., vol. i., p. 524. 0 Vol. ii., p. 051. G Vol. i., pp. 634, 635. 7 Vol. ii., p. 653. e Vol. i., p. 647. y Vol. ii., p. 15. 10 Vol. ii., p. 497. " Vol. iii., p. 251. 1'-' Emblem xiv., vol. iii., p. 751. 13 Christ is made known by the sufferings of his saints, vol. ii., p. 701, and note. 14 Vol. iii., p. 751, and note. 15 Vol. iii., p. 595. 1G Vol. ii., p. 22. l' Vol. ii., p. 257. MEMOIR OP JOHN BUN YAW lxxlx It is true, that promiscuous dancing, or any other amusement tending to evil, he hail given up and discountenanced, but all his writings tend to prove that the Christian only can rationally and piously enjoy the world that now is, while living in the delightful hope of hliss in that which is to come. Bunyan's personal appearance and character was drawn by his friend Mr. Doe. ' He appeared in countenance stern and rough, but was mild and affable ; loving to reconcilo differences and make friendships. He made it his study, above all other tilings, not to give occasion of oil'ence. In his family he kept a very strict discipline in prayer and exhortations. lie had a sharp, quick eye, and an excellent discerning of persons ; of good judgment and quick wit. Tall in stature, strong-boned ; somewhat of a ruddy face with sparkling eyes ; his hair reddish, but sprinkled with gray: nose well set ; mouth moderately large ; forehead some- thing high, and his habit always plain and modest. My determination in writing this memoir has been to follow the scriptural example, by fairly recording every defect discoverable in Bunyan's character; but what were considered by some to be blemishes, after his conversion, appear, in my estimation, to be beauties. His moral and religious character was irreproachable, and his doctrinal views most scriptural ; all agree in this, that he was a bright and shining light ; unrivalled for his allegories, and for the vast amount of his useful- ness. His friend, Mr. Wilson, says, • Though his enemies and persecutors, in his lifetime, did what they could to vilify and reproach him, yet, being gone, he that before had the testimony of their consciences, hath now their actual commendation and applause.'1 To this we may add, that he was without sectarianism, a most decided Bible Christian. This reveals the secret of his striking phraseology. It was in the sacred pages of Di- » Works, iulio,lU'J3k vine truth that he learned grammar and rhetoric. Style, and all his knowledge of the powers i ; guage — all were derived from the only source of his religious wisdom and learning. He lived, and thought, and wrote under the influence of tli oracles, translated by the Puritans in 1/HJO, com- pared with the version of 1G11. Tliis gives a charm to all his works, and suit3 them to every human capacity. Reader, the object of biography is to excite emulation. Why should not others arise as er- ly to bless the world as Banyan did ? The storehouses of heaven from which he was replen- ished with holy treasures, are inexhaustible. As he said, 'God has bags of mercy yet unsealed.' We have the same holy oracles, and the same mercy-seat. The time is past for merely challeng- ing the right to personal judgment of religious truths. In Britain the lions are securely chained, and the cruel giants disabled. The awful crime of imprisoning and torturing man for conscience' sake, exists only in kingdoms where darkness reigns — "Mcmgst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.' We stand upon higher ground than our fore- fathers ; we take our more solemn stand upon the imperative duty of personal investigation — that no one can claim the name of Christian, unless he has laid aside all national, or family, or edu- cational prejudices, and drawn from the holy oracles alone all his scheme of salvation and roles of conduct. All the secret of Bunyan's vast use- fulness, the foundation of all his honour, is, that the fear of God swallowed up the fear of man ; that he was baptized into the truths of revelation, and lived to exemplify them. He was a bright and shining light in a benighted world ; and of him it may be most emphatically said, ' Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, that they may rest from their labours ; and their works uo follow them.' GEORGE OFFOR. TTackney, -Tune, 18531 COPY OF THE PROPOSALS FOR PUBLISHING ALL BUNYAN'S WORKS, ISSUED VERY SHORTLY AFTER HIS DECEASE. 12. C. 1.3**. The original, on a small folio sheet, is preserved in the British museum ; 21 The first volume only vras published, containing the twenty books as advertised, 1692. &fyz labours oi Sofcn Buugan, author at the pilgrim's |3roi$rc£S, late minister of the Gospel and Pastor of the congregation at Bedford, collected, and to be printed in folio, by procurement of his church and friends, and by his own approbation before his death, that these his Christian ministerial labours, may be preserved in the world. He was an eminent convert, and experienced cbristian. He was an excellent, eminent, and famous gospel minister. He hath suffered twelve years' imprisonment for gospel preaching. His books have sold admirably well. And he behaved himself wisely, plainly, courageously as a follower of the great apostle Paul, as he was a follower of Christ. And therefore all christian people may reckon themselves obliged to preserve these his labours by subscribing for a folio. This folio will contain ten of bis excellent manuscripts, prepared for the press before his death. And ten of his choice books already printed, but long ago, and not now to be had. Their titles are as followeth, viz. Manuscripts. Paul's departure and crown. Israel's Hope encouraged. Desires of the righteous granted. The Saint's priviledge and profit. UooLs formerly Printed. Gospel truths opened. Light for them in darkness. Instructions for the Ignorant. A map of Salvation, &c. For Printing whereof it is Proposed, I. That the Author's Effigies shall be engraven in copper, and prefixt before the book. II. That this book will contain about one hundred and forty sheets, in folio ; for paper aud print the same writh these proposals. III. That the subscribers to pay ten shillings a book, viz., five shillings down, and five shillings at the delivery of a perfect book unbound. IV. For encouragement of them that shall get subscriptions for six books, they shall have a seventh gratis. V. That as soon as three hundred subscriptions is brought in, the book shall be finished in six months after. The undertaker is William Marshall, at the Bible, in Newgate Street, London, where proposals are to be had, and receipts for subscription-money given; and care shall be taken that it shall be well corrected. It is desired, that those that will encourage so good a work, would speedily send in the first payment of their money to those persons undernamed, who will give receipts for the same. An Exposition on the ten first chap ters of Genesis. Justification by imputed righteous ness. Saved by Grace. Christian Behaviour. A Discourse of Prayer. The Straight Gate. Christ a compleat Saviour. Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love. The House of the Forest of Lebanon. A description of Antichrist. The new Jerusalem. The Resurrection. Mr. John Strudwick, Grocer, at the Star, at Hol- born Bridge. Mr. Charles Dew, at the Boar's head, in the Borough, in Southwark. Mr. Chandler, minister, and Mr. "William Nichols, in Bedford. Mr. Edward Den of Cranfield. Nicholas Mayland of Gamlygay. Mr. Luke Astwood of Potton. Mr. Samuel Hensman of Brantery. Mr. James Collidge in Cambridge. Mr. Pack of Exeter. Mr. John Clark of Gilford. Mr. Masey of Harborough. Mr. William Hensmon of Wellingborough. Mr. Sorey of Lancashire. Mr. Chandler of Malborough. Mr. Grifeth and Mr. Pool in Lanviling. To the churches of Bristol and Canterbury, the said William Marshall, the undertaker, does promise, that the subscribers shall have them well bound in good calves' leather, for two shillings a piece. jTEfT* Likewise those books following, concerning Church Government, lately published, are sold at the Bible, in Newgate Street : Dr. Owen of the Nature of a Gospel Church, and its Government, bound, 3s. ; Ecclesiasticum, or a Plain and Familiar Christian Conference, concerning Gospel Churches and Orders, by Dr. Chaney, bound, Is. The Interest of Churches, stitched, 6d. Dr. Owen's brief Instruction in the Worship of God, bound, Is. A Declaration of the Faith and Order owned and practised in the congregational churches in England, agreed upon, and consented unto, by their Elders and Messengers at the Savoy, which is now agreed on by this late agreement of the churches, bound, 10c?. Those churches that take numbers, shall have them cheaper. Where you may have Caryl on Job, in two vols, in folio, cheap ; and, likewise, ministers that wTould supply their studies cheap, may have Pool's Synopsis, Latin, on the New Testament, in two large volumes, with the Index ; both well bound, for 30s. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS THIS WOULD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME: DEI IVI VIM I MIIR THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. WHEREIN IS DISCOVERED THE MANNER OF HIS SETTING OUT, HIS DANGEROUS JOURNEY AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. I have used similitudes' — Ilosea xii. 10. LICENSED AND ENTERED ACCORDING TO ORDER. Loudon: Printed lor Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, 1678. Now faithfully republished with all the additions and con-eel ions made by the Author to the lime of his decease ii August 16S8. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. CHAPTER I. LIFE A PILGRIMAGE THROUGH A STATE OF SPIRITUAL CON- FLICTS— 'THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS' A GUIDE TO ALL HEAVENWARD PILGRIMS— THE AUTHOR FURNISHED WITH LEISURE TIME TO WRITE IT, BY BEING SHUT UP IN PRI- SON FOR REFUSING TO VIOLATE HIS CONSCIENCE. ' Art thou for something rare and profitable ? Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable? Art thou forgetful? "Wouldest thou remember From New Year's Day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies, they will stick like burs.' II any an's Apology for his Book. Tiie pilgrimage of life is a deeply-interesting subject, coextensive with human nature; every individual of our race is upon pilgrimage, from the cradle to the grave. It is the progress of the soul through time to cuter upon a boundless eternity ; beset on all sides, at every avenue, and at every moment, with spiritual foes of the deepest subtilty, journeying from the commencement to the close of the course through an enemy's country, uncertain of the term of existence, certain only that it must terminate and usher us into an eternal state, either of exquisite happiness, or awful misery. How natural that every man's life should be called by its proper name — a pilgrim,! _ The patriarch felt this when he bowed before Pharaoh, and said, ' The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the vol.. in. life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.' Ge. xhii. 9. David sang the statutes of the Lord in the house of his pilgrimage. Ps. cxbt. 54. And after the lapse of ages, when the Volume of Inspiration was about to close, the Holy Spirit continued the simile in the apostolic epistles, 'and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.' Heb. xi. 13. As such we are exhorted, 'I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims, ahstain from fleshly lusts.' ire.ii.ii. 'See then that ye walk circumspectly.' Ep. v. 15. ' So run, that ye may obtain.' l Co. Ix. 24, These are instructions that reach the heart of every Chris- tian convert throughout the world; all are warned of the necessity of sobriety and vigilant watchfulness, ' because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.' l re. v. 8. ' He shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried ; be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.' Re. ii. io. All mankind arc pilgrims ; all are pressing through this world: the Christian willingly con- siders that his life is a journey, because he is seek- ing a better country; but the greater multitude are anxious to prevent the recollection, that tune is a preparation for eternity, and, in consequence of this neglect, they shudder when approaching the brink of the grave, into which they are irresistibly plunged. Although perpetual examples warn them that suddenlv, at a moment when they least expect the fatal catastrophe, it may befall them, still, as if infatuated, they make no inquiry of the Holy THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Oracles as to how they can escape the second death; hut take the miserable counsel of some ' worldly- wise man,' and seek a refuge in lies, which death will terribly sweep away ; or they wholly neglect any preparation for so important and certain, if not sudden, an event. All are on the advance ; time hurries on those whose pilgrimage is limited to the foul, but fascinating streets of the ' city of destruction, ' to their eternal doom ; while those whose anxious cries lead them to the Christian calling, press on in the narrow and difficult path that leads to the heavenly Jerusalem. To condense the instructions given to the pilgrim in the Inspired Writings into a map of the road, a guide or hand-book to the celestial city, a help to Zion's travellers, and a faithful warning to the votaries who crowd the broad road to ruin, was a labour of love for its vast importance, worthy of the highest powers of human intellect, the warmest Christian philanthropy. It is surprising that a work which so naturally suggests itself to the imagination, and which is of such universal interest, was delayed so long. The abstruse dreams of Jewish rabbies, the splendid figures and scenery that floated before the minds of Oriental and Greek sages, and the intense subtlety of the schoolmen of j the Middle Ages, were intended for a very limited class, excluding all but those who were their imme- diate disciples ; and all their instructions having a direct tendency to lead them from the highway of happiness, to wander in the mazes of a senseless sophistry, or, to use the apostle's words, ' spoil them through philosophy and vain deceit.' It was a work that could only be prepared by an expanded soul, above all sectarian bias, by one who could, with unbounded charity, embrace all nations, all tongues, and every people, as brethren in the vast dominions of his God ; by one who felt that human happiness would not be perfect until this universe became the kingdom of his Christ. Such a hal- lowed and sanctified mind alone could furnish his fellow-sinners with an epitome of the way to the celestial city, equally acceptable to Christians of all denominations. To write for the instruction of the whole family of man, is not the province of a bigoted sectarian, whose visions of happiness extend no further than to embrace his own immediate disciples. Had ancient sages, or more modern schoolmen, felt their brotherhood to the whole human race, knowing that every individual, of all Sects or parties, is fulfilling bis pilgrimage through the short space of time allotted to fit him for an unbounded eternity, surely some of the great and illustrious philosophers of bygone ages would have attempted to complete an allegor}'', the outline of which had been given in the earliest of records — the Holy Oracles. No trace, however, has as vet been found in Hebrew, Oriental, Greek, or Latin literature, of such an attempt. The honour of producing this extraor- dinary work, in a surprising degree of perfection, was reserved to a later age, and was conferred upon an Englishman ; a man, as to human learning, un- lettered, but deeply learned in the school of Christ, and profoundly skilled in all the subtleties of the human heart ; upon a man connected with a deno- mination eminent for love of Christian liberty, and for hazardous, but resolute obedience and con- formity to every institute which they found in the New Testament ; aud therefore everywhere spoken against, and bitterly persecuted. This important work was destined to be accom- plished by a preaching mechanic, not vainly or falsely claiming, but really possessing the true evidence of apostolic descent in spirit and in truth, as his works and afflictions fully proved ; to a man, while suffering under the tyranny of Antichrist, whose judges and officers shut him up to languish in a noisome prison for twelve years and a half of the prime of his life ; thus vainly attempting to bend his free, his heaven-bom spirit, to submit, or pretend to submit, to what he considered to be popish and unchristian forms and ceremonies, and to compel him to conform to the church established by law ; having at its head, at that time, the most debauched monarch in Europe. He was apprehended while conducting the public worship of God, and sent to prison in Bedford jail. The indictment preferred against him was, ' That John Bimyan, of the town of Bedford, labourer, hath devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming to church to hear Divine service, and is a common upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great disturbance and distrac- tion of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to the laws of our sovereign lord the King.' To which he pleaded, • We have had many meetings together, both to pray to God, and to exhort one another; and that we had the sweet comforting- presence of the Lord among us for our encourage- ment ; blessed be his name therefor ! I confess myself guilty no otherwise.' No witnesses were examined, but a plea of guilty was recorded ; and his sentence was, ' You must be had back again to prison, and lie there for three months following ; and, at the three months' end, if you do not sub- mit, and go to church to hear Divine service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the realm ; and if, after such a day as shall be ap- pointed you to be gone, you shall be found in this realm, you must stretch by the neck for it, I tell you plainly; and so he [the justice] bid the jailer have him away.'1 This was soon after the restoration of Charles II., Bunyan's owu account of Lis imprisonment, vol. i. pp. 56, 57. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. when a persecuting hierarchy having been re-in- stated in power, revived obsolete and tyrannical laws. The mechanic, or fisherman, shall not preach or teach, was the sullen, stern voice of despotic authority. Unit, at the imminent risk of transportation, and even of death, the pious and highly-talented mechanic, John Bunyan, perse- vered in instructing the peasantry who came within the reach of his voice. He was for this, and for not attending his parish church, seized and sent to Bedford jail ; and, by the overruling power of his God, the means that were thus used to prevent his voice from being heard by a few poor labourers, opened to this persecuted disciple of Christ the path to honour, as well as to lasting and most extensive usefulness. Dragged from the arms of his atfectionate wife, who was brought to death's door by painful appre- hensions that his life would be sacriliced ; bereaved of the company of his children, and of personal communiou with the little flock of Christ to which he ministered, this holiest, most harmless, and useful of men was incarcerated in a jail, with felons and the most degraded characters. But 'surely the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain,' 0 Lord. Ps. ham. 10. Here he finds a resting-place, with leisure time to write his far-famed allegory; here, having com- mended his bereaved wife and infant family to the protection of the King of kings, even in that uex, with a conscience void of offence, and full of spiritual peace, he tranquilly reposed, waiting with resignation the will of his heavenly Father. How strange a dwelling for one so highly honoured of God! how unearthly a mode of fitting him for his glorious destination, to shine as a star in the heavenly firmament, and to occupy a mansion in glory ! He who thinks that happiness, or holiness, or true honour, is to be measured by temporal grandeur, makes a false estimate, and knows little of the ways of God. ' These walls and bars cannot a prison make, The freeljom soul enjoys its liberty; These clods of earth it may incaptivatc, "Wliilst heavenly minds are conversant on high, Ranging the fields of blessed eternity.' 1 The poor persecuted Christian was free from that mental wretchedness which cankered the souls of his persecutors ; one of these, named Fecken- hani, whose violent conduct will be presently seen, died miserably while Bunyan was in prison;2 and the Christian inhabitants of Bedford trembled under the thought, that his wretched end was one of the just judgments of Cod upon persecutors. We must lie, however, very careful in such conclusions. J'] very solemn event, in Divine providence, is not to be considered a judgment upon those who have offended God. Thus, when Charles 11. said t.> Milton, 'Your loss of sight is a judgment of God upon you for your sins committed against my father;' the intrepid poet dared to answer, 'Does your Majesty judge so? then bow much greater must have been the sins of your royal father, ■ that I have only lost my sight, while he lost his eyes, and head, and all !' Notwithstanding that Bunyan fully anticipated an ignominious death, his days were spent as hap- pily as the prison discipline would permit. Working to provide for his family — studying his Bible — in- structing his fellow-prisoners — and writing on the most important subjects — must have fully occupied every moment of his time. And it was here, in this den, that his vivid imagination conceived, and his pen wrote this wondrous Pilgrimage, under the similitude of a dream. And when it was pnl to the world, he by it preached, and is now preach- ing, not merely to a few villagers in the neighbour hood of Bedford, but is making known the glad tidings of salvation, the way of escape from the city of destruction, the pilgrim's path to heaven, to millions of every clime. Thus do the emissaries of Satan ever overreach themselves. So it was when the Bishop of London paid a large price for a few score of English New Testaments, to burn them. The money that Tyndale received from Tonstall enabled him to ' publish a new and superior edition, corrected ia I the translation, and which was extensively circu- ! lated. Some of these remain to this day,3 a monument to the faithfulness, the piety, and the talent of the translator, and to the folly of perse- cution. It led Tyndale to sing — • The devilish imps did strive to have For the Holy Book a burning grave, But all their travail was in vain, God midtiplicd it quick again. The pope and devil are scared and wondered, Their gold burns one, but makes a hundred.'4 The world would probably have heard but littlo of John Bunyan— he might, with thousands of similar valuable characters, have remained com- paratively unknown — had not the natural enmity of the human heart to the simple, but Divine truths 1 From a poem by Stephen Colledge, a preaching mechanic, written a few days before he suffered death, August 1681. 2 He was called, in Bedford, the grand informer. Such were the indignant feelings of his neighbours, that his widow- was unable to hire a hearse, but took his body in a cart to the grave. See Narrative of Proceedings against the Noncon- formists at Bedford, 4to, 1G70, ia the Editor's possession. 3 A fine perfect copv is in the Editor's library. 4 On an ancient painting of Tyndale, the martyr, in pos- session of the Editor. Under an emblematical del ice, on one side of the portrait, is the poetical description. The represen- tation is of a book tied to a stake, burning, while a number of similar books are flying out of the fire. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. of Christianity, excited wicked men to acts of per- secution. Crafty and designing priests, under the pretence of the sole cure of souls, engrossed the patronage of the state, enjoyed exalted dignities among their fellow-men, and appropriated to them- selves immense wealth. To preserve this worldly eminence, they sought to stay the onward improve- ment of the human mind, and the progress of Divine truth. To effect this ohject, they resorted to an old plan which had heen often tried, and had as often eminently failed. It was the ohsolete system of tyranny similar to that which cast the three Hebrew youths into the fiery furnace, Daniel into the den of lions, and had martyred thousands of God's saints— a system opposed not only to reason and common sense, hut to the operations of God in nature. It was to compel uniformity in modes of worship, and matters of faith ; to hind the spirit in fetters, and to prevent those personal inquiries into religion which are so strictly enjoined in the Word of God. The mode of a sinner's access and ap- proach to the throne of Divine grace, was limited to the same dull round of forms and ceremonies under all circumstances ; in fine, it demanded the entire prostration of the immortal mind before the claim of priestcraft to infallibility. Such a sys- tem required the support of violence and tyranny. Therefore it was enacted by law, that all should constantly attend the parish church, and go through the prescribed service, upon pain of fine, imprison- ment, transportation, or death. If any benevolent person, not connected with the sect of religion taken into partnership with the state, was detected in visiting and praying with the sick, teaching the ignorant the way to heaven, comforting the dis- tressed conscience, or converting sinners to holiness, he was doomed to imprisonment, that such useful labours might be stopped. By this time, the Bible, which for ages had been concealed, was widely circulated among the people; education had spread abroad the means of examin- ing those sacred pages ; while a holy ministry, under the Commonwealth, had extensively sown the seeds of life. Many felt the powers of the world to come ; hundreds of thousands had been taught the Assembly's Catechism, and had sanc- tioned the Confession of Faith ; while upwards of twenty thousand had become united in Baptist churches. Multitudes of godly men and women, of all denominations, were proving the sincerity and truth of their Christain profession by their harmless, benevolent, and pious conduct. The death of Oliver Cromwell let loose those ambitious and licentious spirits, which had been for some years kept under severe restraint. It opened the way for the restoration of the old system of ex- travagance, tyranny, and iniquity. Like streams long pent up, they now rolled on with resistless violence, filling their course with the tears ef the virtuous, and the oaths of the profane. The Puritans, by their simple habits of life, had secured many comforts, which excited the thirst of plunder, and the enemies of Divine truth en- tered with alacrity upon the work of wholesale persecution and spoliation. Among the first of those upon whom the hand of tyranny fell, was Jbhn Bunyan, a man who had determined, at all costs, to maintain his integrity. With the most inflexible devotion to his Saviour, he preferred death to hypocrisy, and would submit to no com- promise with the enemies of his soul's happiness and salvation. In the face of most imminent danger, he dared not pretend to believe that the priest could, by any ceremony, convert an infant into a child of God, and an inheritor of the king- dom of heaven ; or that one poor feeble, sinful man had power to forgive the sins of his fellow-trans- gressor. He dared not conform to ceremonies which were not commanded in Holy Writ. He could not unite with a system which, in his con- science, he believed to be directly and essentially opposed to Christianity ; inasmuch as it prevented free inquiry, and usurped the throne of God, in wickedly attempting, by coercive laws, to regulate or direct the mode in which the soul shall publicly worship the God of salvation. Bunyan refused obedience to laws that interfered with the sacred rights of conscience. His free immortal spirit was not to be confined by articles, creeds, and confes- sions made by fallible mortals. He persevered in his pious benevolent course, and the tyrants immured him in a prison. Here his God most eminently honoured and blessed him, and, by his providence and grace, consecrated him to be a guide and companion to Christian pilgrims of every country, and every age, while on their way from the city of destruction to their celestial and eternal habitation in glory. CHAPTER II. THE 'PILGUIJI'S PROGRESS' WRITTEN IN PRISON DIFFICUL- TIES THROWN IN THE WAT OF ITS PUBLICATION. The most important events have arisen out of circumstances very different to what reason could have expected. The great Lawgiver of Israel was a poor foundling. The Redeemer of the world was born in a stable. The sublime Revelations of John were written by an exile in a penal settle- ment. The universal guide to Christian pilgrims was the unaided work of an unlettered mechanic, while a prisoner for conscience sake. So unsearch- able are the ways of God : ' Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.' INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 'Out of the eater came forth meat.' Jn.xhr.14. 'The wrath of man sliall praise thee,' 0 Gotl ! How wretched is the state of those persecutors who, like Satan, are found fighting against the Almighty! To prevent the pious and talented John Bunyan from doing good, state religion shut him up in a noisome jail; and how remarkably was it overruled for the attainment of the very ohject they intended to pre- vent ! What fearful odds — the power of the state, priests and justices, armed with Acts of Parliament, to compel nniformityin faith and practice, are linked together to crush a poor tinker! he preaches the glad tidings of salvation to a few poor trembling sinners ; they are converted ; from being pests to society, they hecome valuable and useful citizens; it is effected in a ham — the pomp and ceremonies and vestments used in a consecrated building are set at nought. The kingdom of Christ increased, with all its hlesscd effects, without the aid of a learned education. God must be prevented from thus going with, and blessing his devoted and humble servant, in a way so contrary to Acts of Parliament and human pride; the justices meet — they warn their destined prey, and endeavour to cajole him into obedience and spiritual slavery ; he saw their hostile array, he knew their extensive powers — to imprison, transport, put to an igno- minious death. What could a poor tinker do under such alarming circumstances ? He had a refuge and a friend that they saw not, knew not. He took counsel with his God, and, while in the path of duty, felt that he had a wall of fire round about him, that all things must work together for good. He went calmly on his way. The warrant was issued by Justice Wingate, a name known only for this deed of iniquity. It was the first attempt in that county at persecution. The place at which the meeting was held is called Samsell. He was warned by the enemies of truth, in the hopes that he would fly, and that they might triumph. The jjosse comitatus was raised, and the liers-in-wait 'kept a very strong watch about the house;' his timid friends begged of him to fly ; he walked into a close, to hold communion with his God ; he went into the meeting with his spiritual strength renewed. When requested by his poor friends, who were alarmed for his safety, not to hold the meeting, he said, ' I will not stir, neither will I have the meeting dismissed for this. Come, be of good cheer, let us not be daunted ; our cause is good, we need not be ashamed of it.' He com- menced the service with prayer, during which he was not interrupted. He named his text: ' Dost thou believe on the Son of God V Jn. ix. 85; in- tending to show the absolute need of faith in Jesus Christ, and that it was also a thing of the highest concern for men to inquire into, and to ask their own hearts whether they had it or no.' But before he could enter upon this import- ant inquiry, the constable approached, produced his warrant, and put his hand upon his person. Bunyan looked at him; the man turned pair, with- drew his hand, and trembled; it was the jirsf vic- tim that he had arrested under those, wicked laws. After a few words of counsel and encouragement to the people, he surrendered himself to the officer; and upon his refusal to leave off preaching, the jus- tice committed him to Bedford jail, where he Lay, under a cruel sentence, for nearly thirteen years. We may easily imagine the alarm and misery felt by his affectionate wife and his four children, one of whom was blind, and the whole community of dissenters in that part of the country. Anti- christ appeared to triumph. It is very probable that his fellow-worshippers would humble them- selves before God, and, with broken hearts, inquire what peculiar crimes they had been guilty of to call forth this severe chastisement. They might call to remembrance the language of David, ' Thy judgments are a great deep;' and be comforted with his following words, ' 0 Lord, thou preservest man.' Who could have imagined that the jail was to be bis study, his Bethel, and the means of his preaching to millions of his fellow-sinners, in all ao-es and lam '0 the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out ! ' In possession of a strong bodily frame, and of that robust health which arises from incessant activity in the open air ; travelling about the country to obtain means of support to his family by his labours, and exerting himself on the day of rest by proclaiming in the villages the glad tidings of salvation ; from a state of incessant activity, he was suddenly incarcerated in a jail, situated on a bridge, and over the centre of the river ; the small damp dens being on a level with the water. Had he been sent there for crime, it might have rapidly affected his health and spirits; but he was called to suffer, that the cause of truth might be hon- oured, and the God of truth was with him to pre- serve his health, and to comfort and support his mind with those supplies of happiness to which the world is a stranger, and which it can neither give nor take away.2 1 See Preface to his ' Confession of Faith,' vol. ii. p. 593. 2 The bank of this river, Ouse, had been famous fur the mag- nificent mausoleum of Oil'a, king of the Mercians, one of tlie illustrious murderers and robbers of his time, from whom tlie Editor's family, in their foolish vanity, claim descent; bul this, as Camden savs, 'a more violent and BWifter Btream than ordi- nary in a Hoo"d swouped clean away.' Upon I erected, a pier was raised from the river to support I centre arches; and in tins pier was Bnnyan's This dark place, a lit habitation for cruelty.has also beenawept away. The eye of John Howard, in 1788, penetrated into THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. At the assizes, a plea of guilty was recorded ; and although numerous prisoners, charged with crimes, were liberated at the coronation of Charles II., his case did not come within the proclamation, and he appeared to he doomed to hopeless imprison- ment or to an untimely end. Happily, the regu- lations of the jail allowed him the use of his Bible and Fox's Book of Martyrs, and of the materials for writing. His time was beguiled with tagging laces to provide for his poor family; in praying with and exhorting his fellow-prisoners, and in the composing of books, which were extensively published, for the instruction of the world. He soon became, like Joseph in Pharaoh's prison, a favourite with the jailer, who was at times severely threatened for the privileges he allowed this prisoner for Christ. Among the books that he wrote in prison, we shall find that the most pro- minent and important one was the 'Pilgrim's Pro- gress.' Charles Doe, who was a personal friend of Mr. Bunyan's, and who called him ' an apostle of our age, if we have any,' thus narrates the fact in his IStruggler for tJie Preservation of Mr. John Bunyan's Labours:1 ' In the year 1G60 (being the year King Charles returned to England), having preached about five years, the rage of gospel ene- mies was so great, that, November 12th, they took him prisoner, at a meeting of good people, and put him in Bedford jail; and there he continued about six years, and then was let out again, 1666. Being the year of the burning of London, and a little after his release, they took him again, at a meeting, and put him in the same jail, where he lay six years more. And after he was released again, they took him again, and put him in prison the third time ; but that proved but for about half a year. Whilst he was thus twelve years and a half in prison, he wrote several of his published books, as by many of their epistles appears;2 as ' Pray by the Spirit,' ' Holy City,' ' Resurrection,' ' Grace Abounding,' and others ; also, ' The Pil- grim's Progress,' as himself and many others have said.' Mr. Doe thus argues upon the fact: this den, and he thus described it : — ' The men and women felons associate together ; their night rooms are two dungeons — only one court for debtors and felons — no infirmary — no bath.' — Howard's Lazarettoes and Prisons, 4to, 1789, p. 150. AY ell might Banyan call it 'a denl' The gate-house was pulled down in 1765, and the prison was demolished very soon after Howard had unveiled its gloomy wretchedness. The bridge was only fourteen feet wide ; the dungeons must have been small indeed. How strange an apartment did God select for his servant, in which to write this important book ! 1 A deeply-interesting paper usually appended to Bunyan's Works, folio, 1692. 2 Upon his first release from prison, in 1066, he published ' Grace Abounding,' and in the title-page states ' also what he hath met with in prison. All which was written by his own hand there.' The Preface to 'A Defence of Justification' is dated from prison, 1671. So his 'Confession:' — 'Thine in bonds for the gospel.' ' And I reckon I shall not be out of the way if I observe and say, What hath the devil or his agents gotten by putting our great gospel minister, Bun- yan, in prison? for in prison, as before mentioned, he wrote many excellent books, that have published to the world his great grace, and great truth, and great judgment, and great ingenuity; and to in- stance, in one, ' The Pilgrim's Progress,' he hath suited to the life of a traveller so exactly and pleasantly, and to the life of a Christian, that this very book, besides the rest, hath done the super- stitious sort of men and their practice more harm, or rather good, as I may call it, than if he had been let alone at his meeting at Bedford to preach the gospel to his own auditory, as it might have fallen out ; for none but priest-ridden people know how to cavil at it, it wins so smoothly upon their affections, and so insensibly distils the gospel into them ; and hath been printed in France, Holland, New England, and in Welsh, and about a hundred thousand in England, whereby they are made some means of grace, and the author become famous, and may be the cause of spreading his other gospel books over the European and American world, and, in process of time, may be so to the whole universe.' This agrees with Bunyan's marginal glossary, as to the place where he was located when visited with this wondrous dream. 'As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a den ; and I laid me down in that place to sleep ; and as I slept I dreamed a dream.' The marginal note to that 'place where was a den,' is ' The Jail.' This was first added to the fourth edition, 1680; he had probably been asked, what was meant by the den, and from that time, in every edition, he publishes that his meaning was, ' The Jail. ' That Bunyan attached much importance to these marginal notes, as a key to his works, is plainly stated in his verses to the reader of the 'Holy War:' — ■ Nor do thou go to work without my key (In mysteries men soon do lose their way), And also turn it right, if thou woidd'st know My riddle, and would'st with my heifer plough. * The It lies there in the window,* fare thee well, argeU * My next may be to ring thy passing-bell. No language can be plainer. The author wishes all his readers to understand where he conceived and wrote the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' He says that it was in 'a den.' He puts his key to this word in the window, and upon turning the key right, it discovers the den to be Bedford jail. In this dismal den he tranquilly slept ; like the Psalmist, he feared not ten thousands of people, ' I laid me down and slept : I awaked, for the Lord sustained me.' And why? It was because ' I cried unto the Lord,' 'thou, 0 Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.' Ps. m. Like INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. Peter, with a conscience void of offence, ' he slept while a prisoner in a jail.1 And although Bunyan had no angel from heaven to open the prison d 'a before him, he had that heavenly communion which i filled Ids soul with peace, and fitted him to write | for the instruction of mankind. The rapidity with which the conception of the 'Pilgrim's Progress' came over his mind and was reduced to writing, he thus describes : — ' .\iiil thus it was: 1 writing of the way Ami race of saints, in this our gospel day, Pel] suddenly into an allegory About their journey, and the way to glory. In more than twenty things, which I Bel down; This done, I twenty more had in my mown; And they again began to multiply, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that I already am about. ***** Tims I set pen to paper with delight, Aud quickly had my thoughts iu black and white. For having uow my met hod by the end, Still as I pull'd, it came ; and so I penn'd It down ; until at last it came to he, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.' This simple statement requires no comment. In jail he was writing some book of ' the way and race of saints,' most probably his own spiritual experience, when the idea came over his mind to represent a Christian's course from his conviction of sin to his arrival in glory, as a journey from the city of destruction to the celestial city. This is the opinion, very elegantly expressed, of Dr. Cheever ; ' As you read the " Grace Abounding," you are ready to say at every step, Here is the future author of the " Pilgrim's Progress." It is as if you stood by the side of some great sculptor, and watched every movement of his chisel, having had his design explained to you before, so that at every blow some new trait of beauty in the future statue comes clearly into view.' While thus em- ployed, he was suddenly struck with the thought of his great allegory, and at once commenced writing it, and in a short time his first part was completed. It may be inferred that he wrote these two books about the same time, because what he omitted in the first edition of 'Grace Abounding' he also omitted in the first edition of the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' but inserted it in the sub- sequent editions of both these books; one of these is his singular illustration of gospel truth from the unclean beasts, being those that neither chewed the cud nor divided the hoof — one of the conver- sations between Hopeful and Christian. This is also introduced as an addition to 'Grace Abound- ing/ No. 71. It was familiar with Bunyan to connect the term 'den ' with his cell in the prison. Thus, when narrating his spiritual imprisonment ill Doubting Castle, the Giant, instead of ordering his prisoners to their cell or dungeon, Ba; t, 'Get you down into your DEM again.' So also in the preface to ' Grace Abounding, 'he thus addre converts: 'I being taken from you in presence, and so tied up that 1 cannot perform that duty that from Cod doth lie upon mo to youward, 1 now once again, as before, from the top of Shauir and llenuon, so now from the lion's DEN - do look yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired haven.' The continuation of ' Grace A hounding ' was written by 'a true friend and long acquaintance' of Mr. Banyan's; ' That his good end may be known as well as his evil beginning, I have taken upon me from myknoaiabje, and the best account given by other of his friends, to piece this to the thread, too soon broken off, and so lengthen it out to his entering upon eternity.' In this we are told of his long imprisonment, and that in pri$oh he wrote the ' Pilgrim's Prog i'art. The mode in which it was written, and the u.-e made of it, iu illustrating his addresses to his fellow- prisoners, has been handed down by one of them — Mr. Marsom, an estimable and pious preacher, who was confined with Mr. Bunyan in Bedford jail, for conscience' sake. His grand-daughter married Mr. Gurney, the grandfather of the late Baron Gurney, and of W. B. Gurney, Esq., his brother, the justly- venerated Treasurer of the Baptist Missionary Society, and he furnished me with the following facts: 'Thomas Marsom was an ironmonger, and pastor of the Baptist Church at Luton; he died in January 1726, at a very advanced age. This Thomas Marsom was a fellow-prisoner with Bun- yan ; and my grandfather, who knew him well, was in the habit of repeating to his son. my father, many interesting circumstances which he had heard from him, connected with his imprisonment. One of these was, that Bunyan read the manuscript of the ' Pilgrim's Progress ' to his fellow-pri ^ing their opinion upon it. The descriptions naturally excited a little pleasantry, and .Marsom, wdio was of a sedate turn, gave his opinion against the publication ; but on reflection, requested per- mission to take the manuscript to his own cell, that he might read it alone. Having done so, he returned it with an earnest recommendation that it should he published.' How easily can we ima- gine the despised Christians in prison for their Lord's sake, thus beguiling the dreary hours. How admirably could the poor preacher illustrate his discourses to his fellow-prisoners by the various adventures of his pilgrims, il^ had receive,! calls to join more wealthy churches, but he affection- ately cleaved to his poor flock at Bedford- Sup- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. pose his exhortation to have been founded on these words, ' Freely ye have received, freely give ;' how admirably could he introduce all the Jesuitic sub- tleties of Bye-ends, Money-love, and his party, and refute the arguments they had been taught by one Gripe-man of Love Gain, a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. Imagine him to be exhorting his fellow-prisoners on the 'Terrors of the Lord,' and you would anticipate his leading in the burdened Christian, recount ing the awful dream of the day of judgment, at the Interpreter's house, and narrating his ad- ventures in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Or when preaching on the words, ' Resist the devil,' who like him could recount the fight with Apollyon ? These facts are placed before the reader lest any one should for a moment entertain a doubt which would cast a shade over one of the glories of the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' It is an imperishable monu- ment to the folly and wickedness of persecution to prevent the spread of religious principles. The enemies of the Christian faith imprisoned John Bunyan to prevent his preaching the gospel to a few poor people, and by it he preaches and will preach to millions of every clime. Keep these facts in recollection — the evidence of C. Doe who had it from Bunyan 's own mouth ; his own key — 'den,' ' the jail ;' the testimony of one who long enjoyed his friendship, published within four years of his decease ; the tradition handed down by a fellow-prisoner — none of which evidence was ever denied by the advocates for persecution. If we refuse such testimony, neither should we believe if Bunyan was permitted to come from the invisible world and proclaim its truth with the trump of an archangel. There are very strong internal proofs that the Pilgrim was written long before it was published. A second edition issued from the same press, by the same publishers, in the same year, 1678; and there is found a striking difference in the spelling of many words in these two editions, such as ' drownded ' is corrected to 'drowned,' 'Slow of Despond' to 'Slough of Despond,' ' chaulk ' to ' chalk,' ' travailler ' to ' traveller,' * countrey ' to ' country,' ' raggs ' to ' rags,' ' brust ' to ' burst.' This may readily be accounted for by the author's having kept the work in manuscript for some years before it was printed, and that he had at length consented to send it to the printers as he had written it. There is an apparent difference of twenty years in the orthography of these two books, which were published in the same year, besides some considerable additions of new char- acters in the second edition. The printer appears to have followed the manuscript as to spelling, punctuation, capitals, and italics. It proves, that notwithstanding his very numerous and important engagements, Bunyan found time to cultivate and improve his talents in composition, between the time when lie wrote the first, and published tli9 second edition. The reason why it was not published for several years after his release, appears to have arisen from the difference of opinion expressed by his friends as to the propriety of printing a book which treated so familiarly the most solemn subjects. ' Well, when I bad thus put my ends together, I show'd them others, that I might see whether They would coudemn them, or them justify: And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die. Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not so. Some said, It might do good ; others said, No.' Somewhat similar to this, was the conference of dissenting ministers when Sunday Schools were first attempted; the desecration of the Lord's Day was pleaded against them, and it was only by a very small majority that institutions were sanc- tioned, which advanced the spread of Divine truth with a rapidity as extraordinary as the spread of the missionary spirit, or even as is the increased speed of travelling by the aid of steam. Thus it was debated whether the Pilgrim should walk forth or not, fearing lest the singularity of his dress should excite vain or trivial thoughts in the readers, like the disturbance at Vanity Fair ; or it might arise from a fear lest the various char- acters and dialogues should be considered as ap- proaching in the slightest degree to the drama. It is impossible to account for the different feelings excited in the minds of men by reading the same narrative in which all are equally interested. In this case the fear was, lest it should tend to excite a light or trifling spirit, while the solemn realities of eternity were under consideration. In most cases, reading this volume has had a solemnizing effect upon the mind. Some have tried to read it, but have shut it up with fear, because it leads directly to the inquiry, Have I felt the burden of sin ? Have I fled for refuge? Others have been deterred, because it has such home -thrusts at hypocrisy, and such cutting remarks upon those who profess godliness, but in secret are wanton and godless. The folly of reliance upon an imper- fect obedience to the law for the pardon of sin, repeatedly and faithfully urged, is a hard and humbling lesson. It mercilessly exposes the worthlessness of all those things which are most prized by the worldling. No book has so continued and direct a tendency to solemn self-examination. Every character that is drawn makes a powerful appeal to the conscience, and leads almost irresist- ibly to the mental inquiry, ' Lord, is it I ?' No work is calculated to infuse deeper solemnity into the mind of an attentive reader. Well might INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. Mr. Macaulay in Ms review say, 'The allegory of Bunyan Las been read by many thousands with tears;' or as some pious man has written upon the fly-leaf of the fourth edition, 1GS0— ' Sleep on, good man, Continue still thy dreame. Your allegories do, I think, resemble Some laudskip vision At which souls tremble,'1 In addition to the serious opposition of his friends to the publication of the Pilgrim, we should also consider the author's other engagements. After so long, so harassing, so unjust an impri- sonment, much of his time must have been spent in restoring order to his house and in his church ; in paying pastoral visits, recovering lost stations which had been suspended during the violence of persecution, and in extending his devotional and ministerial exercises in all the villages around Bedford which were within his reach. Such was the great extent of his labours in that and the adjoining counties, as to obtain for him the title of Bishop of Bedford. As his popular talents became known, the sphere of his usefulness extended, so that an eye-witness testified, that when he preached in London, ' if there were but one day's notice given, there would be more people come together to hear him preach, than the meeting-house could hold. I, have seen, to hear him preach, about twelve hundred at a morning lecture, by seven o'clock on a working day, in the dark winter time.'2 Such popularity must have occasioned a considerable tax upon his time, in addition to which he was then warmly engaged in his contro- versy on Baptism,3 and in some admirable practi- cal works. These were probably some of the reasons why a humble, pious author, hesitated for several years to publish a work, on the practi- cal bearings of which his friends had expressed such opposite opinions. At length he made up his mind — ■ Since you are thus divided, I print it will ; and so the case decided.' 1 By Thomas Collins, written on the blank leaf of the fourth edition, 1680, presented to the Editor by Bullar, Esq., Southampton. 2 Charles Doe, in the Strugghr. 3 This controversy was, whether or not KY.fto--baptism is a pre-rcquisite to receiving the Lord's Supper, and who is to be the judge as to the mode of its administration. Some of the churches agreed with the Church of England as to their power to decree rites and ceremonies. Not so John Banyan. He considered that this question should be left to the personal decision of every candidate. The fruits of the new birth, the baptism of the Holy Ghost, which alone is the door of admis- sion to the Saviour's family, was, in bis opinion, the only question to be decided by the church, as a pie-requisite to admission to the table of his Lord. See Mat. iii. 11 j .Mar. i. 8; Lu. iii. 16; Jn. i. 26 — 33; compared with He. vL 1, and Ep. iv. 5. VOx.. III. CHAPTER III. bunyan's qualifications to write the ' pilgrim's pro. orlss' sanctified by prison discipline. That the author of the Pilgrim was pre-eminently qualified to write such a work is proved by its vast circulation, and by the extraordinary interest which it created, and has kept alive, for nearly two centuries, throughout the world. This ought not to excite surprise, when it is recollected that it was the production of a man profoundly learned in all the subtleties of the human heart; deeply skilled in detecting error and sophistry ; thoroughly hum- hied under a sense of his own unworthiness. He was baptized into the Divine truths of Christianity by the searching, -wounding, and healing influences of the Holy Spirit. Shut up for twelve years with his Bible, all the rags of popery and heathenism were stripped off, and he came out a living body of divinity, comparatively free from mere human doctrines or systems. The spirit of the prophets and apostles breathes in his language. His was an education which all the academies and univer- sities in the world could not have communicated. He was deeply learned in that ' wisdom that is from above,' Ja. iii. n, and can be acquired only in the school of Christ. His spirit was nurtured by close, unwearied, prayerful searching of the Word of life — by perpetual watchfulness over the work- ings of his spirit, and by inward communion with God. He knew well what was meant by ' groan- ingfl which cannot be uttered,' no. viiL 2G, as well as by being ' caught up, ' as it were, to ' the third hea- ven,' even to ' paradise,' and in his spirit to ' hear unspeakable words which it is not possible for man to utter.' 2Co.„xliT. 4. Previous to his imprisonment he had gone through every severe spiritual trial: with the Psalmist he had sunk in deep mire where there was no standing; the powers of darkness, like ' the floods, overflow me,' Fs. btix. 2; and with him he could also sing, ' I will extol thee, 0 Lord, for thou hast lifted me up,' rs. ixjl l; 'Thou hast brought up my soul from the grave,' Pa ixx. 3; 'lie brought me up out of an horrible pit,' Ps. rL 2 ; ' Thou hast healed me ;' ' Thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.' In his happier days, even while in a gloomy jail, he felt that he was an inhabitant of that invisible, holy, spiritual Jerusalem, the universal church of Christ, encompassed by the ' Lord as a wall of fire, and tho glory in the midst of her.' He lived in an atmosphere, and used a language, unknown to the wisdom of this world, and which a poet-laureate mistook for reveries, for ' the hot and cold fits of a spiritual ague,' or for the paroxysms of disease.' Ilis mind was deeply imbued with all that wag Southey's Life of Bumjan, xxxiL 10 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. most terrific, as well as most magnificent in reli- gion. In proportion as his Christian course be- came pure and lovely, so his former life must have been surveyed with unmitigated severity and abhorrence. These mental conflicts are deeply interesting ; they arose from an agonized mind — a sincere and determined spirit roused by Divine revelation, opening before his astonished but bewildered mind, solemn, eternal realities. He that sits in the scorner's seat may scoff at them, while he who is earnestly inquiring after the way, the truth, and the life, will examine them with prayerful serious- ness. In after-life, the recollection of these emo- tions filled his lips with Avords that pierced his hearers. When at liberty, his energetic eloquence had attracted to his sermons every class. It is said that the great Dr. John Owen was asked by the King how a man of his learning could attend to hear a tinker preach, he replied, ' May it please your Majesty, had I the tinker's abilities, I would most gladly relinquish my learning.' Thus did a man, profoundly versed in scholastic literature, and that sanctified by piety, bow to the superiority of the Spirit's teaching. The unlettered tinker led captive, by his consecrated natural eloquence, one of the most eminent divines of his day. Considering the amazing popularity of the ' Pil- grim's Progress,' and its astonishing usefulness to all classes of mankind, in all the countries of the earth, may we not attribute its author's deep and hallowed feelings, severe trials, and every lesson of Divine wisdom he received, as being intended by the Holy Spirit to fit him to write this sur- prising Dream ? Bunyan was a master of rhetoric, and logic, and moral philosophy, without studying those sciences, or perhaps even understanding the terms by which they are designated. His Bible (wondrous book!) was his library. All his genius was nurtured from the living fountain of truth ; it purified his style, and adapted his work, by its simplicity and energy, to every understanding. His key to its mysteries was earnest, holy prayer ; and musing over the human heart, and watching the operations of nature, afforded him an ample illustration of its sacred truths. His labour in tagging laces required no application of mind, so that his time for study was every moment of his life that he could save from sleep, and even then his ever-active spirit Avas busy in dreams, many of which contained valuable lessons, so that his mind became most richly stored, and was perpetually overflowing. ' The poetry of the Bible was not less the source of Bunyan 's poetical powers, than the study of the whole Scriptures was the source of his sim- plicity and purity of style. His heart was not only made new by the spirit of the Bible, but his whole intellectual being was penetrated and trans- figured by its influence. He brought the spirit and power, gathered from so long and exclusive a communion with the prophets and apostles, to the composition of every page of the "Pilgrim's Progress." ' ' , Human character was unveiled before the pene- trating eye of one so conversant with the inspired writings ; every weak point is seen, as well as the advantage taken by the subtle enemy of souls ; and all so admirably and plainly pictured that he who runs must stop, read, and admire, even to his surprise and wonder; and be constrained to in- quire, Whence had this poor mechanic such know- ledge ? Nor must it be forgotten, that in addition to his heavenly, he possessed peculiar earthly qualifica- tions for his important work. He had been the very ringleader in all manner of vice and ungodli- ness. John Ryland's description of his character is written with peculiar pungency : ' No man of common sense and common integrity can deny, that Bunyan, the tinker of Elstow, was a practical atheist, a worthless, contemptible infidel, a vile rebel to God and goodness, a common profligate, a soul-despising, a soul-murdering, a soul-damning thoughtless wretch, as could exist on the face of the earth. Now be astonished, 0 heaven, to eter- nity, and wonder, 0 earth and hell ! while time endures. Behold this very man become a miracle of mercy, a mirror of wisdom, goodness, holiness, truth, and love. See his polluted soul cleansed and adorned by Divine grace, his guilt pardoned, the Divine law inscribed upon his heart, the Divine image or the resemblance of God's moral perfec- tions impressed upon his soul.'2 He had received the mere rudiments of education, but vicious habits had ' almost utterly ' blotted out of his memory every useful lesson ; so that he must have had, when impressed with Divine truth, great deter- mination to have enabled him not only to recover the instruction which he had received in his younger days, but even to have added to it such stores of valuable information. In this, his natural quickness of perception and retentive memory must have been of extreme value. Having been mixed up intimately with every class of men, and seen them in their most unguarded moments, it enabled him to draw his characters in such vivid colours, and with such graphic accuracy. Filled with an inspiration Avhich could be drawn from the Bible alone, he has delineated characters as touching and interesting to us in the nineteenth century as they Avere to our pilgrim forefathers of a bygone 1 North American Review, vol. lxxix. 8 Buayaa's Works, 8vo. Preface by Ryland. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. n Rge, and as they will be to the Christian sojourner ■:' ages yet to come. It is a history, with little variation, of that which must always happen while Christianity endures. Bunyan had run the round of sin ; had sown the seed of vice, and brought forth the bitter fruits of repentance ; had felt intense alarm lest eternal torments should swallow up his soul in (hath; had i!ed for, and found refuge in, the sufferings of Christ. His burden removed, he loved much, be- cause to him much had been forgiven ; he had been brought up out of horrible darkness, and well was lie qualified to aid those who were walking through the dismal valley of the shadow of death ! His out-door habits and employments, and his sanctified contemplations on the beauties of nature, were calculated to strengthen the vigour of Ins imagination, and the decision of his character. Happily, the glorious Dreamer never appeared to have any idea of his own immortal fame as an author: little did he dream of the happy influence that his humble labours would have upon millions of mankind ; all his spirit centred in his Saviour ; all his efforts were to make known the glad tidings of salvation to surrounding sinners. If he coveted the tongue of an angel, it was not for brilliancy of language, but that he might use burning words to make an indelible impression upon his hearers. Even the greatest of his works he published under the humble similitude of a dream, or as that which had passed before his imagination, unaided by those mental powers which are called forth in com- posing a narrative intended for publication. His sixty humble books were printed without ornament, upon inferior paper, of the class called chap-books, from their being vended by travelling hawkers called chapmen, now magniloquently called colporteurs. John Burton, a minister, thus recommends Bun- yan, in an introduction to Some Gospel Truths Opened, 1656: 'Be not offended because Christ holds forth the glorious treasure of the gospel to thee in a poor earthen vessel, by one who hath neither the greatness nor the wisdom of this world to commend him to thee. This man is not chosen out of an earthly, but out of the heavenly university, the church of Christ, furnished with the Spirit, gifts, and graces of Christ. He hath, through grace, taken these three he venly degrees — union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan; which do more fit a man for that weighty work of preach- ing the gospel, than all university learning and degrees that can be had. Having had experience, with many other saints, of this man's soundness in the faith, of his godly conversation, and his ability to preach the gospel, not by human art, but by the Spirit of Christ, and that with much success in the conversion of sinners. ' His character and qualifications were also ad- mirably portrayed by his pastor, J. Gifford, soon after he entered upon the work of the ministry.' It is in his introduction to the first edition of a 'Few Sighs from Hell,' 1658, and as this inter- esting portrait was not inserted in any of the sub- sequent editions of that book, and has escaped the researches of all the biographers of Bunyan, I am tempted to give it verbatim, more especially, as it is generally believed that John Cifford was the Evangelist who directed the rilgrim to the Wicket Gate, put him again into the path when under the flames of Sinai, and prepared him for perse- cution at Vanity Fair. 'Concerning the author (whatsoever the censures and reports of many are), I have this to say, that I verily believe God hath counted him faithful, and put him into the niini- stery; and though his outward condition and former employment was mean, and his humane learning small, yet is he one that hath acquaintance with God, and taught by his Spirit, and hath been used in his hand to do souls good; for to my knowledge there are divers who have felt the power of the word delivered by him, and I doubt not but that many more may, if the Lord continue him in his work; he is not like unto your drones that will suck the sweet, but do no work. For he hath laid forth himself to the utmost of his strength, taking all advantages to make known to others what he himself hath received of God ; and I fear that is one reason why the archers have shot so soarly at him ; for by his and others' industry, in their Master's work, their slothfulness hath been reproved, and the eyes of many have been opened to see a difference between those that are sent of God, and those that run before they are sent. And that he is none of those light fanatick spirits that our age abounds withal, this following dis- course, together with his former, that have been brought to publique view, will testifie ; for among other things that may bear record to him herein, you shall find him magnifying and exalting the Holy Scriptures, and largely showing the worth, excellency, and usefulness of them. 4 And surely if thou shalt (notwithstanding this) 1 John Gifford had been a major in the King's army; was convicted for raising an insurrection in Kent, and m to die, but made his escape from prisou, and settled in Bedford as a medical practitioner. He was a great persecutor, but became, after his conversion, a Baptist minister, and formed his fellow-converts into a church at Bedford, about 1650, over which he was the minister. Bunyan joined this church m 1053, and eventually became its pastor in 1G71 ; and it con- tinues to this day a flourishing Christian chunk. II toral letter, written a short time before his death, is 01 I finest specimens of a pious shepherd's anxiety for t!.e happi- ness of his (lock that has ever been published. It was print.,! for the lust time in 1849, in A Brief lUstory of Bunyan t Church, by its present minister, John Juices, lute al»« Brooke's Liccs of the Furitans, vol. iii p. 257. 12 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. stumble at his meanness and want of humane learning, thou wilt declare thine unacquaintance with God's declared method, who, to perfect his own praise, and to still the enemy and avenger, makes choice of babes and sucklings, and in their mouthes ordaineth strength. Ps. via. 2. Though men that have a great design do, and must make use of those that in reason are most likely to effect it, yet must the Lord do so too ? then instruments (not himself) would carry away the praise; but that no flesh should glory in his presence, lie hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and base things of the world, and things that are despised hath God chosen. 1 Co. i. 27-29. Cast thine eye back to the beginning of the gospel dispensation (which surely, if at any time, should have come forth in the wisdom and glory of the world), and thou shalt see what method the Lord did take at the first to exalt his Son Jesus ; he goes not amongst the Jewish rabbies, nor to the schools of learning, to fetch out his gospel preachers, but to the trades, and those most contemptible too; yet let not any from hence conceive, that I under- value the gifts and graces of such who have been, or now are endued with them, nor yet speak against learning, being kept in its place, but my meaning is, that those that are learned should not despise those that are not ; or those that are not, should not despise those that are, who are faithful in the Lord's work: and, therefore, being about to leave thee, I shall leave with thee two scriptures to be considered of. The one is, Jn. xiii. 20 : Verilij, verily I say unto you, he that receiveth whomsoever I send (mark whomsoever), receiveth me; and lie that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent me. The other is, Lu. x. 16 : He that heareth you, hearcth me ; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me ; and he that despiseth me, desjoiseth him tMt sent me.' — I. G. Bunyan closes his own preface with these words, ' I am thine, if thou be not ashamed to own me, because of my low and contemptible descent in the world, John Bunyan.' This was altered in the subsequent editions to, ' I am thine, to serve in the Lord Jesus, John Buflyan.' His own account of his training perfectly agrees with that given by his pastor. In the epistle to his treatise on ' The Law and Grace,' about 16C0, he thus speaks: 'Reader, if thou do finde this book empty of fantastical expressions, and without light, vain, whimsical, scholar-like terms, thou must understand, it is because I never went to school to Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at my father's house, in a very mean condition, among a company of poor countrymen. But if thou do finde a parcel of plain, yet sound, true, and home sayings, attribute that to the Lord Jesus, his gifts and abilities, which he hath bestowed upon such a poor creature as I am, and have been.' Bunyan's great natural abilities required to be tempered in the school of affliction : and his ardent temperament met with no ordinary degree of chas- tisement ; his principles and constancy were tried by bonds and imprisonment ; his spirit, in the war- fare of controversy, not only with the enemies of his Lord, but upon minor points with his brother disciples. And with some of these he, after their wordy war, met in the same common jail ; united in worship before the throne of God; former wounds were healed, and heart-burnings sanctified; and he became more fully fitted as a guide to all pil- grims of every sect. He passed through every trial that his Lord saw needful, to temper his ardent spirit, and fit him to write his immortal Allegory. It is difficult to account for Bunyan's freedom from those popular delusions which so characterize the age in which he lived, and which spread over the most pious and learned of his contemporaries ; the belief in witchcraft, sorcery, ghosts, and goblin sprites, who, in his days, were supposed to ride upon broomsticks through the air, or 'dart through a key-hole swift as light.' Stories of witchcraft, haunted houses, necromancy, and such follies, are found in the pilgrimages of his day. Although Sir Matthew Hale, Cotton Mather, Baxter, and our most eminent men, were strangely full of faith in these fancies, even from that king who thought himself a mickle wise man, but proved to be a fool and a pedant, to the wretch called the witch- finder, who, by his perjuries, legally murdered so many poor helpless old women, for the rich were rarely, if ever, attacked. Bunyan's early habits, and want of education, and prolific imagination, must have peculiarly fitted him for all such vulgar errors; but he escaped them all. Was it that, after his conversion, the solemnities of the world to come swallowed up all other considerations ? or, was it the workings of the Holy Spirit, to fit his writings to be a blessing to future and more enlight- ened generations ? It is a remarkable fact, worthy of serious reflection. That a man possessing such extraordinary talent should excite the envy of some, and the bitterest animosity of others, is natural. ' The archers did shoot sorely at him,' and never was a man better armed to resist and crush his comparatively puny assailants. His sentiments and conduct, as to the profitable trade of preaching, were also calculated to injure him in the esteem of the clergy. Among many false charges brought against him, one was, the making merchandise of souls through covet- ousness. His reply was, ' Friend, the spirit that led thee to this is a lying spirit ; for though I be poor, and of no repute in the world, as to outward things, yet, through grace, I have learned, by the example of the apostle, to preach the truth, and INTRODUCTION I3Y THE EDITOR. 13 also to work with mj hands, both for mine own living and for those that are with me, when I have opportunity. And I trust that the Lord Jesus, who hath helped me to reject the wages of unrigh- teousness hitherto, will also help mo still; so that I shall distribute that which God hath given me freely, and not for filthy lucre's sake.'1 In those days, hard words and uncivil language were com- monly used in controversy, and Bunyan's early associations and singular genius furnished his quiver with arrows of piercing point. His moral character was assailed in the grossest terms ; he was called a wizard, a Jesuit, a highwayman, a libertine, and was charged as guilty of every crime; to this he gave a direct denial, and triumphantly pointed to his whole conduct since his conversion as a refutation of such unfounded calumnies. These malignant accusations are referred to and refuted in that thrilling narrative, ' The singular experience and great sufferings of Mrs. Agnes Beaumont,' contained in a deeply interesting vol- ume, An Abstract of the gracious Dealings of God with several eminent Christians, hy Samuel James, M.A.3 Another and very different tournament took place hetween him and E. Fowler, afterwards Bishop of Gloucester. He puhlished his views of T7te Design of Christian it y ; that it was merely the restoration of man to his primitive state. Bunyan saw his hook, and very justly conceiving that the learned divine had asserted some gross errors upon doctrinal points of the greatest im- portance, he treated the emhryo hishop just the same as if he had been a brother tinker, a mere man who was attempting to rob his (Bunyan's) beloved Master of one of the most glorious gems in his crown. In the almost incredibly short time of forty-five days,3 he, in jail, composed an answer, consisting of 118 pages of small quarto, closely printed, and in which he completely demolished the theory of this great scholar. It is entitled, ' A Defence of the Doctrine of Justification by Faith in Jesus Christ, showing true Gospel Holi- ness flows from thence ; or, Mr. Fowler's pretended Design of Christianity proved to be nothing more than to trample under foot the blood of the Son of God ; and the idolizing of man's own righteous- ness.'4 In this hastily written, but valuable book, Bunyan used very strong language ; reflecting upon a man of considerable influence, and one of his decided enemies. Of some of Mr. Fowler's senti- ments, he says, ' Here are pure dictates of a brut- ish, beastly man, that neither knows himself nor one tittle of the Word of God.'5 ' But why should 1 ' Gospel Truths Vindicated,' vol. ii. p. 201. 2 The public were indebted to Mr. S. J. Button for a new and handsome edition of this work in 1824. 3 Erom Eebruary 13 to March 27, 1671. 1 Vol. ii. p. 278. J P. 283. this thief love thus to clamber ami Beelt to nr0 to God by other means than Christ?'8 Mr. Fowler said, ' It cannot be worth our while to lav out any considerable matter of our heat, either for or against doubtful opinions, altt rabh modes, rites and circumstances of religion; it would be like tin: apes blowing at a glow-worm, which affords neither light nor warmth,7 and whatsoever is commended by the custom of the places we live in, or com- manded by superiors, our Christian liberty is to do them.'8 Bunyan knew the feelings of the clergy in his own neighbourhood, and he also knew that the Act of Uniformity had just turned out all the godly and evangelical ministers from the Church of England. To this sophistry, as to a Christian's being bound by the custom of the country he lives in, and by the authority of superiors, as to outward forms or ceremonies of Divine worship and religious teaching, our Pilgrim's guide thus breaks out into what .Mr. Fowler calls a Rabshakeh, ' I know none so wedded thereto as yourselves, even the whole gang of your rabbling counterfeit clergy ; who, generally, like the ape you speak of, lie blowing up the applause and glory of your trumpery, and, like the tail, with your foolish and sophistical arguings, you cover the filthy parts thereof.'9 To Bunyan's Treatise a reply was immediately published, and in it the gentleman and scholar complains of the uncharitable terms used by Bun- yan, and we are led to expect something polite and genteel ; but, unfortunately, the bishop in expect- ancy, or one of his friends, beats the tinker in harsh epithets, without answering his hard argu- ments. The scoffer calls our Pilgrim's guide 'grossly ignorant,' 'most unchristian and wicked,"0 ' a piece of proud folly,' ' so very dirty a creature that he disdains to defile his fingers with him;''" and yet writes a book in reply to him. He vaunt- ingly says, that ' Bunyan can no more disgrace the bishop than a rude creature can eclipse the moon by barking at her, or make palaces contemptible by their lifting up their legs against them."1 ' lie is not in the least concerned (so he pretends) at the brut- ish barkings of such a creature;' 'a most black- mouthed calumniator;'12 ' John Bunyan, a person that hath been near these twenty years, or longer, most infamous in the town and county of Bedford for a very pestilent schismatic;'13 and winds up 6 Vol. ii. p. 293. 7 Design of Chrhtianity, 8vo, 1G71, p. 239. 8 Ibid. p. 242. 9 'Defence of the Doctrine of Justification,' vol. ii. p. 322. 10 Dirt icipt of, 4to, 1072, title. 11 Ibid, preface. 12 Ibid. p. 2. ]3 Ibid. p. 3. This exactly agrees with the opinion of Jus- tice Chester, expressed at the assizes wheu Bunyan's wife so nobly pressed Judge Hale to release him:— '-My lord,' said Justice Chester, ' he is a pestilent fellow, there is not Bach a fellow in the country again.' — liehition of Bunyan 3 Ivapri. sonment, vol. i. p. 57. 24. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. much of his abuse in these words : — ' I now appeal to authority, whether this man ought to enjoy any interest in his Majesty's toleration; and whether the letting such firebrands, and most impudent, malicious schismaticks, go unpunished doth not tend to the subversion of all government ? I say, let our superiors judge of this." Bunyan had then suffered nearly twelve years' imprisonment, and was more zealous and intrepid than ever ; and yet this fanatic bishop would have had his impri- sonment continued, or his life forfeited, because he could not resist the arrows with which this prisoner for Christ assailed him, drawn all burning from the furnace of God's Holy Word. This was one of the lessons by which Bunyan was taught how to lead the Pilgrims in their attack upon the monster, Antichrist, which was very rampant, and looked upon the Pilgrims with great disdain; but these valiant worthies did continually assault him, until he became wounded, ' and it is verily believed by some that this beast will certainly die of his wounds.'2 How would it delight the church of Christ to witness his death, and to see his vile remains buried under all his implements of torture ; his inquisitions, flames, and stakes, dungeons and racks, halters and church-rates. Another, and a very serious lesson, he was taught in the con- troversy which he carried on with some Quakers and strict Baptists. Bunyan's controversy, which is said to have been with the Quakers, was, in fact, not with that highly respectable and useful body of Christians, but with persons whom he considered to be under serious delusions ; some of these called themselves Quakers. At this period, the Society of Friends were not united into a body or denomination. The battle, according to his own words, was against Satan, and those lies with which he had deceived some enthusiastic spirits. These characters were called, by Bunyan, a company of loose ranters and light notionists, with here and tbere a legalist, who were shaking in their principles, sometimes on this religion and sometimes on tbat. It is true that he talks of the Quakers' delusions ; but his fight was with principles, and not persons, and he sets forth what, in his opinion, were ' the lies with which the devil beguileth poor souls. ' First, That salvation was not fully completed for sinners by Christ Jesus. Second, Tbat the light within was sufficient without the written Word. Some of these visionaries denied the divinity of Christ; others asserted that Christ was born, lived, and was crucified within them, and that he was only to be found within themselves by the aid of that light which enlighteneth every man that cometh into Dirt loipt off, p. 70. ' Pilgrim's Progress/ Part II., Vanity Fair. the world ; that his being found in fashion as a man, and humbling himself to the death of the cross — in fact, that his personal appearance on earth, was only typical of his taking up a residence in the soul of every believer. Thus they entirely abandoned and neglected the written Word. They adopted some singular practices, lived upon bread and water, forbade marriage, and refused to wear hat-bands.3 Such were the adversaries against whom he wrote the first book that he published, called ' Gospel Truths Opened.' It was about this time that Naylor appeared ; and he, acting under the delusion of having Christ within him, rode on an ass into Bristol, while the mob strewed their clothes before him, crying, 'Ilosanua! blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.' And instead of reasoning with him, in order to remove this temporary delusion, he was cruelly tormented, imprisoned, pilloried, with its brutal accompani- ments ; burned through the tongue with a hot iron ; branded with a B on his forehead for blas- phemy ; whipped, and confined to hard labour. Mr. Grainger says ' that the discipline of a prison soon restored him to his senses;'* and we are inclined to think that he was mercifully restored to his right mind, because he was some years after- wards received into the Society of Friends, as a member, and died in their communion — a fact which the clergyman had not the honesty to state. Against this first work of Bunyan's an answer was published by Edward Burroughs, afterwards an eminent Quaker. In this, he fought, as Bun- yan called it, ' bitterly, with a parcel of scolding expressions;' and he advises him not to appear so gross a railing Rabshakeh ; and, in fact, he proved himself a match for his adversary with those weapons. He calls Bunyan ' of the stock of Ish- mael, and of the seed of Cain, whose line reacheth to the murthering priests, enemies of Christ preach- ing for hire.' Bunyan replies, ' These are words flung unto the winds by thee, my adversary.' Burroughs having thoughtlessly urged that there was not a Quaker heard of in the days of John, his keen antagonist replied, ' Friend, thou hast rightly said, there was not a Quaker heard of in- deed, though there were many Christians heard of then.' ' Your sister, Anne Blackley, bid me, in the audience of many, to throw away the Scriptures ; to which I answered, No, for then tlie devil would be too hard for me. ' Among other queries put to him by Burroughs, one was, ' Is not the liar and slan- derer an unbeliever, and of the cursed nature ? '5 3 Hat-bands were gay bunches of ribbons and rosettes fastened round the hat or cap. ' Room for the nolile gladiator! see His coat and hat-band show his quality.' 4 Biog. Hist, of England. 5 ' Vindication of Gospel Truths,' query 8, vol. ii. p. 209. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 15 Bunyan's reply was, ' The liar and slanderer is an unbeliever ; and if he live and die in that condition, his state is very sad, though, if he turn, there is hope for him ; therefore repent and turn quickly, or else look to yourselves, for you are the men, as is clear by your discourse.' This controversy, carried ou with great spirit and warmth, related much to that difficult question, Whether Christ continued his human body after his ascension, or was it resolved into a spiritual form ? These disputations, which led to a prayerful inves- tigation of Scripture, must have had a beneficial tendency. Banyan considered that his antagonist did not value the Holy Oracles sufficiently ; and Burroughs considered that too little attention was paid to ' Christ formed in us the hope of glory.' Both were questions of the deepest importance; and happy was it for those of their countrymen who witnessed the strife between these giants, and were led earnestly and prayerfully to search into these vital and important truths. The dispute presented much wholesome fruit, although not served up in silver dishes. Burroughs's friend, Howgill, bears this testimony of his worth: — ' Though thou didst cut as a razor — and many a rough stone hast thou squared and polished, and much knotty wood hast thou hewn in thy day — yet, to the seed, thy words dropped like oil, and thy lips as the honeycomb.' Bunyan held a public disputation with these zeal- ous missionaries in Paul's Steeple House, Bed- ford Town, May 23, lb5G.' This was a contest which involved in it a close examination of the Sacred Scriptures, and certainly afforded valuable lessons in fitting Britain's allegorist for his great and important work. Bunyan's difference of opinion relative to the terms of communion at the Lord's table, led to a controversy with the Strict Baptist churches, to all of which he was sincerely attached ; and this was probably one of the means by which he was enabled to write an itinerary to all pilgrims ; for it must have blunted the edge of his sectarian feelings, and have enlarged his heart towards the whole Christian community of every class. In the preface to the 'Reason of his Practice,' he dis- plays all the noble sentiments of a Christian con- fessor ; of one who has been deservedly called the Apostle of Bedford, or Bishop Bunyan. ' Faith and holiness are my professed principles, with an endeavour, so far as in me lieth, to be at peace with all men. What shall I say? let mine ene- mies themselves be judges, if anything in these following doctrines, or if aught that any man hath heard me preach, doth, or hath, according to the true intent of my words, savoured either of heresy or rebellion. I say, again, let they them slves 1 See Burroughs's Works, p. ^Ui. be judges, if aught they find in my writings or preaching doth render me worthy of almost twelve years' imprisonment, or one that deserveth to be hanged, or banished for ever, according to their tremendous sentence. Indeed, my principles are such as lead me to a denial to communicate in tho things of the kingdom of Christ with ungodly and open profane; neither can I, in or by the super- stitious inventions of this world, consent that my soul should be governed in any of my approaches to God, BECAUSE COMMANDED TO THE CONTRARY, AND COMMENDED for so refusixg. Wherefore, except- ing this one thing, for which I ought not to bo rebuked, I shall, I trust, in despite of slander and falsehood, discover myself at all times a peaceablo and obedient subject. But if nothing will do, unless I make my conscience a continual butchery and slaughter-shop, unless, putting out mine own eyes, I commit me to the blind to lead me (as, I doubt, is desired by some), I have determined, the Almighty God being my help and shield, yet to suffer, if frail life might continue so long, even till the moss shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather than to violate my faith and principles. Touching my practice, as to communion with visible saints, although not baptized with water, I say, it is my present judgment so to do, and am willing to render a further reason thereof, shall I see the leading hand of God thereto. Thine in bonds for the gospel, John Bunyan'.' At the end of this trea- tise, he severely alludes to the unfair practices of controversialists ; he signs himself, ' I am thine to serve thee, Christian, so long as I can look out at those eyes that have had so much dirt thrown at them by many, John Bunyan.' Kiffin, Denne, T. Paul, and Danvers replied to this 'Confession;' Jesse, and others, defended it. This led to the publication of ' The Differences about Water-Baptism no Bar to Communion,' and to the ' Peaceable Principles and True.' The controversy was carried on with sufficient acrimony to shake Bunyan's sectarian feelings, and to excite in his breast a determined spirit of 2oersonal, prayer- ful inquiry at the Fountain of Truth, in all matters, both of his faith and practice in religion, even at the risk of life. The principles of our great allegorist upon this subject have spread over a great number of the Baptist churches. Bunyan probably considered these sentiments as the precursors of the dawn of a happy day, when the baptism of the Holy Ghost, with purifying power like heavenly fire, shall absorb all these bitter waters of contention which occasioned such angry, unholy dissension among the churches of Christ; when the soul of every believer shall be imbued and immersed in sacred love and zeal for the honour of our Lord and tho increase of his kingdom, and the Bubject of water- 16 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. baptism, as a personal duty, be better understood and appreciated. In tins conflict with his brethren, all that sanc- tified penetration, that unwavering fortitude, and that determination, first to understand, and then to do his Lord's will, was displayed, that fitted the Author to write his surprising Allegory, and to be a • Great-heart' to guide and protect his weaker fellow-pilgrims. Soon after this, the prisons of England were filled with the most pious and virtuous of her citizens ; and when Bunyan and his antagonists, both Quakers and Baptists, were confined within the same walls, conversed upon spiritual things, worshipped unitedly their God by the same way of access, all former bitterness and animosities were swallowed up in the communion of saints, and the wall of separation was thrown down ; not only did their sufferings increase their catholic spirit and respect for each other, but they became a blessing to many who were confined for real crimes ; and when they came forth, it was with renewed powers to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ. Hundreds of poor, imprisoned, godly ministers felt the power of those words: ' Blessed be God, who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them that are in trouble. ' 2 Co. i. 4. Like Kelsey, a Bap- tist minister, who suffered seventeen years' im- prisonment, they could say — ' I hope the more they punish me, that I shall grow more bold : The furnace they provide for me, will make me finer gold. My friends, my God will do me good, when they intend me harm; They may suppose a prison cold, but God can make it warm. What if my God should suffer them on me to have their will, And give me heaven instead of earth ? I am no loser still.' Thus does Antichrist destroy himself, for whether he imprisons the Christian, or only seizes on his goods, he uses weapons to hasten the destruction of his own kingdom. CHAPTER IV. bunyan's release from prison, and publication of ' the pilgrim's progress. ' The reigns of the debauched Charles II. and the besotted James, those fag-ends of an unhappy race, were the most humiliating that these realms ever witnessed. Deep dissimulation,1 oft-repeated falsehoods, wilful and deliberate perjuries, were employed by the first of these royal profligates to obtain the throne. Solemn pledges to pardon political offenders were ruthlessly violated, as well as the oaths and declarations • that liberty should be extended to tender consciences on religious subjects, so that none should be disturbed or called in question for any differences of opinion in matters of religion.'2 The fanatic Church of England soon obtained laws in direct violation of all the King's oaths and declarations, such as the Act of Uniformity, the Test and Corporation Acts, the Five-mile and Conventicle Acts, and a revival of the old statutes for compelling all persons to attend the Church service ; and thus forcing the weak- minded to become hypocritical members of the Church which was then, and continues to this day, to be preferred by the state as best suiting its pur- poses. Among the rest was an Act ordering all the subjects of the realm, for ever, to meet in their respective churches on the 29th of May in each year, and thanking God that these kingdoms were on that day new born and raised from tlie dead :3 an Act which has not been repealed, but remains a disgrace to our statute-book. A hurricane of per- secution followed, and all the jails in the kingdom soon became filled with those of our countrymen who, by their virtue and piety, were the brightest ornaments of Christianity. While these barbarities were perpetrating, desolations followed in rapid succession. A fearful pestilence swept away the inhabitants of the metropolis, followed in the next year by a conflagration which destroyed the cathed- ral, and nearly all its churches, magazines, houses, and enormous wealth. Again, in the succeeding year, came a Dutch fleet, which took Sheerness, destroyed our shipping, and caused a degree of consternation thus described by an eye-witness, who was attached to the court : 4 ' I was at Lon- don in the plague and fire years, yet in neither did I observe such consternation and confusion in the looks of all men, as at this time, and with great cause: for if the Dutch had then come up to London, they had found all open to them, not one gun mounted at Tilbury Fort, nor one frigate ready in the river ; so as they might have forced all the ships in the river up to the bridge, and there have burnt them, which would certainly have fired the Tower and all the suburbs west to Black- wall, as well as Southwark below bridge.' Still the persecution of the Christians was continued in all its rigour. Bunyan was one among the first persons pun- ished under the sanction of these wicked laws. He was taken, seut to prison, and threatened with transportation, or the halter, unless he would 1 That thorough courtier, Lord Halifax, apologizes for him thus: — 'If he dissembled, let us remember that he was a king ; and that dissimulation is a jewel in the royal crown.' — Harris's Charles II., vol. ii. p. 16. 2 Declaration from Breda. 3 Meauing the restoration of the Stuart dynasty. 4 Mr. Roger Cook. Keunet's Ridory of England, vol. p. 265. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 17 conform, or pretend to conform, to whatever reli- gion happened to he by law established. This at, all hazards he steadily refused ; although, at that time, he fully anticipated being hung. Under such an awful impression, he felt exceedingly anxious that, suffering for the cause of Christ, he should meet death with fortitude, and be enabled to address the multitude that would come to see him die. ' And, thought I, if it must be so, if God will but convert one soul by my very last words, I shall not count my life thrown away, nor lost.'1 About this time twelve Baptists were sentenced to be hung for nonconformity. One of these was a widow, Mary Jackman, who had six children ; their reprieve was almost miraculous.2 Banyan's sufferings in prison were aggravated by his affectionate feelings for his blind daughter, and with tender apprehension he speaks of her in language of impassioned solicitude. ' Poor child, thought I, what sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world ! Thou must be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure the wind shall blow upon thee ! Oh, the hard- ships I thought my blind one might go under, would break my heart to pieces ! ' Then he casts himself upon the boundless power of his God, repents his doubts, and is filled with consolation. Such were the severe trials by which he was qualified to write the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' His wife was a partaker of his own spirit — a heroine of no ordinary stamp in so trying a situa- tion. She came to London with a petition for the release of her husband, which was presented to the House of Lords; but in vain. Time after time she appeared in person before the judges; and, although a delicate young woman of retiring habits, pleaded the cause of her husband and his children in lan- guage worthy of the most talented counsel; but all her supplications were fruitless, although Judge Hale was evidently affected by her powerful appeal, and felt much for her. * This courageous, this fine, high-minded English woman, and Lord Chief- Justice Hale, and Bunyan, have long since met in heaven ; but how little could they recognize each other's character on earth ! How little could the distressed insulted wife have imagined, that beneath the judge's ermine there was beating the heart of a child of God, a man of humility, integrity, and prayer ! How little could the great, the learned, the illustrious, and truly pious judge have dreamed that the man, the obscure tinker, whom he was suffering to languish in prison for want of a writ of error, would one day be the subject of greater ' Grace Abounding,' No. 335. Crosby's History, vol. ii. p. 184. admiration and praise than all the judges in the kingdom of Great Britain ! How little could ho dream, that from that narrow cell where the pri- soner was left incarcerated, and cut off apparently from all usefulness, a glory would shine out, illus- trating the government and grace of God, and doing more good to man, than all the prelates and judges of the kingdom put together had accom- plished.'3 How many thousands will in heaven search out Bunyan, to hear his own accounts of his sufferings, and how he conceived his wondrous dream ! Nor will they forget the wife whose ' Plain Man's Path- way'4 led him to his first inquiries after the Wicket-gate; nor his Elizabeth, who so nobly pleaded for him before the judges. The number of nonconformists who were impri- soned in these trying times, will never be fully known until the great day when all secrets will bo revealed, to the honour of the persecuted and tho infamy of the persecutors. They were of both sexes and of all ages, from the child of nine or ten years to the hoary-headed saint of eighty, who, bending and trembling over the grave with bodily infirmities, was driven to prison and incarcerated in a filthy dungeon. In Picart's Eellgious Cere- monies, it is stated that the number of dissenters, of all sects, who perished in prison under Charles II. Was EIGHT THOUSAND.5 As a sect, the Quakers were the most severely handled. Not only were they the ardent friends of religious liberty, but their principles led them to testify against oaths, a hireling ministry, tithes, and other ecclesiastical demands, whether by forcible or voluntary contributions ; and they taught that the work of the ministry was one of the purest benevolence, and not to be fulfilled for the love of pelf, or idleness, or worldly distinction. The law required them to attend the Church, and when there, roused by the foolish and wicked ob- servations of the priest, it was common for them to take out their Bibles, and denounce, in awful terms, the conduct of such blind teachers, who were leading their equally blind hearers to ever- lasting perdition. And for this they were impri- soned and cruelly treated. If some of the nonconformists occasionally interrupted the clergyman while preaching, tho Church party frequently did the same to both Baptists and Quakers. Thus it happened when Bunyan was preaching in a barn, a Church scholar, wounded by his observations, cried out, ' You aro a deceiver, a person of no charity, nor fit to preach ; 3 Dr. Cheever's Lectures. 4 'this book, with ' M. Bunyan' on the title-page, is in the Editor's possession. 5 Paris, lb09, torn. x. p. 71: * Iluit inolle dissenters de toutes les croyances perirent en prison.' 18 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. for you condemn the greater portion of your hear- ers.' Bunyan replied, 'Did not Jesus Christ preach to the same effect, when he described four sorts of hearers — the highway, stony, thorny, and good ground ? whereof the good ground were the only persons to be saved ? Do you mean to say that Jesus was unfit to preach ? Away with such logic ! ' The scholar rode away much better pun- ished than by imprisonment, for disturbing a con- gregation which he was not compelled to attend. Multitudes of Quakers and Baptists were con- fined for the non-payment of ruinous fines, imposed after the officers of injustice had swept away all the worldly goods that they possessed. In most cases they were treated with extreme cruelty ; some, even in the midst of the plague then raging, were dragged from their homes and families, and shut up in a jail little better than a pest-house, in which seventy-nine members of the Society of Friends,1 and a great number of otter noncon- formists died, and obtained a happy release from the fangs of tyranny. Upwards of eight thousand Quakers alone suffered imprisonment ; a and the record of those who died in prison, as preserved at Devonshire House, Bishopsgate, gives the fear- ful number of three hundred and ninety-nine per- sons of that persuasion only. At Carlisle, Dorothy Waugh and Ann Robinson, for preaching, were dragged through the streets, with each an iron instrument of torture, called a bridle, upon their heads, and were treated with gross indecency.3 A youth named James Parnell, aged nineteen, was treated with a degree of cruelty which, had it not been well authenticated, would have been beyond our credibility. ' He was thrust into a hole in Colchester Castle not so wide as a baker's oven, and at a considerable height from the pavement ; in climbing down to get his food, his hands being benumbed, he lost his hold, and fell upon the stones, wounding his head severely, and bruising his body. In this state he was beaten by the jailer, and thrust into a similar hole nearer the pavement. He was shortly released from further torments by death.'4 A memorial was presented to the King and his council at Whitehall, ' Being a brief relation of some of the cruel and inhuman usage, and great persecution and imprisonment of above four thousand two hundred and thirty of the people of God, in scorn called Quakers, for wor- shipping of God, and meeting together in the fear ot the Lord.'5 The summary of this frightful broadside, which gives an account of the number of Quakers in every prison throughout the king- dom, and is of undoubted authority, shows that 1 Hooke's Address to both Houses of Parliament, 4to, 1674. 2 Ibid. 3 Besse's Sufferings. 4 Ibid. vol. i. p. 191. 6 Devonshire House, in a volume of tracts 4>to, No. 57. such was the thronged state of the prisons, that in some cases they were crowded into so small a space that some had to stand while the others laid down. Many were taken out dead. To add to their trials, in Somersetshire the vilest felons were ironed to the poor Quakers ; all the prisons were filled with men, women, and children ; the aged and young, healthy and sick, were indiscriminately shut up with the vilest of ruffians, their clothes torn off; women taken from their beds in the night, and driven along the dirty roads in winter to prison ; sixty-eight thrust into a small room, with- out bread or water, some of the women being in the most trying and delicate state ; many in chains and fetters, wallowing in indescribable filth. Sixty of these Quakers were at one time confined, with John Bunyan and his friends, in the prison on Bedford Bridge. In • Some Account of the Life and Death of Mr. John Bunyan,' prefixed to his works, 2 vols, folio, 1737, p. xii., we find that 'sixty Dissenters were at one time put in Bed- ford jail for attending a religious meeting at Kaistoe, in addition to Bunyan and the usual pri- soners, among whom were two eminent dissenting ministers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dun. Amidst all this hurry, Bunyan preached and prayed among them in a mighty spirit of faith and overflowing of Divine assistance, which made me stand and wonder.'6 In one place of confinement in that county, 'fifty are in a close and strait place, where many are sick and weak, and likely to perish. ' A very affecting appeal was made at this time to the House of Commons. One hundred and sixty- four nonconformists, called Quakers, assembled in Westminster Hall, and sent in a petition, stating that many of their brethren lay in irons, cruelly beaten by cruel jailers ; many have died in their sufferings, and many lie sick and weak upon straw ; and then praying that they might suffer in their stead, and that their bodies might be put into the holes and prisons, and an equal number of their suffering dying friends be released. Well might the editor of the Christian Examiner call this ' the feelings of majestic benevolence expressed in ten- der and beautiful simplicity. ' 7 In the jail for the city of Bedford, in which Bunyan was confined, the prisoners were treated with an extraordinary degree of humanity, for which the jailer was severely threatened by some of the inhuman jus- tices. So was Bunyan's valuable life preserved, and he favoured with an opportunity of writing the ' Pilgrim's Progress, 'and so fulfilling his great and appointed work. During this time he was permit- ted, by favour of the jailer, to visit his family, and even to go to London. This soon was rumoured ; 6 Evidently written by an eye-witness. ' Christian Examiner, vol. i. p. 211. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 19 and one night he felt so uneasy, when at home, that at a very late hour he went hack to the prison. The news of his being with his family at Elstow, was that very day taken to a neighbouring priest, who at midnight sent a messenger to the jail, that he might be a witness against the merci- ful keeper. On his arrival he demanded, ' Arc all the prisoners safe?' — 'Yes.' ' Is John Bunyan safe?' — 'Yes.' 'Let me see him.' He was called, and appeared ; and all was well. His kind- hearted jailer said to him, * You may go out when you will, for you know much better when to return than I can tell you.' While he was Buffering this imprisonment, his friends in Bedford were severely visited by the ruthless hand of persecution. Mr. Rulfhead1 was one of Bunyan 's principal friends and supporters, and had the honour of being the first that had his house plundered in the general persecution, when those who refused to attend the Church service were so severely visited. The effect of persecution upon this excellent and pious man was, that he, within two years, opened his house for the reception of the despised Chris- tians, and it was the first place of worship that was licensed in Bedford for the use of the nonconform- ists, if not the first in the United Kingdom. The account of the ruffianly transactions which took place at this time, is contained in a rare tract, called, ' A True and Impartial Narrative of some Illegal and Arbitrary Proceedings against Innocent Nonconformists in the Town of Bedford, 4to, 1 670. ' 2 'On Monday, the 30th of May, Feckman, the chief apparitor, with the churchwarden, con- stable, and overseer, began to distrain. The per- son's name is /. Euffhead, at whose house they first began. He had been fined three pounds, and they took away two timber trees, value seven pounds.'3 He must have been a man of some consequence in the town, to have been dealt with so leniently ; for in most cases they swept away all the stock in trade, tools, and household furniture, and left the bare walls to shelter the widow and her lament- ing orphans. Mr. Foster, a justice, went with the band, and in some cases doubled the fine, be- cause it was not immediately paid. The misery was such, that the porters said they would be hanged, drawn, and quartered before they would assist in that work. Two of them, for so refusing, were caught and sent to Bedford jail, where, doubtless, they gave an account to Bunyan of the cruel trials to which bis pious friends were sub- jected. The trained bands were called to assist, but ' the tradesmen, journeymen, labourers, and servants having either left the town or hid them- Spelt ' Roughed' in the Indulgence, 1672. In the library of the Editor. Narrative, p. 9. selves, to avoid his [Feckman's] call, the town was so thin of people, that it looked more like a country village than a corporation ; and the shops being generally shut down, it seemed like a place visited with a pest, where usually is written upon the door, Lord, liave mercy on its I' Similar deso- lations fell upon many cities in the kingdom, which must have been utterly ruined, had the absurd attempt to enforce uniformity been continued. In reading the narrative of these distressing and cruel proceedings, the mind is strangely relieved by the humours of the mob who accompanied these legalized plunderers. ' Whilst Battison and the other officers were attempting to break into a malt- house, a great number of all sorts of persons were gathered about them, expressing their indignation against him, for attempting this against Bardolf, the maltster, whom the whole town knew to be a just and harmless man. And the common sort of people covertly fixing a calf's tail to Battison 's back, and deriding him with shouts and hollows, he departed without taking any distress there.'4 Our pious teacher had his time so fully occu- pied in prison, that his hours must have passed more sweetly and swiftly than those of a debauched monarch, surrounded with luxuries, in his magnifi- cent palaces. To tag laces, the profit of which supported a beloved wife, and his family of help- less children, must have employed many of his hours to procure the scantiest food, and most homely clothing. But he found time also to study his Bible, teach his fellow-prisoners, and compose books which have inscribed his name on the page of history more indelibly and brilliantly than it could have been if set with diamonds on the most splendid earthly crown. He who could write, and loved to write, such volumes, wanted not occupa- tion or solace ; he might have said, I have found a nest of honey in the carcass of the lion that roared upon me. The world has from that time been refreshed with its sweetness, while, as a spiritual medicine, it counteracts the guilt and wretchedness of man. From such adversity God has extracted manna for the nourishment of his church in the wilderness. Stone walls do not a prison make Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage. For though men keep my out ward man Within their locks and bars, Yet by the faith of Christ I can Mount higher thau the stars. These be the men that God doth connt Of high and noble mind ; These be the men that do surmount What you in nature find. Vdrrative, p. 1. 80 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. First they do conquer their own hearts, All worldly fears, and then Also the devil's fiery darts, And persecuting men. How refreshing for such scriptures as these ' to thrill through the soul ' of a prisoner for Christ — 'Let not your heart be troubled,' &c. ; • In tbe world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.' Thus Bunyan says, • I bave had sweet sights of the forgiveness of sin in tbis place. 0 the Mount Zion, the hea- venly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and God the Judge of all; Jesus the Me- diator, and the spirits of just men made perfect ! I have seen here what I never can express. I have felt the truth of that scripture, "Whom having not seen ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory." ' Many years after he had obtained his liberty, notwithstanding all his sufferings, he, with the majesty of truth, hurled defiance at all persecutors, and exhorted those who had put on Christ to be steadfast unto the end, When preaching upon the unsearchable riches of Christ, he thus applied his subject, « We are environed with many enemies, and faith in the love of God and of Christ is our only succour and shelter. Wherefore, our duty, and wisdom, and privilege is, to improve this love to our own advantage — improve it against daily infirmities — improve it against the wiles of the Devil — improve it against the threats, rage, death, and destruction that the men of this world continu- ally, with their terror, set before you. ' ' It may be asked, Why dwell so much upon the sufferings of our pilgrim forefathers ? My reply is, To those trials in the person of John Bunyan, we are indebted for his invaluable book. To the groans, and tears, and blood of these saints we owe the great privileges we now enjoy. And my object also is to warn my readers not to touch the unclean thing. Antichrist is governed by the same principles and powers now as she was then ; the Acts of uniformity and coercion, to use the Book of Common Prayer, remain unaltered ; but a more humane state of society protects our persons from her despotism. So long as the wealth of the state is the bribe to conformity, and the power of taxing and imprisoning the nonconformist is continued, so long must she lie under the strong suspicion of hypocrisy and tyranny. She was formerly defiled with the sufferings unto death of many of the saints of God. And while the system is the same, it becomes us to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit, ' Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers. Come out from among See ' Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love,' vol. ii. p. 38. them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord.' 2 Co. vi. 14, 17. It would not be proper to pass by the contempt- ible sophistry with which Mr. Southey justifies an intolerant bigoted hierarchy in sending our Pilgrim to prison, ' where his understanding had leisure to ripen and to cool . . . favourable for his moral and religious nature.'2 Can this be the language of the author of Wat Tyler ? Yes ; the smile of royalty had elevated and corrupted him. He might now regret that he was not born in Bonner's days, to have assisted in improving the morals and religion of the martyrs, by flogging them in the coal-house ! The same language which Southey uses to justify the Church of England in sending our Pilgrim to prison, would equally justify the horrid cruelties practised upon those pious and amiable martyrs, Tyndale, Latimer, or Ridley. The alleged offence was refusing to transfer the obedience of a free im- mortal spirit from God, who justly claims it, to err- ing, debauched, or ungodly man, who, instigated by Satan, assumes the prerogatives of Deity to exer- cise dominion over the mode and form of worship ; to impose trammels upon that which must be free if it exists at all ; for God is a Spirit, and they who worship him must do it in spirit and in truth. When the English Established Church considered herself unsafe, unless Bunyan and many hundred kindred minds were shut up in prison, it proved itself to be a disgrace to the gospel, and an injury to a free people.3 All national hierarchies have estimated the minds of others by their own stand- ard ; but no real minister of the gospel can be like the Vicar of Bray, who was determined to retain his vicarage, whatever doctrine he might be ordered to preach. How strangely different were the feelings of the poor, pious, unlettered teacher, to those of arch- bishops, bishops, and clergy, thousands of whom swore under Henry VIII. and Edward VI. to abjure the Pope ; perjured themselves under Mary, by swearing to maintain him; and under Eliza- beth, again perjured themselves by taking a new oath to un-oath Queen Mary's oath ; and all within the space of a few years ! The state, by enforcing conformity to an Established church, naturally puts the people upon desperate courses, either to play the hypocrite, and have no conscience at all, or to be tortured for having a conscience not fashion- able or pleasing to the court party. They must either deny their faith and reason, or if virtuous, be destroyed for acting according to them.4 Those who have no religion have always persecuted those who have religious principles ; and to enable them 2 Southey's Life of Bunyan, p. lxvi. 3 Dr. Cheever, p. 95. 4 England's Present Interest, 4to, l'J75, by Wm. Penn. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 21 to do this, they must obey the state, be it Chris- tian or be it Mahometan. Force makes hypocrites : persuasion alone makes converts. Such wholesale persecutions bid fair to destroy the trade and commerce of the kingdom, and in- volve it in one universal desolation. Sir W. Petty, the founder of the Shelbourne family, then a man of considerable note, demonstated this in his Po- litical Arithmetic; and the illustrious founder of Pennsylvania gave a just picture of the miseries inflicted by the Church of England, in her endea- vours to force pious and honest men into her com- munion. • Persons have been flung into jails, gates and trunks broken open, goods distrained, till a stool hath not been left to sit down on. Flocks of cattle driven, whole barns full of corn seized. Parents left without their children, children with- out their parents, both without subsistence. But that which aggravates the cruelty is, the widow's mite hath not escaped their hands ; they have made her cow the forfeit of her conscience, not leaving her a bed to lie on, nor a blanket to cover her ; and which is yet more barbarous, and helps to make up this tragedy, the poor helpless orpban's milk boiling over the fire, was flung away, and the skillet made part of their prize ; that, had not nature in neighbours been stronger than cruelty in such informers and officers, to open her bowels for their relief and subsistence, they must have utterly perished ;' and what has such cruelty procured ? ' the judgments of God, the hatred of men. To the sufferers, misery ; to their country, decay of people and trade ; and to their own consciences, an infinite guilt." • Men must either have no con- science at all, or be hanged for having a conscience not fashionable.'3 He winds up a manly, learned, and excellent treatise, by saying (inter alia), that ' the interests of Britain will stand longer upon the legs of the English people than of the English Church,'3 and signs himself 'An English Christian Man, William Penn.' Persecution, for his pure religious feelings, drove him and thousands of the best English citizens across the Atlantic, to seek among savages the repose denied to them by the Church of England, and to found a state and an empire where the perfect equality and happiness of every sect, the non-interference of the state with the spiritual things of conscience and of God, will render it eventually the most mighty of empires, and an unbounded blessing to the whole universe. At length the King was aroused ; probably the grim head of his father flitted before his alarmed imagination ; and, to restore tranquillity to his kingdom, he issued a declaration for liberty of conscience ; whether induced by the groans of an 1 England's Present Interest, Preface. 2 Ibid. p. 39. 3 Ibid. p. 57. afflicted people, many thousands of whom had suf- fered the loss of all things, or by the weakening of his kingdom by the multitudes who emigrated to America, to escape the tyranny of ecclesiastical persecution, or whether to relax the laws against the Papists, has been a subject of controversy, and, however we may be sceptical as to royal declara- tions, yet, judging cautiously, I am inclined to hope that the motives set forth in that declaration were true ; at all events, it is an indelible record, that the dreadful experiment tried for twelve cruel years, to compel uniformity in Divine worship by fines, imprisonment, and even death, most signally failed, while it involved the kingdom in a state of desolation, from which it required the glorious revolution of 1688 to restore it to comparative prosperity. Favoured by the prompt and kind permission of Sir George Grey, one of her Majesty's principal Secretaries of State, and the very courteous and hearty assistance of Mr. Lechmere, Keeper of the Archives in the State Paper Office, every possible search was made to find any papers or records relative to the imprisonment and discharge of Bunyan. Having thus an opportunity of tran- scribing all that could be found at the fountain- head of intelligence, it may prove interesting to our readers to possess a correct copy of these import- ant documents. The first is the King's declaration, under his own autograph signature. p -i 1 t> His Matie9 Declarat ion V^liaiieS SX to all his loveing Subjects Our care and Endeavours for the preservation of the Rights and Interests of the Church, have been sufficiently manifested to the World by the whole course of Our Government since Our happy Restauracon, and by the many and frequent wayes of Coercion that Wee have used for reduceing all erring or dis- senting persons, and for composeing the unhappy differences in matters of Religion, which Wee found among Our Subjects upon Our Returne : But it being evident by the sad experience of twelve yeares that there is very Little fruite of all those forceable Courses Wee thinke Our Selfe oblidged to make use of that Supreame Power in Ecclesiasticall Matters which is not onely inherent in Us, but hath been declared and Recognized to be soe by severall Statutes and Acts of Parliament; And therefore Wee doe now accordingly issue this Our Declaration, as well for the quieting the Mindes of Our Good Subjects in these Points, for Invitcing Strangers in this Conjuncture to come and Live under Us, and for the better Encouragement of all to a cheareful following of their Trade and Callings, from whence Wee hope by the Blessing of God to have many good and happy Advantages to our Government ; As also for pre- venting for the future the danger that might otherwise arise from Private Meetings, and Seditious Conventicles; And in the first place, Wee declare Our expresse Resolution Meaneing and Intention to be, that the Church of England bee preserved and remaine entire in its Doctrine, Discipline, and Government, as now it stands established by Law ; And that this bee taken to bee, as it is, the Basis, Rule, and Standard of the Generall and Publicke Worshipp nf God, And that the Orthodox Conformable Clergy doe receive and enjoy the Revenues belonging thereunto; And that no Person, 22 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. though of a different opinion and Perswasiou shall hee exempt from paying his Tythes, or other Dues whatsoever. And further Wee declare, That no Person shall hee capable of hold- ing any benefice, Liveing, or Ecclesiasticall Dignity or Prefer- ment of any kinde in this Our Kingdome of England, who is not exactly Conformable. Wee doe in the next Place declare Our Will and Pleasure to bee, That the Execution of all and all manner of Penall Lawes in matters Ecclesiasticall, against whatsoever sort of Non Conformists, or Recusants, bee imme- diately suspended, and they are hereby suspended. And all Judges, Judges of Assise and Gaole Delivery, Sheriffes, Justices of the Peace, Mayors, BaylifTs, and other Officers, whatsoever, whether Ecclesiasticall, or Civill, are to take notice of it, and pay due Obedience thereunto. And that there may be no pretence for any of Our Subjects to continue their illegal! meetings and Conventicles Wee doe Declare, That wee shall from time to time allow a sufficient Number of Places, as they shall bee desired, in all parts of this Our Kingdome, for the use of such as doe not conforme to the Church of Englaud, to meete and assemble in, in Order to their Publick Worship and Devotion; which Places shall bee open and free to all Persons. But to prevent such disorders and inconveniencies as may happen by this Our Indulgence, if not duely regulated, and that they may be the better protected by the Civill Magistrate Our expresse Will and Pleasure is, That none of our Subjects doe presume to meete in any Place, untill such Place bee allowed, and the Teacher of that congregation be approved by Us. And Lest any should apprehend that this Restriction should make Our said Allowance and approbation difficult to bee obtained, Wee doe further Declare, That this Our Indulgence, as to the Allowance of the Publick Places of Worship, and approbation of the Teachers, shall extend to all sorts of Non- Conformists and Recusants, except the Recusants of the Roman Catholick Religion, to whom We shall in no wise allow Publick Places of Worship, but only indulge them their share in the common Exemption from the execution of the Penall Lawes, and the Exercise of their Worship in their private Houses onely. And if after this Our Clemency and Indulgence, any of Our Subjects shall presume to abuse this Liberty, and shall preach seditiously, or to the Derogation of the Doctrine, Discipline, or Government of the Established Church, or shall meet in Places not allowed by Us, Wee doe hereby give them warneing, and Declare, We will proceed against them with all imaginable severity : And Wee will Lett them see We can be as Severe to punish such offenders, when soe justly provoked, as We are Indulgent to truely tender consciences. In Wittnesse whereof Wee have caused Our Greate Seale of England to be putt and affixed to these presents. Given att Our Court att Whitehall tliis fifteenth day of March in the 24th yeare of Our Reigne 107|. At this time, George Whitehead, one of the most zealous and prominent Quakers, became deeply affected with the cruel punishments that his brethren and sisters were suffering for Christ's sake. He was a man who, with equal composure and zeal, could plead before royalty and nobles in a state apartment, or impart consolation to a suf- fering Christian in a dungeon or a pest-house. He thus mentions it in his Journal, ' Soon after the before-mentioned declaration of indulgence was published in print, as I was solitary upon the road, returning toward London, a very weighty and ten- der concern fell upon my spirit, with respect to our dear friends then in prisons, being above four hun- dred, many of whom had been long straitly con- fined for not conforming, some having endured ten or eleven years' imprisonment, whereupon I wrote to the King, and requested Thomas Moor, who had an interest with the King and some of his council, to present my letter, which he did ; and a few days after we had access to the King's presence, and renewed our request, whereupon he granted us liberty to be heard on the next council-day, in the same week. And then I, with Thomas Moor and Thomas Green, attended at the council-chamber at Whitehall, and were all admitted in before the King, and a full council. Being called to the upper end of the council-board, I opened and fully pleaded the case of our suffering friends. The King gave this answer, " I'll pardon them.'" They were per- mitted to address the council at some length, and it being near the time of a general fast, they con- cluded with these words, ' This is the fast the Lord requires, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free. ' Favoured with an order from the Secretary of State, and by the kind assistance of J. B. Lennard, Esq., of the Privy Council Office, I obtained access to the minutes of that council ; in which is re- corded, that a circular letter be sent to the sheriffs of the counties in England and Wales — After our hearty commendations — Whereas request hath been made unto His Majesty in behalf of the Quakers who remain at present in several gaols and prisons of this King- dom, That His Majesty would be pleased to extend his mercy towards them, and give order for their Release; Which His Majesty taking into consideration, hath thought fit, in order to his clearer information, before he resolve any-thing therein, to command us to write these Our Letters unto you : And, accord- ingly, wee do hereby will and require you to procure a perfect Lyste or Calendar of the names, time, and causes of comitment of all such Persons called Quakers, as are remayning in any Goale or Prison within that County, and to return ye same forthwith to this Board. And so nothing doubting of your ready performance of this His Majesty's command, we bid you heartily farewell. Prom the Court at Whitehall, ye 29th of March, 1672. Signed Earle of Ossory Earle of Carlisle Lord Holies Earle of Bathe Ea of Lauderdail Mr. Secy Trevor Earle of Craven Lord Newport Mr. of ye Ordnance. Like tres dated and signed ut supra were sent to ye Warden of ye Fleet and Mareshall of ye King's Bench Prisons, And to ye Mayors or Justices of ye seuerall places hereunder written viz. Citty and County of y** Citty of Chester. Citty and County of ye Citty of Exon. Towne and County of Poole. Citty and County of Glocestcr. Citty and Coimty of Lincolne. Citty and County of Brestoll. Towne and County of Southton. Citty and County of ye Citty of York.1 Extracted from the Register of the Privy Council. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 23 The indefatigable manner in which the Quakers proceeded to get the requisite official signatures to release their suffering and dying friends, is beyond all praise. They wrote to all their meetings throughout tho country to obtain assistance, to enable them to meet the demands for fees, and even sent their talented female friends to the officials, to press on this glorious jail delivery. This ap- pears from the following letters : — George Whitehead to Stephen Crisp. Srdoflst Month [_April~] 1672. Before thy letter had conic to hand, I had drawn np a paper containing the substance of thine, which Thos. Moore had given to the King, together with a list of the pnemunired Friends and of those sentenced to banishment, &c. ; which hitherto has been effectual, in order to a further enquiry about Friends, &c. How far the King aud Council have proceeded, in answer to the request, 1 leave it to Win. Crouch to inform thee. Thy paper is kept for a further occasion if need be, if our end be not answered by them. But we are encouraged to hope well for divers reasons. I could not well send to write to thee before, being much exercised for the sufferers. The Council yesterday signed the letters to the Sheriffs for a return of Friends Commitments, &c. to the Board ; so that they are like to be had with expedition into the several Counties. My very dear love to thee, thy wife, R. Crouch, and Friends In haste, thy dear brother [From the original.] G. W. John Rouse to Margaret Fox. London, 4th of 2nd Month \_May~], Dear Mother, 1672. Last 6th day the two women took the grant out of the Attorney-general's office, and he gave them his fee, which should have been £5 ; his clerk took but 20,?., whereas his fee was 40.?. Yesterday they went with it to the Kiug, who signed it in the Council ; and Arlington also signed it, but would take no fees, whereas his fees would have been £12 or £20 ; neither would Williamson's man take any thing, saying, that if any religion were true, it was ours. To-morrow it is to pass the signet, and on sixth day the privy seal, aud afterwards the broad seal, which may be done on any day. The power of the Lord hath wrought mightily in the accomplishment of it ; and the Lord hath bowed their hearts wonderfully in it blessed be his name for ever ! Thy dear son in the Lord, John Rouse. Upon the King's declaration being published, an outcry was raised by the church, that it was only intended to favour the Papists, although in it they are expressly prohibited from the public exercise of their religion. So angry was the King at his motives being, as he said, misrepresented, that he went to the Council Office, called for the deed, and with his own hand broke off the great seal ; the ribbon remains to this day to which the seal had been attached. Still the declaration, having passed the patent offices, was fully acted upon, and a return was ordered from the sheriffs throughout the kingdom, of the names of all prisoners, called Quakers, for disobedience to the laws in ecclesi- astical matters within their respective divisions, with the causes of their commitment. The follow- ing are the minutes of the Privy Council to which their returns were submitted : — At the Court at Whitehall the 8th of May 1672 The Kings most excellent Mau* Lord Arch Bp of Canterbury Earle of Bathe Lord Keeper Earle of Carlisle Duke of Lauderdail Earle of Craven Lord Chamberlain Earle of Shaffsbury Visco* Ffauconberge Lord Hollis Vise' Halifaf Mr Vice Chamberlain Lord Bp of London Mr. Secretary Trevor Lord Newport Sr John Duucombe Earle of Bridgwater Mr Chancellor of the Dutchy Earle of Essex Master of the Ordinauce Earle of Anglesey Sr Thomas Osborne Whereas his Matie of his Princely Clemency was graciously pleased to direct that Letters should be written from this Board to the Sherrifl's of the respective Countycs and Citties and Countycs, and Townes and Countycs within his Matie8 Kingdome of England and Dominion of Wales, requireing them to rcturne perfect lists or Callendcrs of the Names time aud Causes of Comittmeut of all such Prisoners called Quakers as remaine in their severall Gaoles, or prisons, which they accordingly did, and the same were by order of his Matle in Councell of the third of this instant delivered into the hands of the right Honoble the Lord Keeper of the great Seale of England, [Sir Orlando Bridgman,] who haveing considered thereof did this day returue them againe together with his opinion therevpon as followeth viz' The Returnes that are made touching the prisoners in the severall Goalcs are of severall Kindcs. 1 All such of them as are returned to be convicted to be Transported or to be Convicted of a Premunire (vpon which Convictions I suppose Judgment was given) are not legally to be discharged but by his Matiea pardon vnder the great seale. 2 All those that are returned to be in prison vpon writts of Excomuuicato Capiendo not mentioning the cause ought not to be discharged till the cause appeares— ffor if it be for Tythes, Legacyes, Defamations or other private Interest, they ought not to bee discharged till the partie be satisfied. 3 All those that are returned in prison for debt or vpon Ex- chequer processe or of any of the other Courts at \\ est- miuster, are not to be discharged till it be Kuowne for what cause those processes Issued aud those debts be discharged. 4 Those that are in prison for not paying their ffynes ought not to be discharged, without paying their ll'ynes or a Pardon. All the rest I conceive may be discharged. Which being this day taken into consideration his Matie was gratiously pleased to declare, that he will Pardon all those persons called Quakers, now in prison for any offence Committed, relateisg only to his Matie and not to the prejudice of any other person. And it was therevpon ordered by his Matie iu Councill That a List of the Names of the Quakers in the Severall Prisons together with the causes of their Comittment be and is here- with sent to his Maa" Attorney Generall who is required, and Authorized to prepare a Bill for his Ma*" Royal] Signatnw conteyning a Pardon to passe the great Seale of England, fur all such to whom his Matie may legally grant tlie same .V in Case of any difficultic that he attend the Lord Keeper, and receive his directions therein. Ex. J. W. Walker. Order of Councill for the Quakers gencndle Tardou. 24 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Endorsed. This is a true List of the Names of such persons com- monly called Quakers and others which are by Vertue of an Order of Councill of the 8th of May last past to be inserted in a generall Pardon. Ex. J. W. Walker. Then follow the names of four hundred and seventy-one prisoners, ordered to be inserted in the pardon. One sentence in this opinion of the Lord Chancellor, Sir Orlando Bridgman, is worthy of especial regard. Having noticed the cases of all those who had been legally convicted, either by summary process before a magistrate, or by petty session, or by a jury, he winds up with a sweeping expression, ' All (lie rest may be discharged.' That multitudes were imprisoned without conviction, upon the mere verbal orders of a justice, there can be no doubt. These would be set at liberty with- out any formal pardon ; even in Bunyan's case no evidence was taken, but a conviction was recorded. In a conversation between him and the justice, and also with the clerk privately, lie denied having offended any law whatever ; but his honest declara- tion, that he had met with others for Divine wor- ship, was distorted into a plea of guilty, and he was sent to prison without redress. ' They took me for a convicted person,' and ' would not let me out of prison, as they let out thousands ' at the time | the King was crowned.1 It is impossible to calculate the amount of misery inflicted upon the Christian Church at that period, by the Episcopalian establishment supported by the state. Among the multitude of prisoners who were liberated from our over-crowded prisons at the coronation of Charles II., vast numbers had been confined for their love to the Redeemer, which prevented their conformity to the forms of worship ordered by the state. In addition to these, a countless host was discharged under the just deci- sion of the Lord Chancellor, ' All the rest, I con- ceive, may be discharged ; ' while nearly five hun- dred more were included in the royal pardon, and great numbers were still left to perish in prison, for the non-payment of ecclesiastical dues, gener- ally of a trifling amount. The loss to the noncon- formists in their goods, during this severe and cruel persecution, has been estimated at half a million sterling, seized by rapacious officers to pay fines for not attending the liturgy and service — an enor- mous sum, considering the value of money at that time ; yet from records which the Editor has seen, it was not over-stated. But a small portion of this found its way into the royal exchequer. Our great Allegorist was trained up in the fiercest spiritual warfare ; and, with his fellow-pilgrims, passed through the severest temporal sufferings. 1 ' Relation of the Imprisonment of John Bunyan,' vol. i. pp. 40, 41 ; aud Judge Hale's observation, p. 42. May God, in his infinite mercy, forgive the livino; representatives of a system which is so naturally full of cruelty, and not, in the severity of his jus- tice, visit the sins of the fathers upon their chil- dren ; some of whom appear, even now, to have an inkling for similar antichristian conduct. It cannot be forgotten that, within a few years, an estimable man, John Childs of Bungay, was sent to jail for refusing to pay a church rate. But to return to our distinguished nonconformist prisoner. On the day following the meeting of the Privy Council, when the report of the Lord Chan- cellor was received, and the King had ordered his royal pardon for the Quakers; Bunyan, being still a prisoner, was, in pursuance of the declaration for liberty of conscience, licensed to be a teacher, being one of the first persons that were so regis- tered. These were the first permissions to preach given, to the dissenters from the established sect, in this country. The volume from which these extracts are made is called Indulgences, 1672, under the head 'Con- gregational!.' Bedford Licence for CHARLES &c. To all Mayors, Bailiffs, John lkmyon to Constables and other Our Officers and house^oflosts Ministers Civil and Military whom it may Roughed 9 May concerne, Greeting. In Pursuance of our 72- Declaration of the 15th of March 167$ Wee doe hereby permitt and licence John Bunyon to bee a Teacher of the Congregation allowed by Us in the Howse of Josias Roughed Bedford for the use of such as doe not con- forme to the Church of England, who are of the Perswasion commonly called Congregationall. With further licence and permission to him the said John Bunyou to teach in any other place licensed by Us according to our said Declaration. Given at Our Court at Whitehall the 9th day of May in the 24th yeare of our Reigue, 1672. By his Matie8 Command Arlington. At the same time the house of Josias Roughed was registered in the following form : — 2 A place for a Teacher CHARLES &c. To all Mayors, Bailiffs, Constables and other Our Officers and Ministers Civill and Military, whom it may concerne, Greet- ing. In pursuance of Our Declaracon of the 15 of March 1 67$ Wee have allowed and Wee doe hereby allow of the Howse of Josias Roughed in Bedford to be a place for the use of such as doe not conforme to the Church of England who are of the Perswasion commonly called Congregationall to meet and assemble in, in order to their Publick Worship & devotion. And all aud Singular Our Officers and Ministers Ecclesiasticall Civill and Military, whom it may concerne arc to take due notice hereof, And they and every of them are hereby strictly charged aud required to hinder any Tumult or Disturbance, & to protect them in their said Meetings & Assemblies. Given at &c the 9th dny of May in the 24th yeare of Our Reigne 1672 By his Matie* Command AliLINGTON. 2 See a similar form of registration in Wilson's History of Dissenting Churches, vol. iii. p. 187- — The house of Thos. Doolittle, dated April 2, 167$ INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. The church of Christ at Bedford is here called j Congregational. In ten months, about three thou- sand five hundred of these licenses were granted, I only one being at Bedford; many were for persons and places called Anabapt, all others were under the term Congregational, Philip Henry was in- dulged'in his house, Malpas Parish, in Flintshire.1 Thomas Senior and Henry Ashurst, in their re- spective houses at Clapton, in Hackney. Bunyan's church could uot fairly be called Anabapt, because it consisted of members some of whom, probably, had not been baptized in or with water, some christened in infancy, and others immersed on a profession of their faith. Mr. Roughed, whose house was licensed for Bunyan to preach in, was plundered a few months previously for refusing to go to church. To attend such a place was one month a violation of the law, visited with ruinous hues and imprisonments, and the next month, places arc licensed according to law, for any person to attend, instead of going to church. Law-makers must ever be the scorn and derision of the world, when they interfere with Divine and spiritual worship. The Quakers had much greater influence with the King and his council than all the other deno- minations of Christians ; and it was soon rumoured abroad that they had been with the King in coun- cil, and had obtained for their suffering friends a royal promise of a free pardon. Controversy be- tween them and other Christians had been carried on with much bitterness of speech, and in this Bunyan had borne a prominent part, when com- bating against what he conceived to be serious errors. But as Christians involved in one common calamity, the Quakers admitted their brethren in affliction to partake of the bounty bestowed ex- pressly upon themselves. Whitehead thus narrates this delightful fact in his journal : — ' When the instrument for discharge of the prisoners was granted to our friends, there being other dissenters, besides Quakers, in some prisons, as Baptists, Pres- byterians, and Independents ; some of their solici- . tors, especially one William Carter, seeing what way we had made with the King for our friends' release, they desired their friends in prison might be discharged with ours, and have their names in the same instrument, and earnestly requested my advice or assistance, which I was very willing to give in compassion to them ; and, accordingly, I advised them to petition the King, with the names of the prisoners in it, for his warrant to have them inserted in the same patent with the Quakers, which accordingly they did petition for, and obtain. ' ' Our being of different judgments and societies, j did not abate my compassion or charity, even towards them who had been my opposers in some cases. Blessed be the Lord my God, who is the Father and fountain of mercies, whose love and mercies in Christ Jesus to us should oblige us t<> he merciful and kind one to another; we being required to love mercy, yea, to be merciful, as well as to do justly, and to walk humbly with the Lord our God.'1 Such was the Christian conduct of men, who, of all the members of the church militant upon earth, have been the most grossly slandered. In pursuance of the Quaker's kind advice, Bunyau and his fellow-prisoners petitioned the King for their liberty; and at the meeting of the Privy Council, held on the 8th of May J (J72, in presence of His Majesty, and a numerous assembly of his nobles, before the grant of pardon to relieve the Quakers was engrossed, it is recorded — At the Court at Whitehall, 8th May, 1072. Reference Peticdn Upon reading this day at the board tunm.NlVisumTsm t,ie humble petition of John trim, John r:" l-r ,,;'*ue Bunyon, John Dunn, Thomas Haynes, and Bi^dlurd Goalo. ... ,, , .-, . Simon Havnea, and George Fan prisoners in the Goal of Bedford and James Rogers prisoner in the Castle of Cambridge for being at Conventicles and Non-con- formity. It was ordered to be referred to the Sheriffs of the Counties of Bedford and Cambridge to examine the said Petitions and forthwith certify this Board whether the said parties are detained in prison for the offences therein men- tioned or for what other crimes. At the Court at Whitehall, y* 17th of May, 1672. The King's most excellent Matie- Lord Arch Bp of Canterbury Earle of Shaffsbury Lord Keeper Viscot Fauconberg Duke of Lauderdale \ iscot Halifax Duke of Ormonde Lord Newport Marquis of Worcester Lord liollis Earle of Bridgewater Lord Clifford Earle of Essei .Mr. Vice Chamberlain Earle of Anglesey .Mr. Secretary Trevor Earle of Bathe Mr. Montague Earle of Carlisle Mr. Chancellor of ye Dutchy Earle of Craven Master ofy' Ordnance Earlfi of Arlington Sr Thomas Osborne. Whereas- by order of the Board of the 8th Instant the humble Petition of John Fenn John Bunyon John Dunn Thomas Haynes Simon Haynes and George Farr Prisoners in the Goals ui Bedford Convicted upon severall Statutes for not conforming to the Rights and Ceremonyes of the Church of England and for being at unlawful Meetings, was Referred to the Sheriffeof the County of Bedford who was required to Certify thu whether the said persons were comitted for the Crimes in the said Petition mentioned and for no oilier which he haveing accordingly done by his cert ilieate dated the 11th Instant It was thereupon this day ordered by his Ma'1" in Councill, That the said petition and Certificate be (and are herewith; sent to his Ma1'" Attorney General], who is authorised and required to insert them into the Generall Pardon to be pasted lor the Quakers. If he finds that they are within the compel Ma1'1'* pardon according to the Rule Prescribed by tbi of the 8lh of May about pardon lor the Quakers. Whitehead's Christian Progress, 8vo, 1725, p. 8S8. 4 B6 THE riLGEIM'S PROGRESS. The like order for Francis Holcroft and James Rogers for frequenting unlawful meetings as by certificate from the Sheriffe of Cambridge of the 10th and 11th Instant. [The sheriff's return cannot befound.~\ At a Court at Whitehall, ye 22d May 1672, A similar order was made for Walter Peun and twelve others, prisoners in Wilts. At a Court -f 7th of June 1672, On a Certificate of the Mayor, Sheriff and Aldermen of Worcester, Robert Smith, a Baker, was ordered to be inserted in the pardon. On the 12th of June, the petition of twenty-two prisoners was read and referred to the Sheriffs, and on the 26th their names were ordered to be inserted in the pardon. On the 14th of June Thomas More the Quaker obtained a similar order, and on the 26th of June Thomas Gower Durham and eight prisoners in Devon and Exeter were ordered to be inserted in the pardon. Through all these minutes the intended patent is referred to as the general pardon to the Quakers. Thus we find undoubted proof upon the records of the Privy Council of England, presided over by the King in person, that John Bunyan's only crime, as certified by the sheriff, and for which he was j counted worthy of so cruel an imprisonment, was j being present with others to worship his Maker in simplicity and in truth. This was all his crime ; ' the very head and front of his offence. ' 0 that all her Majesty's subjects would constantly follow his example ! then might our prisons be converted into colleges and schools, and our land become an earthly paradise. In pursuance of this great and benevolent object, these indefatigable Quakers obtained a warrant to the Attorney-General, for a free pardon, of which the following is a copy: — Our will and pleasure is, that you prepare a bill for the royal signature, and to pass our Great Seal of England, con- taining our gracious pardon unto [here follow the prisoners' names]. Of all offences, contempts and misdemeanours by them, or any of them committed before the 21st day of July 1672, against the several statutes made in the first, twenty- third, and thirty-fifth years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth : in the third year of the reign of our late royal grandfather, King James ; and in the 16th year of our reign — in not com- ing to church aud hearing divine service j in refusing to take the oath of allegiance and supremacy, and frequenting or being present at seditious conventicles ; and of all premuuires, judgments, convictions, sentences of excommunication, and transportation thereupon; and of all fines, amercements, pains, penalties, aud forfeitures whatsoever, thereby incurred, with restitution of lands aud goods, and such other clauses, and non obstantes, as may render this our pardon most effectual ; for which this shall be your warraut. Given at our Court at Whitehall the — day of June, in the twenty-fourth year of our reign. But now a new and very serious difficulty pre- sented itself in the shape of enormous fees, in thfc different offices through which the pardon had \o pass ; these amounted to between twenty and thirty pounds for each person whose name was inserted in it. Whitehead again applied to the King, and at length all difficulties were removed by the following order: — His Majesty is pleased to command, that it be signified as his pleasure to the respective officers and sealers, where the pardon to the Quakers is to pass, that the pardon, though comprehending great numbers of persons, do yet pass as one pardon, and pay but as one. Arlington. At the Court at Whitehall, the 13th of Sep. 1672. Whitehead adds, ' Though we had this warrant from the King, yet we had trouble from some of the covetous clerks, who did strive hard to exact upon us.' A very considerable sum for those days, and for such poor persons to raise, was needful to carry this pardon into full effect. The dissenters had been enormously plundered. Hundreds, if not thousands, had been stripped of all that they pos- sessed, so that the prison, intended and used as a place of rigorous punishment, was in fact their only shelter from the inclemency of the weather. The expenses of a royal pardon for such a number of prisoners was very great, not merely in the drawing, engrossing, and passing through the various offices and departments of the state, but in employing efficient persons to go through the kingdom to plead this pardon before the various sessions and assizes. Every impediment that cruelty could invent was thrown in the way of the release of these Christian prisoners for noncon- formity, by the squirarchy and clergy. To raise the requisite funds, a strong appeal was made by the following circular sent to the Quakers in the country: — Friends and Brethren, We suppose you may not be insensible how that upon sundry applications made to the King and Council in time past and more especially now of late for the release of our dear suffering Friends, the Clerk and others, and others attend- ing him and them, have upon that account been put to a great deal of trouble and pains in writing of orders and letters to the Sheriffs of the respective Counties in England and Wales, aud otherwise in order to Friends' discharge, aud although for some years together their labour therein (as well as those of us who travelled in that affair on Friends' behalf) was from time to time rendered ineffectual, yet at this present, there appears a very great probability of accomplishing our friends liberty, which hath and doth renew an additional trouble upon them, and thereby a further obligation laid upon us to requite them for their pains, and not only them but also the Clerks of the Keeper, Attorney General, and other inferior officers, who in drawing up the Kings grant and orders, and Friends gene- ral discharge (now in agitation towards an accomplishment) will be at no small trouble in writing and other services in order thereunto that we apprehend Friends cannot be clear if they do not in some measure answer the reasonable part in them by gratifying them for their pains. Wherefore we saw meet to recommend it to such Friends in the Counties as are or have been lately prisoners for tbe truth's sake and who are INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 87 to share in the benefit that may accrue by the King's intended genera] discharge thai they nil] be pleased to contribute their proportion toward defraying of this great charge which they are desired forthwith to take into their consideration accord- ingly and to Bend it np to London with all convenient expedi- tion unto Gerard Roberts, John Osgood, and William "Welch or any or either of them for the purpose aforementioned. We remain Your dear biendi and brethren. London, 5th of 4th no. 167B, Part of the money is already disbursed on this behalf by Friends in Londou. Extraeted from the Minute Book of the Society of Friends, 1678, Devonshire House, Bisho] All difficulties having been overcome, this Magna Charta, or grant of liberty, was issued. The original patent, with the Great Seal attached to it, is carefully preserved by the Society of Friends, in their archives at Devonshire House, and it con- tains the names of twenty prisoners not included in the order of Privy Council. But Bunyan's name is in both. It is in Latin in the usual form, prepared by Mr. Nicolls, the principal clerk to the Attorney-General, to the following effect: — Charles the Second by the Grace of God of England, Scot- land, France and Ireland, King, Defender, &c. To all to whom the present letters shall come greeting — Know ye that we moved with piety1 of our special grace, and of our certain knowledge and mere motion, Have pardoned, remitted and released and by these presents for us our heirs and successors Do pardon, remit and release to Edward Pattison, John Ellis, Arthur Cooke and Richard Cannon prisoners in our Gaol of Newgate within our City of Loudon. And in the same form the prisoners are named in the other jails throughout the kingdom. The following were fellow-sufferers at that time in Bedford jail: — John Fcuu, John Bunnion, John Dunn, Thomas Ilayues, George Farr, James Rogers, John Rush, Tabitha Rush, and John Curfe, Prisoners in the Common Gaol for our County of Bedford. [The names and places of imprisonment having been given of the four hundred and ninety-one prisoners, the jrrant goes on with great care to secure the benefit intended] — to each of them — or by whatsoever other names or name — surname — addition of name — Art — Office — Mystery or Place they — are known deemed called or named or lately was known iVe. All and all manner crimes transgressions offences of prcmunire — unlawful conventicles contempts and ill behaviour whatsoever — by himself alone or with any other person how- soever whensoever or in what maimer soever or wheresoever advised commanded attempted done perpetrated or committed before the thirtieth day of July last past before the date of these presents, against the form of the Statute &C In witness of which thing we have caused these our letters to be made 1 Charles II.'s notion of being pious must have arisen from the flattery bestowed upon his father, it being impossible to have arisen from any other source. 'The conceptions of kings are as far above the vulgar as their conditiou is; for, beiug higher elevated, and walking upon the battlements of sovereignty, they sooner receive the inspirations of heaven.' — Howel's Bodonds Grove, p. 61. [Why not conduct Divine service over the dome of St. Pain's ?] patent. Witness myself at Westminster the 18th of September in the twenty fourth year of our reign [1072.] By writ of Privy Seal. Pigott. This instrument is extended by the forma of law, so that every name is repeated eleven times, and in which our great sufferer's name is spelt in four different ways. Bwnmon twice, Bwnytm five times, Bunnyon once, and Bunnyan three times. It is singular that he spelt his own name in different ways in the early part of his life, and on the draw- ing of his portrait by White it is spelt Julia Bvmon, while on the engraving done by the same artist it is John Bunnyon.9 The names inserted in this pardon are four hundred and ninety-one. Bunyan having had a very sharp controversy with the Quakers, it is a strong manifestation of their Christian spirit that he certainly obtained his release through their instrumentality ; for they paid all the expenses of getting the royal grant, and also of having it served throughout the king- dom ; and to do this with speed, many of the prisoners being in a dying state with the severity of their sufferings, duplicates of the pardon were made and authenticated, and messengers were dis- | patched throughout the country to set the prisoners at liberty. At first, Whitehead and his friends took the patent with them, and produced it at the assizes and quarter-sessions. With some reluct- ; ance on the part of the persecuting justices, they consented to discharge the prisoners named in the patent, not daring to disobey the royal mandate. I They then discovered that some of the pious suf- ferers had still been omitted, notwithstanding the return made by the sheriffs, and the additions which had been made at Whitehead's request, before the Great Seal was attached. On behalf of these they pleaded effectually, and they also were discharged from confinement. The great anxiety of the Quakers to effect their object is shown by many letters which passed at the time between their leading ministers. This will be seen by the following extracts: — Ellis Ilookes to Margaret Fox. Yith o/Qth mouth {Sept.) 1G72. G. W. and myself have been much employed this summer in the business of the prisoners liberty, &c. — (lie describes the process of getting the pardon through the various offices.) Ellis Hookes to Margaret Fox. 1st of 8th mo (Nov.) 1672. The deed of pardon prepared on 1 1 skins about 500 names ; hoped that a letter from the Principal Secretary of Male 'may be effectual to discharge them.' Same to same. 10/A cflOtk month {Jan.) 107 J. All the prisoners were Discharged except those in I ' Cumberland, Lancashire, and Monmouth in Wales. Print-room, British Museum. 28 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. It is said that Bishop Barlow interceded for Bunyan ; hut if he did, there is no record or peti- tion to that effect preserved either in the State Paper or Privy Council Offices. He was not then a bishop, hut possessed great influence, and had written, Tlie case of a Toleration in Matters of Religion, which he extended further than any divine of that age. This, and his friendship with Dr. Owen, might have given rise to the report. Barlow became afterwards a trimmer, and sided with the court party — a very natural effect of his elevation into bad company. My conviction is, that Bunyan owed his release to the desolating effects produced by a wholesale persecution visiting tens of thousands who dared not, as they valued the honour of Christ or the salvation of their souls, attend the national, and, in their opinion, anti-scriptural service ; and that the Privy Council, finding that the country must be plunged into revolution or ruin if the wretched system of compulsive uniformity was continued, determined to relax its severity, grant liberty of worship, and discharge the prisoners. As this could not be done by proclamation, and the pri- soners were too poor to sue out a patent individu- ally, much difficulty and delay might have arisen to prevent their discharge. This was removed by the active benevolence of George Whitehead. The appeal which he and his friends made was allowed ; and he appears to have obtained the insertion of twenty names which were not in the Privy Council list to be added to the pardon. Whitehead's con- cern appears to have followed immediately after the declaration for liberty of conscience was published. Whether it arose from some intimation given him by Mr. Moor, or from a secret influence of the Holy Spirit, can only be known in a future state. For the payment of the fees, and for sending his release to the prison, and for obtaining his liberty, Bunyan was indebted to the Quakers. By this patent, all fines were remitted, and that without finding security for future conduct. Bunyan's gratitude for the preservation of his life, and his deliverance from prison, shone through all his conduct. It appeared strikingly in his admirable treatise of ' Antichrist.' In the chap- ter on the instruments that God will use to bring Antichrist to his ruin : ' Let the King have verily a place in your hearts. Pray for kings ; I am for blessing of them that curse me ; and for doing good to them that hate me, and despitefully use me, and persecute me.'1 Prom this time there appears no more discord between Bunyan and the Quakers. The Ranters had separated from them, and soon disappeared ; while the Quakers became united into a most 1 See vol. ii. p. 74. useful church of Christ, under the name of ' The Society of Friends.' When they understood each other's peaceful and pious principles, all hostility came to an end. Charles Doe states that, on the 21st of Decem- ber 1671, while Bunyan was yet a prisoner, he was, by the church at Bedford, called to the pas- toral office. This was in or about the last of his twelve years' imprisonment; and when set at liberty, he preached the gospel publicly at Bed- ford, and about the countries, and at London, with very great success, being mightily followed every- where.2 From this time to his peaceful removal to the celestial city, he was divinely protected, and his liberty preserved, in the midst of the severe per- secutions under which many of his nonconforming brethren suffered. No man in the kingdom was more fearless and uncompromising in the publi- cation of Divine truth, both through the medium of the press and of the pulpit. With him, the fear of man was swallowed up in the fear of God ; so that he boldly persevered in the path of duty, at the imminent risk of losing all his tem- poral blessings, and even life itself; and yet he was unmolested ! After producing such a work as the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' the fruit of his prison meditations ; after coming forth from his thirteen years' incarceration in a narrow, damp, wretched dungeon, which, by Divine power, had been trans- formed into the house of God and gate of heaven ; he appeared like a Christian giant, refreshed by wholesome discipline and diet. The emissaries of Satan dared not again to risk the sending him to a jail, where he might produce some other and more potent instrument for the destruction of their kingdom. Protected by his God, he devoted him- self, body, soul, and spirit, to the building up of that spiritual kingdom which disarms tyrants and despots, both civil and ecclesiastical, sets the cap- tive free, and fills the souls of those that receive it with blessing and praise. He possessed a devoted wife, to whom he was married about the year 1658, he being then a widower with four children. His marriage to his first wife, one of his biographers says, ' proves, too, I readily grant, that she had little prudence.' If by prudence he means worldly pelf, Bunyan valued it not ; they were happy in their union, and she was highly honoured. Had she been unhappy, he would have been charged as the cause of her unhappiness. She was the chosen vessel to assist him in obtaining the treasures of the gospel, and must be honoured as one of the means by which he was prepared to publish his universal guide to Chris- tian pilgrims. It was his second wife, who pleaded The Struggles INTRODUCTION BV THE EDITOR. 09 Ms cause with suoli modest intrepidity before the judges, and Bhe must have assisted him greatly in arranging his affairs, One of his oldest biographers tells us, that 'when he came abroad again, he found his temporal affairs were gone to wreck; and he had, as to them, to begin again, as if he had newly come into the world ; but yet he was not destitute of friends, who had all along supported him with necessaries, and had been very good to his family; so that, by their assistance, getting things a little about him again, he resolved, as much as possible, to decline worldly business, and give himself wholly up to the service of God." A circumstance which took place on the Gth of November 1673, must have greatly comforted him. His sufferings and ministry were a blessing to his son, Thomas, who not only became a member of his church, but was Bet apart as an occasional preacher, and exercised his ministerial gifts in the villages round Bedford. In six years after his liberation, he had published nine valuable treatises, among which were his con- troversial books with his Baptist brethren; and then he, having overcome all his scruples, pub- lished, although against the wish of some of his friends, the First Part of this greatest of all his labours, bis vade-mecum of the heaven-ward pil- grim, by which his memory is embalmed and his name diffused throughout all the Christian churches of every sect and denomination. CHAPTER V. WAS BUNYAN ASSISTED IN THE COMPOSITION OF HIS PILGRIM ? To this question take his own reply — * Some say the Pilgrim's Progress is not mine, Insinuating as if I would shine In name and fame by the worth of another, Like some made rich by robbing of their brother. Or that so fond I am of being sire, I'll father bastards : or, if need require, I'll tell a lie in print to get applause. I scorn it ; John such dirt-heap never was, Since God converted him. Let this suffice To show why I my Pilgrim patronize. ' It came from mine own heart, so to my head, And thence into my liugers trickled ; Then to my pen, from whence immediately On paper I did dribble it daintily. ' .Manner and matter too was all miue own, Nor was it unto any mortal known, 'Till I had done it. Nor did any then, By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, Add five words to it, or wrote half a line Thereof: the whole, and ev'ry whit is miue. 'Also for this- thiue eye is now upon, The matter in this manner came from none, Hut the same heart and head, fingers and pen, As did the other. Witness all good nun; Eor none in all the world without a lie, Can Bay that this is mine, excepting 1. I write not this of any ostentation, Nor 'cause I seek of men their commendation ; I do it to keep them from such surmise, As tempt them will my name to scandalize. "Witness my name, if anagram'd to thee, The letters make, Nu honey in a B. ' John Bunyan.' I dare not presume to say, that I know I hare hit rigbl i.: everything ; but this I can say, I have endeavoured so to do. True, I have not for these things fished in other men's waters ; my Bible and Concordance are my only library in my writings.' 3 He who doubts the word of John Bunyan, knows nothing of the character and soul of a man who j suffered nearly thirteen years' imprisonment in Bedford jail, rather than utter a falsehood or use tho slightest simulation. Such objectors deserve chastisement in Doubting Castle, and should be flogged with the royal garter — Honi soil qui mal y pense. But such there have been from 1G78 to a late period ; and the same feeling which led the Scribes and Pharisees to reject the Messiah, he- cause he appeared as the son of a carpenter, pro- bably has led authors of great repute to express their doubts as to the originality of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' because the author was an unlettered man — the reason why, as his pastor says, ' the archers shot so sorely at him.' Dr. Dibdin, in his Typographical Antiquities, describing C axton 's Pilgrimage of the Soul, says — 'This extraordinary production, rather than Ber- nard's Me of Man, laid the foundation of John Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress.'"4 The late Dr. Adam Clarke, in a Postscript to a Life of Bunyan, observes that ' his whole plan being so very similar to Bernard's religious allegory, called the Isle of Man, or, Proceedings in Mansldre; and also to that most beautiful allegorical poem, by Mr. Ed- mund Spenser, oddly called the Faery Queen, there is much reason to believe that one or other, if not both, gave birth to the " Pilgrim's Progress."'5 Mr. Montgomery, a devoted admirer of Bunyan's genius, considers that the print and the verses en- titled Tlie Pilgrim, in Whitney's Emblems, dedi- cated to the Earl of Leicester, in 1585, might, perhaps, have inspired the first idea of tbis extra- ordinary work.6 Southey, who investigated this subject with great ability, came to a very pointed conclusion: *It would, indeed, be as impossible for me to believe 1 Life, 18mo, 1692; re-published by Ivimey, 1832, p. 31. - The ' Holy War,' in which these lines were inserted. 3 Preface to ' Solomon's Temple Spiritualized.' 4 Vol. i. p. 153. 5 Bunyan's Pilgrim : an Epic Poem by C. C. V. G., ISil, p. 44. 6 Montgomery's Christian Poet. 30 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. that Bunyan did not write the " rilgrhn's Pro- gress," as that Porson did write a certain copy of verses entitled the Devil's T/iouglcls.' Now, as these verses were doubtless written by Southey himself, he had arrived at a conviction that Bun- yan was fully entitled to all the honour of con- ceiving and writing his great allegory. Still, he says, ' the same allegory had often been treated before him. Some of these may have fallen in Bunyan's way, and modified his own conceptions when he was not aware of any such influence." It is high time that these questions were fully inves- tigated, and set at rest. It must be kept in mind that Bunyan knew no language but his own ; and that all his characters, as well as the trial by jury, are purely English. When he used five common Latin words in Dr. Skill's prescription, Ex came el sanguine Cliristi, this perfectly unassuming author tells his readers, in a marginal note, ' Tlie Laline I boirow.' It is absurd to suppose that learned men read to him old monkish manuscripts, or the allegories of a previous age ; for his design was unknown, he had formed no plan, nor had he any intention to have written such a book, until it came upon him sud- denly. His first idea was inspired from one of his own works while composing it, and then the whole story flowed into his mind as quick as he could write it. Every attempt has been made to tarnish his fair fame ; the great and learned, the elegant poet and the pious divine, have asserted, but with- out foundation in fact, or even in probability, that some of his ideas were derived from the works of previous writers. Every assertion or suggestion of this kind that came to my knowledge, has been investigated, and the works referred to have been analyzed. And beyond this, every allegorical work that could be found previous to the eighteenth century, has been examined in all the European languages ; and the result is a perfect demonstration of the complete ori- ginality of Bunyan. ' It came from his own heart.' The plot, the characters, the faithful dealing, are all his own. And what is more, there has not been found a single phrase or sentence borrowed from any other book, except the quotations from the Bible, and the use of common proverbs. To arrive at this conclusion has occupied much time and labour, at intervals, during the last forty years. The works read and analyzed commence with our monkish manuscripts, and continue through the printed books published prior to the Reformation, when the church, having no competition in the cure of souls, spoke out without disguise ; and from that time to 1678, when our Pilgrim ap- peared. Many, if not all the works so examined, 1 Southey's L'/e of Banyan, p, x'1. contain useful information ; and some of them show what was taught by the Church of England when she refused the Bible to the laity, and was uni- formed. And, as m}r readers ought to judge for themselves, while, in most cases, these rare volumes are beyond their reach, it may prove useful to print these analyses, and then every reader can form his own opinion as to the probability, or rather the impossibility, of Bunyan's having gained any idea, or phrase, or name, from any source but his own prolific imagination. My determination in all these researches has been to report the whole truth ; and had it been discovered that some hints might have been given by previous writers, it would not have been any serious reflection upon the originality of a work which has no prototype. This idea is well represented by Mr. Montgomery : ' If the Nile could be traced to a thousand springs, it would still be the Nile ; and so far undishonoured by its obligations, that it would repay them a thousand-fold, by reflecting upon the nameless streams, the glory of being allied to the most re- nowned of rivers.'2 But there has been no dis- covery of any tributary spring; no borrowed phrases; no more hints, even, than such as naturally arise from the open treasury or storehouse of Holy Writ. The greatest characteristic of original genius is its spontaneous exertion — the evidence of having written without labour and without the conscious- ness of doing anything remarkable, or the ambi- tious aim of doing a great work. The greatest efforts of genius flow as naturally as it is for com- mon men to breathe. In this view, Bunyan's work comes nearer to the inspired poetry of the Hebrews in its character than any other human composition. He wrote from the impulse of his genius, sanctified and illuminated by a heavenly influence ; as if, indeed, he had exerted no volun- tary supervision over its exercise. Everything is as natural and unconstrained as if it had not been intended for public inspection. There has not been found any model with which it can even be compared.3 It is a beautiful transparency, seen as the heavenly light shines through — the renewed spirit alone enjoys the picture in its perfection, with all its chaste but glowing colours. It can be fully appreciated only by him who possesses that spiritual light without which the things of God and heaven cannot be discerned. Bunyan's works furnish ample proof that his mind was preparing, for many years, the plan and incidents which render this allegory so striking. This may easily be traced in his works, although it was not known to himself; for, however he was all his spiritual life employed in unintentionally pre- 2 Introductory Essay to the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' p. xxv. ColHus. 8 Dr. Chccver. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. ill paring the material, the design struck him suddenly. Twenty years beforo his great work appeared, he published a most pungent work, called ' Sighs from Ilell.' The preface to this book alludes to u pilgrimage ; and in it is found some similar ideas to those which occur in the conversation between Christian and Pliable. It thus commences: 1 Friend, because it is a dangerous thing to be walking towards a place of darkness, the journey that must of the pour souls in the world are taking with delight, I have thought it my duty to tell thee what sad success those souls have had, and are like to have, by persevering therein. Why, friend, hast thou thy back to heaven and thy face to hell; and art thou running full hastily that way ? 1 beseech thee, stop thy earnest race, and look what entertainment thou art like to have. Hark ! dost thou hear the bitter cries of those who have gone before ; shall not these mournful groans pierce thy flinty heart ? 0 ! sinner, sinner, there are better things than hell to be had, and a thou- sand times cheaper. 0 ! there is no comparison ; there is heaven, there is God, there is Christ, there is communion with an innumerable company of saints and angels.' How do these ideas remind us of Christian's encouraging words to Fliable ! In examining the following accounts of allegories composed by learned doctors, bishops, and divines, the simple Christian will rejoice and triumph in the amazing superiority of a poor unlettered preaching mechanic, guided only by his Bible. Sanctified learning is exceedingly valuable ; yet the produc- tions of an unlettered man, wholly influenced by the Holy Oracles, shines resplendeutly over the la- boured, murky productions of lettered men, who, for- saking the simplicity of the gospel, are trammelled with creeds, confessions, canons, articles, decretals, fathers, and, we may almost add, grandfathers. The first work, in the order of time, that claims our notice, has never been printed. It is called Tlte Pilgrim. This ancient poem, a manuscript on vellum, illustrated with drawings, but very much damaged, is in the Cottonian Collec- tion in the British Museum; probably translated in the fifteenth century from the first of the Three Pilgrimages, a French manuscript. It is in the form of a dream, and it concludes by fixing the pilgrim as a monk in a Cistercian monastery. Soon after setting out, he is tempted by a golden image, but is driven from it by the appearance of a dead corpse. He then en- couuters an armed man, who eudeavours to entice him to turn aside to see his mistress, and uses a magic circle and incanta- tions. They hold a long conversation, in which is narrated the case of a Duke Fryse, who had consented to be baptized ; he is represented with a girdle about his middle, otherwise naked, except his crown ; but when he had got into the bap- | tistery, he becomes alarmed by a voice which informs him that it is an unlucky7 day : — ' For hym thought he hcrde a cry That aflcrmed certeyuly For synnc and for Inyqnyte How mo folk schulde dampned be At the day of Jugenieute Gon to helle there to be brcut, Ye mo as in comparisoun Tlianne folk for thcr savacyon Scholde that day rcceyucd be To dwelle iu hcucue that fayrc cyte.' The duke, although a bishop has got him by one hand, with one of his legs in the baptistery, gets his liberty, and runs away. Had sprinkling been the practice in those days, the bishop might readily have managed the ceremony with a handful of water. The pilgrim then has a very long adventure with Heresy, who strives earnestly to draw bin aside. She is engaged with a pair of scissors, cutting strips from Pelagians, Allans, and other ' Sectys founde false and vutrcwe.' These she puts together, to form a new system of divinity. He becomes sadly puzzled ; she had laid her nets so artfully, ' In loud, on water, and in the hayr.' He sees many attempt to pass, but all are entangled j at length by fasting and by great penance, he slips through the nets. He is then assaulted by Satan, who tells him that he has devoured thousands of Christ's flock, and has so many arts that he cannot escape him. The devil, to terrify the pilgrim, narrates a recent adventure by which he had succeeded in destroying a holy hermit. He had transformed himself into an angel of light, and went to the hermit, warning him that Satan would soon overcome him if he was not courageous to resist; that he would appear to him in the shape of his father, aud if he parleyed with the fiend, he must be lost; and ex- horted him to smite the fiend at once with sword or knife. Soon after this, his father really came to visit him, when the deluded hermit plunged a dagger to his heart, aud thus fell into the jaws of the fiend. The pilgrim, much terrified, kept crossing himself, at which Satan drew back ; and by continu- ing to make the sign of the cross, he makes his escape. He is then stopped by Fortune and her Wheel, and by Idolatry, but evades them. A fortune-teller wishes him to have his nativity cast, but as he knows that many men are born at the same moment, some to fortune and many to misery, he knows that there can be no virtue in such consultations of the stars. He is then profited by images in churches, to remind us of the holy lives of saints ; — ' And vu to folkes many on [a one] Ful greet proifyte also they dun.' Sorcery endeavours to catch him with her crooked hook ; and he is assailed by Worldly-gladness, but escapes. At length Grace Dieu visits him in a stately ship, having a palace aud castle on deck. He embarks, and is shown a large baptistery, filled with tears from an eye in a rock. This bath is replenished with tears of repentance, by works of supererogation. Its virtues are thus described : — 1 For it re-cureth euery wounde Call this Baptym the sccunde That dothe away alle greuance With which water Dame peuaunce Makyth a lye1 I the ensure To wasche away al ordure, In whiehe bath in certayne The hooly woinmau Mawdelyue Iwashen was tak heed her to The Apostle Peter eke also And many mo than I may telle Were Iwaschen in this welle 1 ' A lye ;' water impregnated with alkaline salt. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. And so schalt thou by reed of me Yeue thou lyste to purged be.' Grace Dieu fills up the bath, and the pilgrim, naked, enters the baptistery to his middle, and is bathed and washed. She then tells him he may make his choice of monastic orders — Cisterces, Clunys, Charterhous, or Preechers Minours: he chooses to enter the Cistercian order. The porter, 'Drede of God,' at first refuses him ; but Charity receives and shows him over the establishment : he is shown many books. The librarian says : — ' And my name zeue thou lyste be Is called Agyographe, Which is to seyne I the ensure Of holy wrytynge the Scripture, And at feyres and at feestis I reste in skynues oft' dede bestis.' She expresses a clear notion of the Old Testament as en- lightened by the New: — ' I mene as thus in sentement, That the oolde testament "Were derke and cloudy off his syght Zeue that it ne took his lyght Claryfyed by eutendemeut Oil' the newe testament, Whos schynynge in conclusyoun Is cause off our Salvacyoun.' He is shown a mirror, which exhibits the sins of the person who looks in it ; he is also shown one of Flattery's mirrors, which exhibits the most defiled, as angels of purity. He is at length introduced to the chief prior, Obedience, and sits down to dinner : — ' And also as I dyde obserue, Noon other folke at mete serue But folkes deede euere more Where off I was abaschyd sore.' Abstinence is the freytourer and butler ; the servants were the skeletons of those who had founded and endowed the abbey. Wilful Poverty, in a state of nudity, sings a song, ending with — ' I slepe in Joye and sekerness For theues may not robbe me.' Unwilling Poverty sits grumbling and murmuring. Dame Chastity at last introduces the pilgrim to Prayer, who makes him welcome in these lines : — ' Wherefore callyd I am Prayere Whiche that am the messagere That flee to heuene with whynges lyght, Fer aboue the sterres bryght To fore the lord to present Prayer made iu good entente.' He then speaks to the pilgrim about the servants, who were the spectres of the founders : — ' And cche wyght for his good dede Is worthi to resseyue his mede Lyke his meryte off equyte These dcede folk which thou dost se.' Grace Dieu, Obedience, Latrya, and Prayer, then give him instructions for his future conduct in the monastery, where he remains until death strikes him, and he awakes from his sleep. There is an ancient pilgrimage noticed in Skel- ton's Eyght Delectable Treaty se upon a Goodly Garlande or Cliapelet of Laurell. The author re- counts his literary labours; inter alia — ■ ' Of my ladys grace at the contemplacyoun Owt of frenshe in to englysshe prose Of mannes lyfe the peregrynacioun He did translate, enterprete and disclose.' No copy of this pilgrimage has been discovered and identified as his ; and very high authority con- nects the second hue with the ' peregrynatioun.' If so, it is in prose ; but if the first two lines refer to the Contemplation on the Virgin Mary's Grace, a prose work, and Skelton being a poet, it would lead us to infer that the pilgrimage was in verse. The poem last described maj prove to be the trans- lation referred to by Skelton. Be that as it may, Bunyan never gained a hint from John Skelton, the satirist. The Abbey of the Holy GJwst. This curious allegory was written by John Al- cocke, the founder of Jesus College, Cambridge, a learned and abstemious English bishop, in the reign of Henry VII. The author represents the fall and recovery of mankind under the simile of an Abbey, the inmates of winch are perfect in holi- ness and happiness. The abbess is Charity ; the prioress, Wis- dom; the sub-prioress, Mekenesse; and the nuns, Poverty, Clean- ness, Temperance, Soberness, Penauce, Buxomness, Coufession, Righteousness, Predication, Strength, Pacience, Simplicity, Mercy, Largeness, Reason, Pity, Meditation, Orison, Devocion, Contemplation, Chastity, Jubilation, Honesty, Curtesy, Fear, and Jealousy. This abbey was conveyed by the Almighty to Adam, Eve, and their heirs for ever, upon condition that he withstood the temptation of the fiend and that of his wife. The deed is witnessed by angels and man, heaven and earth, sun and moon, stars, and all creatures. Geven at Paradise, the first day that man was made ; in the year of the reigning of Almighty God, King of Kings, whose kingdom never began nor never shall have end. No persons were to be admitted until Conscience had cleansed the soul with grace of the Holy Ghost. Two maidens, called Love and Righteousness, shall cast away from Conscience all manner of filth ; Meekness and Poverty shall keep them poor in spirit. The abbey was situated upon the waters of repentance. Joy and Mercy built the walls and strengthened them with alms. Patience and Strength are the pillars and buttresses. The nuns have each her place ; Contemplation is the doctor ; Devo- tion the butler [the bishop remarks, ' Alas 1 if I durst say, full many be in religion (nuns), but few be religious']; Ory- son shall be chanter. St. Bernard saith, When we pray in good life, our good Angel danseth and maketh thereof a present to the Father of heaven. The abbey being so well furnished, a tyrant came, and in an evil hour, while the portress was absent, he put in his four daughters, who were all of shrewd manners; the fiend father of them all. Their names were Pride, Envy, False Judgment, and Lust ; and these destroyed the abbey, and dispersed the inmates. The punishment of man was the loss of Paradise, to spend his days in sorrow, to eat grass that groweth on the earth, and never to come to bliss until the abbey was restored. When Adam and Eve died, their souls went to hell ; and not only they, but all those that of them came for four thousand six hundred years ; to hell INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 83 they went, every one. Then some of the nuns prayed the Holy Ghost for assistance. David, Isaiah, and others, endeavoured to re-edify the abbey ; but in vain. At length Christ came, and sought out the abbess aud her company for thirty-three years; and at last brought them together by hanging on the cross; after which he led them with him into hell,1 and took OOt Adam and Eve bis wife, and all his friends, and replaced them in the Abbey of the Holy Ghost in Paradise. From this curious and very rare little volume, Banyan conld not have gained any idea ; but iu it are some translations of - of Scripture made fifty years before any version of the Bible was published in English, which prove the great liberties the church touk with the Scriptures; and the extent to which they misled the people, while the Holj Oracles were locked up in a foreign language. Matt. iii. 2: ' Shrive ye and do ye penance, and be ye of good belief; the kingdom of heaven nigheth fast.' John viii. G : ' He stooped down aud wrote on the ground with his finger all their sins, so that each of them might se how sinfull other was.' Matt. xxvi. 38 : ' I have, he said, full much dread against that I shall die. Sit ye down, he said, aud wake ye, and bid your beads till I come again to you.' 2 The Pylgremage of the Sowle. Printed by Wil- liam Caxton. 1483. Small Folio.3 Dr. Dibilin having, in his account of this very rare volume, stated that ' this extraordinary pro- duction, which, perhaps, rather than Bernard's Idle 0/ Man, laid the foundation of John Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress," ' I shall make no apology to the reader for the following specimens of its poetry and prose. Not daring to trust to the doctor's specimens, which occupy eight folio pages, my analysis is drawn from a careful perusal of the original edition by Caxton, compared with the manuscript written in 1413 ; the result is, to estab- lish honest John's originality, and to excite great surprise that the learned doctor could have pub- lished so unfounded an insinuation. As I laye in a seynt laurence nyght, slepyng in my bedde, me bifelle a full merueylous drenie. Having finished my pilgrimage and laid aside my fleshly carrion, it appeared loathsome and dame Misericord buried it. The fowle horrible Satan cruelly menaced me and told me I was his prisoner — a youngling of full huge beauty appeared, and defends the soul of the pilgrim, who is taken to judgement. He is brought before Michael, while his good angel pleads for him Satan cries loudly agaiust him. The devils complain that as soon as a pilgrim is born and washed in the salt lye (christened) Grace Dieu assigns them a guardian angel — we are ill used, let us cry a row so loud that in spite of them they shall hear our complaint. Peter the porter of heaven is called to testify whether the pilgrims have done penance — Call St. George for the Gentiles, for clerks St. Nicholas, for hermits St. Anthony, St. Benet for monks, for wedded folk St. Paul — not that he was ever married, but he taught the duties of marriage — for 1 Hence 'the descent into hell' in a Popish creed, falsely called ' the Apostles' Creed.' - From a copy in the Editor's library, printed by "Wynkin de Worde. 8 British Museum, 21, d. VOL. III. widows St. Anne, for maids St. Kathcrine. The Pilsrim is placed before the tribunal, aud his guardian angel pleads that he bad kept bis belief, never lost his scrip, nor bis burden,* aud having persevered to the end, he ought to be safe. The corsed Satan acknowledged that the Pilgrim passed the water and was tin rein washed and fully cleansed of all rather fylthe,5 but as soon as he knew good and evil he set little by that washing, but cast himself like a swine in ordure and fylthe. He was washed at a tender age unwillingly, and although by this laver the fold spot of sin original was utterly avoided, yet he has not kept the vow, and is more spotted with deadly sin than he was before he was washed ; aud as all heathen men that have never received this laver belong to our Company because they have it not, much more those that have received these gifts of Grace de Dieu and despised them must be ours. The soul pleads in verse, he appeals to Jesus. Some of the lines are striking : ' For though there ran a river from thy side, That all the world doth fully overflow, Thy grace is whole, as every man may know.' He then appeals to Mary — ' Now be my help a blissful heaven's Quene Let somewhat of the grace on me be seen I am be-knowen that I have done amiss Eternal death deserved with my deed But gracious Lady Queen of Heaven's bliss Thou be my help and comfort in this nede I am that same that highly have mis-wrought Against thy child Jesu3 and eke thee Yet know I well that Lion is he not Nor thou nor might no Lioness be In thou there is no malice nor cruelty Though that I have thy son and the agrieved By thee is all my trust to be relieved.' ° He calls upon Michael — John Baptist, apostles aud martyrs, and all saints. Justice pleads agaiust him, and will allow none to speak 011 his behalf. He then answers for himself, and accuses Satan of being a liar; but the fiend calls the worm of conscience1 to bear witness against him, and he relates all his wickedness that was not purged with penance, and as he spoke, Satan wrote it all down in a great paper. The soul defends himself by having at all times borne his burdon and scrip,8 by his natural frailty and the temptations of Satan and allurements of the world. Mercy pleads for him that he had been contrite, and made amends for sin, and had confessed ; but when his good and bad deeds were weighed, the evil was heaviest. Then Mercy flew to heaven and brought back a pardon from Jesus, which is given in verse ; inter alia : — ' At instance of mine own mother sweet To whom I may no manner of thing deny And mercy also may I not forget Unto their good 9 myself I will apply This grace I grant them of my royalty That I shall them receive unto my peace Of hell pain I grant them full release.' 4 The pilgrim's staff. 5 ' Rather fylthe ;' early pollution, original sin. 6 Reader, this is undisguised Popery, published to the world before the Reformation, by the Church of Rome. Judge for yourself. Do Papists pray to the Virgin ? Is she their inter- cessor and saviour ? 7 Syndercsys. 8 II is staff or vows. 9 ' Bone' in the poem. The French word not translated SI THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. CLrist balances the wicked works of this sinner with — ' Of the treasure of my bitter passion And of the merit of my mother dear To whom none other hath comparison "With merit of my saints all in fear That to my bidding full obedient were Of plenty and of superabundance A forset J full which putteth in balance.' The balance is in favour of the soul, and his sentence is to bear all his sins as a burden into purgatory, and abide in the fire until all are burned and ' thou, clean purged of all thy foul sins, shall then be pardoned.' At this sentence Satan is sore annoyed, and has great anguish. He meets a number of pilgrims from purgatory, who sing to the Trinity and to Mary a song of praise for their deliverance. The angels join in a song without comparison more lusty than he had heard before. Then came one pilgrim, conducted by a huge number of angels, each having in his hand some lusty instrument, as harp, organs, kc, some of which he could not scribe. It was a soul who, by extraordinary penance, had suf- fered his purgatory on earth. He then sees a number of pilgrims condemned to 'brenne withynne the fyre of helle, neuer to be releued.' An ugly company of devils seized them, saying, ' Goo we fast in to helle ; there shall we fynde a warm duellynge place.' Our poor pilgrim is taken to purgatory, where, in three days, he imagines that he has suffered a thou- sand years' indescribable tortures. His guardian angel is with him in the fire, but being a pure spirit, suffereth not. In his torments, he is told that naught can help him but masses and the good ' dedes of hooly chirche.' He asks, "What is the use of the pardons and indulgences granted by the church ? His angel tells him that they abridge the time of punishment and pain; that for every deadly sin he must suffer seven years' purgation, and the thousand years that he had suffered was but as a moment, for his fardel of sins seemed to be as huse as ever, although the fire was so fierce, that if the great sea fell therein, it would be dried in a moment. At length, Grace Dieu sends from the church a quantity of prayers, masses, and good works, to comfort the pilgrims in purgatory — a packet to each prisoner, with the names of those who had purchased the masses for their relief. Every soul answered the summons, and greedily took the relief, all swimming in hot fire : it was ointment that relieved their horrid pains, and decreased their burden of sins. He then discovers the place in which Adam and the Fathers, to John the Baptist, were confined, till Christ descended into hell and released them. The prison also in which the souls of infants who had died without being christened — a dark and doleful place, where they will be shut up for ever. He inquires how it is possible for the God of love thus to condemn the innocent ? His angel refers him to the words of Christ to Nicodemus : ' As seynt John recordeth, he seith, that an innocent deyng \cithout hajitym is damjmed tcithouted ende.' 2 And they lay in endless darkness, and never know joy : and this pain shall be extended to all the most innocent souls not baptized. All these places of punishment are within enclosed all round by the earth. He is then led by his angel to the surface of the earth, the fire still burning within him, to every place in which he had committed sin ; the punishment was according to the nature of his crime — sometimes shut up in thick ice, the pain being more intolerable than fire. This was for having used baths and stenes s for easement of his body. One soul who had been purged, could not escape, 1 ' A forset ;.' a bundle. 2 Stranee perversion of the words, ' Ye must be born asain ! ' 3 Bra!,.-; because his executors had neglected to pay his debts. He finds that one day's penance upon earth cleanseth from sins more than years of purgatory. In the journey he finds his bones, and has a long conversation with them, in which they mutually criminate each other. His guardian angel then takes him into the very depth of the earth, to hell, the stink of which nearly caused his soul to burst. The unbaptized innocents he saw in a place: ' Hit was wonder merueylous blacke and derke ynowe :' ever flying about seeking, but never finding, a hole to escape. He then came to a darker place of ' fire horrible and wonder hideous.' There saw he the cursed fiends ; some blew the fire ; some, with iron forks, righted the brands ; some, with sharp hooks, dressed the wretched souls into divers pains. Lucifer sat in a red-hot iron chair, chained with red-hot chains. The devils torment each other. The punishment of Pride is that a devil sits upon her head, and befouls her as much as he can. Hypocrites are trodden perpetually under foot by devils, ingulfed in fire and stink. The envious and backbiters were hung by red-hot iron hooks through their tongues over eternal flames. Judas thus hung, but as his mouth had kissed the king, his lips shined like gold ; and his tongue was drawn out through his neck, and he hung in hottest flames. Traitors were broken upon wheels, fixed by hooks turning swiftly round ; the same punishment was inflicted upon lawyers, proctors, and counsel, who, to fill their purses, had pleaded for the guilty against the innocent. Upon seeing a number of souls being devoured by wolves, but never eaten; others having molten brass poured down their throats, he swooned, but is revived by his angel. These were the punishments of extortioners. Angry people were tied up in bundles, and pitched into fiery furnaces; drunk- ards were laid upon burning coals, with sulphur, their throats slit, and tongues drawn through the slit ; the lechours were laid upon beds of burning thorns, full of venomous and huge toads and worms, for ever biting and gnawing them. The boiling caldron and pit of hell was boiling full of heretics ; and when our Lord shall renew the world, all their burning and stinking and horrible pains shall be renewed, and all the filth that may be found in every other place, shall be cast thereto. He then ascends to the earth, and sees the tree from which Eve plucked the apple, and which, after process of time, formed the cross on which the Saviour suffered. Then follows a number of dialogues between the Trinity, regarding the scheme of mercy. His purgation being finished, and sins consumed, his angel took him by the hand, and began to mount towards heaven. The angel shows him many mansions ; tells him how saints' days are to be kept. In the feast of the Purification, the cherubims sing this song : — * Heryed4 be thou blysfull henen quene And worshyped mote0 thou be in euery place That moder art and very mayden clene Of god our lord thou geten hast that grace Thou cause of ioyes arte, and of solace By meryte of thy great humylyte And by the fioure of thy vyrgynyte Honoured be thou, blessyd lady bryght By thy person embelysshed is nature Of heuen blysse augmented is the lyght By presence of so fayre a creature Thy worthynesse passeth al mesure For vnto thyn estate Imperyall No preysynge is that may be peregaL' 6 Heryed;' praised- 1 Mote :' must. 'Peregal;' equal •from which is derived hu-rah. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 35 In the feast of Ascension the father honoured the sone ; and at the feast of Ac-sumption, the Sou honoured and worshipped his mother. Song of angels on Easter day, to the Saviour, is — * When thou were dead, to hell thou descended And fetched them out that lay there in pain.' The angel illustrates to him the doctrine of the Trinity, hy the world being round, without beginning or end; having I breadth, length, and depth, which three, by unity in measure, comprises one world. So in a body is matter, form, and sub- stance ; if one of these be missing, it is imperfect. So the matter is likened to the Father, the form to the Son, and the substance to the Holy Ghost. So to every perfect work, there must be might, cunning, and will. He then asks, that as these three are one, how came it that one was separated and became incarnate alone ? This is accounted for, as a snnbeam does not leave the sun, but enliveneth the earth ; so the Son illuminated the world, being clothed with man's flesh in the blessed maiden, and yet departed he not from his Father's presence. When properly prepared, the angel went to clear his way to heaven, and as he looked after him, a ' wonder huge light' descended from the high heaven, smiting on his eye, and awoke him from his sleep ; whereof he was full sorry, after having seemed to live so many thousand years ; the clock struck twelve, and the bell tolled midnight, and he remembered that he had not slept three hours while all these adventures had passed. Now Jesus give us grace to come to this bliss ! Translated in 1413, and printed by ^W. Caxton, June 6, 1483. There is, in the British Museum,' a very fine and curious MS. copy of this very singular work, illus- trated with rude illuminated drawings. It finishes with, ■ Here endith the dreem of the pilgrimage of the soule, translated owt of the Frensch in to En- glysche. The yere of our Lord iLCCCCsm.' The translator craves indulgence, if ' in som places ther it be ouer fantastyk nought grounded nor foundable in Holy Scripture, ne in docteors wordes, for I my ght not go fro myn auctor.' The original work was written in verse hy Guil- laume de Guillonville, prior of Chaalis, about 1330. TJie Booke of the Pylgrymage of Man. 4to, 26 leaves. Woodcut of Pilgrim, with staff and cockle-shell, and clasped book in his left hand.2 Here begynneth a boke, in Frenche called, le pelerynage de L'homme (in latyn, peregrinatio humani generis), aud in oure Maternal tunge, the pylgrymage of mankynd, of late drawen and in compendiouce prose copouded by the reuerent father in god dane william3 hendred Prioure of the honourable place and 1 Addit. MSS., Bibl. Eg. 615. It was bought of Mr. Rodd, ■ 1S36 ; but appears to want the first leaf of the text. - This rare book is in the library of Queen's College, Oxford. I am indebted to my friend, Mr. Underbill, for the above analysis. 3 Guillaime de Guilleville, moine de chaliz. It was printed in Paris byAllerard; not dated, but about the year 1500. Mr. Greswell, in his notice of this book, says, ' Not only in early ages, but in later also, mankind have been found less willing to be instructed by abstract reasoning, than by fables or similitudes. Hence the popularity of these old religious fictions. The "Pilgrim's Pkogeess"' of our day confessedly excels all others of its kind. And though some have endea- pryory of Leomynstre : and now newly, at the specyal com- maundemente of the same Father reuerent, I haue compyled the tenure of the same in Metre comprehended in xxvi. chaptours as ensnynge appereth. THE TABLE. First, the prologe, with the exposyon and enterpretacyon of the name of their sayd reuerent father in God. Item how man was made of viij partyes. Capitulo primo. Item how almyghty god put adam into paradyce, and of his first age. Ca. ...... ij Item the secounde age of mankynde, and howe y* sonnes of noe Bylded the Toure of Babylon. Cap. Item how man procedyd his thirde age, and of the synkynge of cyties. Ca. iiij Item howe Moyses receyuyd ij tables of the lawe in the iiij age of man. Ca v Item howe kyng Salamon byldyd the temple of god in the Cytie of Jerusalem. Ca. ..... vi Item howe the vj age enduryd telle che commvnge of oure sauyoure. Ca. . . . . . v ij Item how mankynde endured and of the nombre of yeres from the begynnynge of the worlde to the byrthe of criste. Ca Item howe almyghty God was pylgrym for iij causes and howe he gaue mankynde ensample to do hi; grymage. Ca. ....... ix Item which iij synguler poyntys apperteyne to a pyl- gryme. Ca. ....... x Item howe mankynde entereth the londe of June at the age of Lx. Ca xi Item an exposition autorysed by Scripture of y* concep- tion of seynt John Bapryst. Ca. . . . : Item howe mankynde entereth into a kyngdome namyd the londe of July and parte of the marterdome of seynt Thomas of cauntorbury. Ca, . . . . xij Item a parable of auctorytie of the hooly order of seynt Benet. Ca. ...... Item how mankynde enteryth the empyre of august and of the aboundaunte welth that there is. Ca. . . xv Item howe mankynde enteryth and goeth thorowe the dukedome of September. Ca. . . . . xvj Item howe mankynde enteryth into the londe of October at the age of a C. yere. Ca. ..... xvij Item how mankynde enteryth the barury of Nonembre. C Item howe mankynde enteryth the lordshyp of Decem- ber. Ca. xix Item howe mankynde goth thorowe the londe of January and of the strastye that coste. Ca. xx Item howe mankynde enteryth the londe of February. Ca. xxi Item howe man procedyth his pylgrymage in and thorowe the londe of Marche. Ca. xx'j Item howe Batayle was mayntaynd bytwene sol Justice and pluto duke o tenebris. Ca niij Item howe vyse toke the fowarde on his party, and howe sol Justitie fled. Ca. niiij Item howe sol justicie turned agayne and dyscumfyte vyce and wanne the feld. Ca. ..... xxv Item the conclucyon of this boke. Ca. . . . xi . i Here endeth the table. ' We hym folowynge a full good spede. - :ly anone the skrymysche beganne. And so sure for matter in d^de. voured to trace its prototype in earlier works, it was a perfectly spontaneous and original' effort of the genius of its unlettered author.' See Annals of Parisian Tutographi/, p. 245. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Uyce with his felysshyp faste laycd on That voce mea was agast soone. Thenne oure capteyne Sol iusticie. With In manus tuas away dyd flye. In to a darke vale that was nygh hy. But yet at the desyre and specyall request. Of a gracyouse man callyd domine exaudi. He came agayne and shortly in haste. To ayde us there came one hyeng faste. "Whiche is callyd with all and some. Benedictus qiu venit ad prelium.' So he sets out with Beatus vir for a guide, and enters the land of June — a royal land, full of pleasures and fruits, of which he eat plenteously in every lane ; then came to a place held hy the ' Pope of June,' where was the cleanest castell in Xtendom, called, ' castell of corpus xti :' — ' Of whiche indulgence hy auctorytye The founder is called by naturall sext Of the romaynes romanus pontifex,' where man could be healed from worldly wretchedness and sinful sore. His guide then led him to dominus iUuminatio for a safe- conduct in all the lands they should visit : — * So for to purchas a parfyte wryte. To soule justicie we tote our way. Sealed to haue oure saffe condyte. And he shortly sayde not nay. But also haue us of his lyuery. A fencyble garment Joyntly compylcd. With fayth and hope that we exiled.' They then come to a monastery, &c. Emprynted at London by me Richard Faques, dwellyng in Poulys churche yerde at the sygne of the Maydynhed. The informacym for pylgrymes unto the holy lande, Tliat is to wyt to Rome, to Jherusalem and to Many Oilier Holy Places. Imprinted by Wyn- kin de Worde. 1524.1 This rare volume is a hand-book for pilgrims; gives the routes, coin, conveyances, fees, and other instructions to those who were going on any distant pilgrimage. It also contains the narrative of a pilgrim in his journey to the Holy Land. Sixty-six pilgrims sailed from Venice in one ship ; they visit Jerusalem and other places in the Holy Land. He gives the pronunciation of useful words to enable future visitors to ask for bread, wine, &c. It is a very rare tract, but there is nothing allegorical about the narrative, which is simply of the facts as they took place. The next allegorical work in chronological order, representing life as a pilgrimage, is Tlte Histcnie of Graunde Amoure and la bell Pucel; called the Pastime of Pleasure, containing (lie Knowledge of (lie Seven Sciences, and the Course of Man's Life in this Worlde. Invented by Stephen Hawes, Grome of King Henry the 1 Retrospective Review, vol. ii. p. 327. Seuenth his Chamber. Printed by John Way- lande, 1554. Small 4to. Such is the rarity of this volume, that, although it wants six leaves, it bears this iuscription on the fly-leaf, ' I bought this Volume at Mr. Bindley 's sale, January 21st, 1813, for the inordinate sum of forty guineas. James Boswell ' (Author of the Life of Dr. Johnson). Mr. Hallam, in his Literature of Europe, gives a good account of this poem : — ' From the title we might hardly expect a learned allegory, in which the seven sciences of the trivium and quadrivium, besides a host of abstract virtues and qualities, play their parts in living personality. It is rude, obscure, full of pedantic Latinisms, but learned and philosophical. The best, though probably an un- expected, parallel for Hawes, is John Bunyan ; their inventions are of the same class, various and novel ; their characters, though abstract in name, have a personal truth about them ; they render the general allegory subservient to inculcating a system, the one of philosophy, the other of religion. I do not mean that the Pastime of Pleasure is equal in merit, as it certainly has not been in success, to the "Pilgrim's Progress." Bunyan is powerful and picturesque, from his concise simplicity; Hawes has thecommon failings of our old writers — a tedious and languid diffuseness, an expatiating on themes of pedantry in which the reader takes no interest, a weakening of every feature and every reflection, by ignorance of the touches that give effect. Hawes was educated at Oxford, and travelled much on the Continent, and held an office in the Court of Henry VII. He was the earliest of our learned and accomplished gentlemen. ' Hawes 's work was the result of a learned educa- tion, great connections, an extensive knowledge of the world, and singular ability ; still Mr. Hallam justly admits that the 'Pilgrim's Progress' is greatly superior as a work of genius, although Bunyan was not blessed even with the rudiments of education, no literary connections, and his travels extended not beyond his neighbouring villages. How extensive and prolific must have been the natural powers of Bunyan's mind! But compare the moral tendency of those two allegories: Hawes's inspiration is from beneath, strongly tinged with the smoke of the infernal pit ; Bunyan is inspired by heaven, his whole course is illuminated from the celestial city. His pilgrims breathe a heavenly atmosphere ; every line of his narrative has a holy, and, consequently, a happy tendency. Hawes derived his knowledge from worldly philosophers, Bunyan from the Bible. The Pastime of Pleasure is a narrative of the adventures of a love-sick knight, in search of a lady named La Bell Pucel. He is directed to the Tower of Doctrine, where he is told that INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 37 he must become proficient in Ihe seven liberal sciences, in order to win bis lady. Walking in a gay meadow, lie finds a statue, whose hands point to two paths, one of contemplative life: — 'And in the other hande, ryght fayre wryttcu was This is the waye, of worldly dignitye Of the actiue lyfe, who wyll in it passe Unto the tower, of fayre dame bcautye Fame shall tell him, of the way in certainty* Unto la bell pucell, the fayre lady excellent Aboue all other, in cleare beauty splendent.' In pursuit of this beautiful virgin he chooses the path of active life, and sets out: — ' Thus all alone, I began to trauayle Forthe on my waye, by long contiuuaunce But often times, I had great maruayle Of the by pathes, so full of pleasaunce Whiche for to take, I had great doubtance But euermore, as nere as I myght I toke the waye, whiche went before me right.' On his journey he falls asleep, and is awaked by the sound of a horn. A lovely lady, on horseback, rides swiftly up to him, accompanied by two greyhounds, with their names set in diamonds upon their collars — Grace and Govemaunce. The lady proves to be Fame ; she presents to him the two grey- hounds, praises La Bell Pucell, and instructs him how to attain her in the Tower of Music, and she informs him that he will have great labour, and must pass through hard adventures before he will attain his object : — ' For by the waye, there lye in waite Gyantes great, disfigured of nature That all deuoureth, by their euil conceite Against whose strength, there may no man endure They are so huge, and strong out of measure "With many serpentes, foule and odious In sundry likenesse, blacke and tedious But beyond them, a great sea there is Beyonde whiche sea, there is a goodly land Most full of fruite, replete with ioye and bliss Of right fine golde, appeareth all the sande In this faire realme, where the tower doth stand Made all of golde, enameled about With noble stories, whiche do appeare without.' He at length arrives at the castle, when the portresse thus questions him : — * Tyll that I came to a royall gate Where I sawe standyug the goodly portres Whiche axed me, from whence I came alate To whom I gan, in euery thing expresse All myne aduenture, chaunce and busines And eke my name, I tolde her euery dell When she hearde thys, she liked me ryght well.' The portress, whose name was Conntenaunce, introduced him into the castle, and in the Fair Hall, upon the arras, is portrayed the perils he will have to encounter ; that Folly will beset his path, but that Correction will follow : — ' And in her hande, a strong knotted whippe At every iarte she made him for to skippe.' He finds that he will have to destroy a giant with three heads, another more fierce with four heads, and a third still mure terrible with seven heads, and at length he will win and wed La Bell Pucell. The principal officers in the castle are thus named : — 1 The marshall, yclipped was dame Reason And the yeures, also observaunce The pantcr Pleasaunce, at euery season The good Butler, curteys continuaunce And the chiefe coke, was called tempcraunce The lady chambcrlayne, mimed fidclityc And the bye stewarde, Liberalitye.' He is then sent in succession to Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, and at length to Music. In the Temple of Music, he sees and falls deeply in love with La Bell Pucell. She returns his love, but informs him that he will have to brave many desperate adventures before they can be united. He promises to fit himself for all that may happen, and goes to Chivalry — he is taught by Minerva — harnessed and knighted: — 1 For first good hope, his legge harneys should be His habergion, of perfect rigbteousnes Gyrde fast, wyth the girdle of chastitie His rich placarde,1 should be good busines Brodered with almes, so full of larges2 The helmet mekenes, and the shelde good fayeth, His swerde Gods worde, as S. Paule sayeth.' Fortitude, Consuetude,3 Justice, Misericorde, Sapience, Cur- tesye, Concord, and dame Minerva see him on his road, and bid him farewell. His first adventure is with a Kentish man, Godfrey Gobilion, who gives an account of his parentage in these lines : — ' Ich am a gentilman, of much noble kynne Though Iche be cladde, in a knaues skynue For there was one, called Peter Pratefast That in all his life, spake no worde in waste He weddid a wife, that was called Maude I trow quod I, she was a gorgious boude Thou best, quod he, she was gentle and good She gaue her husbande, many a furde hode And at bis meales, without any misse She would him serue, in clenly wise iwya God loue her soule, as she loued clenlines And kept her dishes, from all foulenes When she lacked clowtcs, without any fayle She wyped her dishes, with her dogges tayle.' The conversation that ensues between these worthies, on the misfortunes of lovers, exceeds for gross indelicacy the tales of Chaucer." Grand Amour continues his journey, and becomes a regular Jack the Giant-killer. His first adventure was with a monster twelve feet high, with three heads. These he decap- itated; and is then attacked by a second and more formidable giant, fifteen feet high, with seven heads, named, Dissimula- tion, Delay, Discomfort, Variaunce, Envy, Detraction, and Doublcness ; all these he cuts off, and is then received and entertained by seven fine ladies. His next fierce encounter is with demons. Pallas instructs him how to fight with them. He attacks and slays the great dragon — wins La Bell Pucell, and is married to her, and enjoys great happiness, until he is quietly removed by death to purgatory, where, having been purified, he goes to heaven. 1 'Placarde;' a stomacher or breastplate, frequently orna- mented with jewels. 2 ' Larges ;' a bounty bestowed, a large gift.— Imp. D>rf. 3 ' Consuetude ;' custom, common law or equity, as dis- tinguished from statute law or justice. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. In vain have I endeavoured to discover the intention of the author in this allegory. His editor says, that it was to stimulate young men to study the seven liberal sciences ! Its natural effect would he to stimulate them to licentiousness. These were the class of hooks given to the people by the church, in preference to the Bible. We now come to a very rare pilgrimage, written in Italian, and entitled Libro del Peregrino, by J. Cauice, dedicated to Lucresse Borgie. The edition in my library is 'El nouamente stam- pato et hysloriato, small 8vo, with woodcuts, Venice, 1524.' I have also a translation into French, by T. Dassy, Secretary of State to the King of Navarre ; it is called Le Peregrin : traidant de Llwnneste et pudique amour, par pure et sincere Vertu. It is elegantly printed in black letter, with woodcuts, small 4to, Lyons, 1528, and from it the following analysis was made : — The pilgrim, a native of Ferrara, at the age of twenty-two years on May-day, attended to hear a Dominican Friar preach. Divine love lay in ambush, and the eloquence of the preacher pierced his heart. He passed a restless night — speaks in silence, and at length cries out, O life more miserable than death 1 his thoughts wound him and he is wretched. Under the character of a lady named Geneure, the daughter of Angiolo (the Virgin Mary, queen of angels), to that time unknown to him, is per- sonated that which alone can cure his wounded spirit. This lady is very wise and modest, young, but ancient in prudence, and very difficult to obtain. He becomes very desirous of obtaining her, and his pilgrimage is made with this object. Through the aid of Geneure's nurse, Violante, he corresponded with her, and sought an interview. He is directed to a sub- terraneous passage, by which he hopes secretly to reach her house in the night; but mistakes the chamber, and enters that of another young lady, named Lyonore (the lioness), the daughter of Petruccio (the thirty), and mistook her for Geneure. This sad adventure with Lyonore involves him in great trouble. It came to the knowledge of Geneure, and she weeps for her pilgrim's treason; but is comforted by her mother (the blessed Virgin), who tells her that it is natural to man to go astray. Geneure threatens to enter a nunnery, and submits to her mother that the vows of obedience and poverty are of sovereign virtue. The pilgrim, before Geneure entered upon her noviciate, met her accidentally at church, and pro- poses marriage, his faults are forgiven, they become united, and pass their time in great happiness, until death separated them. If Bunyan had been able to have read this quaint old Italian or French story, he would never have devoted his valuable time to such a mass of rubbish ; and if he had, not the slightest idea could have suggested itself to have assisted him in composing the adventures of his Pilgrim. In fact, he dared not to have spent an hour over a book, which, under the title of The Pilgrim, con- tains all the looseness of an Italian love-story. This book was for some time very popular. I have two Venice editions, in 8vo, printed in italics, 1524 and 1527. I have seen also a similar edition not dated, and one of 1538. There is also a very handsome one of the French translation, printed by Gallist, Du Pres, Paris, 1528, and another in 1540. Niceron thus accounts for its popularity, ' Ce livre faisait en France, au commencement du regne de Frangois I., les delices de la jeunesse, et donnait lieu aux predicateurs d'on blarner forte- ment la lecture comme dangereuse." It is a matter of great regret that those who write and publish for the millions, too frequently circulate opinions and supposed facts without per- sonal investigation. Mr. Chambers, the popular publisher at Edinburgh, whose works find readers as far as the English language is known, has joined those who appear to detract from Bunyan, by charging him with plagiarism. In his Encyclopedia of Literature,'1 speaking of Gawin Douglas, the Bishop of Dunkeld, a celebrated Scottish poet, he observes, ' The principal original composition of Douglas is a long poem, entitled, The Palace of Honour. It was designed as an epilogue for the conduct of a king, and there- fore addressed to James IV. The poet represents himself as seeing, in a vision, a large company travelling towards the Palace of Honour. He joins them, and narrates the particulars of the pilgrimage. The well-known " Pilgrim's Progress" bears so strong a resemblance to this poem, that Bunyan could scarcely have been ignorant of it.' With some trouble I found a copy of this very rare tract by Douglas. It is a slwrt poem, but being in the ancient Scottish dialect, it is quite long enough to weary an Englishman's patience. Had it been Douglas's long poem, a translation of Virgil, it would have defied any attempt of mine to read it ; but, by the aid of a good modern glos- sary, I read it through, and, to my extreme sur- prise, found that it has not, either in the plot or detail, the slightest similarity whatever to the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and that it is written in terms that a poor unlettered minister could not have understood. The principal character in the story is represented as being in a desert, when, hearing the noise of an approaching caval- cade, he gets into a stock [a hollow tree], and sees them pass. He then follows them to the Palace of Honour, and gives a description of what took place. Had Bunyan seen and read the following stanza, and understood it, how indignant would he have felt at the author's notion of baptismal regeneration: — ' Ze bene all borne the sonnis of Ire I ges Sine throw Baptisme gettis grace and faithfulnes. Than in zone Carwell surelie ze remane, Oft stormested with this warldis brukilnes Q.nhill that ze fall in sin and wretchitness Than schip brokin sail ze drown in endles pane Except be faith ze find the plank agane Be Christ, wirkiug gude warkis I vnderstund Remaine thairwith, thir sail zow bring to laud.'8 1 Hist, des Hotnmes illustres, 44 torn. Paris, 1] 2 Vol. i. p. 44. 8 Ibid. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 39 Surely Mr. Chambers could not have imagined that the representation of a large party going up a hill of polished warble, and on the summit seeing the infernal regions as nar- rated in the following verses, coidd have aided Banyan in his solemn account of the Christian's feeling in the Valley of the Shadow of Death \ — ' As we approchit neir the hillcs In id Ane terribill sewch birnand in flammis reid Abhominabill, and how as hell to se All full of briutstane, Pick and bulling Leid, Quhair mony wretchit creature lay deid. And miserabill catiucs zelland loude on hie I saw, quhilk den micht wcill compairit be Till Xanthus the flude of Troy sa schill Birnand at Venus best contrair Achill. Amid our passage lay this viglie sicht Nocht braid bot sa horribill to cuerie wicht That all the warld to pas it sidd hauc dreid. "Weill I considderit na vppennair I micht And to discend sa hiddeous was the hieht I durst not aueuture for this eird on dreid. Trimbland I stude wt teith chatterand gude spcid My Nymphe beheld my cheir and said let be Thow sail nocht aill, and lo the caus (quod sche) To me thou art commit, &c.' There may be as much poetic beauty in these lines as there is melody in the drone of the bagpipe, but there is not the slightest similarity, nor even any idea in the whole poem, that could by possibility have aided the author of the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' The Pryke of Conscience} A very curious old English poem ; it is theological and descriptive, but not allegorical. TIte Myrrour of Lyfe, by William of Nassyno-ton, 1418.2 An ancient English poetical treatise on religion ; excepting the title, it has no pretence to allegory. CasteUum Amoris. Le Chateau D' 'Amour, by Robert Grosteste. A fine copy of this curious poem, in Norman French, is in the British Museum.3 It narrates the creation and fall of man j the four daughters of God, Mercy, Truth, Patience, and Peace, unite to devise the means of man's restoration. The divisions are — I. The Prophets predict. II. The Saviour is born in the great Palace of Love. III. The Palace is described with its keepers. IV. Satan attempts to overcome the keepers. It is a very curious poem, and is called at the end, Scala Cceli. I venture to give a specimen of this singular composition, and have selected the following, because it treats upon the subject of baptismal regeneration, which at present occupies so much of the public attention. The author was evidently of that party who pretend to believe that the God of love will send a poor babe to everlasting misery, if its parents neglect or refuse to have it christened ! ! As the French is old aud contracted, a translation is added : — ' O baptize treslour fussent ' They were then baptized Et nomi Deu pater et In the names of God the Father Deo fiz. and of the Son 1 Brit. Mus. Bib E-ert. 846. B. 2 Brit. Mus. Eg. 657. 3 Brit. Mus. Roy. Lib. 17, c. viii. Et du saynt espiritz And of the Holy Ghost Kar qi baptize ne scrra For whoever is not baptized Ca en eel ne entera lie in heaven dial] not enter Mcs ci crcaut cy baptize But those created in tine baptism Serront mys a sauuetc.' Shall be put into salvation.' Scala Perfeccionis Englyshed. The Ladder of Per- fection, written by Walter Hilton, about 1380. This was one of the most popular of the monkish writings, and so much esteemed in the reign of James II., as to have been published by the court to promote the influence of popery in these realms; it was then very much altered, and not improved. The only allegory in it is the Ladder, placed upon the earth to ascend by steps to heaven. It was intended for monks and nuns, to guide them in devotional exercises, so that their affec- tions might be gradually raised from earthly things. It is the most scriptural of all the monkish manuscripts, but the evan- gelical truths are omitted in the more modern printed editions. Thus he says, if we were only infected by original sin, and had escaped the pollution of actual transgression, we must have per- ished but for the sufferings of Christ.4 To speak for thy profit and my own, ' say I thus that thou neuer so moche a wreche, hadest thou done neuer so moche syn, for sake thi self and al thi werkes gode and bad, cry mercy and aske oneli saluacion be vertue of the precious passion mekeli and trusteli and with outyen doute thou schalt haue it, and fro this original syn and al other that thou have done thou sal be saf.' 4 Dr. Dibdin considers this a wild and dangerous exposition of the consoling' doctrines of the Christian religion made by an enthusiastic writer 1 5 Hilton gives a faithful warning against placing dependence upon happy feelings, unless they arise from a living faith. ' I had rather feel, and have a stedfast desire and a pure spiritual union with my Lord Jesus, though I cannot see him with my ghostly eye, than to have without this desire the fruit of all the bodily penance of all living men, or all the visions and revelations of angels' songs and sounds.' ' Jesus leadeth the soul into itself. The secret voice of Jesus is fully true, " My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they know me." There is no feigning iu it, nor fantasy, nor pride, nor hypocrisy; but softness, meekness, peace, love, and charity. And it is full of life, love, and grace ; and, therefore, when it soundeth in the soul, it is sometime of so great might, that the soul suddenly layeth off hand all that there is, praying, speak- ing, reading, or thinking, and all manner of bodily work, and listeneth thereto, fully hearing and perceiving, in rest and in love, the sweet steuen8 of this spiritual voice, as it were rav- ished from the mind of all earthly things. Sometimes Jesus showeth himself as a master, sometimes as a father, and some- times as a lovely spouse ; and it kcepeth the soul in a wonder- ing reverence, and a lovely beholding of him, that the soul liketh never so well as then.' 7 It is delightful to meet with such beams of the Sun of righteousness in a dark age, like the day- spring from on high, breaking through a dismal night with its cheering rays.8 4 Copied from a fine and perfect MS. in the Editor's lib- rary, chap. xliv. ■ Typographical Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 37. c Melody, from ' streuen,' or strain. 7 Cap. xliv. part 2. . 8 It is very surprising that so little appears to be known «r this good man ; he was a Carthusian monk of Sion, or Skene, and author of about twelve different works. 40 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Tlie Pilgrimage of Perfection ; supposed to be writ- ten by William Bond. 4to, printed by Pynson, 1526. A fine copy of tins rare book is in the extensive and valuable library of my kind friend, the Rev. J. H. M. Luxmoore, rector of Marcweil, near Wrex- ham, by whose permission the following analysis was made: — This work is more particularly intended for the monastic orders, to promote what, in those days, were called pious feel- ings ; hy which it was intended to treat the gifts of providence, the comforts, and even necessaries of life, with contempt ; to abstain from reasonable enjoyments; to retire into solitudes where no relative duties could be performed ; lacerating the body; submitting the soul, with blind obedience, to the will of men ; a looking forward with dread to the future ; con- templating the God of love, not as the forgiver, but as the avenger of sin; and to which may be added, that climax of pride, fanaticism, and folly, in which Jews, Mahometans, and all antichrist glory — that there is no salvation out of the pale of their own sect. The volume commences with the tree of grace and the tree of vice ; under the branch of avarice, a nun is told to Xotc r>t a pin or a nrtiell kept contravn to nc commaunticmcnt of tljrir soucraine it is tiampnafalc. It is divided into two parts : first, ' sheweth howe the lyfe of euery cristian is as a pilgremage : second, the iourney of religion — man is never contented in the cage of this world ; wherfore it appcreth that ther is an hyer cage and another place for his full contentation.' — ' As the iewes spoyled Egipt of their richesse, so the christians have spoyled both iewes and philosophers of the noble veritces of philosophy ;' ' In heuen euery man and woman shalbe as an emperonr and empresse.' The journey begins with the sacrament of baptism, pro- fessing by it to be pilgrims; openly forsaking the devil, pomps, mortal sins, honours, riches, and pleasures ; for daily sustenance, is given the blessed body of our Lord in the sacra- ment, by which these pilgrims are raised above nature to immortal glory. Jn. vi. 53 is thus translated : — ' Except ye eat the flesh of the son of the virgin, and drink his blood, ye cannot have life in you ;' but it is silent as to the cup being denied to the laity. 1 Pe. ii. 2, 3, is thus translated: — 'As infants and young children : whom our mother, holy church, hath brought forth, by the regeneration of baptism in the faith of Christ Jesus.' Then follow very extensive instructions to the pilgrims, without any attempt at allegory. Many portions of Scripture are given, but they are strangely translated. The Lord's prayer : — ' 0 father in heuen dclyuer vs fro all euyll of peyne and synne. Suffre vs nat to be ouerthrowen in temptacion. Forgyue vs our offences as we forgyue them that hath offended vs. Gyue vs our dayly sustenaunce and necessaryes. Thy wyll be fulfylled in erthe, as it is in heuen. Thy kyngdome , come to vs. Thy holy name be santifyed.' 1 Co. hi. 13 : — j ' But yet (as saynt Poule sayth) the fyer of purgatory must proue his workes.' When suffering pain from fasting, he \ adviseth that such pain be allayed by using these words : — | ' Ah, caryon carion and wormes meate : what vauntage shalte thou haue, ever to stuffe and fyll the greedy gutte of thy bely with delicate meetes and drinkes which damn the soule.' Praying to our blessed Lady and to the saints is ordered, because Job was commanded to ' call to some of the sayntes of heuen, and they wil answere,' Job v. 1. In the ten com- | mandments, the second is omitted, and the tenth is divided into two, to make up the number. The Virgin Mary can obtain blessings for us, because ' The mother of God, sheweth to her son her pappes and brestes, with the which she gaue hyni sucke ! ! therefore make supplication to her, to have mercy on tin's present churche militant, releue, socoure, and helpe it.' The heavenly anthem is translated : — ' Glory be to god in heuyn, and peace in erthe to man or woman, that hath° a good wyll,' Lu. ii. 11. The pilgrimage is divided into seveu days, and on the seventh the soid approaches to perfection ; and here the feelings or experience of the pilgrims strongly remind lis of some modern sects, such as the Irvingites — ' Some in this vnwont ioye haue been compelled to syng, some to wepe, some coude uothiuge speke ; but Jesu, Jesu, Jesu. Some coude nat saye so moche, but onely expresse suche voyces, that be nat in use to siynifye any thyny : one Mas- seus in such ioye coude speke nothing but v v v.' With the Quakers, ' Some other in such jubile, trymbled or quaked in all the ioyntes of their bodyes.' Like the Ranters, ' Some were constrayned to leape and daunce for ioye, and some to clappe their handes.' Some have arrived at so high a state of mortification, that if asked ' whether they coude be con- tented, for the love and pleasure of god, and to fulfyll his wyll, to lye for euermore in the paynes of hell, without remedy, they wolde answere : ye with all their hertes.' In such a state was St. Bernard, who was ravished before the cross when the body ' losed itsclfe from the crosse, and halsed l and kyssed hym most swetely ;' the holy Brigit was lifted up in the aire, and her face was made to shync brighter than the sonne ! ! ! The reader need not be told that Bunyan could have had no help from this impure source. Tlie Pyj)e, or Tonne of the lyfe of perfection. 4to, 1532. This is an allegorical work for the instruction of nuns, written by the old wretch of Sion ; 2 and although it is not a pilgrimage or a dream, it is a guide to female pilgrims. Under the idea of wine being kept in a pipe or tun, is repre- sented:— 1. The life of perfection, as the wine; 2. Religion, the pipe; 3. Essential vows, obedience, wilful poverty, and chastity, the siavts; 4. Holy rules, the hoops; 5. Ceremonies, the icickers, by which the hoops are made fast. If these wickers fail, the hoops open, the cask falls to pieces, and the wine is lost ; all depends upon the ceremonies. This curious book was published to prevent the spread of heresy ' by newe tangle persones,' aided by the New Testament, which had then been about six years in circulation in England ; for ' Luther, with all his discyples, depraue all maner of religyons, except onely (as they call hit) the religyon of Christe. Wherefore I thought it necessary to answer the perilous poison of such blaterers.' The work is divided into three parts : ' Of Obedi- ence,' ' Wylfull Poucrtie,' and ' Chastite ;' being the three "reat vows made by the nuns to whom it is addressed. 1. Of Obedience. Without implicit obedience, there is not the slightest hope of salvation. This related, not only to the obedience due by nuns to the pope, the priest, and the abbess, but also to the obedience due by a wife to her husband. If married ladies acted in the same spirit then as they do now, might not the sorrowful inquiry have been made, ' Lord, are there [even a] few that be saved ?' ' Kynges as sone as they were conuerted and baptized, left their dyademes and were 1 ' Halsed ;' bowed the head, embraced, saluted. 2 Richard Whytforde, a monk in the monastery of Syon, near Richmond, on the banks of the Thames. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 41 subiects unto the clergie, and under theyr obedience,' a pecu- liar kind of antinomianism reigned in the church ; ' I say, that no temporall lawe maye bynde any spirituall persone. This have we said vnto Tyndale that arche heretike.' Some of the rules and examples show that nuns were sad women, who could ' braule and chide ; eat and drynke to excess ' — ' they be in right great jeoperty of nawfrage 1 and wracke of chastite.' Obedience in ecclesiastical payments is enforced by a very odd translation of Nu. xviii. 22 : — * Those persones that wolde nat be obedient duely to pay theyr tythes, were judged by our Lord vnto deth;' and whether God, or the vicar of God, gave any manner of commandment, it is all one, and by like reverence to be performed ; ' our lorde god, in maner makyng the prelates and souereynes equall with hym- selfe.' The extent of obedience is thus illustrated: — 'that man that in obedience to his souereyne dyd caste his owne chylde quicke into a hole flamynge ouen has now laude, prayse, thanke, and grace, because he was obedient as he would have had indignation of god and vengeaunce if he had not obeyed.' 2. Of Wylfull Pouertie. This vow was so strict that no monk or nun was to consider their clothes their own, but the property of the establishment ; and, to terrify the poor votaries, a story is told, fol. cc, of a monk that did appear after his death to one of his companions, showing that he was in marvellous great pains, 'for bycause he gaue a payre of olde showes vnto a pore body without leaue.' All the efforts and threats to prevent the monks from getting money was in vain ; and our unhappy author laments that there are few monasteries in England but where the monks lend and boiTow ; play for money at all manner of games ; dice, cards, bowls, aud sometimes at worse or more inconvenient things ; while the nuns enjoy their gains, make good cheer, sing and laugh, play and sport, and be as merry as lay people. We close our account of this singular volume by extracting a curious version of Ps. cxxxvii. 9 : — ' Blessed be that person that doth hold and restrain his chil- dren, and that doth thrust and crush their head unto the stone, that is unto Christ and his passion and death.' No one can for a moment suppose that Bunyan could have gained a hint from this volume. Viaggio Spirituale, vel quale, fac&ndosi passaggio da questa vita mortale, si ascende alia celeste. Del R. P. Cornelio Bellanda, di Verona, 4to, with the Aldine mark. Venetia, 1578. This spiritual pilgrimage, from mortal life to the celestial, has nothing in it allegorical, but in ten chapters treats of penance, confession, the judgment, heavenly blessedness, &c. It is a very rare volume, elegantly printed by Aldus, jun.2 The Vision of Pierce Plowman. * I am inclined to think,' says Mr. D 'Israeli, in his Amenities of Literature, ' that we owe to Piers Ploughman, an allegorical work of the same wild invention from that other creative mind, the author of " Pilgrim's Progress." How can we think of the one, without heing reminded of the other ? Some distant relationship seems to exist between the Ploughman's Doxoell and Dobet, and Dobest, Friar Flatterer, Grace, the Portress of the magnifi- 1 'Naufrage;' shipwreck. 2 In the Editor's library. See Renonard Annates, de Vlm- frimarie des Aide, vol. i. p. 397. VOL. III. cent Tower of Truth, viewed at a distance, and by its side the dungeon of Care, Natural Understand- ing, and his lean and stern wife Study, and all the rest of this numerous company, and the shadowy pilgrimage of the "Immortal Dreamer" to the " Celestial City." Yet I would mistrust my own feeling, when so many able critics, in their various researches after a prototype of that singular pro- duction, have hitherto not suggested what seems to me obvious.' Such a notice by so popular a writer, led me very closely to examine this severe satire. It is written in language that to Bunyan would have been almost as impenetrable as Hebrew or Greek. It is a very curious poem, composed about the time of Wicliff, by one of the. Lollards, said to be by Robert Langland. In a poetical vision or dream, he exposes and reproves vice, and extols Christian virtue. 'The printer [R. Crowley, 1550] states, that it was written in the time of Edward III., when it pleased God to open the eyes of many to see his truth, giving them bold- ness of heart to open their mouths, and cry out against the works of darkness. This writer feigneth himself in dreams most Christianly to instruct the weak, and sharply rebuke the obstinate blind. He godlily, learnedly, and wittily rebuked vice in all classes.' There is nothing in this very interesting book that could, in the slightest degree, have aided Bunyan, if he had been able to read it. It presents a melancholy picture of the state of the clergy, and of society generally, at that time ; and, according to his account, pilgrims were very sad story-tellers. ' Pilgrames and Palmers plyght hem togyther For to seke S. James and sayntes at Rome They went forth theyr way, wyth many wyse tales, And had leaue to lye all hyr lyfe after.' The hermits appear to have had a still worse propensity— ' Hermets on a heape wyth hoked staues Wenten to Walsingham, and her wenches after.' Mr. D' Israeli must have been dreaming when he imagined the slightest resemblance between Piers Plowman's Vision and the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' either in the plan, or in any of the details of this curious poem. Chaucer's Canterbury Talcs Were told on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Thomas-a-Bccket ; and it is evident that these pretended holy journeys were full of vice and profligacy. Erasmus, On tlie Religious Pilgrimages. The very droll colloquy of Erasmus, called the Peliginus Pilgrimage, is preceded by an account of a shipwreck, when all the passengers and crew are calling each on his patron saint, promising pilgrimages and offerings. Among them— ' one vowed to St. Christopher, in the great church at Pans, " as loud as he could bawl," that he might be sure to be heard, a wax candle, as big as himself, and he was rather a mountain 42 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. than a statue : a friend gave him a touch. Have a care what you promise, says he, for if you should sell yourself to your shirt, you are not able to purchase such a candle. Hold your tongue, you fool, says t'other, softly, for fear the saint should hear him ; let me set foot a land once, and he has good luck if he get so much as a tallow candle of me ! !' This pil- grimage has a long letter from the Virgin Mary, written by one of her secretaries, in droll terms, complaining that it is of no use that hundreds should pray to her at once, for she could only hear one at a time, and had no power to assist her wor- shippers. No one can suppose that Bunyan gained any hint from such satirical works as these. Spenser's Faery Queen. To this work Dr. Adam Clarke considered Bun- yan to have heen indebted for some ideas in his 'Pilgrim,' or 'Holy War.' It must require no ordinary degree of penetration to discover that which is, to many, perfectly concealed. This is a very long but elegant allegorical poem, composed of seven legends : 1. The Knight of the Red Cross, or Holi- ness. This gallant knight, properly caparisoned and accoutred, rides forth with Truth, represented as a fair lady; his first adventure is with a monstrous dragon called Error, who is slain. They take refuge in the cell of an aged sire, who acted the part of a holy hermit, but proved to be a most unholy enchanter ; he calls spirits from the vasty deep, and transforms them into a gallant knight and a beautiful woman. He kindles a flame of jealousy in the breast of the red cross knight, so that he abruptly quits his fair companion, and in his journey meets with a knight called ' Sans Foy ;' they fight, and Sans Toy is killed, and a lovely lady, his companion, is taken cap- tive ; she proves to be ' Falsehood.' He is taken prisoner by the contrivance of Falsehood, and is thrown into a dungeon in the castle of Giant Orgoglio, where he lies in despair for three months. Truth iuduces Prince Arthur to attack the Giant, whose body disappears when he is slain after a fearful combat; he relieves the red cross knight from a cell — ' Where cntred in, his feet could find no floor, But all a deep descent, as dark as hell, That breathed ever forth a filthy bauefull smell.' He is then led to a house of holiness, and is taught repentance. Our knight then seeks and fights the old dragon fiend for three successive days, and kills him. He visits the infernal realms ; sees what the classic poets have described ; meets again with his lady Truth, and his adventures close with their marriage. The next legend is that of Temperance narrating the exploits of Sir Guyon. He attacks and overcomes Furor, Incontinence, and Mammon. He recounts from a friar's book * a chronicle of Briton's Kings.' His startling description of our forefathers is a good specimen of his versification and stanzas : — ' But far in land a salvage nation dwelt Of hideous giaunts, and halfe-beastly men, That never tasted grace, nor goodness felt ; But wild like beastes lurking in loathsome den, And flying fast as roebueke through the fen ; All naked without shame or care of cold, By hunting and by spoiling liveden ; Of stature huge, aud eke of corage bold, That sonues of men amazed their stcruess to behold.' Temperance is besieged, but relieved by Prince Arthur. Then follows the legends of Britomartis, or Chastity: all the chapters are headed with poetical contents ; as — ' The witches sonue loves Florimell, She flyes ; he faines to dy. Satyrene saves the squyre of Dames From Gyauntes tyranny.' The other legends are of friendship, justice, courtesy, con- stancy, aud mutability. The first legend of Holiness is the only one that bears the slightest resemblance to any part of the ' Pilgrim ' or ' Holy War.' In this we have a battle with the old dragon fiend, a descent into hell, and being a prisoner in a giant's castle. It is not at all likely that Bunyan could have found time, even had lie the inclination, to have read the Faery Queen. His poetry is from the school of Francis Quarks, and not of Spenser. The knightly hero seeks the old dragon fiend ; the pilgrim is sought by Apollyon. Apostolic injunctions would naturally lead our allegorist Bunyan to por- tray the dreadful combat. ' The devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour,' whom resist. Clothed in the armour described in the Epistle to the Ephc- sians, and wielding the sword of the Spirit, his final success was certain — ' resist the devil, and he will flee from you.' Such texts, with his own experience of the saint's conflict with the powers of darkness, naturally suggested the fight with Apollyon, without the aid of any uninspired author. All Spenser's imagery of the Infernal Regions is taken from Ovid, Virgil, and Dante. But the pilgrims' fears, while passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, depict the author's per- sonal feelings, and the experience of David. ' The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me : I found trouble and sorrow.' Ps. cxvi. 3. The strong language of Job fch. xv.), 'A dreadful sound is in his ears ; he believeth not that he shall return out of darkness;' and the emotions of the psalmist, ' an horrible pit and the miry clay,' led to an intensity of feeling, under doubts and fears, which knightly poetry, however elegant, could never have engendered. Spenser was a philoso- pher well acquainted with heathen literature, from which his images are drawn. While Bunyan, shut out of the enticing treasures of human learning, possessed in that Inspired Volume, which was his daily solace under severe privations, the most noble model for his allegorical imagery, he neither wanted, nor could he have gained, the slightest hint from Spenser. Le Voyage du Chevalier Errant. Par. F. J. do Cartheny. Written about the year 1311. 8vo, Anvers, 1557. Published in English under the title of The Voyage of the Wander- ing Knight. Showing the whole course of Man's Life;, how apt he is to follow Vanity, and how hard it is for him to attain to Vir- tue. Devised by John Cartheny, a Frenchman ; and Translated out of French into English by W[illiam] G[oodyeare] of Southampton, INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 43 Merchant ; a work worthy the reading, and dedicated to Sir. P. Drake, Knt. London, Printed by Thos. Snodham, 4to. No date, but about 1611. {See Herbert, p. 1022.) The knight determines to seek the palace of true felicity, find first tries riches, pleasure, and honours j hut he adds, '1 Vras as very a fool in this as he who hoped to catch fish by angling in the air, or hunt the hare with hounds in the open sea.' Under the guidance of Fully, he obtained from an armorer named Evil-will, a shirt of lasciviousness, a doublet lit' lewd desires, hosen ' of vain pleasures, armour of ignorance, a corslet of inconstancy, vamhraces '-' of arrogancy, gauntlets of a gorgel of licentiousness, a helmet of lightness, a buckler of shainelessness, a gilt-cap of vain-glory, a girdle of intemperance, a Bword of rebellion, and a lance, named Hope of Long-life. ' Then Pride prepared me a galloping horse, called Temerity. At last Folly apparelled herself lightly with a cloak of feathers, and mounted upon a jenet ; and opening her feathers and wings with the wind, away she flew ; and 1 also, at a wild adventure, set spurs to my horse, and away we went both.' During their ride, Folly tells him her triumphs in such gross terms, that the knight found fault with this insatiable empress, and calls her some very unpolite names ; hut not having received God's grace, he was unable to forsake her. They come to two paths, one a goodly green meadow; the other rocky, narrow, and full of mountains ; and here met with two elegant ladies, on chargers richly caparisoned. Lady Voluptuousness pictures to him the pleasures of idleness, with all worldly delights; and Lady Felicity, the advantages of industry and virtue. As the husbandman could expect no corn unless he prepared the ground aud sowed the seed ; so that man is marvellously misinformed who thinketh to achieve true blessedness unless he prepares his way by virtue and good deeds. But while Reason preferred the good advice of Felicity, Folly prevailed, and led him to the palace of Voluptuousness. The palace is minutely described, with all its wantou and luxurious enjoyments. After leading a beastly life eleven days, he goes out hunting, accompanied by his gay ladies ; when suddenly the palace sinks into the earth, yielding such an air of brimstone, that the like hath not been felt. The knight ' sunk into a beastly bog up to his saddle,' and his companions changed into serpents, snakes, toads, and venomous worms. He fell into despair, howled, and scratched his face ; he tried in vain to get out, and found ' that after a man be once sunk in sin, he will not be able to recover himself unless he have the help of God's grace.' After bitter repentance, he prays ; and a splendid lady, called God's-Grace, relieved him, and he left Temerity his horse, and Folly his governess, in the bog to fish for frogs. ' Thus you see that God's grace draweth us from sins without any merit of ours ; howbeit uot without an inward heart-grief aud sorrow for sin, which is a special gift of God's grace.' His new guide showed him the ruins of the palace of worldly Felicity converted into a great bed of iron, red hot, upon which his late companions were tormented. He is then led to the school of repentance, which is surrounded with a moat, called Humility. Here all his follies are brought to his remembrance; he sees what torments he had deserved for them, and was half in despair. Portions of Scripture are exhibited, which comfort and convert him. Understanding, now preaches him a sermon on the history of Mary Magdalene. The knight then receives the communion, and is carried to the palace of Virtue. The third part of the voyage describes the happiness whih his fell in company with Lady Virtue. At length Faith, from the top of a tower, shows him the city of heaven. It concludes with a prayer, the creed, and ten commandments, and an exhortation to perseverance until the knight shall attain the glorious city of paradise. Although this work was doubtless intended for good, yet such is the indelicacy of many of its scenes, that it was more calculated to excite evil passions than to lead an inquirer to happiness. The way of salvation is confined to moral observ- ances, without that spring of virtue which flows from faith, in Jesus Christ, and its consequent evangelical obedience. There is no similarity be- tween this Voyage and the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' except it be the foresight of the heavenly paradise, which has been, and is, one of the enjoyments of the real Christian from the Revelations of John to the present time.3 There is no ground for sup- posing that the persecuted Bunyan ever saw this Clievalier Errant. Whitney's Emblems. 4to, Leyden, 15SG; pp.179. The cut over one of the emblems represents a man swimming, with a pack upon his back. ' Desire to haue, dothe make vs muche indure, In trauayle, toile, aud labour voide of reste : The marchant-man is caried with this lure, Throughe scorching heate, to regions of the Easte : Oh thirste of goulde, what not ? but thou canst do : And make meus hartes for to consent thereto. 1 The trauailer poore, when shippe doth suffer wracke, Who hopes to swimme vnto the wished laude, Dothe venture life, with fardle on his backe, That if he scape, the same in steede maye stande. Thus, hope of life, and loue vnto his goods, Houldes vp his chinne, with burthen in the floods.' Another emblem has a cut, representing a pilgrim with his staff leaving a globe [the world] behind him, p. 225. Pere- grinus Christianus loquitur. Advek deceiptfull worlde, thy pleasures I detest : Notoe, others with thy shoices delude; my hope in heauen doth rest. Inlarged as followeth : — ' Even as a flower, or like vnto the grasse, "Which now dothe stande, and straight with sithc dothe fall, So is our state : now here, now hence wee passe : For, time attendes with shredding sithe for all. And dcathe at lengthe, both oulde, and yonge, doth strike-' And into dust dothe turne vs all alike. ' Yet, if we marke how swifte our race dothe ronnc, And waighe the cause, why wee created bee : Then shall we know, when that this life is donne, AVee shall bee sure our countrie right to see. For, here wee are but straungers, that must flitte : The nearer home, the nearer to the pitte. 1 Stockings. Armour for the arms. 3 Mr. Lowndes, in his Bibliographical Manual, says that Bunyan, in his ' Pilgrim's Progress,' was much indebted to this Wandering Knight ! ! 1 * Adieu. 44 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 0 happie they, that pondering this arighte, Before that here their pilgrimage bee past, Resigne this world : and marche with all their mighte Within that pathe, that leades where ioyes shall last. And whilst they may, there, treasure vp their store, Where, without rust, it lastes for euermore. This worlde must chaunge : That worlde, shall still indure. Here, pleasures fade : There, shall they endlesse bee. Here, man doth sinne : And there, hee shalbee pure, Here, deathe hee tastes : And there, shall neuer die. Here, hathe hee griefe : And there shall ioyes possesse. As none hath seene, nor anie harte can gesse.' These are the poemsfrom which Mr. Montgomery conceives Bunyan might perhaps have inspired his first idea ! The other of Whitney's Emblems upon pilgrimage, is under a cut representing Mercury and two men travelling upon a road. * The trauaylinge man, vncertaine where to goe, When diuers wayes before his face did lie, Mercurius then, the perfect pathe did showe, Which when he tooke, he neuer went awrie, But to his wishes, his iorneys ende did gaine In happie howre, by his direction plaine. ' This trauailinge man : doth tell our wandringe state, Before whose face, and eeke on euery side, Bypathes, and wayes, appeare amidd our gate, That if the Lorde bee not our onlie guide : We stumble, fall, and dailie goe astraye, Then happie those, whome God doth shew the waye.' The Pilgrimage to Paradise. Compiled for the Direction, Comfort, and Resolution of God's poore distressed Children in passing through this irksome Wildernesse of Temptation and Tryall. By Leonard Wright. 4to, London, 1591. Full of sound instruction, but not allegorical. Benoist (Father-Confessor to Mary Queen of Scots), le CJievalier Chrestien. This is a dialogue between a Christian knight and an infidel, whom he attempts to instruct in the knowledge of God and the Romish faith. It has cuts representing the knight's horse, and the various parts of his armour and habiliments, which are spiritualized. Some of these instructions to an infidel are curious, ' Comme l'Eglise, second Paradis, a este plantee et est contenue en la Vierge, monde mystique.' » * Be la descente de Jesus Christ en enfer, ou il a remporte encore une autre victoire sur Satan, brisant ses prisons, et deliverant les Peres qu'il y tenoit captif.'2 This is the true meaning of the descent into hell in what is called the Apostles' Creed. Among other curious discoveries which the author makes is, that if Adam had not been persuaded to sin by his wife, his posterity would not have been corrupt.3 Tlie Pilgrimage of Princes. By L. Lloid, one of Queen Elizabeth's Sergeants-at-Arms. There is nothing allegorical in this entertaining volume. It is a pilgrimage to the characters and Edit. Rouen, 1609, 8vo, p. 97. P. 160. 3 P. 48. works of princes, which are curiously exhibited. A few are in poetry, such as that of King Herod ; ' When Herod reigned iu Juda king His life so loathsome led, On sucking babes and infants blood, This cruel tyrant fed. To seek our Saviour Christ, he kill'd The Babes of Juda land ; , And thought our God could not escape His fomie bloody hand. Of worms this Herod was devoured, Of vermin loe, and mice : His bones, his flesh, was all consumed And eaten up of Lice.' Tlie Plaine Mans Path-way to Heaven. By Arth. Dent. 1601. There is a rare tract under this title in black letter, with a woodcut of the author, 12 leaves ; but the book that was made a blessing to Bunyan is a small octavo volume. This little book made a considerable part of the worldly goods which Bunyan's first wife brought as her portion, and it became one of the means by which he was awakened from the dreary sleep of sin, and therefore an in- valuable portion. It is singular that no one has charged him with taking any hints from this book, which is one of the very few which he is known to have read prior to his public profession of faith and holiness in baptism. The author, in his epistle, calls it a ' controversie with Satan and Sinne.' It is a dialogue between ' a Divine, an Honest Man, an Ignorant Man, and a Caviller.' They commence about buying a good cow, then worth four pounds, and are drawn into religious conversation. The author is so high a Calvinist, that, speaking of infants, he says, ' some, no doubt, are saved through the election of grace.' He commences with the new birth : arguments are adduced to show why good and worthy men are lost, because they esteem a preacher no more than a shoemaker, nor the Scriptures than their old shoes. He places lying among the principal sins, which he calls the Beelzebubs of the world. He introduces very familiar illustra- tions and well-known proverbs. Speaking against pride, he says, ' How proud many (especially women) be of baubles. For when they have spent a good part of the day in tricking and trimming, pricking aud pinning, pranking and pouncing, gird- ing and lacing, and braving up themselves in most exquisite manner, out they come into the streets with their pedlar's shop upon their backs and take themselves to be little Angels — they are one lump of pride — the time will come when they and all their gay clouts will be buried in a grave — what will all this profit them when their bodies are buried in the dust and their souls in hell-fire ? what then will they say of these doubled aud redoubled ruffs, strutting fardingales, long locks, fore tufts, shag haire and new fashions ? " He complains of two marks being paid for a pair of stockings [£1, 6s. 8c/.] 1 'What say you to our artificial women, which will be better thau God hath made them ? they like not his handy work, they will mend it — they will have other completions, other hair, other bones, and other .... than God made them.' Modern refine- ment prevents one of these words from being copied ; but the monstrous deformity shown by some ladies of our day, appears INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 45 then to have been in fashion. Dent calls such ladies pictures, puppets, and peacocks. Had Bunyan been a plagiarist, how readily might he have borrowed an idea from Dent of the Muck-rake. ' The gripple muck-rakers had as leve part with their blood as their goods. They will pinch their own backs and bellies to get their god into their chest.' But Bunyan's Muck-rake is all his own. 'Mony lazie lozels and luskish youths do nothing but walk the streets, sit on stalls, and fre- quent Ale houses. Many rich women do ordinarily lie in bed till nine of the clock, aud then forsooth rise, and make them- selves ready to goe to dinner. And after they have well dined, they spend the rest of the day, and a good part of the night also, in playing, prattling, babbling, cackling, prating, and gossipping. Fie on this idle life. ' l The enmity of the natural man against these who bear the image of Christ is thus expressed: 'It is a wonder to consider how deadly the wicked hate the righteous, and almost in every Thing oppose themselves against them : and that in most vir- ulent and spiteful manner. They raile aud slander, scoffe and scorne, mocke aud mowe at them, as though they were not worthy to live upon the earth. They esteeme every pelting Rascall, and prefer euery vile Varlet before them. And though they have their Hues and liberty, their breath and safety, and all that they haue else by them [for their sakes], yet for all that, they coidd be content to eate their heart with garlicke : so great, so fiery, so burning and hissing-hot is their fury and malice against them. They may be compared to a man that standeth upon a bough in the top of a tree, and with an axe choppeth it off, and therewithall falleth down with it, and breaketh his necke.' 2 Dent, speaking of the entrance by the strait gate, says : ' It must be done by great strife against the world, the flesh, and the Diuell — none can enter in without vehement crowding and almost breaking their shoulder-bones —many which seek shall not bee able to enter.' How different to Bunyan's description : ' Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.' Yet both are right: one places his obstacles long before the pilgrim arrives at the gate ; then, having overcome the world and the flesh, the devil shoots at him ; the other reserves all the Christian's opposition to the time when entering the gate. Dent's language is picturesque: 'We haue all the Diuels in hell against vs, with all their horns, heads, marvell- ous strength, infinite wiles, cunning devices, deepe slights, and methodical temptations. Here runs a sore streame against vs. Then haue we this present euill world against us, with her innumerable baits, snares, netts, gins and grins to catch vs, fetter vs and entangle vs. Here haue wee protittes and plea- sures, riches and honour, wealth and preferment, ambition and couetousuesse. Here comes in a Camp-royall of spiritual and inuisible enemies. Lastly we haue our flesh, that is, our cor- rupted nature against vs: wee haue our-selues against our- selues.' This book was written fifty years after the Reforma- tion ; but so slow were the clergy to teach, or the people to learn, that when a farmer is asked, ' What is the end of receiv- ing the sacrament ? ' he answered, ' To receive my maker.' And when asked how many sacraments there were, his answer was, ' Two, Bread and Wine! ' Bunyan must have felt the force of such language as the following : ' Every siu that a man commit- teth is as a thorn thrust deep into the soul ; which will not be got out again but with many a sigh, and many a sorrowful Oh ! Oh I Every sin is written with a pen of iron and the point of a diamond upon the conscience, which, if not felt in this life, then with woe, and alas! when it is too late.' The farmer being deeply affected with a sense of his danger, Atheist advises him to read ' The Court of Venus, The Palace of Pleasure, Beds P. 170. 2 P. 221. of Southampton, Ellen of Rumm/n, The Merry Jest of the Friar and the Boy, The Pleasant Story of Clem of the Clouyh, Adam Bell, and William of Cloudesley, The Odd Tale of William, Richard, and Humphrey, The Pretty Conceit of John Splinter's Last Will — excellent books against heart qualms and dumpishness.' To which the zealous minister replied : ' They are good to kindle a fire — they were devised by the devil, seeu aud allowed by the Pope, printed in Hell, bound by Hobgoblins, and published in Rome, Italy, and Spaiu.' 3 This volume must have been exactly suited to the warm imagination of Bunyan. It had proved invaluable to him as a means of conversion ; but, after a careful and delightful perusal, no trace can he found of any phrase or sentence having been introduced into the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' The copy which the Editor has used in extract- ing the above account is the nineteenth impression, 1625, and has the name of M. Bunyonn written on the bottom of the title ; probably the very volume which his wife brought him as her dowry.4 The result of long, anxious, and expensive in- quiries is, that, from the first idea to the completion of his ' Pilgrim's Progress,' it entirely flowed from Bunyan's own soul. Well might he say — ' Manner and matter too was all mine own.' Sir Walter Raleigh's Pilgrimage. Written by himself, and published in his remains. ' Give me my scalop shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet; My bottle of salvation. My gown of glory, hope's true gage,5 And thus I'll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body's only balmcr, No other balm will there be given ; Whilst my soul, like a quiet Palmer," Travelleth towards the land of Heaven. Over the silver mountains, Where springs the nectar fountains, There will I kiss the bowl of bliss ; And drink mine everlasting fill Upon every milken hill. My soul will be a dry before, But after it will thirst no more. I'll take them first to quench my thirst, And taste of nectar's suckets, At those clear wells, where sweetness dwells, Drawn up by saints in chrystal buckets. Then by that happy blestfull day, More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, That have cast off their rags of clay, And walk apparelled fresh like me ; And when our bottles and all wc Are fill'd with immortality, 3 Pp. 371, 372. Edit. 1625. 4 In the Editor's library. 5 ' Gage ;' a pledge or challenge to combat. 6 'Palmer;' a pilgrim, from their carrying palm, especially on return. branch of 46 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then the blest parts we'll travel ; Strowed with rubies thick as gravel. Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire flowers, High walls of coral, and pearly bowers. Prom thence to Heaven's bribeless hall, Where no corrupted vices brawl ; No conscience molten into gold, No forg'd accuser bought or sold, No cause deferr'd, no vain-spent journey, Por there Christ is the king's attorney ; Who pleads for all without degrees, And he hath Angels,1 but no fees; And when the twelve grand million jury Of our sins, with direful fury, 'Gainst our souls, black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death and then we live. Be thou my speaker (taintless pleader, Unblotted Lawyer, true proceeder) Thou would'st salvation e'en for alms, Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. And this is my eternal plea To him that made heaven, earth and sea, That since my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head. Then am I ready, like a Palmer, fit To tread those blest paths which before I writ, Of Death and Judgement, Heaven, and Hell, Who oft doth think, must needs die well.' Tlte Plain Mans Pilgrimage, or Journey towards Heaven, wherein if he walke carefully he may attain to everlasting life. By W. W[ehster]. 18mo, 1613. First, To set out on the journey, we must get rid of covet- ousness. Second, For speed, we must begin young — give God the heart, and number our days. We have a long journey to go in a short space of time — a day. A short life is like a winter's day; a long life like a day in summer. One of his similes is far beyond ordinary comprehension. ' For as the windows of the temple were large within and narrow without ; so they which are within the church have greater light than they which are without.' Another extract will show the doc- trinal views of the author. ' We must put on his (Christ's) righteousness, which is as strange a vesture to us, as our flesh was to him ; it requires great cunning to wear it cleanly and comely, from foyling2 and rending it, lest it should be taken from us again.' The author gives much good advice as to search- ing the Scriptures and prayer, but there is nothing allegorical in this rare little volume. The Pilgrim. This old comedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher, could afford no hint to Bunyan, and it is very probable that he never wasted one of his precious minutes over a play. To a late period, and even to the present day, 1 ' Angels ;' gold coins, one-third of a sovereign, afterwards raised to ten shillings ; or the spirits of heaven. - ' Foyling ;' pressing, creasing, rumpling. in Roman Catholic countries, the word pilgrim is only understood as relating to a meritorious pil- grimage to the shrine of some saint. In the Glossographia Anglicana, 1719, the meaning of the word pilgrim is ' one that travels upon account of religion, to visit holy places ; to pay his devotion to the relics of dead saints.' The principal places were Rome, Loretto, Jerusalem, Compostella, and 'the local shrines with which every country in Europe abounded. In former times it was a duty inculcated upon all classes, from the king to the peasant, from the archbishop to the humblest clerk, all bent beneath the custom of the times ; and two visits to a neighbouring shrine were con- sidered equivalent to one at double the distance. Such as were unable to go in person, gave money to have the duty performed by proxy. A dream or vision, a penance ordered, or a vow made in the hour of danger, were frequently the prelude to a pil- grimage, and the belief was general, that if they were not made during life, they might, with greater trouble, be performed after death. * Some went for payment of a vow In time of trouble made, And some who found that pilgrimage Was a pleasant sort of trade.' 3 Frequently two hundred thousand pilgrims were at Loretto at one time. They formed proces- sions round the palace of our Lady, on their bare knees, five, seven, nine, or twelve times. We can scarcely credit the accounts of the number of devotees who practised all sorts of vices, going and returning, to secure the pardon of sin, by visit- ing the shrine, and invoking the aid of the saint — so besotted and intoxicated were mankind made by the Church. In six months, from January to June, 1435, the King of England granted licenses to two thousand eight hundred and fifty pilgrims, to Compostella alone ; and it is impossible to give any idea of the myriads of Europeans who perished on pilgrimages, especially to the Holy Land. The church constantly prayed for these votaries, as the Church of England now prays for those who travel by land or by water. The Rev. W. Acworth, at a meeting of the Bible Society, related an anecdote, which may be useful to travellers in popish countries ;4 ' A gentleman who had travelled before me from Rome, had with him some Bibles, Testaments and tracts, on the top of which he had placed good old John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. When the package was opened, the Douanniers examined this book, and not being very good English scholars, they knew not what to make of the title, Bun — Bun — Bunyan's Pil- grim's Progress! "What is that?" said one; Southcy. Report, May 1S36, p. 392. INTRODUCTION HY THE EDITOR. 4 7 " 01)," replied the other, " 'tis some work on the advantage of pilgrimages ; ' ami consequently the whole were immediately allowed. Now, I had my regular passport ; but I venture to say, that good John Bunyan's Pilgrim was a better passport for the Bible than any other which could have been found on that occasion.' Tlte Pilgrim's Practice, containing many Godly Travels. Bv Robert Bruen. Svo, Loud. L621. The Pilgrim's Profession. — This is accompanied by The Pearl of the Gospel ; with a glass for Gen- tlemen to dress themselves by. By Thomas Taylor, D.D. 8vo, 1624. There is nothing allegorical in these volumes. Tlic Pilgrim of Casteele ; written in Spanish, trans- lated into English; 4to, 1C23 ; and repub- lished many times. This is a romance, probably invcutcd iu Euglish. It repre- sents a lover in the disguise of a pilgrim. He suffers ship- wreck, and is picked up by sonic, fishermen, who mistook him, when covered with weeds and mud, for a fardel of cloth ; but found it to be the pilgrim in a trance. They restore him to strength, and he enters upon some very extraordinary adven- tures. In his journey, he gives a good illustration of the then popular faith in haunted houses. Being benighted, he found a lodging in a hospital, deserted 'in regard of a strange noyse which every night was there heard, which hath happened ever since the death of a stranger who came thither to lodge, nobody hath dwelt there.' The pilgrim having made the sign of the cross, laid down to sleep, but in the deep silence he awoke, for ' his bed did move as a ship or a horse, which did carry him ; he opened his eyes, and saw horsemen enter by two and two into the chamber, who, lighting torches which they held in their hands at the caudle which he had left burning, cast them against the ceiling of the chamber, where they stuck fast with their bottoms upward, which dropt down binning flames upon his bed and upon his clothes. He covereth himself as well as possibly he could, leaving a little hole to look out at, that he might see whether his bed did burn or no ; when as instantly he saw the flames out, and that upon a table which was in a corner of the chamber, four of them were at primero, they passed, discarded, and set up money, as if they had truly played. At length they, debating upon a difference, fell into a quarrel in the chamber, which made such a noise with clashing of swords, that the miserable pilgrim called for help upon our lady of Gadalupe ; when the clattering of swords, and all other noise ceased, and he was all of a sweat with fear. Presently he felt that the bed and the clothes were pulled away from him by the uttermost corners, and he saw a man come in with a lighted torch in his hand, followed by two others, the one with a great brazen bason, and the other sharpi uing a little knife. Then began he to tremble, and all his hair to stand on end; he would have spoken, but was not able, when they were in ai him, the torch was put out ; and the pilgrim, thinking that they would kill him, put his hands forth against the knife, win n he felt that they laid hold on him, he gave a great cry, and the torch instantly kindled again, ami he saw himself between two mastiff dogs, who held him fa.-t iu their teeth. Jesus, cried out the pilgrim; at which name all those fantastic illusions vanished away, leaving him so weary and bo affrighted that he could Btaj there no longer. He then went, to a holy hermit, win. had a stone for his pillow, his stall' for a companion, and a death's head for his looking-glass; who learnedly attributed all these midnight revels to ' angels alien from the Lowes! quire, who gaffer less pains than other, as having not so much sinned, but do take pleasure to displease men with fright in.-, noises, rumours,. subtilties, and such like things, which they do iu the night in houses, which thereby they make altogether unha- bitable, not. being able otherwise to hurt but by these foolish and ridiculous efforts, limited and bound by the Almighty.' It appears by numerous stories in this book, that the Pilgrim's habit was frequently assumed by run- away lovers, of whom this volume contains many romantic accounts. It contains nothing allegorical. but professes to be a relation of matter-of-fact adventures. The most curious book which has fallen under my notice, upon these painful pilgrimages, is TJte Pilgrim of Loretto performing his Vow made to the Glorious Virgin Mary, Mother of God. By L. Richeomc. 4to, Paris, 1G30. Dedicated to Mary, Queen of Charles I. This work is intended to show the merits and ad. of pilgrimages to holy places; because the Jews were pilgrims to Jerusalem three times a year. The kings, or sages, made their pilgrimage, guided to the star of the world. Our Lord was a pilgrim iu Egypt, and he has left many places to which Christians should undertake holy pilgrimages, and obtain the fruits of his graces; among these, Loretto is the most famous. This chapel is forty feet long, twenty wide, and twenty-five high, built of ordinary small stones, hard and squared long, of the colour of brick; the walls adorued with paintings of sacred stories, a stone altar — 'breathing as it were something divine.' The image of the Blessed Virgin, crowned with precious stones; her gown of cloth of gold, with a sky-coloured mantle. On her left arm the little child Jesus, having a countenance full of grace and majesty. In the year 1291, the 9th of May, this house was at night carried by angels from Galilee into Scla- vnnia, and remained there four years. On the night of the 19th of November, 1294, it was removed, first into the Mark of Ancona, to a forest, the property of a lady named Loretto ; but the forest being infested with thieves, it was removed to a hill hard by. In less than a month, it was again removed to Reccanata, and there remains. Dr. Franklin says that three removes are as bad as a fire; but this house, with all its con- tents, was bodily removed, without injury, four times; and to prevenl scepticism, the author recounts some wonder.- per- formed by angels — 'we know by their naturall force, they roule about the huge frames of the celestial! Bodys, from East to West with an admirable swiftness and constancy now these six thousand yeares togeathcr, without any paine or difficnltj : a work without comparison more difficult, than to carry a house once or twice, from one country to another, although it be miraculous, and admirable for the rarenes.' He adds the testimony of Francis Prior, which, if true, decides the fact — ' he had often heard of his grandfather, that lie did see the house of the blessed Virgin, when being carried in I he air it lighted in the forest;' besides which, it was honoured with innumerable miracles. The result was, that emperors, popes, and princes presented gifts to the Virgin, until the massive gold and silver plate, diamonds, and baubles accumulated to 43 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. an incredible value; it has been thought that millions of pounds sterling would not have paid for them, at a fair valua- tion.1 This pilgrimage is completed in forty days ; thrice seven going, being the number of penance and purgation ; nine to spend at Loretto, for the orders of angels, the intellectual light; and ten to return, it being the number of perfection. The pilgrim is to use his rosary of sixty-three beads, the age of the Virgin when she died ; saying upon the small beads an Ave Maria, and upon the larger, every tenth, a Paternoster. Having confessed and communicated, three pilgrims commence the pilgrimage ; and the first day's meditation was on the condition of man, as a pilgrim and stranger upon earth. It closes with a canticle, of which this is the last stanza : — * Merrily then, let's march apace Unto this blessed Virgin's Hall, There shall we see the heaven's grace Inclosed in a Chappel small : And learne to be of this may de- wife Perfect Pilgrimes all our life.' Similar instructions are given for each day's meditation. After the ten commandments follow the five, which were for- gotten or omitted in the decalogue, and are called the Com- mandments of the Church. 1. To keep the feasts. 2. To hear mass. 3. To fast Lent, &c. 4. To confess. 5. To take the sacrament at Easter : to which are added, 6. Not to marry in times forbidden ; and 7. To pay tithes. When they had arrived at Loretto, themes were given for this nine days' meditation, during his sojourn there : as, a meditation upon the holy eucharist ; on the conception of the blessed Virgin ; on her ancestors ; presentation ; espousal of Joseph and Mary, both being virgins to the time of their death ; the incarnation ; nativity, &c. Before leaving Loretto, they pray to the Virgin ; the close of this prayer is—' to stirre us up to yield honour, praise, and immortal thanks to the Sonne and the Mother, who with their honour have made thee so honourable.' On their return, these pilgrims were mistaken for thieves, and narrowly escaped death. Many miracles are talked over ; and among them, one narrated by Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, in 1526, in his book against OEcolampadius, of a priest who lived many months without food or hunger, and in the midst of snow, without feeling cold, BY licking a stone. The best sentence in the volume is in the thirty-fifth day. The meditation is upon the preaching of John : ' he that in his preaching maketh himselfe admired, and not Jesus Christ, and draweth the harts of his hearers after himselfe, and not after Jesus Christ, is a thiefe, employing his Maisters money and guiftes to his owue uses, and not to his Maisters honour.' The three pilgrims being benighted, climbed an oak to pass the night. One of them said, ' If it rains, what shall we do ? 'We will doe,' answered another, 'as they do in Normandy.' •And what do they there?' replied he. 'They let it raiu,' quoth the other. At eleven o'clock at night, they are alarmed by a horrible spectacle. A monstrous old goat, with a black candle burning blue between his horns, read in a book, making a circle, when sixty -six sorcerers and witches came riding through the air, to this devil's ball. As they arrived, they did the old goat homage, by kissing under his tail, and com- menced dancing. Upon a bank they made an altar, and parodied the sacrifice of the mass. At length, the old goat caught sight of the pilgrims; in a moment the dance was dashed; three of them were turned into fierce wolves, who mounted the tree to devour the pilgrims ; but they made the 1 See Library of Learning, Svo, p. -1G3. sign of the cross, and said, ' Jesus Maria ;' the wolves fell down like sacks of corn, and the assembly vanished, leaving a most horrible stench behind them ;2 as if the plague had there burnt all the rags of her infection. All this is narrated, not as an allegory, but as a matter of fact. When such abominable stories were believed, we can hardly wonder at the brutal severity of our laws against poor old women, called witches. In the morning, among gobbets of flesh and other foul matters, they found a piece of turnip, cut to resemble a host,3 with a silver chalice and paten ; these they carried to the nearest monastery, from which tbey had been stolen. A merchant, who had befriended the pilgrims, when, in the most imminent danger of being murdered, vowed to devote himself to religion, and was instantly carried, by invisible agency, through the air, for many miles to a monastery, where he took the vows. The pilgrims meet some beset with pretended reformation, and recover them to holy church, by narrating some miracles ; among others, one of a priest who was captured by the Turks, and on his refusing to turn Mahometan, they took out his bowels and heart, and put them into his hands, leaving him to be devoured by wild beasts. But in fulfilment of a vow that he had made to the blessed Virgin, he got up and walked to Loretto, with his heart and bowels in his hands ; recounted to the officers of the church what had happened, showed them his empty body and his life in his hand, and fulfilled his vow ! A painting of this miracle is preserved in the chapel. The pilgrims, on the fortieth day, return in safety, and become monks. This curious and rare volume ends with the Litany, Rosary, and Corone of the blessed Virgin, in English : being the official prayers to Mary, as sanctioned by the church. These illustrate the dispute as to whether or not she is an object of worship with the Romish Church. The following is ' The Oblation of the Assumption :' — ' 0 Soueraigne Lady and Virgin, the honour of mankind, and beauty of the heavens, I humbly offer uuto thee 1 0. Aves and one Pater-noster, to the glorious mystery of thy Assump- tion ; when by the B. Sonne, thou wert called to his euer- lasting glory, & deseruedst at thy happy passage to haue pre- sent the holy Apostles thy seruants, & wast receiued body and soule into the heauenly habitations of the celestiall spirits, as Queene of the Angels & mother of their Lord & maister.' The lady who, with considerable talent and great humility, published Bunyan in epic poetry, under the signature of C. C. V. G., in a note to a Key, says, * It is a certain fact, and one not very gener- ally known, that a complete design of a Pilgrim's Progress is to be found in Luciau's " Hermotimus ; it is not to be imagined that Bunyan could have seen it there, from the limited educational advan- tages he possessed ; yet, the obvious allegory oc- curred to his mind, unschooled as it was, in a similar arrangement with that suggested by Lucian." '4 Mr. Tooke thus translates the passage:5 'Her- motimus, of Cladomena, of whom it is related, that his soul often quitted him, and after having wan- dered a long while about the world by itself, re- 2 Pp. 356, 357. This volume is of extreme rarity; it is in the Editor's library. 3 ' Host ;' the consecrated wafer. 4 This also struck Mr. Southey. See his Letter to Sir E. Brydges in his Autobiography, vol. ii. p. 285. * Lucian's Works, translated by Tooke, with Wieland's Notes, 4to, 1820, vol. ii. p. 268. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 49 turned again into its body, and that Hermotimus was several times taken for dead, and always rose again. ' To this Mr. Wieland adds a note : ' It was a singu- lar gift that he had of being able to leave his body, and come into it again ; and as a proof that his soul, while its body lay for dead, was actually out of it, he knew, not only to give account of the remotest places, and of what he had there seen and heard, with accuracy, and in conformity to truth, but also foretold sundry future events, as earthquakes and other calamities, which actually came to pass. And this he carried on so long, that his faithful wife was induced to deliver up his body to his enemies, during one of these emigrations of the soul, who immediately burnt it ; and thus for ever stopped all re-entrance to the poor soul. The learned Bishop Huet directly pronounces this beau- tiful story to be an old wife's tale.' Where the poor burnt-out soul obtained another habitation, we are not told. This notion of the soul wandering about without the body has been lately revived, among other absurdities called Mesmerism ; but what idea Bunyan could get from this absurd story, is far beyond my comprehension. Bernard's Isle of Man; or, the Legal Proceedings in Manshire against Sin. This interesting little volume was very popular. The author, a Puritan member of the Church of England, who, profiting by the personal respect felt for him by his bishop, escaped punishment, and was permitted to enjoy his living of Batcomb. The purity of his life ; his zeal for the conversion of perishing sinners ; and his obedience to the dic- tates of his own conscience, would, but for such protection, have subjected him to persecution. The late Dr. Adam Clarke1 considered that there was much reason to believe that Tlie Isle of Man, or Spenser's Faery Queen, gave birth to the ■ Pilgrim's Progress ' and ' Huly War. ' Dr. Southey 2 imagines that Bunyan had seen this book, because his verses introductory to the Second Part have some simi- larity to Bernard's Apology for his Allegory, which closes the volume. Such authorities induced me to a careful re-perusal of a book which had given me much pleasure in bygone days. Sin is the Thief and Robber ; lie stealeth our graces ; spoil- eth us of every blessiug; utterly undoeth us, and maketh miserable both body and soul. He is a murderer ; spares no person, sex, or age; a strong thief; no liuman power can bind him; a subtle thief; he beguiled Adam, David, yea, even Paul. The only watchman to spy him out is Godly- Jealousy. His resort is in Soul's Town, lodging in the heart. Sin is to be sought in the by-lanes, and in Sense, Thought, Word, and Deed Streets. The hue and cry is after fellows 1 Postscript to Wetherall's Life of Banyan, prefixed to The Pilgrim, an Epic Poem, by C. C. V. G., Parsons' Town, 1844. 2 Life of Bunyan, p. xci. VOL. III. called Outside, who nod or sleep at church, and, if awake, have their mind wandering; Sir Worldly-wise, a self-conceited earth-worm ; Sir Luke-warm, a Jaek-on-both-sides ; Sir Plaus- ible Civil ; Master Machiavel; a licentious fellow named Libertine ; a snappish fellow, one Scrupulosity ; and one Bab- bling-Babylonian; these conceal the villain Sin. To escape, he pretends to be an honest man; calls vices by virtuous names ; his relations, Ignorance, Error, Opinion, Idolatry, Subtilty, Custom. Forefathers, Sir Power, Sir Sampler, Sir Most-do, Sir Silly; Vain Hope, Presumption, Wilful and Saint- like, all shelter and hide him. The Justice, Lord Jesus, issues his warrant, God's Word ; to the Constable, Mr. Illuminated- Understanding, dwelling iu Regeneration, aided by his wife Grace ; his sons Will and Obedience, and his daughters, Faith, Hope, and Charity, with his men Humility and Self-Denial, and his maids Temperance and Patience. Having got his warrant, he calls to aid his next neighbour Godly Sorrow, with his seven sons Care, Clearing, Indignation, Fear, Vehement Desire, Zeal, and Revenue ; these are capable of apprehending the sturdiest thief. He goes to the common inn, an harlot's house called Mistress Heart, a receptacle for all villains and thieves, no dishonest person being denied house-room. Mis- tress Heart married her own father, one Old-man, keeping riot night and day, to prevent any godly motion from lodging there. The house has five doors, Hearing, Seeing, Tasting, Smelling, and Feeling. Eleven maids, impudent harlots, wait upon the guests, Love, Hatred, Desire, Detestation, Vaiu-hope, Despair, Fear, Audacity, Joy, Sorrow, and Anger, and a man- servant Will. The Dishes are the lusts of the flesh, served in the platter of pleasure ; the lust of the eyes in the plate of profit ; and the pride of life. The drink is the pleasures of sin ; their bed-room is natural corruption. ' In this room lyeth Mistress Heart, all her maids, her man, and all her guests together, like wild Irish.' The bed is impenitency, and the coverings carnal security ; when the constable enters, he attaches them all with apprehensions of God's wrath, and carries them before the judge, who examines the prisoners, and imprisons them until the assizes, in the custody of the jailer, New-man. ' If any prisoner breaks out, the sheriff Religion must bear the blame; saying, This is your religion, is it?' The keepers and fetters, as vows, fasting, prayer, &c, are described with the prison. The second part is the trial of the prisoner, and judgment without appeal ; the commission is Conscience ; the circuit the Soul ; the counsel for the king are Divine Reason and Quick- sightedness ; the clerk Memory ; the witness Godly Sorrow ; the grand Jury Holy Men, the inspired authors ; the traverse jury Faith, Love of God, Fear of God, Charity, Sincerity, Unity, Patience, Innocency, Chastity, Equity, Verity, and Contentation ; all these are challenges by the prisoners, who would be tried by Nature, Doubting, Careless, &c., all free- holders of great means. This the judge overrules ; Old-man is put on his trial first, and David, Job, Isaiah, and Paul, are witnesses against him. He pleads, ' There is no such thing as Original Corruptions ; Pelagius, a learned man, and all those now that are called Anabaptists, have hitherto, and yet do maiutaiu that sin cometh by imitation, and not by inbred pravity.3 Good, my lord, cast not away so old a man, for I 3 Acts xxviii. 22. This slander was thus published in 1 083. Iu the face of the Baptist Confession of Faith, printed in 1646, presented to Parliament, and many times reprinted, the eleventh Article in which is—' In the beginning God made all things verv good; created man after his own image; full with all meet perfection of nature, and free from all sin ; but long he abode not in this honour, Satan using the subtlety of the ser- pent to seduce, first Eve, then by her, seducing Adam, who, without any compulsion, in eating the forbidden fruit, trans- 50 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. am at this day 5569 years old.' He is found guilty, and his sentence is—' Thou shalt be carried back to tiie place of exe- cution, and there be cast off, with all thy deeds, and all thy members daily mortified and crucified with all thy lusts, of (very one that hath truly put on Christ.' Mistress Heart is then tried; Moses (Gen. viii. 21), Jeremiah (xvii. 9), Ezekiel, Matthew (xv. ',)), and others, give evidence, and she is con- victed, and sentenced to perpetual imprisonment under the jailer, Mr. New-man. All the rest of the prisoners are tried ; the juries called in due order; prisoners plead; witnesses are called; defence heard, verdict given, and sentence passed. One among the prisoners, named Papistry, has a long trial with numerous scriptures brought to testily against him: his sentence closes the book — ' That thou, the Master of Iniquity, with the Old Serpent called the Devil, or Satan thy father, with thy lewd mother that great whore, drunk with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus, which sitteth upon a scarlet-coloured beast; as also with that false prophet, the son of perdition, thy guide and governor, shall be cast alive where the dragon is, into the lake of fire burning with brimstone, there to be tormented with all the marked ones in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb ; without rest day and night, the smoke of which torment shall ascend up tor ever and for ever, without mercy or hope of redemption.' The contents form a key to the allegory. There is not the slightest similarity between this and the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' and the only resem- blance it bears to the ' Ploly War,' is making the senses the means of communication with the heart or soul — an idea usual and universal in every age, the use of which cannot subject a writer to the charge of plagiarism. A correspondent in the Gentleman s Magazine1 imagines the following Btrange genealogy or descent : Bunyan from Ber- nard ; from Y\ete\\ev's Purple Island; from Spenser's Faery Queen; from Gawin Douglas's King Hart; from the Old Mysteries and Moralities. He might have added, from the dreams of the Fathers ! ! ! Scudder's Christian'. Walk, 1025. This excellent book was much read by the Puri- tans and nonconformists, and was strongly recom- mended by Dr. Owen and R. Baxter. The sum of it is a Christian's directions to walk with God. The moral actions of man's life are aptly resembled by the metaphor of walking ; no man while he liveth here is at home. There are two contrary homes to which every man is always going, either to heaven or to hell. Every action of man is one pace or step whereby he goeth to the one place or the other; so that God's own children, while they live in this world as pilgrims and strangers, are but in the way, not in the country which they seek. gressed the command of God and fell, whereby death came ■upon alt his posterity, who now are conceived in sin, and, by nature, the children of wrath, the servants of sin, the subjects of death, and other miseries in this world, and for ever, unless t/ie Lord Jesus Christ set them free.' How marvellous, that a pious clergyman, while presenting to the world the Trial of Sin, should be guilty of so great a piece of iniquity, as this gross and uncalled-for misrepresentation ! 1 January 1844, p. 32. The book that has been most noticed as likely to have been seen by Banyan, is Bolswert's Pilgrimage of Duy/kens ami Willemy li- kens, Svo, Antwerp, 16-7.'" It was translated into French, and became some- what popular. This book was noticed by two gentlemen from Yorkshire, who ciilled to see my e-xtensive collection of early English Bibles and books, about twenty-four years ago. Among other books they noticed a very fine copy of this rare volume of Bolswert's, the prints in which reminded them of Banyan's ' Pilgrim,' and on their return to the north, a paragraph was inserted in a pro- vincial paper stating that our ' Pilgrim's Progress' was a translation. The falsehood of such a state- ment has been fully proved by Mr. Southey, to whom the identical volume was lent, for the pur- pose of fully entering into the question, and there appears not to be the slightest similarity in the two stories. The cuts which struck my visitors were — A man sleeping, and a pilgrim leaning over the bed ; through the open door two pilgrims are seen walking ; they stoop on the bank of a river, at the head of which, in the distance, the sun is setting. Another cut represents the pilgrims with fools' caps ou their heads, driven by a mob, and one of them before a man sitting with his secretary at a table; a third shows the alarmed pilgrim in a circle of lighted caudles, while a necromancer produces goblins and sprites from an overhanging hill; a fourth shows the two pilgrims going up a steep mountain, when one of them falls over the brink. The story is, that Dovekiu goes to Willemyukeu to awake her, aud she sets out; they wash in a river which has its source in Rome, and, taking the Netherlands in its icay, flows ou to Jerusalem. They are infested with vermin at a kermes;3 go through a number of ridiculous adventures, until one is blown from a rock, aud is lost ; the other arrives at Jerusalem, and is m;u-ried. This short analysis is by Mr. Southey ; but a translation of this pilgrimage into French lately fell into my hands, and on an attentive perusal of it, the object of the writer becomes perfectly apparent. Dovekin — Colombelle, the dove — is one who, without in- quiry, obeys the church. Willeuiynken — Volontairette, self- willed, or without restraint — will not submit without inquiry. These two sisters set out on pilgrimage : Colombelle is happy in every adventure, until blessed with a spleudid husbaud and great wealth ; while Volontairette gets into perpetual dangers aud difficulties, until she meets a violent death. The whole object is to prevent inquiry ; to keep the mind enslaved to priestcraft ; to obstruct that research into scriptural truth which the Holy Ghost enjoins, ' Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good.' l Tu. v. 21. 'Beloved, believe not every spirit, - Bolswcrt was an engraver of great eminence. He illus- trated Sucquet's Via Vide Eternce ; the plates to tins book are beautifully engraved, and are remarkable for Lis prolitio imagination in drawing devils. 3 ' Kermes ;' a Flemish fair. INTRODUCTION BY THE BDITOB. B1 ■•'.- tlio spirits whether they arc of r!'"l : be- eause many false prophi i out into the world. ' i to. iv. i. It i- almost a wonder that a tale me popish ; country, hai doI been published in English. We oow come to b similar claaa ofboolu pul I during Bunyan'fl life. Wholes towards Jerusalem < e. By John Eodges. A pocket rolume, I Tliis is a series of meditations on • fly Writ, arrauged in the onler of the alphabet. The 8ouU?s Progresse to the Celestz I! ,n; ,,'u Jeru ah m. By w vy of g >'/>';/ medita- tions awl holy contemplations. Accomj with divers learned exhortations ami pithy per- suasions, tending to Christianity and Humanity. In two parts. J'ir.-t, on the Nature of God, and ad, on the sum of the Gospel. By John Wells, small 4to, 1639. True Inventory of the Goods and Chat 8tition, late, of the parish of Ignorance, in the County of Blind Devotion, 4to, 1642. The Lost Will and Testament of Sir J. Presbyter; with his admonitions to legions of perjured friends. 4to, 1047. The two last belong to a series of satirical atta* :1 I icy. ' it'io.l Dud By II.. T., 1646; with a frontispiece representing a Saint armed, supported by Faith, Hope, and Charity, fighting Diabolus, attended by Ifundus and Caro. Flame is proceeding from the mouth of Diabolus. Tliis is a long and dreary conference between a sinner and Satan, with soliloquies and prayers <_:;' cot relieved by anything allegorical. The Christian Pilgrim in oj! Conquest. By John Castaniza. Printed in Paris, 1652. A enrious, but not allegorical volume of popish instructions, with fine plates. Tfie Pilgrim, from Quarles's EirJMms. ' 0 that my icays icere directed to keep thy statutes.' — rix.5. 1. ' Thus I, the object of the world's disdain, "With pilgrim face surround the weary earth : 1 only relish what the world counts vain ; Her moth's my grief; her sullen grief my mirth ; Her tight my darkness ; and her truth my error t Her freedom is my goal; and] . j terror. • not my ■eemfi re the* ; • my prison, and my home's above; My life's s preparation hot to leave thee; Like one I With tin I not live witho I 3. ' The world's a lab'rintl toons ' ways Are all OOmp : he's hurry'd bach that stays S thou irht ; and be 1 I It way - i irk, her path untrod, unev'n ; So hard's the . Heave:.! 4. . ;yringJ lab'rinth is betrench'd about On either hand with streams of sulph'rous fin closely3 sliding, erring in and out, their own invention, He falls without redress, and sinks without dimension. 5. - where shall I meet .<: lucky hand to lead my trembling paces? "What trusty lantern will direct my feet . rous places ? What hopes have I to pass without a g rough, a thousand fall 6. ' An unexpected star did gently slide • to a greater I \ I -ra'l found a double guide ; A pillar and a cloud — by day, by night ; Yet in rny desp'rate dangers, which be far .More great than theirs, I have no pillar, cloud, nor star. 7. ' 0 that the pinions of a clipping ; Would cut my passage through the empty air; Mine e; _ f mount above The reach of danger, '-are ! My backward eyes should near commit that fault, Whose lasting guilt should build a monument of sJL 8. f li^'ht Enrich mine eyes with thy refulg'-: I Thou art my path, direct my steps aright ; I have no other tight, no other way: I'll trust my God, and him alone pursue ; His law shall be my path, his heavenly tight n u Cap. iv. ' 0 Lord, who art the light, the way, the truth, I in whom there is no darkness, error, vanity, nor death : the light, without which there is darkness; the way, without which truth, without which there , the life, without which there is death. *. there be tight, and I shall see light, and eschew darkness ; I shall sec the way, and avoid wandering; I shall see the truth, and shun error j I shall see life, and escape death. Illuminate, 0 illuminate my blind soul, which sittcth in darkness, and the shadow of death : and direct my feet in the way of peace.' 1 'Anfractuous,' winding - ' (>yring;' full of tu i 3 ' Closely ;' slily, sen * ■ Clipping ;" 52 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 'Epia 2. ' Pilgrim, trudge on, what makes thy sod complain, Crowns thy complaint ; the way to rest is paiu : The road to resolution lies by doubt : The next way home's the farthest way about.' Under the Commonwealth, a great effort was made to purify the Church, by an examination of all those clergymen who, either from profane con- duct, ignorance, or want of talent, were a scandal to their profession ; or whose violent attachment to monarchy led them to foment rebellion against the Government, and who were unfit for the work of the ministry; all such were ejected from their livings ; and pluralists were strictly limited to one living, the selection being left to themselves. These triers and judges are all named in an ordinance of the Lords and Commons, October 20, 1645, and September 26, 1646. The description of charac- ters they were to try, is thus given: — ' All persons that shall blasphemously speak or write any thing of God, his holy word, or Sacraments. An incestuous person. An adulterer. A fornicator. A drunkard. A pro- fane swearer or curser. One that hath taken away the life of any person maliciously. All worshippers of images, Crosses, Crucifixes, or Reliques ; all that shall make any images of the Trinity, or of any Person thereof. All religious worshippers of Saints, Angels, or any mere creature. Any person that shall profess himself not to be in charity with his neighbour. Any person that shall challenge any other person by word, message, or writing to fight, or that shall accept such chal- lenge and agree thereto. Any person that shall knowingly carry any such challenge by word, message, or writing. Any person that shall upon the Lord's day use any dancing, playing at dice, or cards, or any other game; Masking, Wake, Shooting, Bowling, playing at foot-ball, or stool-ball, Wrestling, or that shall make, or resort unto any plays, interludes, fencing, Bull- baiting or Bear-baiting, or that shall use hawking, hunting or coursing, fishing or fowling, or that shall publickly expose any wares to sale, otherwise than as is provided by an ordin- ance of parliament. Any person that shall travel on the Lord's "Day without reasonable cause. Any person that keepeth a known stewes or brothel house, or that shall solicit the chastity of any person for himself or any other. Any person, father or mother, that shall consent to the marriage of their child to a papist, or any person that shall marry a papist. Any person that shall repair for any advice unto any witch, wizard, or fortune teller. Any person that shall assault his parents, or any magistrate, Minister, or Elder in the execution of his office. Any person that shall be legally attainted of Burretry, Forgery, Extortion, or Bribery. And the severall and respective Elderships shall have power like- wise to suspend from the sacrament of the Lords Supper all ministers that shall be duly proved to be guilty of any of the crimes aforesaid, from giving or receiving the Sacrement of the Lords Supper.' With power to appeal to the provincial Assembly, to the Nationall, and from thence to the Parliament.1 The commissioners, called triers, ejected many from their livings who had been a disgrace to their calling. The character of the clergy was at a very low standard. Bunyan called them proud, wanton, drunkards, covetous, riding after tithe- cocks and handfuls of barley.2 And the exclusion of such from their livings, has been since called the sufferings of the clergy ! To ridicule the efforts of these triers, and, at the same time, some of the Calvinistic doctrines, a small volume was pub- lished, entitled The Examination of Tilenus in Utopia, London, 1658; said to have been written by Bishop Womack ;3 and merely because the names of the supposed triers are Dr. Absolute, Mr. Fatality, Mr. Fri-babe, Dr. Damn-man, Mr. Take o' Trust, Mr. Narrow Grace [Philip Rye], Mr. Know-little [Hugh Peters], Dr. Dubious [R. Baxter], their own, my Title set; Yea, others, half my name and Title too; Save Btitched to their Hooks, to make them Jo; But yet they, by their Features, do declare Themselves not mine to be, whose ere they arc.' No trace lias been found of the book or books which appeared before L684, under Bunyan 's ini- tials or half his name. The only counterfeit which has been discovered is in the library of the Baptist Mission House, wanting the frontispiece.1 It was published under the following title: — 'The Second Fart of the ^tlgftmg 3jirOgr*00, from this present World of Wickedness and Misery to an eternity of Holiness and Felicity, exactly described under the similitude of a Dream, kc. They were Strangers and Pilgrims on Earth, Ileb. xi. 13 — 10. Let tis lay aside every weight and the sin that doth so easily beset us, Heb. xii. 7. London, for Thomas Malthus at the Sun in the Poultry 1G83.' The frontispiece has two whole-length portraits, one sleeping with his head resting on his hand — both in clerical garb. The author dedicates, with some pomp, his little work to Jehovah, aud signs it T. S. There are two poems at the end of the volume by R. B., and the author's Apology for his Rook. It is very probable, from this Apology, that the author was oue of those who, when consulted about publishing Bun- yan's First Part, said, 'No.' He calls Bunyan's volume 'a necessary and useful tract, which hath deservedly obtained such an universal esteem and commendation ;' and he then destroys all his commendation by discovering a four-fold defect in that discourse: First, nothing is said of man in his first creation ; secoud, nor of his misery in his lapsed state, before conversion ; third, briefly passing over Divine goodness in reconciling sin- ners ; and, fourthly, the reading of it occasioned, in vain and frothy minds, lightness aud laughter. Such carping criticism is utterly unworthy of comment. Bunyan finds his pilgrim fallen from his first creation into a state of misery, and under a sense of his danger, crying, ' What shall I do to be saved ?' He unfolds, in multitudinous variety, instances of Divine goodness in reconciling sinners, and almost irresistibly leads his reader to accompany the poor pilgrim in his way to the celestial city, full of the solemnity of his heavenly calling. Who the author of this Pilgrim's Progress is, it may be difficult to ascertain. He dreams that multitudes are dancing in the broad way to misery, and only two or three toiling on the narrow up-hill path to happiness. lie accounts for this, first, from infant baptism leading them to imagine that they are in the right path, and that no profaneness can prevent them attaining that eternal inheritance which they vainly imagine to be a right conferred upon them in their christening; secondly, they deli ght in sin; thirdly, preferring to go to hell with a multitude, rather than to heaven with a few; fourthly, because their reward is of merit, and not of srift; fifthly, 'many refuse the narrow way because of its sim- plicity: they must have their glorious colleges and splendid ministers, their beautiful quires, aud raised altars, with hang- 1 A perfect copy is also in the Editor's library. vol. in. ings of anas and tapestry, furnished with the finest silver and gold of Ophir, a gaudy and pompons worship and musick to delight their spirits,' &c. He found these people dancing « it h mirth and jollity round a bottomless pit to the outcries and screeches of the damned, and playing with the flames of hell. One of these madmen becomes alarmed at the preaching of Boanerges, and Conscience and Judgment do their utmost to terrify him. Then comes Affection, and promises the poor peni- tent wings to fly above the clouds. Will huffs and hectors, and must have him leave off canting and whining ; but after a long dialogue, Will consents to go on pilgrimage. They meet with Apollyon, and have other adventures: a poor, spirit li of the inimitable Rrst Part by Bunyan. After passing more than half his pilgrimage, his old heart is taken out, and a new one given to him. Under the idea of a feast, where the guests arc Gad on dishes of gospel mysteries, sauced with eternity, the author states his peculiar notions. He at length arrives at the River; Faith and Hope support him; he is received by the Shining Ones, and enters the city. In all probability, this book never reached a second edition, being totally eclipsed by the real Second Part, in 1684. The author of this forgery, in his Apology, refers to a custom among the Puritans of giving the mourners at a funeral a book instead of rings, gloves, wine, or biscuit. ' This,' he says, ' would prevent trifling discourse, as is too commonly used on such occasions. Among those few who have practised this, abundance of good hath been done by that means ; and who knows, were it more generally used at our burials, what good might be effected thereby ? ' " At length, in 1684, Bunyan published the Second Part of his 'Pilgrim's Progress,' in a similar volume to his first. It has 224 pages. For the use of a fine copy of this rare book, we are indebted to the kindness of the executors of the late Lea Wilson, Esq. In this volume seven pages are in a larger type than the rest, from p. 100 to 1U6 inclusive; p. 106 is numbered 120. It has only one cut — the dance round the head of Giant Despair. The next edition which we have been fortunate enough to obtain has a similar title to the first; it has no indication of what edition it is, but bears the date of 16S7. These two editions were published by N. Ponder in the Poultry. The sixth edition appeared in 1693, by Ponder and Bod- - One of these books is the memorial of a most valuable Seventh-day Baptist: The Last Legacy of Mr. Joseph Davis, who departed this Life, Feb. 1C, 170?, being a Brief Account of the mu-t Material Circumstances of his Life and Profession. Written by himself, and given at his Funeral to his Friends and Acquaintances, &c. Within a black border. Another book used for this purpose was Dr. Bates's Everlasting Heat of the Saints in Heaven. My copy has, within a black bor- der, 'In remembrance of Mrs. Mary Cross, the late wife of Mr. John Cross, &c. &c. This book she had a particular respect for ; and therefore it is hoped it will by her Friends be more acceptable than Gloves.' It is bound in black, with a irilt skull and cross-bones on the cover. Another of these volumes was Dr. Bates's Four Last Things, with his Portrait. On the title is printed, 'Recommended as proper to be given at Funerals.' Second edition, 1691. It is dedicated to Rachel Lady Russcl. See the bookseller's advertisement, as to custom of giving a book at funerals. 8 58 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. dington, in Duck Lane; the seventh in 1696, bj Ponder; the eighth by Boddington, in 1702 ; the ninth is by N. Boddington, at the Golden Ball, in Duck Lane, 1708.1 Since that time, innumerable editions have issued from the press ; but before giving a short account of the most prominent of these, we must not forget an impudent forgery, called the Third Part of this popular allegory. It was probably the intention of Bunyan to write a Third Part. Christian's four boys, with their wives and children, are represented as remaining to be a blessing to the church. He closes his Second Part with these words : ' Should it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it, an account of what I here am silent about ; mean- time I bid my reader, Adieu. ' His design might have been to display the difficulties of maintaining a course according to godliness in the busy scenes of life, among mechanics, tradesmen, and others. His death, in 1688, cut short his labours. The extensive circulation of Bunyan's Works, and his extraordinary fame as an author, excited the cupidity of contemptible scribblers to forge his name to productions quite unworthy of his great natural and acquired talent. He had scarcely entered into rest, before a tract appeared, which might, from its title, have imposed upon those not well acquainted with his style of writing. It is a quarto tract, entitled, 'The Saint's Triumph, or The Glory of the Saints with Jesus Christ. De- scribing the joys and comforts a believer reaps in heaven, after his painful pilgrimage and sufferings on earth. With weighty encouragements to draw poor doubting Christians to Christ. Laying open the main lets and hinderances which keep them from him. With helps to recover God's favour. To which is added ; The Glorious Resurrection in the last day, for them that sleep in Jesus Christ. Discoursed in a Divine ejaculation, by J. B. With a bold woodcut portrait of John Bunyan on the title-page. London Bridge, printed for J. Blare, at the Looking Glass, 1688.' Neither the style, nor sentiments, nor the use of Latin quotations, have the slightest similarity to our great author's works. In a very few years there was published : — Hie Pilgrim's Progress, (be, the Third Part — to which is added, The Life and Death of John Bunyan, Author of the First and Second Part: this compleating the whole Progress. This Third Part made its appearance in 1692 ; and although the title does not directly say that it was written by Bunyan, yet it was at first gene- rally received as such. In 1695,2 it reached a second edition, and a sixth in 1705. In 1708, it was denounced in the title to the seventh edition of the Second Part, by a ' Note, the Tldrd Part, suggested to be J. Bunyan's, is an imposture.' It is surprising that so contemptible a production could for one moment have been received by the public as written by Bunyan. The late Rev. John New- ton, in very happy language, asserts that ' a com- mon hedge-stake deserves as much to be compared with Aaron's rod, which yielded blossoms and almonds, as this poor performance to be obtruded upon the world as the production of Bunyan.'3 Dr. Ryland justly observes, that ' when the anony- mous scribbler of the Third Part of the Pilgrim's Progress tried to obtrude his stuff on the world as the production of Mr. Bunyan, the cheat was soon discovered ; every Christian of taste could see the difference as easily as we can discern the superior excellence of a Raphael or a Titian from the pro- ductions of a common dauber: and we can as easily distinguish Bunyan from all other writers, as we can discern the difference between the finest cambric and a piece of hop-sacking. ' i The author of this forgery is as yet unknown. A much more respectable attempt was recently made towards a Third Part, under the title of 'Pilgrims of the nineteenth century; a continua- tion of the " Pilgrim's Progress," upon the plan projected by Mr. Bunyan. Containing a history of a visit to the town of Toleration ; with an ac- count of its charter, and a description of the prin- ciples and customs of its inhabitants. Under the similitude of a dream. By Joseph Ivimey. 1827.' The object of this volume is to show the advan- tages which resulted from the Act of Toleration, by the adventures of Christian's children ; but what they had to do with the nineteenth century, may be difficult to ascertain. It is full of political allusions, and proclaims the author's peculiar sen- timents. Bunyan's object was to win souls to Christ, under the influence of whose presence the most highly-liberal principles, both political and re- ligious, will be fostered. Intolerance, fanaticism, and bigotry fly from the presence of the Saviour as naturally as the shades of night vanish before the rising sun. There is much valuable and inter- esting information in Mr. Ivimey 's volume to Pro- testant dissenters, but even that is much encum- bered. He is so delighted with Toleration as almost to forget that it is only one step towards liberty. When Christianity shall have spread its genial influences over our rulers, all sects will be equally cherished in running the race of benevo- lence and charity ; then the burning of Christians 1 All these editions are in the Editor's lihrary. 2 The first edition is in the British Museum, but it has I no title. The Life which is appended to it has the date 1 692. | 3 Preface to the first edition of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' with Mr. Newton's Notes. 12mo, London, 1776. Many times reprinted. 4 Preface to Bunyan's Works. Svo, 1792. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. M for their obedience to God, or tolerating them to love ami worship their Maker, according to the dictates of their eoiwicnccs, hut still compelling them to support what is in their conviction Anti- ohristian, will be equally wondered at as gigantic grievances, and an intolerant ahuse of governing powers. Formany years the 'Pilgrim's Progress' was Continually printed on very ordinary paper, and innumerable were the copies that issued from tlie press ; the woodcuts, when worn out, were replaced by an inferior Bet. Each Part was published separ- ately, in the ordinary shilling chap-hook form ; these are sometimes met with hound together, and forming a stout volume. Thus Part hirst, twenty- second edition, with new cuts, 1727, with Part Second, the thirteenth edition, with five cuts and a note, stating that the Third Part is an imposture; and then Part Third, thirteenth edition, 1743. Another copy has Tart First, the twenty-third edition, 1731; Part Second, the fourteenth edition, 1728; and Part Third, the twelfth edition, not dated. The first edition of the Three Parts, uni- formly printed, which has fallen under our notice, is by J. Clarke, 1743; a MS. memorandum gives the price of the volume, Is. 6d. The most wretched set of cuts are to an edition printed for D. Bunyan, in Fleet Street ; another, with similar cuts, is sold by J. Bunyan above the Monument, meaning higher up Fish Street Hill than where the Monu- ment stands. In 1728, there appeared a hand- some edition of the Two Parts, ' Adorned with curious sculptures by J. Sturt.' The editor of that edition states, that the former were printed for the poorer sort at a cheap rate [in a small type], so that many worthy Christians by age and infirmities were deprived of the benefit of it. This was duly weighed by persons of distinction and piety, who determined to have it handsomely printed, and they generously contributed, by large subscriptions, to secure its being a correct edition. In comparison with all that had preceded it, this shone forth an elegant 8vo volume, fit, at that period, to ornament any library or drawing-room. The engravings are from the old designs, and well executed. This was for many years considered to be the standard edition, and was frequently re- printed; in 1775, two editions of this volume were published, after which that with Mason's Notes superseded it. Who the editor was is not known; hut this book very sadly abounds with gross errors. When Faithful joined Christian, in the conversation about the old man who offered Faithful his three (laughters, the editor has altered it to ' one of them.' In Part II. p. G3, ' lines ' is put for 'lions;' another and very serious error occurs in the cate- chising of James by Prudence; she asks him, ' How doth God the Son save thee ?' the answer and the next question is left out ; and it appears thus: «By his illiinuna/iuii, by his ruionil'mii, and by his p-eservat ion.'' The lines that were omitted are: "James. By his Righteousness, Death, and Blood, and Life, l'lud. And how doth God tho Holy Ghost save thee ?' Mr. Mason, in his edi- tion with notes, took as his standard this erroneous copy, and put a note at the bottom of the page [G'J]: (/) I cannot prevail en myself to let this part | without making an observation. .Mr. Bunyan expresses him- self \i ty elcir, and sound in the faith ; but here it is not so: for what is here ascribed to the Son, is rather the work of the Spirit ; and indeed the work of salvation effected by the Son of God is entirely left out. I am, therefore, inclined to think that here is a chasm, though not, perhaps, in the author's ori- ginal work, hut by its passing through later editions. It really seems defective here in the explanation of salvation by the distinct offices of the Holy Trimly. In the next edition with Mason's Notes, he, having discovered his error, very properly inserted the missing lines, hut as improperly continued his note reflecting upon Bunyan ; 1 and it was con- tinued in many subsequent editions in which the text was correctly printed. A line is omitted in Sturt's edition, Part II. p. 185, and in many subsequent ones. ' How were their eyes now filled with celestial visions,' should be, ' How were their ears now filled with heavenly noises and their eyes delighted with celestial visions.' But a more unaccountable error occurs in the First Part, p. 95, where Bunyan says 'the Brute2 in his kind serves God far better than he ' [Talkative], the printer has strangely altered the word ' Brute ' for ' Brewer.' It is easier to account for an error in printing a missal in Paris, in the rubric of which should be, ' lei le pretre otera sa calotte ' (here the priest shall take off his cap) ; but in printing, the a was exchanged for u in calotte: the printer was ruined and the books burnt. It is quite impossible to notice all the errors ; they abound in almost every page of all these interesting editions. Some of these errors have been continued through nearly all the modern editions, with other serious alterations. Thus, when the pilgrims, in the Second Part, leave the Delectable Mountains, they in a song record the goodness of God in giving them, at proper distances, places of rest, ' Behold, how Jiihj are tho stages set ! ' the word ' stages ' is altered in many to 'tables;'3 and in other editions to 1 In possession of S. J. Button, Esq., Racquet Court; of Mr. Gammon, Bethnal Green ; and of the Editor. This singu- lar note, hv Mr. Mason, is reprinted in an edition of "huh many thousand copies were sold, published by Hummer and Brewis, Love Lane, Eastcheap. l-'nio, 1S13. 2 It is correct in the edition of 1728, of which Lord Aflh- bnrnham and the Editor have very fine copies. ■ \\ ith Scott's Notes and Montgomery s Lssay. Glasgow, by Colli us. 60 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ' stables. ' x When the pilgrims escape from Doubt- ing Castle, they sing, 'Out of the way we went,' &c. ; one line of these verses is left out in all the modern editions— an omission which ought to have been seen and supplied, because all these songs throughout the volume are uniformly in stanzas of six lines. In Hopeful's account of his conver- sion, Bunyan says, ' I have committed sin enough in one duty to send me to hell;' this is altered to 'one day.'2 In the conversation with Igno- rance, Christian observes, « When OUR thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the Word;' meaning when we sit in judgment upon our thoughts, and our opinion of our thoughts agrees with the Word : but the strength and meaning of this serious passage is lost by altering the words to 'when the thoughts of our hearts,' &c. This alteration has been very generally, if not univer- sally, made. Another very extraordinary error has crept into many editions, and among them into the elegant copies printed by Southey, and that by the Art-Union with the prints in oblong folio. It is in the conversation between Christian and Hopeful, about the robbery of Little Faith. Bunyan refers to four characters in Scripture who were notable champions, but who were very roughly handled by Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt ; they made David (Ps. xxxviii.) groan, mourn, and roar. Heman and Hezekiah too, though champions in their day, had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter would go try what he could do — they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. Some editor not acquainted with Heman {see Ps. lxxxvm.), and not troubling himself to find who he was, changed the name to one much more common and familiar, and called him ' Hainan.'3 More recent editors, including Mr. Southey and the Art-Union, probably conceiving that Hainan, however exalted he was as a sinner, was not one of the Lord's champions in his day, changed the name to that of Mordecai.4 A most unwarrantable and foolish alteration. In the Second Part,5 ' This Vision ' is put for ' This Visitor.' The marginal note, ' The Light of the Word ' is changed to ' The Light of the World.' 6 This error is perpetuated by Southey and others. A copy of Sturt's edition, with every error marked in the text, appears to be more covered with spots than a leopard's skin. This wondrous Dream has been translated into nearly all the languages of the world. To Mr. 1 Editions with Mason's Notes, aud iu the first with Sturt's Plates, 1728. 2 Sturt's edition, p. 167. 3 Editions by Birds and Co., Edinburgh, 8vo; Mosley, Gains- borough, 1792, &c. ; London, with Newton's Notes, 1776; and by D. Bunyan, 1768. 4 It occurs also in au edition by Hodson and Deighton, London, 1792. * Sturt's edition, p. 9. e P. 173. Doe's enumeration of one hundred thousand co-pies in English having been circulated in the life of the author, must be added all the editions in North America. There were then also translations into French, Flemish, Dutch, Welsh, Gaelic, and Irish ; and, since then, it has been read by the Christian Hebrews in the holy city, Jerusalem, in their own language, without points ; and probably beside the waters of Jordan and Tiberias ; and far may it spread !7 It has also been translated into Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Danish, German, Estonian, Armenian, Burmese, Singhalese, Orissa, Hindoo- stanee; Bengalee, by Dr. Carey, 8vo, Serampore, 1821; Tamil, Marathi, Canarese, Gujaratti, Malay, Arabic, in a handsome 8vo volume, with woodcuts, printed at Malta; Romaic,8 Samoan, Tahitian, Pichuana, Bechuana, Malagasy, New Zealand. y And in Dr. Adam Clarke's library was a copy in Latin, entitled Per ■egrinalis Progressus, a J. Bunyan Lat. edit, a Gul. Massey, 4to. A copy of the Welsh translation, published before Bunyan's decease, but which had not come to his knowledge, is in the library of Miss Atherton of Kersell Cell, near Manchester. That lady, not understanding the Welsh language, most readily and kindly furnished me with some particulars of this rare volume, extracted in Welsh ; and it appears that the title- page exactly follows the English editions. The preface is signed S. H. It has the marginal notes and references. Licensed by R. Midgley, 23rd of November 1687. Printed in London by J. Rich- ardson, 12mo, 168$, the 10th of January. ' The translator advises such as desire to learn to read Welsh, to buy the Primer and Almanack of Mr. Thomas Jones, because the letters and syllables are in them. ' The late Mr. Thomas Rodd informed me that he possessed a copy in Welsh, translated by Thomas Jones, published in 1699, small 8vo. The Dutch edition was very neatly printed, with superior cuts, t' Utrecht, by Jan van Paddenburgh, 1684. The French translation is a neat pocket volume, with copper-plates, very superior to any embellish- ments in the early English copies, Amsterdam, chez Boekholt, 1685. The frontispiece represents our pilgrim with his burden on his shoulders, knocking at the wicket-gate. The title is, Voyage oVun ChrestienversVEtemitc, par Monsieur Bunjan F.M. en Bedtford. The ' Lecteur ami' comprises fourteen pages. In it he describes ' The author of this book, Mr. John Bunyan, is, at this time, an upright and faithful minister at Bedford, in England 7 Gentleman s Magazine, April 1844. It is in a small 12mo, the price of which is 6*. ! 8 Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress,' Romaic, by S. J. Bilson. 8vo, Melitse, 1824. Brit. Mus. Addl. Books. " See Lists by Tract Society, iu Report, 1847 ; and in T/'te Pilgrim, a tract. Also, copies iu possession of the Editor. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 61 — a man of unexampled piety and devotion ■. such an one as lit im trius, of whom John speaks in his 3rd Epistle end 12th verse. Even' one bears witness that, in this little volume, ::iul in his other works, appear a manifest and peculiar wisdom, very great experience, and a penetrating sight into spiritual things. The design of our author is simply to present a peni- tent soul ' wards Eternity, How he turns from his former state of perdition, leaves his home, and sets his steps towards the Jerusalem tni high ; his adven- tures by the way ; his view of those that choose for themselves bypaths that lead to hell; we donht not hut that sonic, in turning over these leaves, will read their own experience inge- niously drawn out, and their own portrait placed before their eyes, as if they saw themselves in a glass. The Christian traveller, the true citizen of Zion, is skilfully portrayed to the life. If a hypocritical professor should have his eyes illumin- ated, he will here see himself under another name than that of Christian — his foolish imaginations overthrown — his hopes perish, and all his expectations swept away like a cobweb. If any one judge that this mode of writing is not sufficiently solemn for such spiritual matters, and doubt the propriety of representing them BS a dream and under such images, they should recollect that our author was unintentionally led to this manner of writing, and found himself very much embarrassed as to the propriety of publishing it to the world ; and did not venture to print it until persuaded by many learned and pious men. Our Bunyan wrote allegorieally, in the hopes that Divine truth might reach the very depths of the heart. Many great theologians have treated the most important truths in the same figurative manner, following the footsteps of our great and sovereign Rabbi Jesus Christ, who taught by simili- tudes, as also the prophets were constrained by the Holy Spirit to speak. Oh that our readers may find themselves to be true citizens of Zion, with their feet in the Royal Highway, that they may be fortified, consoled, and instructed; and, if convinced of backsliding, may return to the paths of peace, to love King Jesus, the Lord of the Hill. And may many take our Christian by the skirt of his robe, and say, we will go. with thee. May it arrest the attention of the Flemings as it has that of the English, among whom, in a very few years, it has been printed many times.' This interesting preface, which we have some- what abridged, ends with a quotation from Acts xx. 32. Bunyan's language is so purely English, his style so colloquial, his names and titles so full of meaning, that it must have heen a most difficult hook to translate. This is seen on turning to the fifth question put hy Prudence, on the Pilgrim's arrival at the Palace Beautiful. ' Pru. Et qui est ce, je te prie, que te rend si desireux de la montagne de Sion ? ' Chree. Quoy, demandes tu cela? O mon Dieu ! comme le rerf brame apres le decours des eaux fraisches, ainsi mon eeur2 desire apres toy le Dieu, le Grand Dieu vivaut. C'est la ou j'attends de voir en vie celuy que je vis autrefois mort, et pendu sur la croix; c'est la ou j'espere d'etre nnefois deoharge de toutes ces choses, qui mccausent tant de peine, tant de doideur, taut de dommage, & m'en ont cause jnsqnes a te jour icy ; c'est la, a ce qu'on ma dit, qu'il n'y aura plus de mort ; c'est la ou je jouiray d'une compagnie, a laquelle je prendray le plus grand plaisir. Car, pour te dire la veritc, je l'aiine ; voire 1 Uniformly spelt, in this book, ceur. Me t'aimeray en Urate obeissanee. Tante que vivray, O mon Dieu, ma puissance. Je dis, je l'aiine, a cause qu'il a illumine lis yeui obscurcis de mon entendement par one lumiere divine, procedee ties rayons du soleil de sa grace, lumiere qui m'a servi tie guide pour me coudnire en ce chemin; mais aussi je l'aiine, pource qu'il ma deoharge' de mon fardeau: ..V je me trouve las a cause tie mon ma] iutiiieiir ; ah que mon ceur soupire apres ce lieu, oil je serai delivre de niourir ; apres eelte compagnie, Ou l'ou ehantera a jamais, saint, saint, saint, est ]i'',teni:d des armer-.' The answer in English is one hundred ami two words; in French, extending to two hundred ami twenty. The Slough of Despond is called Le Bourbier Misfiance; Worldly- Wiseman, Sage Mondain; Faithful, Loyal; Talkative, Grand Jaseur; Pick- thank, Flaiieur ; My Old Lord Letchery, Mon vieux Seigneur Assez Bon ; No-good, Vaidrien ; Live-loose, Vivan J\L>rf ; Hate-light, Grand Hai- veux ; Bye-ends, Auirefin. The ]>oetry would have seriously puzzled the worthy translator; hut instead of attempting it. he supplies its place from French psahns or hymns. The copper-plates are rather line specimens of drawing and engraving. Sweep- ing the room at the Interpreter's house, and At- tempting to awake the Sleepers on the Enchanted Ground, are new designs. - There is a copy in the British Museum some- what modernized, Rotterdam, 1722 ;3 and a very handsome edition, with plates hy an eminent Dutch engraver, printed at Rotterdam, 1 757 ; * and one with woodcuts, 12mo, Basle, 1728,5 &C. kc. These are French Protestant translations ; hesides which, there have heen man)' editions of a Roman Catholic translation into French. This is greatly abridged, and, of course, Giant Pope is omitted; and so is the remark ahout Peter heing afraid of a sorry girl. They are very neat pocket volumes, printed in Paris, 1783; at Rouen, 1821, &c. &c, entitled, Le PiUrinage (Tun Homme" Chrkien Traduit de L 'Anglois. In the preface, the Roman Catholic translator calls the English nation jiulicieuse el edairie. The Editor bought a copy of this hook in a convent in France. The lady-abbess assured him that it was a most excellent work to promote piety and virtue! — a sentence which first led him to the discovery that the old lady had a remark- ably sweet voice. Dr. Cheever accounts thus for the extensive popularity of our ' Pilgrim:' — ' It is a piece of rich tapestry, in which, with the Word of God before him as his original and guide, and with all these heavenly materials tinged in the deep feelings of his own coii- 2 A fine copy is in the library of S.J. Button, Esq, E Court, Tleet Street. 3 British Museum, 111.'?, b. * In possession of Mr. Thornton, the Cottage, Oapham Common. 1 A line copy in possession of the Editor. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. verted heart, he wove into one beautiful picture the spiritual scenery and thrilling events of his own journey as a Christian pilgrim. It is all fresh and graphic from his own experience, vivid with real life, freshly portrayed from the Word of God ; nor can you tell that Bunyan was of any sect, save that he was a living member of the church of Christ.' This work has afforded the deepest interest to the painter ; and it has also excited the poet to sing our Pilgrim's adventures, both in rhyme and blank verse. The ornamental embellishments were at first good woodcuts for a chap-book,1 faithful copies of which will be found in this edition ; these dwindled down, in succeeding editions, to the cheap- est and most contemptible cuts that can be con- ceived. The worst of these is in an edition of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' by a namesake of the author, Mr. D. Bunyan. The next series were the copper- plates to Sturt's edition ; fine impressions of these designs are found, four on a page, in the first com- plete edition of Bunyan 's Works, 1737. Since then, many beautiful sets of engravings have been published in the editions by Heptiustall and Scott, between 1788 and 1793, the most beautiful being a series of sixteen elegant designs by Stothard, engraved by Strut.2 These were reduced, and published in 4to, with Sonnets by George Towns- end, Prebendary of Durham. Thus, at length, we find that Bishop Bunyan keeps company with other dignitaries. Twenty-four original outlines were published by Mrs. Mackenzie ; and a set of very beautiful engravings, with a valuable letterpress accompaniment by J. Conder. The edition by Southey is elegantly illustrated. The Art- Union has favoured the public with a series of illustra- tions in oblong folio, some of which, however ele- gantly designed, would probably puzzle even the keen, penetrating eye of Bunyan to discover what work they were intended to illustrate.3 A more Feries defect is observable in this oblong edition. Bunyan's terms are considered as too vulgar, and two of his words are exchanged for the more polite term of ' harlot ;'4 while, on the corner of page 36, an indecent cut is exhibited ! The Introduction and Life of Bunyan, by Godwin and Pocock, are well written and handsomely illustrated. A simi- lar series of outline engravings to the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' by the daughter of a British Admiral, were given to the subscribers to the Sailor's Home in Well Street, London. They were on tinted paper, the same size as those by the Art-Union, but very inferior both in design and engraving. A large sheet of beautiful woodcuts was lately pub- lished by that eminent artist, Thomas Gilks. The 1 Books sold by hawkers. 2 Sturt and Strut were men of a different era. 8 The meeting of Christian and Faithful, one of them with crucifix ; the destruction of By-end9, &c. 1 See page 47. most elegant edition for a drawing-room or library that has been published is one just finished, by Mr. Bogue. It is not only a correct text, but is rich in illustrative woodcuts and borders, and has a deeply-interesting Memoir of Bunyan, from the pen of Dr. Cheever. In 1844, a very handsome edition of the 'Pil- grim's Progress' was published in folio, on fine paper, for purposes of illustration. It has a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Scott. CHAPTER VII. VERSIONS, COMMENTS, AND IMITATIONS OF TnE ' PILGRIM.' The earliest poetical attempts to promote the circulation of the ' Pilgrim' is of the First Part, done into verse by Francis Hoffman, printed by R. Tookey, 1706. Not only is the prose versified, but he has, according to his taste, versified Bun- yan's verse. Thus, the long controversy as to the propriety of publishing the work, in Hoffman's ' One Part said, Print it ; others it decry'd ; Some said, it would do good, which some denied : I, seeing them divided to Extreams, Could from them hope no Favour but the Flames ; Resolving, since Two Parties could not do't, Being Third my-self, to give the casting Vote, And have it printed.' It has a smart hit at occasional conformity. Thus Apollyon says — ' "T is with professors, now in Fashion grown, T' espouse his cause a while to serve their own ; Come, with me go occasionally back, Rather than a preferment lose, or lack.' 5 Judging from these and other specimens, it is not surprising that the work was never repub- lished. It has some woodcuts, and is very rare.6 Many attempts have been made to render Bunyan's ' Pilgrim ' a popular work in poetry, but all have failed. The most respectable is by J. S. Dodd, M.D., 8vo, Dublin, 1795. This is in blank verse, and with good engravings ; it has also an index, and all the passages of Scripture given at length ; not only those that are directly referred to, but also a number of others which might have sug- gested ideas to the author that he embodied in his work. The notes are well written, and short. They were reprinted, without acknowledgment, in an edition of the 'Pilgrim,' in three parts, pub- lished by Macgowan; London, 1822. 6 Page 60. 6 A perfect copy in the library of W. B. Gurney, Esq.; and another in the library of Lord Ashbnrnham. Mr. Pickering has one without the translator's name : this is merely a new title, probably to make the rhyme pass as Bunyan's. It is referred to by Mr. Southey in his Lfe of Bunyan, p. xcvii. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 63 George Burder, the well-known author of the Village Sermons, published, in 1804, Banyan's • Pilgrim's Progress, ' Part the First, versified, winch passed through several Urge editions, am! was tQUOh used in Sunday-school.- ; it has VfOod- cuts. A very handsome edition of this has been lately published, With the Second 1 'ait , hy the au- thor of Seriptun Truths vn Versa, and is profusely ornamented with woodcuts. T. Dibdin also pub- lished Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress,' metrically condensed, in six cantos. This embraces only'the First Part. The author claims having kept the simplicity of the original, and a rigid observance of every doctrine enforcing the certainty of the one only road to safety and salvation.1 The late Isaac Taylor, of Ongar, published Bunynn Ex- plained to a Child, being pictures and Poems founded upon the 'Pilgrim's Progress;' two very neat and interesting little volumes, each containing fifty cuts.2 Dr. Adam Clarke considered that our Pilgrim might he more read hy a certain class if published as an epic poem. ' The whole body of the dialogue and description might be preserved perfect and entire ; and the task would not be diffi- cult, as the work has the complete form of an epic poem, the versification alone excepted. But a poet, and a poet only, can do this work, and such a poet, too, as is experimentally acquainted with the work of God on his own soul. I subscribe to the opinion of Mr. Addison, that, had J. Bunyan lived in the time of the primitive fathers, lie would have been as great a father as any of them.'3 A lady who wrote under the initials, C. C. V. G., has recently made the attempt, and she does not appear to have heen aware that Dr. Dodd had gone over the same ground. It is a highly respect- able production, divided into six cantos, but in- cludes only the First Part. The Pilgrim's Progress Versified. By the Rev. W. E. Hume, B.A. 2 vols. fcp. 8vo. 1844-5. In this poetic attempt, each part is divided into six cantos. At the first glance, it appeared more like a parody than a seri- ous effort to convey the sense ; but the author seems to be in earnest. A very few lines will show the poetic talent which is displayed. The pilgrim about to start : ' Trembling he was, and tears I well could track, Till broke he forth, and cried, " AYhat shall I do, alack ! " > On Ignorance arriving at the gates of the Celestial City, 1 They told the Kiug, but down he would not run. The first part ends thus : ' The way to hell, from gate of heaven, was there, E'en as from Ruin's town. I woke — had dream'd, declare.' Post 8vo, Harding and King, 1834. Post 8vo, London, 1835. Postscript to a Life of Bunyan, 1S44. .1 /■'■, i Poetic Version of the First Part of the P>'~ grim's Progress. In Ten Books. By J. B. Drayton. With a Memoir, and Notes selected and abridged from the Rev. T, Scott. L2mO, Cheltenham. No date. This first appeared under the title ef Paetie Bunyan, fcp, 8vo, 1821. 'To tempi those who alighl the original as a coarse and illiterate production togweil a perusal, and they will Sad thai its merittare of the highest order— 'Con- ceived in the true spirit of poetry — like a rude but luxuriant wilderness.' The Christian's burden ia called ' a Bordid pi it. His description of the Interpreter will give an idea of Mr Drayton's style: ' Meek was his mean, Yet fiery keen, The ordeal inquest of hi* eve, And blent with hoary majesty, A stately wand lie bore ; But, ere he taught his mystic lore, He asked the Pilgrim's late abode, His errand, and his destined road.' When Christian met the men naming from the Valley of the Shadow of Death, his inquiry is anything but poetic — 'Hold! Whafathe Damagi Little interest has been excited by these endear Tours to versify the 'Pilgrim.' All the attempts to improve Bunyan are miserable failures ; it is like holding up a rushlight to increase the beauty of the moon when in its lull radiance. II is line- old vernacular colloquial English may be modern- ized and spoiled, but cannot be improved. The expression used to denote how hard the last lock in Doubting Castle 'went,' may grate upon a polite car, but it has a deep meaning that should warn us of entering by-path meadows. Bunyan's poetry, interspersed throughout the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' displays the perpetual bent of the writer's mind. No show, no attempt at parade, all his object is to fix truth upon the con- science; and some of his homely rhymes ought never to be forgotten. The impression made in childhood 'sticks like burs.' "Who that has once read the lay of the Shepherd's boy, will ever for- get the useful lesson ? ' He that is down need fear no fall, He that is low no pride ; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.' Mr. Burder of Coventry divided the 'Pilgrim"- Progress,' Part I. into twenty, and Part II. into fifteen chapters, with short notes at the end of each;4 it has been several times republished; but this innovation was not well received. Numerous have heen the editions with nol illustrate the author's meaning, hy men oi eminence; but Montgomery's beautiful description at once shows that, doctrinally or experimentally considered, they are not needed. ' Bunyan's alio. 4 Brit. JIus. 113, b.; Editor's library. C4 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. gory is so perfect, that, like the light, whilst re- vealing through its colourless and undistorting medium every ohject, yet is. itself concealed.' A Key to the Pilgrim's Progress; designed to assist the admirers of that excellent book to read it with understanding and profit, as well as pleasing entertainment. By Andronicus. This contains some useful information ; it passed through two editions in 1797. A Course of Lectures Illustrative of the Pilgrim's Progress, delivered at the Tabernacle, Haver- ford West, By Daniel Warr. 8vo, 1825. These lectures, twenty in number, embrace only the First Part. They proved acceptable to those who heard them, and were published by subscription. Nine hundred and twenty- eight copies were subscribed for at 8*. each. Lectures on the Pilgrim s Progress, and on the Life and Times of Bunyan. By Rev. George B. Cheever, D.D., of New York. This is the work of one of Bunyan's kindred spirits. If there was any foundation for the Chinese theory of the transmigration of souls, one might imagine that Bunyan had been again permitted to visit the church on earth, in the person of Dr. Cheever. The numerous editions of these lectures which have been sold on both sides of the Atlantic has proved how acceptable a work it is ; to give its beauties would be to copy the whole ; they that have read it will read it again and again with renewed pleasure. They who have not read it may safely anticipate a choice literary treat. Attempts to explain the spiritual meaning of such a writer have sometimes deserved the reproof contained in the following anecdote: — 'A late eminent and venerated clergyman,1 published an edition of Bunyan's Pilgrim,2 which he accom- panied with expository notes. A copy of this work he benevolently presented to one of his poor parishioners. Some time afterwards the poor man was met by the clergyman, who inquired, " Well, have you read the Pilgrim's Progress?" the re- ply was, "Yes, sir." It was further asked, " Do you think you understand it?" "0, yes, sir," was the answer, with this somewhat unexpected addition, "And 1 hope before long I shall under- stand the notes !" '3 Still there can be no doubt hut that notes from other of Bunyan's treatises, and from eminent authors, must be highly illus- trative and interesting. 1 Thomas Scott, author of the Commentary on the Bible, and other valuable works. Sir James Stephen, in his Ecclesi- astical Biography, says of Thomas Scott — ' He died neglected, if not despised, by the hierarchy of the Church of England ; although in him she lost a teacher, weighed against whom the most reverend, right reverend, very reverend, and venerable personages, if all thrown together into the opposing scale, would at once have kicked the beam.' — Vol. ii. p. 123. 3 12mo, with Plates. Coventry, 17'J7. ■s Pritchard's Life of Ivimey, p. 139. The • Pilgrim's Progress ' has also been abridged. One of the early publications of the Tract Society was the 'Pilgrim's Progress, Part the First,' divided upon Mr. Burder's plan, into twenty chapters. It is in eight Parts, at \\d. each, with a recommendation that the children should find the texts referred to, and repeat them when con- venient ; it has a woodcut to each Part. An Extract of the Pilgrim's Progress, Two Parts, divided into chapters, 12mo, Dublin. For the Methodist Book-room, 1810. Price 3s. 3d. This contains nearly the whole ; Giants Pagan and Pope are excluded, so also are the fiend's whispering evil thoughts into the Pilgrim's ears. Christiana speaks of her old husband in- stead of her good husband. The narrative is injured by the omissions and alterations. The Pilgrim 's Progress. By John Bunyan; abridged for the use of schools. By J. Townsend. With a Sketch of the Author's Life. This little book was extensively circulated, especially in Sunday Schools. Tiie Pilgrim s Progress. By John Bunyan. A miniature abridgment, with cuts, title printed in gold on a blue-glazed paper, the edges gilt, has been lately selling in the streets of London for \d. each ! A strange attempt was made by Joshua Gilpin, rector of Wrockwardine, Shropshire, in 1811, to fit Bunyan with a modern and fashionable suit of clothes, and under the tuition of a petit mailre, train him for elegant drawing-room company. How odd an idea to dress Bunyan a-la-mode, place him in an elegant party, chill him with ices, and torment his soul with the badinage of a Mrs. Per- kin's Ball. It was entitled, 'Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress ; in which the phraseology of the author is somewhat improved, some of his obscurities elucidated, and some of his redundancies done away.' A handsome 8vo volume, 1811. Mr. Gilpin complains that the Pilgrim's defects are conspicuous and offensive, but gives no specimens of them. Instead of Faithful telling Christian the common feeling against Pliable, in plain Eng- lish, ' 0, they say, Hang him, he is a turn-coat ; he was not true to his profession;' Mr. Gilpin prefers, ' They tauntingly say, that he was not true to his profession.' And as to the unfashion- ably pointed remarks by the Interpreter, that a Christian profession, without regeneration, is like a tree whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to be tinder for the devil's tinder- box* this is too bad to be mended, and is, there- fore, struck out altogether. The public did not encourage Mr. Gilpin's metamorphoses, and the book is forgotten. In the following year Mr. Gilpin published, anonymously, The Pilgrimage of Theo- philus to the City of God. It was intended for the * P. 245. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 65 instruction of his children. It is free from sectarian- ism and slander; being the adventures of two young Pilgrims, who become ministers. The whole of the plot is taken from Bun van; is a pious imitation, but, like many Others, it is even now forgotten. It would l>e impossible to enumerate all the at- tempts which have been made to copy Bunyan 's alle- gory. A few of them deserve notice. One of these was an impudent forgery. It was under the title of The Progress of the Pilgrim, in Two Parts. Written by way of a Dream. Adorned with several new pictures, ho.xh. io, I have used similitudes. Lon- don, by J. Blare, at the Looking Glass, on London Bridge, 1705. In this, which is published us an original work, Evangelist is called Good-news ; Worldly-wiseman, Mr. Politic Worldly , Legality, Mr. Law-do; The Interpreter, Director; The Palace Beautiful, Grace's Hall; Giant Desperation of Dillident Castle; Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid are called, One Much-cast-down, and his kinsman, Almost Overcome. Who- ever was employed in stealing this literary property, and dis- guising the stolen goods, appears to have been a Roman Catholic; he omits Giant Pope; and Faithful, called 1'idelius, ia hanged, drawn, and quartered, that being the punishment indicted on the Roman Catholics by Elizabeth and James I. Bugg's Pilgrim's Progress from Quakerism to Christianity. 4to, and 8vo, 1698. The author had been a Quaker, but conformed, and attacked his old friends with great vituperation. It is not allegorical. Desiderius ; or, the Original Pilgrim. By L. Howell, M.A. This was written in Spanish, and has been published in Latin, Italian, trench, Dutch, and German. Mr. Howell says in the preface, ' I am assured that Mr. Royston, the bookseller, very well knew that Dr. Patrick took his pilgrim from it.' It is the mode by which a gentleman curbed his passions, and became a good church-going man, and qualified himself (p. 12-1) to trust iu God. It was not published in English until 1717. Tlie Young Mans Guide through Uie wilderness of j this world to the heavenly Canaan : showing him how to carry himself Christian-like, the whole course of his life. By Thomas Gouge. 1710; small 8vo. This is a valuable work, but not allegorical. Tlie Statesman's Progress, or a Pilgrimage to Great- ness ; delivered under the similitude of a dream, wherein are discovered, The manner of his setting out, his dangerous journey, and safe arrival at the desired country ; with the manner of his acting when he came there. By JOHN BOKYAJT. With a Latin quotation from Horace. London, printed, and Lublin reprinted in the year 1741. 8vo. This is a shrewd attack upon Sir Robert Walpole, one of I the most corrupt of English statesmen, just before his final full. It was he that said ' every man had his price,' and who VOL. III. attacked Mr. Pitt, afterwarda Earl of Chatham, on bis youth; exciting a reply which must be admired to the latest age. This Pilgrimage represents Walpole under the name of Bad- man, on his course to Greatness Ball, where grew the golden pippins. lie is introduced to (Jueen Vice, behind whose throne stood Death with ropes, axes, and daggers in bis hand. Badman attains his object, lias pOBSeSSiOD Oi the golden t'rnit, and by its aid exercises absolute sway. The allegory is kept up with great spirit. Our readers need not he reminded that Bun- yan's name was used because he was the prince of allegorists, in the same way that Homer's name would have heen used if it had been a poem, or Juvenal, had it heen a satire in verse. It is of great rarity ; the account is taken from a copy iu the Editor's library. The celebrity of Bunyan led to another impudent forgery, in a pamphlet entitled, The advantages and disadvantages of the Marriage State, as entered into with religious or irreligious jwrsons, delivered under the similitude of a dbbam. With notes ex- planatory and improving. By J. B * * * * N, Minister of the Gospel. The sixth edition, with addition of new cuts. Bosworth; Printed by Robert Grinley, for the author, 1775. The fronti- spiece is the Sleeping Portrait on the Lion's Den, with skull and cross bones ; above arc the Pilgrim with his burden, and the Wicket Gate; under this is inscribed John Bunyan of Bedford. It was impudent enough to publish this for the author in 1775, Bunyan having died in 1688. Tlie Spanish Pilgrim; or an admirable discovery of a Romish Catholic.1 A tract to show the easiest way to invade Spain. lite Pilgrim; or, a Picture of Life. By a Chinese Philosopher, 2 vols, by Johnston. - A caricature, exhibiting English manners, iu the reign of George III., through a distorted medium. The New Pilgrims; or, the Pious Indian Convert, containing a faithful account of Flattain Gela- shenin, a heathen who was baptized into the Christian Faith by the name of George James, and by that means brought from the darkness of Paganism to the light of the Gospel, of which he afterwards became an able and worthy minister; and the wonderful things which he saw in a vision. London, 12mo, 1748. A Voyage through Hell, by Uce I urinal ,1c Man of War, Captain Singh-Eye. 8vo, 1770. This is a very curious allegory ; part of the crew demur to signing the articles because they are Unitarian. The mob who see the ship sail, abuse the Captain. After many adventures, she arrives iu hell, and the crew and officers arc tried ; all the Unitarians are acquitted, and sail on to heaven, but ull the 1 British Museum, 1103, e. I ibrary, British Museum, 245, f. 7. 56 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Trinitarians enter into eternal torment. This volume is very rare. It is the only book that I have seen iu which Unitarians avow such diabolical sentiments. Shrubsole's Christian Memoirs ; or, New Pilgrimage to the Heavenly Jerusalem. 1 777 ; republished 1799, and in 1807. This was supposed to contain allusions to certain persons of some note, and was for a time a popular book. The Female Pilgrim ; or the travels of Hephzibah, a description of her Native Country, with the State of the Inhabitants thereof. By John Mitchell. This contains some account of the religious state of this country in the latter end of the reign of George III. ; it has plates, and passed through several editions. The author states, that he has not been influenced by malice to those persons whose characters he has drawn as odious ! A second Pilgrim s Progress from the town of Deceit to the kingdom of Glory. By Philalethes. 8vo, 1790. This is an allegory, but not a dream. It is the adventures of "Wake-heart, who gets to glory. The Progress of the Pilgrim, Good Intent, in Jacob- inical Times. By Miss Anne Burgess, of tbe Vale of Honiton. This was, for a time, very popular, and went through as many as seven editions at least, in the years 1800 and 1801 ; it arose out of the French Revolution, and was intended to counteract republican principles, and free inquiries into prac- tices called religious. It has some witty passages, and a tender attachment to the crown and mitre. It represents philosophy as having for its father Lucifer; and its mother Nonsense ! ' That the mitre assumes no control. Lawful government and church establishments are venerable, and to be admired and supported ; that the rights of man teach plunder and robbery ; that those who oppose the church, as by law established, seek to promote atheism. The authoress invents a she-devil, called Mental Energy, who invites men to destruction, by thinking for themselves. It must have required the aid of some church wealth and influence to have pushed this book iuto circulation ; it is now nearly forgotten.2 The Sailor Pilgrim; in Two Parts. By R. Hawker, D.D. 1806. This passed through several editions, and was a valuable means of awakening seafaring men to the importance of reli- gion. It abounds with interesting anecdotes. Zions Pilgrim. 1808. This, and Zion's Warrior, by the same author, arc full of anecdotes, useful in their day. They are not allegorical. 77ie Travels of Humanias in search of the Temple of Happiness. An allegory. By William Lucas. 12mo, 1809. 1 Page 63. 2 In the Editor's Library. Seventh Edition, 1801. First Edition, 1800, and The Prodigal's Pilgrimage into afar Country, and back to his Father's House ; in fourteen stages. By Thomas Jones, Curate of Creaton. 1825. This is the adventures and return of the prodigal, founded on the parable in Lu. xv., but is not allegorical.3 The Sojourn of a Sceptic in the Land of Darkness, to the City of Strongholds, in the Similitude of a .Dream. Edinburgh, 1847. The prose and poetry in this volume are equally contemptible t ' Who follow lies they love (that walk or crawl), A lie, at last, to ruin may pursue ; Who swallow greasy camels, hump and all, A gnat may scandalize, and strangle too.' 4 This is one of those books which, in the words of Porson,' will be read when Homer and Virgil are forgotten, but — not till then.' The Great Journey, a Pilgrimage through tlie Valley of Tears to Mount Zion, the City oftlie living God. This is an unassuming little book, which the author calls, a borrowed ray from the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' It is neatly ornamented with cuts. A desirable present to the young. The most beautiful ray from the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' which has reached us, is from the pen of that elegant writer, Dr. Cheever of New York. It is Tlie Hill Difficulty, or Tlie Jewish Pilgrim's Pro- gress, The Plains of Ease, and other allegories. It has, in addition, some extremely interesting papers. Unfortunately it has not been reprinted in England, but what is worse is, that parts of the volume leaving out the most beautiful, and selecting those tbat suited a certain purpose, have been printed under the title of Dr. Cheever's Hill Difficulty — a forgery exceedingly vexatious to an author of such high repute. It is hoped that some honest pub- lisher will favour us with an accurate and cheap re- print of this instructive allegory. A part left out in the first chapter of the London edition refers to a controversy which has for some time agitated this country, even to the calling forth of a decision in tbe House of Lords. It is an attempt to get over the Hill Difficulty without trouble ; it is thus narrated : ' There has been constructed there a great balloon, to avoid climbing, named Baptismal Regeneration, in which, by an ingenious chemical use of a little font of water, a very subtle light gas was manufactured to fill the balloon ; and then the adventurers, having been made to inhale the same gas, stepped iuto a car to which the balloon was attached, and were carried along quite swiftly. These adventurers all lost their lives in the end, unless they got out of the car, and took to the real pilgrimage. Still tlie pateutees insisted upon this being the only way to salvation.' He goes on with great humour to show that the Pope was the original patentee. CHAPTER VIII. THE OPINIONS OF THE GREAT AND LEARNED, UPON THE MERITS OF THE ' PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,' AND THE CAUSES OF ITS POPULARITY. To venerate the memory of Bunyan, is the duty of every British Christian ; quite as much as it is British Museum. 4 Page 113. INTRODUCTION BV TDK EDITOR. 67 the pride of Englishmen universally to admire the genius of Shakspeare or of .Milton, the philosophy of Locke, or the philanthropy of Howard, 11-' ought ever to be placed in that constellation which is composed of the brightest luminaries that shed a lustre upon our national literature. His allegory seizes our imagination in childhood, and leaves an indelible impression — it exeited our wonder then. and our admiration and esteem in riper age. Thus one of our hcst poets dcscrihes it as ' Pleasure derived in childhood approved in age.' There is a degree of publicity to which we should not like to have seen John Bunyan exposed, and from which his ' Pilgrim ' had a narrow escape. The amasing popularity of the 'Pilgrim's Progress' very nearly led to the accomplishment of a strange design, which would have shocked all our puritan feelings. It was a curious attempt of Air. Gilpin to dress Bunyan a-Ja-mode, but how much more singular to have introduced him upon the stage in a Royal Metropolitan Theatre ! ! This was most seriously contemplated. -The whole story was turned into an Oratorio, and every preliminary arrangement was made to have brought it out in Lent 183-1. The manuscript oratorio, with the correspond- ence of George Colman the licenser, Mr. Bunn the Manager and Proprietor, and Mr. Mash of the Lord Chamberlain's Office, are in the Editor's possession. But the fear of my Lord Bishop of London, whose power could have stopped the license, prevented the attempt to bring into the tainted atmosphere of a theatre, as a dramatic entertainment, the poor burdened pilgrim, his penitence, his spiritual com- bats, bis journey, and his ascent to the Celestial City. It was to have been introduced with splendid scenery, and with all the fascinating accompani- ments of music and painting, as a sacred oratorio, to amuse Christians in the sorrowful, fasting, hypo- critical season of Lent. Cowper's apostrophe to Bunyan — ' Oh thou, whom, home on fancy's eager wing Back to the season of life '3 happy spring, I pleased remember, and, while memory yet Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget. Ingenious Dreamer! in whose well-told tale Swi it fiction and sweet truth alike prevail ; Whose humorous vein, strong sense, and simple style, ilay teach the gayest, make the gravest smile ; A\ ltty, and well employed, and like thy Lord, Speaking in parables bis slighted Word. I name thee not, lest so despised a name Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame. Yet e'en in transitory life's late day, That mingles all my brown with sober gray, Revere the man, whose Pii.ouim marks the road, And guides the PROGRESS of the soul to God. 'Twcre well with most, if books that could ei Their childhood, pleased them at a riper age ; The man, approving what had charmed the boy, A\ oidd die at last in comfort, peace, and joy.' How rapid has been the change in public opinion since Cowper's line was written — 'Leal bo despised a name !' One of the most magnificent American steamers now bears the alluring name of The John Bunyan ; and in 1849 an advertisement appeared in tho London Papers: ' for Bong Kong and Shanghae, will be despatched positively on the 20th of June, the splendid fast sailing-ship John Bunyan.1 The influence that the 'Pilgrim's Progress' bad upon a late learned and zealous divine, is well described in the autobiography of the celebrated Dn. Adam Clarke, A child's view of the ' Pilgrim's Progress' — At this early age he read the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' as be would read a book of chivalry. Christian was a great hero, by whom the most appalling difficulties were surmounted, the most incredible labours performed, powerful enchantments dissolved, giants conquered, and devils quelled. It waa not likely that he would see it as a spiritual allegory, and, there. fore, it was no wonder that he could not comprehend how Christian and Hopeful could submit to live several days and nights in the dungeon of Doubting Castle, under t lie torture of Giant Despair, while the former ' had a key in his bosom which could open every lock in that castle.' Lord Kaimes, who did not in the slightest degree partake with Bunyan in his feelings of veneration for Christianity, admires the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' as being composed in a style enlivened like that of Homer, by a proper mixture of the dramatic and narrative. Mr. Grainger, who was of the high church party, in his Biographical History of England, calls it ' Bunyan 's masterpiece; one of the most popular, and, I will add, one of the most ingenious books in in the English language.' Dr. S. Johnson, that unwieldy and uncouth leviathan of English literature, who was so thorough bred a churchman as to starve himself on a crossed bun on Good Friday, and to revel in roast beef and good cheer on the day dedicated to Christ's mass; who was so well taught in the established church as to pray for his wife * Tetty' thirty years after her decease; yet, even he, with his deep-rooted prejudices against dissenters, cannot withhold his meed of praise — he describes the 'Pilgrim's I'm. gress ' as 'a work of original genius, and one of the very few books which every reader wishes had been longer.'1 'Johnson praised John Bunyan highly : his "Pilgrim's Pro- gress" has great merit, both for invention, imagination, and the conduct of the story ; and it has had the best evidence of its merit, the general and continued approbation of mankind. Pew books, I believe, have had a more extensive sale. It is remarkable, that it begins very much like Dante; yet there was no translation of Dante when he wrote. There ia to think that he had read Spenser.' "' 1 .Mrs. Piozzi a Anecdotes. - Boswell'a Life of Johnson, Svo, vol. ii. p. 219. 68 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ' It was by no common merit that the illiterate sectary ex- tracted praise like this from the most pedantic of critics, and the most bigoted of Churchmen and Tories.' * A deeply read, learned, and highly esteemed clergyman told me that when he was young, placed under peculiar circumstances,2 he read the ' Pil- grim's Progress ' many times ; for when he arrived at the ' Conclusion,' he never thought of changing his book, hut turning to the first page, started again with poor Christian, and never felt weary of his company. Well might Dr. Johnson say, it is one of the few hooks in which one can never possibly arrive at the last page. Dr. Franklin, whose sound judgment renders his opinion peculiarly gratifying, in his praise of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' comes home to the feelings of all who have read this universally admired book : ' Honest John Bunyan is the first I know of who has mingled narrative aud dialogue together — a mode of writing very en- gaging to the reader, who, in the most interesting passages, finds himself admitted, as it were, into the company, aud pre- sent at the conversation.' 3 Toplady speaks with the warmth of a Christian, •who not only admired, but understood and felt its important truths: ' The " Pilgrim's Progress" is the finest allegorical work extant ; describing every stage of a Christian's experience, from conversion to glorification, iu the most artless simplicity of language; yet peculiarly rich with spiritual unction, and glowing with the most vivid, just, and well-conducted ma- chinery throughout. It is, in short, a masterpiece of piety and genius ; and will, we doubt not, be of standing use to the people of God, so long as the sun and moon endure.' And in his diary, Sunday, Feb. 7, 17G8: — ' Iu the evening, read Bunyan's " Pilgrim." What a stiff, sapless, tedious piece of work is that written by Bishop Pat- rick ! How does the unlearned tinker of Bedford outshine the Bishop of Ely ! I have heard that his lordship wrote his Pil- grim by way of autidote against what he deemed the fanati- cism of John Bunyan's " Pilgrim." But what a rich fund of heavenly experience, life, and sweetness, does the latter con- tain ! How heavy, lifeless, and unevangelical, is the former ! Such is the difference between writing from a worldly spirit and under the influence of the Spirit of God.' 4 Dr. Ryland's opinion was that 'Asa popular practical writer, on a great variety of import- ant subjects, for the use of the bulk of common Christians, I will dare to affirm that he has few equals in the Christian world. I am persuaded there never has been a writer in the English language whose works have spread so wide, and have been read by so many millions of people, as Mr. Bunyan's.' 1 Macaulay, Edinburgh Review, 1831. 2 At church, obliged to sit still, while a dull parson read equally dull sermons. 3 Private Life of Franklin. 4 Life and Writings of Toplady. Works, vol. i. p. 40. 8vo, 1825. It may be true that Patrick's Pilgrim was intended as an antidote to what he considered the fanaticism of Bun- yan's other writings, but the Bishop's Pilgrim was published prior to that of John Bunyan. The Great French Biography (Roman Catholic), having alluded to his employment in prison, adds. ' Mais il y ecrivit aussi son fameux Voyage du Pelerin, alle- gorie religieuse parfaitement soutenue, qui a eu cinquantc editions, et a ete traduite en plusieurs langues.' 5 James Montgomery: — ' It has been the lot of John Bunyan, an unlettered artisan, to d,o more than one in a hundred millions of human beings, even in civilized society, is usually able to do. He has pro- duced a work of imagination, of such decided originality, as not only to have commanded public admiration on its first appear- ance, but amidst all changes of time and style, and modes of thinking, to have maintained its place in the popular literature of every succeeding age ; with the probability that, so long as the language in which it is written endures, it will not cease to be read by a great number of the youth of all future genera- tions, at that period of life when their minds, their imagina- tions, and their hearts are most impressible with moral excel- lence, splendid picture, and religious sentiment. The happy idea of representing his story under the similitude of a dream, enabled him to portray, with all the liveliness of reality, the scenes which passed before him. It makes the reader himself, like the author, a spectator of all that occurs; thus giving him a personal interest in the events, an individual sympathy for the actors and sufferers. It would be difficult to name another work of any kind in our native tongue of which so many edi- tions have been printed, of which so many readers have lived atid died ; the character of whose lives and deaths must have been more or less affected by its lessons and examples, its fictions and realities.' Dr. Cheever: — ' Perhaps no other work could be named which, admired by cultivated minds, has had, at the same time, such an amelior- ating effect on the working classes in society as the "Pilgrim's Progress." It is a work so full of native good sense, that no mind can read it without gaining iu wisdom and vigour of judgment. It is one of the books that, by being connected with the dearest associations of childhood, always retain their hold on the heart ; and it exerts a double influence when, at a graver age, and less under the despotism given to imagina- tion in childhood, we read it with a serene and thoughtful perception of its meaning. How many children have become better citizens of the world through life, by the perusal of this book in infancy ! How many pilgrims, in hours when perse- verance was almost exhausted, and patience was yielding, and clouds and darkness were gathering, have felt a sudden return of animation and courage from the remembrance of Christian's severe conflicts, aud his glorious entrance at last through the gates into the city ! ' Robert Southey: — ' Bunyan's fame may be literally said to have risen ; begin- ning among the people, it made its way up to those who are called the public. In most instances, the many receive gradually and slowly the opinions of the few respecting literary merit ; aud sometimes, in assentation to such authority, pro- fess with their lips an admiration of they know not what. But here the opinion of the multitude has been ratified by the judi- cious. The people knew what they admired. It is a book which makes it way through the fancy to the understanding and the heart. The child peruses it with wonder and delight ; in youth we discover the genius which it displays ; its worth is apprehended as we advance in years ; and we perceive its 8vo. Paris, 1810, torn. iii. p. -112. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. C'J merits Coding!; in declining age. If it is not a well of Eng- I liafa ondeGled, to which the poet as well aa the philologist must repair, if they would drink of the living waters, it is a clear j stream of current English — the vernacular speech of his age — ; sometimes, indeed, in its rusticity and coarseness, but always in its plainness and its strength.' Coleridge the Poet: — 'The " Pilgrim's Progress" is composed in the lowest style of English, without slang or false grammar. If you were to polish it, yon would at once destroy the reality of the vision. 'This wonderful wori is one of the very few books which may be read over repeatedly at different times, and each time with a new and different pleasure. I rend it once a< a theolo- gian, and let me assure you, that there is great theological acumen in the work; once with devotional feelings; and once as a poet ; 1 could not have believed beforehand that Calvinism could be painted in such exquisitely-delightful colours. ' I know of no book, the Bible excepted, as above all com- parison, which I, according to my judgment and experience, could so safely recommend, as teaching and enforcing the whole saving truth according to the mind that was in Christ Jesus, as the " Pilgrim's Progress." It is, in my conviction, incomparably the best sumrna theologia evangelicce ever pro- duced by a writer not miraculously inspired.' — (May and June, 1830. Table Talk, vol. i. pp. 160, 1G1.) Dr. Arnold of Rugby: — ' I have left off rending our diviues, because, as Pascal said of the Jesuits, if I had spent my time in reading them fully, 1 should have read a great many indifferent books. But if I could find a great man among them, I would read him thank- fully and earnestly. As it is, I hold John Banyan to have been a man of incomparably greater genius than auy of them, and to have given a far truer and more edifying picture of Christianity. His " Pilgrim's Progress" seems to be a com- plete reflection of Scripture, with noue of the rubbish of the theologians mixed up with it.' — {Dr. Arnold to Justice Cole- ridge, Nov. 30, 1836. Life, vol. ii. p. 65.) And, 'I have always been struck by its piety; I am now (having read it through again, after a long interval) struck etpially, or even more, by its profound wisdom.' — Ibid. vol. ii. p. 65. Mr. Macaulay, from his Review of Souther's Life of Bunyan: — ' The characteristic peculiarity of the " Pilgrim's Progress " is, that it is the only work of its kind which possesses a strong human interest. Other allegories only amuse the fancy. It is not so with the " Pilgrim's Progress." That wonderful book, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it. In the wildest parts of Scotland, it is the delight of the pea- santry. In every nursery, the "Pilgrim's Progress" is a greater favourite than Jack the Giant-killer. ' Every reader knows the straight and narrow path as well as he knows a road in which he has gone backward and for- ward a hundred times. This is the highest miracle of genius — that things which are not should be as though they were — that the imaginations of one mind should become the personal recollections of another. And this miracle the tinker has wrought. There is no ascent, no declivity, no resting-place, no turn-stile, with which we are not perfectly acquainted. The wicket-gate, and the desolate swamp which separates it from the City of Destruction — the long line of road, as straight as a rule can make it— the Interpreter's house, and all its fair shows — the prisoner iu the iron cage — the palace, at the doors of which armed men kept guard, and on the battlements of which walked persons clothed all in gold — the cross and tin; sepulchre — the steep hill and the pleasant arbour — the stately front of the House Beautiful by the wayside — the low green Valley of Humiliation, rich with grass and covered with flocks — are all as well known to us as the sights of our own street. Then we come to the narrow place, where Apollyon strode right across the whole breadth of the way, to stop the journey of Christian ; and where, afterwards, the pillar was set up, to testify how bravely the Pilgrim had fought the good light. As we advauce, the valley becomes deeper and deeper. The shade of the precipices on both sides falls blacker and blacker. The clouds gather over-head. Doleful voices, the clanking of chains, and the rushing of many feet to and fro, are heard through the darkness. The way hardly discernible in gloom, and close by the mouth of the burning pit, which sends forth its flames, its noisome smoke, and its hideous shapes, to terrify the adven- turer. Thence he goes on, amidst the snares and pitfalls, with the mangled bodies of those who have perished lying in the ditch by his side. At the end of the long dark valley, he passes the dens in which the old giants dwelt, amidst the bones and ashes of those whom they had slain. Then the road passes straight on through a waste moor, till at length the towers of a distant city appear before the traveller ; and soon he is in the midst of the innumerable multitudes of Vanity Fair. There are the jugglers and the apes, the shops and the puppet-shows. There are Italian Row, and French Row, and Spanish Row, and Britain Row — with their crowds of buyers, sellers, and loungers, jabbering all the languages of the earth. Thence we go on by the little hill of the silver mine, and through the meadow of lilies, along the bank of that pleasant river, which is bordered on both sides by fruit-trees. On the left side, branches off the path to that horrible castle, the court-yard of which is paved with the skulls of pilgrims ; and right onward are the sheeplblds and orchards of the Delectable Mountains. From the Delectable Mountains the way lies through the fogs and briers of the Enchanted Ground, with here and there a bed of soft cushions spread under a green arbour. And beyond is the land of Beulah ; where the flowers, the grapes, and the songs of birds never cease, and where the sun shines night and day. Thence are plainly seen the golden pavements and streets of pearls, on the other side of that black and cold river over which there is no bridge. 'All the stages of the jouruey — all the forms which cross or overtake the pilgrims — the giants and hobgoblins, ill- favoured ones and shining ones — the tall, comely, swarthy Madam Bubble, with her great purse by her side, and her fingers playing with the money — the black man in the bright vesture — Mr. YVorldly-wiseman and my Lord Hate-good — Mr. Talkative and Mrs. Timorous — all are actually existing beings to us. We follow the travellers through their allegorical pro- gress, with interest not inferior to that with which we follow Elizabeth from Siberia to Moscow, or Jeanie Deans from Edin- burgh to London. Bunyan is almost the oidy writer that ever gave to the abstract the interest of the concrete. Reli- gion has scarcely ever worn a form so calin and soothing as in his allegory. The feeling which predominates through the whole book is a feeling of tenderness for weak, timid, and harassed minds. The character of Mr. Fearing — of Mr. Feeble-mind — of Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Mitt Much-afraid — the account of poor Little-faith, who was robbed by the three thieves of his spending money— the description of Christian's terror in the dungeons of Giant Despair, and in his passage through the river— all clearly show how strong a sympathy Bunyan felt, after his own mind had become clear and cheerful, for persons afflicted with religious melancholy. 70 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 1 The style of Bunyan is delightful to every reader ; and invaluable as a study to every person who wishes to obtain a wide command over the English language. The vocabulary is the vocabulary of the common people. There is not an expression, if we except a few technical terms of theology, which would puzzle the rudest peasant. We have observed several pages which do not contain a single word of more than two syllables. Yet no writer has said more exactly what he meant to say. For magnificence, for pathos, for vehement exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the divine, this homely dialect — the dia- lect of plain working men — was perfectly sufficient. There is no book in our literature on which we would so readily stake the fame of the old, unpolluted English language ; no book which shows so well how rich that language is in its own proper wealth, and how little it has been improved by all that it has borrowed. Though there were many clever men in England during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were only two great creative minds ; one of those minds produced the Paradise Lost, the other the " Pilgrim's Progress." 'There are, we think, some characters and scenes in the " Pilgrim's Progress," which can be fully comprehended and enjoyed only by persons familiar with the history of the times through which Bunyan lived. The character of Mr. Great- heart, the guide, is an example. "We have not the least doubt that Bunyau had in view some stout old Greatheart of Naseby and Worcester ; who prayed with his men before he drilled them ; who knew the spiritual state of every dragoon in his troop ; and who, with the praises of God in his mouth, and a two-edged sword in his hand, had turned to flight, in many fields of battle, the swearing druuken bravoes of Rupert and Lunsford. Every age produces such men as Bye-ends — he might have found all his kindred among the public men of that time; among the Peers— my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, and Lord Fair-speech. In the House of Com- mons— Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Anything, and Mr. Facing- both-ways ; nor would the parson of the parish, Mr. Two- tougues, have been wanting.' Mr. Macadlay's character of John Bunyan, from his invaluable History of England: — 'To the names of Baxter and Howe must be added the uame of a man far below them in station and in acquired knowledge, but in virtue their equal, and in genius their superior, John Bunyan. Bunyan had been bred a tinker, and had served as a private soldier. Early in life he had been fearfully tor- tured by remorse for his youthful sins, the worst of which seem, however, to have been such as the world thinks venial. His keen sensibility, and his powerful imagination, made his internal conflicts singularly terrible. At length the clouds broke. From the depths of despair, the penitent passed to a state of serene felicity. An irresistible impulse now urged him to impart to others the blessing of which he was himself pos- sessed. He joined the Baptists, and became a preacher and writer. His education had been that of a mechanic. He knew no language but the English as it was spoken by the common people. He had studied no great model of composition, with the exception — an important exception undoubtedly — of our noble translation of the Bible. His native force of genius, and his experimental knowledge of all the religious passions, from despair to ecstacy, amply supplied in him the want of learning. His rude oratory roused and melted hearers, who listened, without interest, to the laboured discourses of great logicians and Hebraists. His works are widely circulated among the humbler classes. One of them, the Pilgrim's Progress, was, in his own lifetime, translated into several foreign languages. It was, however, scarcely known to the lcarued and polite; and had been, during near a century, the delight of pious cottagers and artizaus, before it was publicly commended by any man of high literary emineuce. At length critics condescended to inquire where the secret of so wide and so durable a popularity lay. They were compelled to own that the ignorant multitude had judged more correctly than the learned, and that the despised little book was really a masterpiece. Bunyan, indeed, is as decidedly the first of allegorists, as Demosthenes is the first of orators, or Shakspeare the first of dramatists. Other allefgorists have shown great ingenuity, but no other allegorist has ever been able to touch the heart, and to make abstrac- tions objects of terror, of pity, and of love.' Lord Campbell. — It is one of the extraordinary signs of the times in which we live, to Avitness the highest judicial functionary in the kingdom speak- ing, without sectarian partiality, and in the high- est terms of praise, of a preaching mechanic. It is in Lord John Campbell's Life of Chief-Justice Hale, when the judges, before whom Mrs. Bunyan had so powerfully pleaded for her husband's liberty, were trumpeted out of Bedford, she burst into tears, saying, ' Not so much because they are so hard- hearted against me and my husband, but to think what a sad account such poor creatures will have to give at the coming of the Lord:' — ' Little do we know what is for our permanent good,' says Lord John Campbell. ' Had Bunyan then been discharged, and allowed to enjoy liberty, he no doubt would have returned to his trade, filling up his intervals of leisure with field- preaching ; his name would not have survived his own gene- ration, and he could have done little for the religious im- provement of mankind. The prison doors were shut upon him for twelve years. Being cut off from the external world, he communed with his own soul ; and inspired by Him who touched Elijah's hallowed lips with fire, he composed the noblest of allegories, the merit of which was first discovered by the lowly, but which is now lauded by the most refined critics ; and which has done more to awaken piety, and to enforce the precepts of Christian morality, than all the sermons which have been published by all the prelates of the Anglican church.'1 The Penny Encyclopedia is the only work which has treated the * Pilgrim's Progress ' with dis- respect. Under the article John Bunyan, it says : — ' Among his works, the " Pilgrim's Progress " has attained the greatest notoriety. If a judgment is to be formed of the merits of a book by the number of times it has been reprinted, and the many languages into which it has been translated, no production in English literature is superior to this coarse alle- gory. On a composition which has been extolled by Dr. Johnson, and which, in our own times, has received a very high critical opinion in its favour, it is hazardous to venture a disapproval; and we, perhaps, speak the opinion of a small minority when we confess that to us it appears to be mean, jejune, and wearisome.' Probably this is the glorious minority of one. Such an opinion may excite pity and indignation, but needs no comment. The ' Pilgrim's Progress * has proved an in- valuable aid to the Sunday-school Teacher, and to the Missionary. One of the latter wrote home with 1 Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chief Justices, vol. i. p. 561. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. joy to inform his Christian friends, that a Malay sat up three nights to read it, never having before seen so beautiful a book, and praying that the Holy Spirit may influence his countrymen to read, and also enlighten their hearts to understand the wondrous divum. The pundit who was engaged to translate it into Singhalese, was so deeply affected by the Btory, that, at times, he could not proceed ; when he had passed the wicket-gate, ami Christian's burden fell from his shoulders, at the sight of Christ crucified, he was overcome with joy — he laughed, wept, clapped his hands, danced, and shouted, 'delightful, delightful ! ' It was especially bleBsed to the persecuted Christian natives in Ceylon ; in their distress when driven from home, in places of danger, they encouraged each other by repeating portions of scripture, and the vivid deli- neations of perseverance and triumph from the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' No book, the result of human labour and in- genuity, has been so eminently useful. Let Homer have the credit of his lofty poem, Plato of his Philosophy, Cicero of his elegancies, and Aquinas of bis subtleties ; but for real value, as connected with human happiness, our unlettered mechanic rises infinitely their superior. CHAPTER IX. observations on the most prominent parts op the ' pilgrim's progress.' Before taking a walk with the pilgrims, to point out a few peculiarities not noticed by commenta- tors, it may be well to answer the inquiry so often made — Is the narrative that of the author's and his wife's own experience? Sly humble opinion is that he did not so intend it. His first wife had been for years an inhabitant of the Celestial City, and his second was a decided Christian long he- fore his 'Pilgrim' was written. At the pillar to commemorate Lot's wife, Hopeful calls to Chris- tian, ' for be was learned,' — a title, so far as lettered lore was concerned, Bunyan could not have given to himself, nor would he have applied it as to his own spiritual knowledge. It appears not to be intended to portray the experience of any one man or woman, but the feelings, doubts, conflicts, and enjoyments of the Christian character. The whole household of faith embodied and described in the sacred pages, enlarged by his own experience, and that which he discovered in his Christian inter- course; from the first fearful cry, ' What shall I do to be saved?' until the crown of glory and im- mortality is put upon bis head with the anthem, ' It i3 finished,' ' Blessed arc the dead who die in the Lord.' Among some very singular discoveries made from the pages of this eminently non-sectarian I book, is, that it sanctions the old and curious cus- tom of christening infants. The mind capable of i making such a discovery, must he familiar with very Jesuitic and far-fetched arguments in defence ! of a custom which, Bunyan thought, set tbe Bible, and reason too, at defiance, and could only be defended by tradition, handed down to us by tho Papists from the dark and gloomy ages of Buper* stition. It is in an edition with notes by Mr. St. John, and a key by II. Wood.1 In the index there appears the following sentiments under the word — 'Baptism. — The ordinance of, to be observed, and the ad« vantage that children are thereby made partakers, who arc thllH early admitted into the visible church of Christ. Chris- tian's sons have been married, and their olive branches were springing op, when Christiana and her troop of children and grandchildren had passed the hill Lucre, and arrived at the green meadows. Here they find a house is built for the nourishing and bringing up those lambs, the babes of those women that go on pilgrimage.' The annotator seizes an opportunity from this parental anxiety to ' train up a child in the way he should go,' to introduce Bunyan as an authority for the christening of infants. But to return to our ' Pilgrim.' A charge has been made against the arrangement of the story, because the converts in the town of Vanity are not described as having entered the way by the wicket- gate. They witness the patient endurance of sufferings in Faithful, and are led to feel that there must be some solemn realities in religion to which they were strangers ; we have no account of their convictions nor misery ; their Slough of Despond, or entering the wicket-gate, or relief on the sight of Christ crucified, for all this has been already told in Christian's experience. The lovely inmates in the Palace Beautiful, descriptive of the temper which every member of a Christian church ought to cultivate, are left there as if they went no further towards Zion. Christian's journey does not appear to occupy the time taken to perform the same distance by Christiana. These, and many other apparent discrepancies, are essential to the author's design, because he represents it all under the similitude of a DreaM. The following quota- tions clearly indicate some changes of import- ance, interfering with Christian liberty between the writing of tho First Part in prison before 1673, and the publication of tho Second Part in 1684. When Christiana came to the Slough of Despond, ' She perceived also, that notwithstanding the command of the King, to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. Tor that many there he that pretend to be the Kind's labourers; and that say they at mending the King's highway, that bring dirt and dung instead Q of stones, and so mar instead of mending.' Before the pilgrims attempted to aaoend tbe Published by Rickerby, Sherborne Lane. 183S. 72 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hill Difficulty, tliey sought for some refreshment, and Great-heart said — * This is the spring that Christian drank of before he went up this hill ; and then 'twas clear and good ; but now 'tis dirty with the feet of some that were not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst.' The two lions in the way to frighten the young inquirer from making a public profession at the Palace Beautiful, may represent the civil and ec- clesiastical powers when assuming the throne of God, to judge and compel men as to forms of Divine worship. Their effort was to prevent fur- ther inquiries, and thus turn the pilgrims back to the City of Destruction ; they are chained, to show tbat these devils are under Divine control, and can only hurt such as they may devour. A cessation, or temporary relief from persecution, puts them to sleep as Faithful passes ; and a recollection of the misery and cruelties they had so recently perpe- trated, raises Giant Grim to back them, and terrify Christiana, Mercy, and the children. The effects . of this cruel persecution of the saints thinned the number of professors. ' Now, to say the truth, this way had of late lain much un- occupied, and was almost all grown over with grass.' Their fears are at that time dissipated by Great- heart the guide, who slays the Giant. While Christiana and her company rest at the town of Vanity, ' There came a monster out of the woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, aud teach them to suck its whelps. Now no man in the town durst so much as face this monster ; but all men tied when they heard the noise of his coming. This monster propounded conditions to men ; and such men as loved their lives more than their souls, accepted those conditions. So they came under.' From all this it is obvious, that between the time when Bunyan wrote the First Part, and the publication of the Second, some painful events had taken place, interfering with a Christian profession. Those iniquitous laws, called the Five Mile and the Conventicle Acts, were passed in the 16, 17, and 22 Charles II. ; the first of these imposed ruinous fines, imprisonment, and death, upon all persons above sixteen years of age, who attended Divine service where the Liturgy, the compulsive use of which had proved an awful curse and scourge to the kingdom, was not read. The second or- dained that no nonconformist minister should live within five miles of any town. Bunyan did inhabit aud live in Bedford by compulsion, but he was not proceeded against, although it would have been as ^ just as was the conduct of the Recorder of London ™ on the trial of Penn, for holding a conventicle ; for he ordered an officer of the court to put Penn's hat on his head, and then fined Penn for having it on! ! The third of these Acts was to suppress all meetings for worship among the nonconformists ; these were passed in 1665, 1666, and 1671, and in a short time made the frightful desolations to which we havo before referred; so that it appears as if the First Part was written before 1666 or 1667, when these abominable laws were enforced, and the Second Part after their effects had been seen and felt. That these horrid laws were obtained and put in force by the clergy, urged on by the bishops, we have melancholy proof. Even all publicans attending any conventicle, had their licenses taken from them.1 In the diocese of Salisbury, not one dis- senting meeting was left. On October 11, 1666, an order was issued, that iu Scotland all leases and rents should be void as to those who did not attend the parish church. Any person holding a conventicle was fined five thousand marks ; and at length the King ordered military execution in that kingdom upon all nonconformists, without process or conviction.2 The result of the severe sufferings of our Scottish forefathers in the faith, was the exemption of their posterity from the use of the detested book. The saints of those days comforted one another with a proverb : — ' It is better that the body should die to this world by the lions without, than that body and soul should die eternally by our lusts within.' Interference with the education of the children of dissenters was under the 14 Charles II., which enacts, 'That no person shall teach any children, whether in a private family or in a school, unless licensed by his diocesan, and all were to be taught according to the Book of Common Prayer,' or ruinous fines and imprisonments were enforced. Thus the Slough of Despond became more foul ; the spring of water became muddy ; the lions so thinned the number of pilgrims that the grass grew upon the road, and the monster was very rampant. He who feels no indignation when listening to such enormous crimes perpetrated by wicked laws, has the despi- cable spirit of a slave. Nothing but the voice of the Saviour commanding us to forgive his and our enemies, could prevent us leading our children to the altar of our God to swear eternal enmity against a system founded on tyranny, and producing as its effects all the abominations of desolation. There is great reason to suppose that the man in the iron cage, at the Interpreter's house, alludes to an apostate, one John Child. He had been a Bap- tist minister, and was born at Bedford in 1638. It may have been to him that Burroughs refers in his account of a disputation which he and some Quakers had in Bedford Church with John Bunion, and one Fen, and J. Child, Nov. 23, 1656. They, as Burroughs says, laid down, ' That very God and the everlasting Father died on the cross as man. See Harris's Life of Charles II Ibid. p. 120. p. 106, &c. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 78 That the Word that was in the beginning was crucified. That justification is without respect to obedience. Thai there is a light which con- vinceth of sin, besides the light of Christ. That there is no saving knowledge, hut comes from with- out from heaven.'1 John Child was then only eighteen years of age. and he appears to have been an intimate friend of Bunyan's, so that when his 'Vindication of Gospel Truths' was published, John Child united in a recommendatory preface— this was in 1657. From a dread of persecution be conformed to the Church of England, and he maybe the person referred to in Bunyan's ' Defence of Justification,' who said, 'If the devil should preach, I would bear him, before 1 would suffer pi rsecution ; as a brave fellow which 1 could name, in his rant, was pleased to declare.' This poor wretch afterwards became terrified with awful com- punctions of conscience, lie was visited by Mr. Keach, Mr. Collins, and a Mr. B. (probably Bun- yan.) When pressed to return to the fold of Christ, be said, ' If ever I am taken at a meeting, they will have no mercy on me, and triumph, This is the man that made his recantation ; and then ruin me to all intents and purposes, and I cannot bear the thought of a cross nor a prison. I had a fancy, the other morning, that tbe sheriff's officers were coming to seize all that I bad.' His cries were awful. ' i" shall go to hell; Iambrolcen in judgment: when I think to pray, either I have a ji ashing in my face, as if it were in a fame, or J am dumb and cannot speak.' In a tit of desperation he destroyed himself on the loth October 1GS4. This was one of the innumerable unholy triumphs of the state in its interference with religion.2 Christian's sleeping in tbe arbour, as well as the emblem of tbe muck-rake seen in the Inter- preter's house, is illustrated by Quarles in his Emblems — ' Well, sleep thy (ill, and take thy soft reposes ; But know, withal, sweet tastes have sour closes; And he repents in thorns, that sleeps in beds of roses.'3 And on an avaricious muck-rake — ' '1 he vulture of insatiate minds Still want-, am! wanting seeks, and seeking finds New fuel to increase her rav'nous tire.'4 The warning giving by Evangelist to the pil- grims, that persecution awaited them, might have been drawn from the affectionately faithful conduct of Mr. GifTord, Bunyan's pastor, in encouraging him to preach in tbe villages at the risk of impri- sonment, and even of death. The trial at Vanity Fair is an almost unconscious operation of quiet but keen satire upon the trials which took place at the time, sanctioned by all the 1 Burroughs's Worts, folio, p. 305. - Relation of the Life and Dtuth of John Child, 1731. 8 Book i.- — vii. 4 Book ii. — ii. formalities of law. ' they brought them forth to their trial in order to their condemnation.1 'The imaginary trial of Faithful, before a jury composed of personified vices, was just and merciful, when compared with the real trial of Lady Mice Lisle before that tribunal where all the vices sat in the person of Jefferies.'8 This is one of tbe most remarkable pa in tbo 'Pilgrim's Progress.' It is impossible to doubt that Bunyau intended to satirize the mode, in which state trials were conducted and) r Charles II. The license given to witnesses for the prosecution, tbe shameless partiality and ferocious insolence of the judge, tho precipitancy and the blind rancour of the jury, remind us of those odious mummeries which, from the Restoration to the Revolution, were merely forms preliminary to banging, drawing, and quartering. Lord Hate-good perforins the office of counsel for tho prisoners, as well as Scroggs himself could have performed it. No one who knows the state trials can be at a loss for parallel cases. Indeed, write what Bunyan would, tbe baseness and cruelty of tbe lawyers of those times 'sinned up to it still,' and even went beyond it. 'Judge. Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee? ' Faithful. May I speak a few words in my ow n defiance ? ' Judge. Sirrah, sirrah ! thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately upon the plaee ; yet, that all men may see our gentleness to thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to say.' Had Bunyan possessed lands, or wealth, to have excited tbe cupidity of tbe lawyers or informers, : be would not have escaped hanging for so faith- ful a picture of Judge Jefferies. Every dissenter should read tbe trial of William Penn and William Mead, which took place in August 1G70.6 They were indicted for preach- ing in Gracechurcb Street, the police and military ; having taken possession of the Friends' Meeting- house there. The jury refused to find Mead guilty, when the judge addressed them — ' Gentle- men, you shall not be dismissed till we have a verdict that the court will accept ; and you shall be locked up without meat, drink, tire, and tobacco. Yon shall not thus think to abuse the court; we will have a verdict, by the help of God, or you shall starve for it.' They requested an essential accommodation, but it was peremptorily denied. 1 hiving been locked up all night, on the following morning, when the court was opened, the jury again persisted in finding Mead not guilty; and the foreman said, ' We have agreed according to our consciences.' The Lord-mayor replied, 'That conscience of yours would cut my throat;' ho i Edinburgh Review, December 1831. c Male Trials; and ab-o published at the time, price 2d. lu 74 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. answered, 'No, my Lord, it never shall;' when the Lord-mayor said, ' But I will cut yours so soon as I can.' Again they were. locked up until the evening ; they then kept to their verdict, when the Lord-mayor threatened to cut the foreman's nose. Penn said, ' It is intolerable that my jury should be thus menaced,' when the Mayor cried out, ' Stop his mouth ; jailer, bring fetters, and stake him to the ground.' Penn replied calmly, 'Do your pleasure; I matter not your fetters:' and the recorder thus addressed the jury, ' I say you shall go together, and bring in another verdict, or you shall starve.' A second night they were locked up without food or accommodation. On the third morning these true-born Englishmen again brought in their verdict not guilty, and for this the jury were sent as prisoners to Newgate ! ! ! Their names were, Thomas Veer, Edward Bushell, John Ham- mond, Henry Henley, Henry Michel, John Bright- man, Charles Milson, Gregory Walklet, John Baily, William Lever, James Damask, and Wil Plumsted — names that ought to be printed in gold, and exhibited in the house of every nonconformist, and sculptured in marble to ornament our new House of Commons. The effects of persecution for re- fueling to obey man when he usurped the throne of God, hastened an approaching era. England shuddered ; dissenters increased ; and eventually the King saved his contemptible head by the quick- ness of his heels. Toleration succeeded persecu- tion, and it is now time that freedom should take the place of toleration, and the liberties of Englishmen be freed from the polluted touch of any hierarchy. The difference between the time when the First Part of the ' Pilgrim's Progress ' was written, and the Second printed, appears very strikingly in the state of the town of Vanity. ' In those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. TIten the name of a professor was odious, now, specially in some parts of our town, religion is counted honourable. ' The surprising difference between (lien and now can only be accounted for by the Declaration for liberty of conscience made in 1672, while the author was in prison, proving by strong circum- stantial evidence that the First Part was written before 1672, the Second having been written before 1684, and even then the nonconformist ministers were called ' kidnappers ; ' l and very soon after this, persecution again lifted up her accursed head. How keenly does Christian unravel the subtleties of By-ends and his company! Bunyan was aw- fully but justly severe against hypocrisy upon such as named the name of Christ, and did not depart from iniquity. In his ' Holy Life, the Beauty of Christianity,' he thus addresses such characters : 1 Marginal note to Second Part of the ' Pilgrim.' ' Christ calls them hypocrites, wbited walls, painted sepulchres, fools, and blind. This is the man that hath the breath of a dragon ; he poisons the air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friend, and himself ; that offends his little ones. Oh ! the millstone that God will shortly hang about your neck, when the time is come that you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath.' 2 When By-ends would have joined the Pilgrim's company, Christian was decided : ' Not a step further, unless you will own religion in his rags as well as when in his silver slippers, and stand by him, too, when bound in irons.' A writer in the Edinburgh Fteoiew3 very justly says — ' The town of Bedford probably contained more than one poli- tician, who, after contriving to raise an estate by seeking the Lord during the reign of the saints, contrived to keep what he had got by persecuting the saints during the reign of the strumpets.' Christian having admirably triumphed over these enemies and over Demas, becomes confident, and not only involves himself, but leads his companion into great trouble, by leaving the strait but rough road, and thus falling into the hands of a fearful ! giant. While in the dungeon, and suffering under awful doubts, Bunyan aptly introduces the subject of suicide. This dialogue upon self-murder, between Christian and Hopeful in Doubting Castle, might have been intended as an antidote to Dr. Donne's singular treatise to prove ' that self-homicide is not so naturally sin, that it may never be otherwise. ' So singular a thesis by a learned man and a digni- tary of the Church, must have made a deep im- pression upon the public. It was published by authority in 1044. In his preface, the learned Doctor says, ' Whether it be because I had my first breeding and conversation with men of a sup- pressed and afflicted religion, accustomed to the despite of death, or from other causes ; whensoever any affliction assails me, methinks I have the keys of llie prison in my own hand, and no remedy pre- sents itself so soon to my heart as mine own sword. Often meditation of this hath won me to a charitable interpretation of their action who die so ; ' and his conclusion is,4 'that self-homicide may be free, not only from enormous degrees of sin, but from all.' The whole work displays great learning and extreme subtlety ; I doubt much whether St. Thomas Aquinas could have argued so absurdly wicked a proposition better ; and against such an adversary Bunyan appears in the person of Hope- ful, and in a few words dissipates all the mist of his subtleties, and exposes the utter peril and destruction that must follow so awful a sin as self- murder. The dignitary of the Church was taught - See vol. ii. p. b'60. 3 December 1831. * Donne's Thesis, p. ~ti. INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 75 by schoolmen a difference between sins which a simple Christian could not have conceived. Dr. Donne quotes the penitential canons which inflicl a greater penance upon one who kills his wife, than upon one who kills his mother; ' not that the fault is greater, but that, otherwise, mare would commit it.'8 Our pious Pilgrim, taught by the Boly Spirit, abhors nil sin as bringing the curse of the law upon the Burner, and requiring the blood of atonement to cleanse its stain. The view of those who fell under despair, as seen from the Delectable Mountains, is exactly in accordance with the experience narrated in the 'Grace Abounding,' No. 186. '0 the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that arc affected hv a thorough application of guilt, yielded to desperation ! this is the man that hath his dwelling among the tombs with the dead.' Compare this with the Pilgrim's feelings in Doubting Castle, and their view from the Delectable Mountains. Bunyan was by nature a philosopher; he knew the devices of Satan, and warns the professor of his danger of backsliding. The conversation upon this subject between the pilgrims, opens the depths of the human heart, and the subtleties of Satan, j One Temporary represents those professors who I return to the world ; he had wept under a sense ' of sin ; had set out on pilgrimage, but was per- verted by Save-self. Christian had a narrow escape from Worldly-wiseman, but Temporary was lost, lie warns the pilgrim of one great device of the enemy in his treatise of 'A Holy Life.' 'Take heed, professor, of those sins -which Satan finds most suitable to your temper and constitution ; ' these, as the little end of the wedge, enter with ease, and so make way for those that come alter, with which Satan knows he can rend the soul in pieces. In the conversation with Ignorance, Bunyan speaks the sentiments, but not in the language of Arthur Dent, when, in the Plain Mans Pathway to Heaven, he says — ' You measure yourselves by yourselves, and by others ; which is a false mete-wand. For you seem to lie str long as you are measured by yourselves and by others; but lay the rule of God's Word unto you, and then you lie all crooked.' At length Christian and Hopeful arrive at the river which has no bridge ; they cross in safety, and ascend to blessedness, which 'eye bath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered iuto the heart of man to conceive.' We see them enter, and are ready to exclaim — ■ 'Celestial visions— Then the wondrous story, Of Ji nt seem'd a tale most true ; How lie beheld their entrano Aud saw them pass the pearly portal through ; 1 Page 28. Catching, meanwhile, a beatific view Of that bright city, shining like tin un Whose glittering streets appear'd of golden hue, \\ here spirits of the jn>i their conflicts done, Walk'd in white robes, with palms, and crowned every one.'1 After having accompanied the Pilgrim and his friend Hopeful to the gates of the Celestial City, and longed to enter with him into the realms of bliss, we naturally revert to his widow and orphans, and with renewed delight do we find the truth of the promise: 'Thy Maker is thy husband,' 'a father to the fatherless.' Wo unite heart and soul with the amiable family at the Interpreter's house, who 'leaped for joy' when they arrived. And on reaching the Palace Beautiful, '0 what a noise for gladness was there within, when the Damsel did but drop that word out of her mouth- Christiana and her boys have come on pilgrimage!' Having been the road before, we feel renewed pleasure at every step, and richly enjoy our new companions ; for the inexhaustible treasures of Banyan's mind furnishes us with new pleasures every step of the way. Banyan's views of church-fellowship show his heavenly-mindedness, and happy would it be fur the church if all its members were deeply imbued with these peaceful, lovely principles ; he thus expresses them: ' Christians are like the several Flowers in a garden, that have upon each of them the Dew of Heaven, which being shaken with the wind, they let fall their dew at each other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nour- ishes of one another. Also where the Gardiner has set them, there they stand, aud quarrel not with one another, lor Christians to commune savourly of God's matters one with another, it is as if they opened to each other's nostrils Boxes of Perfumes.1 Saith Paul to the Church at Home: / long to it v you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end yon may be established; that is, that I may be comforted together with you, by the mutual faith both of you and me' Rom. i. 11, 12. The character of Mercy is lovely throughout the whole journey; but there is a circumstance in her courtship which may not be generally understood. It is where she refers to the conduct of her brother- in-law to her sister Bountiful — a method of separ- ating man and wife at all times perfectly illegal, and happily at present unknown: 'Because my sister was resolved to do as she begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors.' This is a summary mode of divorce, not mentioned in any work on vulgar cus- toms or popular antiquities. My kind friend, the Rev. J. Jukes, the pastor of the church at Bedford, informs me, ' That the practice of crying a wife at -' Barton's Minor Poena, p. 75. 1824, fcp. 8vo. s Vol ii p. 57(1; Treatise on 'Christian Behaviour; see also the 'Pilgrim,' Part II., of the garden in th« Interpreter! ho!ise. 7S THE PILGRTM'S PROGRESS. the market-cross seems to have prevailed in Bed- fordshire almost to the present time, and to have been merely a mode of advertisement to the public, that the husband would not pay the debts of his wife, contracted subsequent to the time when it occurred.' The character of Mr. Brisk is wittily drawn in Bunyan's Emblems: — — ' Candles that do blink within the socket, And saints whose eyes are always in their pocket, Are much alike ; such candies make us fumble ; And at such saints, good men and bnd do stumble.' Bunyan enjoyed the beauties of nature, espe- cially the singing of birds ; thus when Christiana leaves the Palace Beautiful, the songs of the birds are reduced to poetry, to comfort the pilgrims. A bird furnished him with one of his Divine Emblems. It is upon the lark: — * This pretty bird, oh ! how she flies and sings But could she do so if she had not wings? Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace; When I believe and sing, my doubtings cease.' Mercy longs for that mirror which flatters not, and the shepherds give her a Bible. Modern Christians may wonder that she had not previously furnished herself with one ; doubtless she had the use of one, and all her pocket-money went to re- lieve the distresses of the poor of Christ's flock. Think of the thousands of pious men and women incarcerated in dungeons, because they loved Christ, and dared not violate conscience. What a charge upon those saints who possessed the means of rendering them assistance ! The re- venues of the Church by law established were never used for the distribution of Bibles. The Church had obtained a most enormous and in- jurious privilege, for the sole printing of Bibles in all languages, to withhold altogether, or give a supply as they chose. The natural consequence of this was, a high price for books printed on bad paper, and miserably incorrect. Of late years, part of the wealth she derived from her monopoly in printing incorrect Bibles has been wrung from her, and the Word of life now flows all pure as a mighty river, to refresh the earth. All honour be paid to those who fought that battle, and obtained that important victory. In Bunyan's time, the Church allowed it only ' in a niggard stream, and that polluted.' Herbert has well expressed the value of the mirror which Mercy longed for: — 'The Bible is the looking-glass of souls, wherein All men may see Whether they be Still as by nature they are, deformed with sin ; Or in a better case, As new adorned with grace.'1 Herbert's Synagogue, p. ]. And he has thus shown the value of its sacred pages, to guide the benighted travellers: 'Great- heart struck a light, and took a view of his book or map.' ' The Bible 1 That's the book. The book indeed, The book of books 1 On which who looks, As he should do aright, shall never need Wish for a better light To guide him in the night.'2 The Christian reader can scarcely know, after having read the whole volume, which gave the greatest enjoyment — whether travelling in com- pany with Christian and his bosom friend, or the delightful feelings excited by witnessing the ma- tronly conduct of Christiana ; seeing her modest friend, Mercy, a lovely companion, or the excellent picture of child-like behaviour in the four boys: retracing the road, every step becomes delightfully interesting, and the Valley of Humiliation the most lovely picture of the whole. The courtship of Mr. Brisk — the additions to their company — the weddings, and the happy close3 — this, with the final perseverance of the whole party, leads every reader earnestly to wish for a Third Part, more adventures, more of the Divine goodness, more proofs that in this world, with all its bitterness, the gospel of Jesus Christ makes its possessors happy ; yes, ' we have the promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come.' But death, probably from the latent effects of his im- prisonment, cut short the valuable life of the pil- grim's friend. And now, after long neglect, his country is teeming with his name as a national honour, and scarcely knows how sufficiently to show respect and admiration to his memory. Mag- nificent merchant-ships bear that name to oriental and transatlantic countries. Several thousand pounds have been subscribed to adorn the scene of his labours at Bedford, with a Bunyan Chapel, capable of seating about twelve hundred worship- pers— a more appropriate monument to his memory than a statue or a splendid tomb. The pens of our greatest literary men have been employed to exhibit his singular piety, his extraordinary talent, and his extensive usefulness, and his image is to be placed with those of Milton, Shakspeare, Hamp- den, and the giant men who have shed glory upon this nation, in the splendid new house in which the Commons of England are to hold their sittings. Hackney, Sept. 1850. GEO. OfFOR. 2 Herbert's Synagogue, p. 15. 3 The last words of Christiana were — * I come, Lord, to lie with thee, and bless thee.' ' How my heart Longs, JESUS, for thy coming! to set free, Th' imprison'd pilgrim from frail flesh aud sin, 1'rom evil aud from death, to wing her way, Her joyful way, to liberty and thee I' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS PBOM THIS WOULD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME: DKI.IVI.HKD UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. By .JOHN BUNYAX. This edition is prepared from a careful collation of the twelve editions published by the author during his life. It embraces the whole allegory in its native simplicity and beauty ; illustrated with appropriate engravings ; and variorum NOTES; being extracts from Bunyan's various treatises which illustrate the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' together with the most striking and valuable Notes by Cheever, Macaulay, Newton, Mason, Scott, Ivimey, Burder, M'Nicoll, Dr. Dodd, and other Commentators, with a few by the Editor. To preserve the uniformity of the text, the foe-similes of all the original wood- cuts, with the verse under each, are placed together in the order in which they first appeared ; presenting a short pictorial outline of the principal scenes of this spiritual pilgrimage, in those rude representations which so delighted and interested us in our childhood. SYNOPSIS OF THE ALLEGORY BY THE EDITOR. FIRST PART. The Author's Apology, a poem. Graceless becomes a Christian ; alarmed for the safety of his soul ; is treated by his familj as one diseased; guided by Evan- gelist ; runs towards the Wicket-gate ; is overtaken by Obstinate and Pliable ; persuades Pliable to fly with him; fall into the Slough of Despond; Pliable returns; Christian, assisted by Help, goes ou ; meets Worldly- wiseman; complains of his burden, and is sent out of his way to the house of Legality; terrified at Mouut Sinai ; Evangelist appears and puts him again into the right road; arrives at the Wicket-gate; is admitted by Good-will, and sent to the Interpreter's house ; is shown a picture; a dusty room; Passion and Patience; the fire of grace ; the valiant man ; the man in de- spair ; the trembler ; proceeds to the cross ; loses his burden; angels give him a pardon, new clothing, a mark, and a roll ; tries to alarm three men asleep, but iu vain; meets Formalist and Hypocrisy ; ascends the hill Difficulty; sleeps in the Arbour, and drops his roll; is awakened, and pursues his journey; meets Mistrust and Timorous ; misses his roll ; returns in grief, and recovers it ; goes on to the Palace Beautiful ; encour- aged by Watchful, he passes the lions, and, after exam- ination, is admitted according to the laws of the house; entertained ; sleeps in the Chamber of Peace ; sees the study; the armoury; the Delectable Mountains; enters the Yalley of Humiliation ; fights with and overcomes | Apollyon; comes to the Valley of the Shadow of Death; I terrified by the spies; assaidted with foes who care not for his sword; betakes himself to another weapon, 'All-prayer;' comes out of the Valley, and passes the I old giants, Pagan and Pope; overtakes Faithful, a fellow-pilgrim ; hold communion with each other ; con- ! verse with Talkative ; Evangelist forewarns them of persecution; enter Vanity Fair; are maltreated; im- prisoned; Faithful is tried and burned; Christian pur- sues his journey, and is joined by Hopefid ; By-ends wishes to join them ; the sophistry of Hold-the-world detected ; Demas tempts them to the hill Lucre, but they refuse ; arrive at the River of the Wrater of Life; they go into By-path Meadow; follow Vain-Confidence; are taken by Giaut Despair, and imprisoned in Doubt - iiiLT Castle; arguments for and against suicide; escape by the Key of Promise; erect a pillar to caution others; arrive at the Delectable Mountains; enter- tained by the shepherds; are shown Mounts Error, Caution, and Clear; see the Celestial Gate; receive some cautions; fail hi attempting to convert Igno- rance; robbery of Little-faith; meet the Flatterer, and are caught in his net; released by a Sinning One; meet Atheist; adventures on the Enchanted Ground; means of watchfulness; enter the Land of Beulah; are sick with love; approach the River of Death; no bridge; full of fear and dread, but jget safely over; received by angel- admitted to | glory. 73 SYNOPSIS OF THE ALLEGORY. SECOND PART. The Author's way of sending it forth, a poem. Sagacity narrates how Christiana, the widow of Chris- tian, reflects upon her former conduct, feels her dangers and agrees with her children to follow her late husband in pilgrimage ; is encouraged by a secret influence on her mind that she would be received ; her neighbours dissuade her, but she prevails upon one of them, Mercy, to go with her ; she is reviled by her acquaintance ; get over the Slough of Despond, and are admitted at the Wicket-gate, and rejoice together. They are fed, washed, and sent on then; way ; the children eat the enemies' fruit ; are assaulted, but rescued by the Re- liever ; arrive at the Interpreter's house ; shown the significant rooms, the man who prefers a muck-rake to a celestial crown, the spider in the best room, the hen and chickens, butcher and sheep, the garden, the field, the robin ; the Interpreter's proverbs ; tree rotten at heart; they relate their experience; Mercy is sleepless for joy; they are washed, which enlivens and strengthens them ; sealed and clothed ; Great-heart guards them to the house called Beaiitiful ; pass the sepidchre where Christian lost his burden ; pardon by word and deed, an important distinction ; see Simple, Sloth, and Pre- sumption hanging ; names of those that they had ruined; Hill Difficidty; By-ways, although stopped and cautioned, still entered ; rest in the Arbour, but are afraid to sleep ; still suffer by forgetfulness ; punishment of Timorous and Mistrust ; Giant Grim slain ; pilgrims arrive at the Palace Beautiful ; Great- heart returns ; they are entertained for a month ; the children catechised ; Mr. Brisk makes love to Mercy ; her sister Bouutiful's unhappy marriage ; Matthew sick with the enemies' fruit ; is healed by Dr. Skill ; his prescriptions ; instructive questions ; they are greatly strengthened ; Mr. Great-heart sent to guard them; enter the Valley of Humiliation, and are pleased with it; shepherd boy's song; see the place where Christian and Apollyon fought ; come into the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; are greatly terrified ; Giant Maul slain ; find Old Honest, a pilgrim, sleeping ; he joins them ; story of Mr. Fearing ; good men some, tunes much in the dark ; he fears no difficulties, only lest he should deceive himself ; case of Self-will ; a j singular sect in the author's time ; are entertained at the house of Gaius ; pilgrims the descendants of the martyrs; Matthew and Mercy betrothed; riddles in verse; Slay -good, a giant, slain; Feeble-mind rescued; proves to Tbe related to Mr. Fearing ; Not-right killed with a thunder-bolt ; Matthew and Mercy, and James and Phebe, married; Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt join the pilgrims ; profitable converse between Honest and Great-heart ; Vanity Fair ; the death of Faithful had planted a little colony of pilgrims there; pleasant com- munion; courage and an unspotted life essential to pilgrims ; Samuel and Grace, and Joseph and Martha, married. The Monster [state religion] assaulted and wounded ; beheved by some that he will die of his wounds; pass the place where Faithful was martyred; the silver mine ; Lot's wife ; arrive at the river near the Delectable Mountains ; By-path Meadow ; slay Giant Despair, and Diffidence, his wife, and destroy Doubting Castle ; release Mr. Despondency and Miss Much-afraid ; Great-heart addresses the shepherds in rhyme ; Mounts Marvel, Innocent, and Charity ; see the hole in the side of the Hill ; Mercy longs for a curious mirror; the pilgrims are adorned; story of Turn-away; fiud Valiant-for-truth wounded by thieves ; account of his conversion ; the question debated, that if we shall know ourselves, shall we know others in the future state ? arguments used by relatives to pre- vent pilgrimage ; the Enchanted Ground ; an arbour called the Slothful's Friend ; in doubt as to the way, the book or map is examined ; Heedless and Bold in a fatal sleep ; surprised by a solemn noise, they are led to Mr. Stand-fast in prayer, he having been assailed by Madam Bubble; arrive in the Land of Beulah, and are delighted with celestial visions on the borders of the River of Death ; Christiana summoned, addresses her guide, and blesses her cliildren and her fellow- pilgrims ; her last words ; Mr. Ready-to-halt passes the River ; Feeble-mind is called, will make no will, and goes up to the Celestial City ; Despond- ency and Much-afraid die singing; Honest dies sing- ing Grace reigns; Valiaut-for-truth and Stand-fast joyfully pass the river, leaving a solemn message to relatives. Joy in heaven on the arrival of the pilgrims. Christiana's children a blessing to the church. ji S - 2 ~- Zt "S = -5 - 5 5 — -s ,_ c3 O o 1 s s I *£ o f* -^ i a3«s I § Ills 15 i *- 1 a ?ssa r. ? I El ^ ■8 g, -§ 3 » g "a" £ bD 5 )£> £ -2 s 'pit cd J a * « S « o g S .J & >h a, a s g g g ■§ 2 "*" ^3 ^ S -3 ,— g g s 2 ,d -2 « If c «» S > 3. 1 gl^S if 13 §*S I =s «" i. b * * 13 J -g g O^-aa. be '-: P^5 -g.g THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. When at the first I took my pen in hand, Thus for to write, I did not understand That I at all should make a little book In such a mode : nay, I had undertook To make another ; which, wheu almost done, Before I was aware, I this begun. And thus it was : I writing of the way And race of saints, in this our gospel-day, Fell suddenly into an allegory About their journey, and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down ; Tins done, I twenty more had in my crown ; And they again began to multiply, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that I already am about. Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think To show to all the world my pen and ink In such a mode ; I only thought to make I knew not what : nor did I undertake Thereby to please my neighbour ; no, not I ; I did it mhie own self to gratify. Neither did I but vacant seasons spend In this my scribble ; nor did I intend But to divert myself in doing this, From worser thoughts which make me do amiss. Thus I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts on black and white. Tor having now my method by the end, Still as I pull'd it came ; and so I penn'd It down ; until it came at last to be, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, I show'd them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify : And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die. Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not so Some said, It might do good ; others said, No Now was I in a strait, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me : At last I thought; since you are thus divided, I print it will ; and so the case decided. For, thought I, some, I see, would have it dGne, Though others in that channel do not run : To prove then, who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. I further thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it, thus to gratify ; I did not know, but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight. For those which were not for its coming forth, I said to them, Offend you I am loath ; Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, Forbear to judge, till you do further see. If that thou wilt not read, let it alone ; Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone. Yea, that I might them better palliate,1 I did too with them thus expostulate : May I not write in such a style as this ? In such a method too, and yet not miss My end — thy good ? Why may it not be done ? Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none. Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either, But treasures up the fruit they yield together : Yea, so commixes both, that in her fruit None can distinguish this from that ; they suit Her well when hungry : but if she be full, She spews out both, and makes their blessings null You see the ways the fisherman cloth take To catch the fish ; what engines doth lie make ! Behold ! how he engageth all his wits ; Also his snares, hues, angles, hooks, and nets. Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor line, Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine : They must be grop'd for, and be tickled too, Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do. 1 In the first eight editions published by Bunyan, the word ' palliate ' is used ; but in the ninth (1684), and subsequently, it was altered to ' moderate.' — (Ed.) 56 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. How does the fowler seek to catch his game By divers means ! AJl which one cannot name : His gun, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell : He creeps, he goes, he stands ; yea, who can tell Of all his postures ? Yet, there's none of these Will make him master of what fowls he please. Yea, he must pipe and whistle, to catch this, Yet if he does so, that bird he will miss. If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster-shell ; If things that promise notliing, do contain What better ib than gold; who will disdain. That have an inkling ' of it, there to look, That they may find it ? Now my little book, (Though void of all those paintings2 that may make It with this or the other man to take), Is not without those things that do excel. What do in brave,3 but empty notions dwell. Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, That this your book will stand, when soundly tried. Why, what's the matter? It is dark. What though ?4 But it is feigned. What of that, I trow ? Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine, Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine ! But they want solidness : Speak, man, thy mind : They drown the weak, metaphors make us blind. Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to men : But must I needs want solidness, because By metaphors I speak ? Were not God's laws, His gospel-laws, in olden time held forth By types, shadows, and metaphors ? Yet loath Will any sober man be to find fault With them, lest he be found for to assault The highest wisdom. No ; he rather stoops, And seeks to find out what by pins and loops ; By calves and sheep ; by heifers and by rams ; By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, God speaketk to him. And happy is he That finds the light and grace that in them be. Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude That I want solidness, that I am rude : All things solid in show, not solid be ; All things in parables despise not we, Lest things most hurtful, lightly we receive ; And things that trood are, of our souls bereave. My dark and cloudy words they do but hold The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. The prophets used much by metaphors To set forth truth : Yea, who so considers Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see, Tint truths to this day in such mantles be. Am I afraid to say, that Holy Writ, Which, for its style and phrase, puts down all wit, Is everywhere so full of all these things (Dark figures, allegories), yet there springs From that same book,5 that lustre, and those rays Of light, that turn our darkest night to days. Come, let my carper to his life now look, And find there darker lines than in my book He findeth any. Yea, and let him know, That in his best things there are worse lines too. May we but stand before impartial men, To his poor one I dare adventure ten ; That they wdl take my meaning in these lines Bar better than his lies in silver shrines. Come, truth, although in swaddling clouts, I find, Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind; Pleases the understanding, makes the will Submit ; the memory, too, it doth fill With what doth our imaginations please ; Likewise, it tends our troubles to appease. Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use, And old wives' fables he is to refuse ; But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid The use of parables ; in which lay hid That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that wero Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. Let me add one word more. 0 man of God ! Art thou offended ? dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress ? Or, that I had in things been more express ? Three things let me propound, then I submit To those that are my betters (as is fit) : — 1. I find not that I am denied the use Of this, my method, so I no abuse Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude In handling figure or similitude, In application ; but, all that I may, Seek the advance of truth, tins or that way. Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave (Example, too, and that from them that have 1 * Inkling ;' intimation, slight knowledge. — (Ed.) 2 The first and second editions of the Pilgrim's Progress bad no cuts, not even the sleeping portrait. — (Ed/ 3 ' Brave ;' showy, ostentatious. — (En.) * What though [it be dark]?— (Ed.) s ' That same book' made a prison a far happier place than a palace without it. Wondrous book! happy is that soul which is enlightened to ' behold wondrous things out of God'i law,' Ps. cxk. 18.— (Ed.) THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HTS BOOK. 87 God better pleased by their words or ways Than any man that breatheth now-a-days) Thus to express my mind, thus to declare Things unto thee that excellentest are. 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write Dialogue-wise ; yet no man doth them slight For writing so ; indeed, if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use To that intent ; but yet let truth be free To make her sallies upon thee and me, Which way it pleases God. Tor who knows how, Better than he that taught us first to plough, To guide our mind and pens for his design ? And he makes base things usher in divine. 3. I find that Holy "Writ, in many places, Hath semblance with this method, where the cases Do call for one thing to set forth another ; Use it I may, then, and yet nothing smother Truth's golden beams ; nay, by this method may Make it cast forth its rays, as light as day. And now, before I do put up my pen, I'll show the profit of my book, and then Commit both thee and it unto that hand That pulls the strong down and makes weak ones stand. This book, it cbalketh out before thine eyes The man that seeks the everlasting prize ; It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes, What he leaves undone ; also, what he does ; It also shows you how he runs and runs, 'Till he unto the gate of glory comes. It shows, too, who set out for life amain, As if the lasting crown they would attain ; Here, also, you may see the reason why They lose their labour, and, like fools, do die. This book will make a traveller of thee, If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be ; It will direct thee to the Holy Land, If thou wilt its directions understand ; Yea, it will make the slothful active be ; The blind, also, delightful things to see.1 Art thou for something rare and profitable ? Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable ? Art thou forgetful ? Wouldest thou remember Prom New Year's Day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies, they will stick like burs, And may be to the helpless comforters. This book is writ in such a dialect As may the minds of listless men affect ; It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. Would'st thou divert thyself from melancholy ? Would'st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? Would'st thou read riddles, and their explanation ? Or else be drowned in thy contemplation ? Dost thou love picking meat ? or would'st thou see A man i' th' clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? Would'st thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep ? Or, woidd'st thou in a moment laugh and weep ? Woidd'st thou lose thyself and catch no harm ? And find thyself again without a charm ? Would'st read thyself, and read thou know'st not what, And yet know whether thou art bless'd or not By reading the same lines ? Oh then come hither, And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. John Bunyan. 1 Many there have been to whom, by loss of sight, all this world has been shut up in darkness, but who have richly enjoyed a spiritual vision of God, of heaven, and of eternal bliss.— (Ed.) TJie following are the principal Works from which (lie Notes to tills Edition of The Pilgrim liave been selected : — The Pilgrims Progress, Part the First. 12nio, 1776. The preface states, that ' an edition, containing some brief notes to illustrate the more difficult passages, lias been long desired. An attempt of this kind is now submitted to the public.' This appears to be the first edition with notes. There is no indi- cation of who the notes are by; but there can be little doubt but that they are from the pen of the Rev. J. Newton, the friend of Cowper. The Editor has four editions of this inter- esting volume— 1776, 1782, 1789, and 1797- The Pilgrims Progress; both Parts, with Notes. By W. Mason. Svo, 1778. In the preface, Mr. Mason says, 'I have often wished to see some explanatory notes upon certain pas- sages in it. Having been solicited to undertake this, at a lime when no one had attempted it, I have endeavoured, according to the ability which God has given me, to execute it.' This book was published in numbers, and the notes proved very acceptable. The subscribers requested that more frequent and longer notes should be given. Mr. Mason pro- mises to comply with this request. The advertisement is dated ' Kotherhithe, March 8, 1776.' The Pilgrim's Progress, with Notes. By A Bachelor of Arts of Oxford— J. B. 8vo. 1792. The Pilgrims Progress in blauk verse. By J. S. Dodd, M.D. Dublin, 1795. The Pilgrim s Progress, with a Key to the Allegory. Pub- lished by lieptinstall, 1796. The Pilgrim's Progress, divided into Chapters. By the Rev. G. Burder, of Coventry. 12mo, 1797. A Keg to the Pilgrim's Progress. By Andronicus. 1 2mo, second edition, 1797. The Pilgrim's Progress, with Notes. Bv the Rev. T. Scott. 8vo. The Pilgrim's Progress versified, with short Notes. By G. Burder, 1804. The Pilgrim's Progress, with Life. Bv M'Nicoll and Dr A. Clarke. Svo, 1809. Warr's Course of Lectures, Illustrative of the Pilgrim's Progress. Svo, 1825. 'The Pilgrim's Progress, with Historical and Practical Notes. By the Rev. J. Ivimey. 8vo. Oxford, 1S24; London, 1829. The Pilgrim's Progress, au Epic Poem. By C. C. V. G. Svo. Parsonstown, 1844. 'J he Pilgrim's Progress, an Epic Poem, Two Parts. Pub- lished by Bagster, 1845. Dr. Cheever's [exceedingly interesting] Lectures. 1S46. The extracts from Bunyan's other works, which so admir- ably illustrate his Pilgri?/i's Progress, have a reference to titis new edition. BEi>Fora> JAIL AUD GATEHOUSE. Situated over He middle of the river Ouse. In this damp den John Bunyan wrote the wondrous »bfam. The View was taken !n 1 The Gatehouse ves nulled down in 1W». The nrison. in which the sleeping apartments are called by Mr. Howar-i two dun(.e ucd unci] lu»l j;reM Lhilanthroiist unveiled its gloom) wretchedness in I7BS, soon after which it ua.-. willed down. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS; SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. TART I As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a den ; l and I laid me down in that place to sleep : and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and, hehold, ' I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a hook in his hand, and a great burden upon his back,' is. lxiv. 6. Ln. xiv. S3. Ps. xixviii. 4. Hab. ii. 2. Ac. xvi. 31. I looked, and Saw him open the book,2 and read therein ; and as he read, he wept and trembled ; and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, ' What Shall I do?' Ac.ii.37.3 In this plight, therefore, he went home, and re- frained himself as long as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble increased. Wherefore at length he brake his mind to his wife and children ; and thus he began to talk to them: '0 my dear wife,' said he, 'and you, the children of my bowels, I, }rour dear friend, am in myself undone, by reason of a burden that lieth 1 The jail. Mr. Banyan wrote this precious book in Bed- ford jail, where he was imprisoned twelve years for preaching the gospel. His bonds were those of the gospel ; and, like Peter, he could sleep soundly in prison. Blessed be God for even the toleration and religious privileges we now enjoy in consequencetif it. Our author, thus prevented from preaching, turned his thoughts to writing; and, during his confinement, composed 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' and many other useful works. Thus the Lord causes ' the wrath of man to praise him.' The servants of Christ, when restrained by wicked laws from publishing the word of life from the pulpit, have become more abundantly useful by their writings. — (G. Burder.) a You will observe what honour, from his Pilgrim's first *ettin_' out, Bunyan puts upon the Word of God. He would give to no inferior iustrumentality, not even to one of God's providences, the business of awakening his Pilgrim to a sense of his danger ; but he places him before us reading his book, awakened by the Word. And he makes the first efficacious motive in the mind of this Pilgrim a military fear of the terrors of that Word, a sense of the wrath to come, beneath the burden of sin upon his soul. — (Cheever, Lect. vi.) The alarms of such an awakened soul are very different from the terrors of super- stitious icmoranee, which, arisin'_' from fright or danger, are easily quitted, with the silly mummeries of priestcraft. — (Andro- nicus.) 'J ' What shall I do?' This is his first exclamation. He has not as yet advanced so far as to say, What shall I do to be saved!' — (Cheever, Lect. vi.) VOL. III. hard upon me ; moreover, I am for certain informed that this our city will be burned with fire from heaven ; in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee, my wife, and you, my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way of escape can be found, whereby "ef *"™* ™£g we may be delivered.' At this, his relations were sore amazed ; not for that they believed that what ho had said to them was true, but because they thought that some frenzy dis- temper had got into his head;4 therefore, it drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. But the night was as troublesome to him as the day ; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So when the morning was come, they would know how he did ; he told them, worse and worse ; he also set to talking to them again, but they began to be hardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriages to him. Some- ^^rieffi for times they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber to pray for, and pity them, and also to condole his own misery. He would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying ; and thus for some days he spent his time.0 Now I saw upon a time, when he was walking in the fields, that he was, as he was wont, reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind ; and as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, ' What shall I do to be saved?' Ac. ivi 30, 31. I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would run ; yet he stood still, because, as 4 Sometimes I have been so loaden with my sins, that I could not tell where to rest, nor what to do; yea, at such times, I thought it would have taken away my senses. — (Buu- yan's Law and Grace.) 6 See the picture of a true penitent ; a deep sense of danger, and solemn concern for his immortal soul, and for hiawife and children ; clothed with rags ; his face turned from his house ; studying the Bible with intense interest ; a great burdi n on his back ; praying ; ' the remembrance of bis sins is grievous, and the burdeu of them is intolerable.' Reader, have you felt this?— (Dr. Dodd.) lis 90 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. I perceived, he could not tell which way to go.1 I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist com- ing to him, who asked, 'Wherefore dost thou cry?' He answered, Sir, I perceive, by the hook in my hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment, He. ix. 27; and I find that I am not willing (Job xvi. 21, 22) to do the first, nor able (Eze. xxii. 14) to do the second. Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with so many evils ? The man answered, Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave; and I shall fall into Tophet. is. xxx. 33. And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit, I am sure, to go to judgment, and from thence to execution ; and the thoughts of these things make me cry. Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, „ ■ .. , , why standest thou still ? He an- Conviction of the J , necessity of fly- swered, Because 1 know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parch- ment roll, and there was written within, ' Fly from the wrath to come. ' Mat. iii 7. The man therefore, read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must I fly ? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you see yonder wicket gate ? Mat. vn. 13. The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light ? Fs. cxix. 105. 2 Pe. i. 19. He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in to™htad^3 your eye, and go up directly thereto, thefWo?dVith°Ut so shalt tll0U see the Sate ; at whicll> when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do.2 So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now, he had not ran far from his own door, but his wife and children perceiving it, began to cry after him to return, Lu. xiv. 26; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, Life ! life ! Eternal life ! So he looked not behind him, Ge xix. 17, but fled towards the middle of the plain.3 They that fiy from The neighbours also came out to the wrath to see him run, and as he ran, some come, are a gaz- ing-stock to the mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return : and 1 Reader! be persuaded to pause a moment, and ask your- self the question — What is my case? Did I ever feel a deep concern about my soul ? Did I ever see my danger as a sin- ner? Did I ever exclaim, in the agony of my spirit, 'What must I do to be saved ?' Be assured that real godliness begins in feeling the burden of sin. — (G. Burder.) 2 The advice is to fly at once to Christ, and that he will then be told what to do. He is not told to get rid of his burden first, by reforming his life, and theu to apply for further instruction to the Saviour. — ( J. B. ) * When a sinner begins to fly from destruction, carnal relations will strive to prevent him; but the sinner who is in earnest for salvation, will be deaf to invitations to go back. The more he is solicited by them, the faster he will fly from them. — (Mason.) among those that did so, there were two that were resolved to fetch him back by force, je. xx. io. The name of the one was °£™' Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable.4 Now by this time, the man was got a good distance from them ; but, however, they were resolved to pursue him ; Avhich they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man, Neighbours, wherefore are ye come ? They said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can by no means be. You dwell, said he, in the City of Destruction, the place also where I was born ; I see it to be so ; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a place that burns with fire and brimstone. Be con- tent, good neighbours, and go along with me. What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us ? 5 Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that all ' which you shall forsake, ' 2 Co. iv. is, is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy ; and if you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as I myself, for there, where I go, is enough and to spare. Lu. xv. 17. Come away, and prove my words. Obst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them ? Chr. I seek an ' inheritance incorruptible, unde- filed, and that fadeth not away, ' 1 Pe. i. 4, and it is laid up in heaven, He. xi. is, and safe there, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my book. Obst. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your book ; will you go back with us, or no ? Chr. No, not I, saith the other; because I have laid my hand to the plough. Lu. ix. 62. Obst. Come, then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without him ; there is a 4 The names of these two neighbours are admirably charac- teristic, not confined to any age or place, but always accompany the young convert to godliness, as the shadow does the sub- stance. Christian is firm, decided, bold, and sanguine. Obsti- nate is profane, scornful, self-sufficient, and contemns God's Word. Pliable is yielding, and easily induced to engage in things of which he understands neither the nature nor the consequences. — (T. Scott.) 6 Objection. If I would run as you would have me, then I must run from all my friends, for none of them are running that way. Answ. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into the bosom of Christ, and of God. And what harm will that do thee ? Objec. But if I run this way, I must run from all my sins. Answ. That's true indeed; yet if thou dost not, thou wilt run into hell-fire. Objec. But I shall be mocked of all my neighbours. Answ. But if thou lose the benefit of heaven, God will mock at thy calamity. Objec. But, surely, I may begin this, time enough a year or two hence. Answ. Hast thou any lease of thy life ? Did ever God tell thee thou shalt live half a year or two months longer ? Art thou a wise man to let thy immortal soul hang over hell by a thrend of uncertain time, which may soon be "cut asunder by death? — (Bunyan's Preface to the Heavenly Footman.) mi: l'l I.C. KIM'S PROGRESS. 91 company of these crazed-headed coxcombs, that when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason. rr. x.wi. in. Pli. Then said Pliable, Do not revile ; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks after are bettor than ours ; my heart inclines to go with my neighbour. Obst. What ! more fools still ? Be ruled by me, and go back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be wise. Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy neigh- „, . . . ,,. bour Pliable : there are such things Christian and Ob- . ° stmate pull for to be had which I spoke of, and many Pliable's soul. , . \ • i t ii- more glories besides ; if you believe not me, read here in this book, and for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold, all is con- firmed by the blood of him that made it. lie. xiii. 20, 21; it 17-21. Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, RSable contented l beSin t0 COme t0 a P°int ? l intecd to go with Chris- to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him. But, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place ? Cur. I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about the way. Pli. Come then, good neighbour, let us be going. Then they went both together. Obst. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate goes Obstinate ; I will be no companion railing bacL of such misled fantastical fellows. Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate Talk between was Sone back, Christian and Pliable christian and went talking over the plain ; and thus Pliable. , , °, . .. r they began their discourse. Chr. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me ; bad even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt, of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would nut thus lightly have given us the back. Pli. Come, neighbour Christian, since there is none but us two here, tell me now further, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. Chr. I can better conceive of them with my God's things un- mind, than speak of them with my speakabie. tongue ; but yet since you are desir- ous to know, I will read of them in my book. Pli. And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true ? Chr. Yes, verily, for it was made by him that cannot he. Tit. i. 2. Pli. Well said. What things are they? Cur. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom forever, is. xiv. 17. jL. x. 27-29 Pli. Well said. And what else ? CnR. There are crowns of glory to be given ua, and garments that will make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven ! 2 Ti. iv. 8. Be. \\\. 4. Mat. xiii. 43. Pli. This is very pleasant. And what else? Chr. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow ; for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes. is. xxv. 8. Re. vii. ir>, 17 ; xxi. 4. Pli. And what company shall we have there ? Cmr. There we shall be with Beraphims, and cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them. There, also, you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands that have gone before us to that place; none of them are hurtful, but loving and holy, every one walking in the sight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance for ever ; in a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns ; there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden harps ; there we shall see men, that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place ; all well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment.1 is. vi. 2. 1 Th. iv. 16, 17. Re. vii. 17; iv. *; xiv. 1-5. Jn. xii. 25. 2 Co. v. 2-5. Pli. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart; but are these things to be enjoyed ? How shall we get to be sharers thereof ? Chr. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath recorded, that in this book, the substance of which is, if we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely, is. iv. i, 2, 12. Jn. vii. 3; ; vi. 37. Re. xxL 6 ; xxii. 17. Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things ; come on, let us mend our pace.2 1 It- is interesting to compare this account of heaven with that which Bunyan gave in the Preface to his ' Sighs from Hell,' published twenty years before : — ' O sinner, sinner, there are better things than lull to be had, and at a cheaper rate by the thousandth part than that. 0 there is no com- parison ; there is heaven, there is God, there is Christ, their is communion with an innumerable company of saints and angels.' — (Ed.) ■ Here you have another volume of meaning in a single touch of the pencil. Pliable is one of those who are willing, or think they are willing, to have heaven, but without any sense of sin, or of the labour and self-denial necessary to enter heaven. Bat now his heart is momentarily fired with Chris- tian's ravishing descriptions, and as he seems to have nothing to trouble his conscience, and no difficulties to overcome, the pace of an honest, thorough inquirer, the movement of a soul sensible of its distresses and its sins, and desiring comfort only in the way of healing and of holiness, seems much too slow for him. He is for entering heaven at once, going much faster than poor Christian can keep up with him. Then, said Christian, I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of His burden that is on mr back.— (Checver.) 92 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. I cannot go so fa3t as I would, by reason of this burden that is on my back. Now I saw in my dream, that, just as they bad The Slough of ended this talk, they drew near to a Despond. yery m;rv si0Ugn that was in the midst of the plain ; and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond.1 Here, therefore, they wal- lowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the dirt ; and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the mire. Pli. Then said Pliable, Ah ! neighbour Chris- tian, where are you now ? Ciir. Truly, said Christian, I do not know. Pli. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of ? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may Ave it is not enough expect betwixt this and our journey's to be pliable. en j ? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone for me. And with that he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next to his own house : so away he went, and Christian saw him no more. Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Christian, in Slough of Despond alone ; but still he trouble, seeks endeavoured to struggle to that side still to set fur- it -ii ther from his of the slough that was still further from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate ; the which he did, but could not get out, because of the burden that was upon his back.2 But I beheld in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him what he did there ? Chr. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to come. And as I was going thither, I fell in here. Help. But why did not you look The promises. - , J J tor the steps ( Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in.3 1 Satan casts the professor into the mire, to the reproach of religion, the shame of their brethren, the derision of the world, and the dishonour of God. He holds our hands while the world buffets us. He puts bears' skins upon us, and then sets the dogs at us. He bedaubeth us with his own foam, and then tempts us to believe that that bedaubing comes from ourselves.— {Good News to the VUest of Men, vol. i. p. 69.) 2 Guilt is not so much a wind and a tempest, as a load and burden. The devil, and sin, and the curse of the law, and death, are gotten upon the shoulders of this poor man, and are treading of him down, that he may sink into, and be swallowed up of, his miry place. Job xli. 30. — (Bunyan's Saints" Know- ledge of Christ's Love, vol. ii. p. 6.) 3 In this Slough of Despond there were good and firm steps, sound promises to stand upon, a causeway, indeed, better than adamant, clear across the treacherous quagmires ; but mark you, fear followed Christian so hard, that he fled the nearest Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand; so he gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him Hel Ufts llim go on his way. Ps. xi. 2. out- Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore (since over this place is the wav from the City of Destruction, to yonder gate) is it that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security? And he said unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended. It is the descent whither Whatmakestne the scum and filth that attends con- Slough of Des- viction for sin, doth continually run, p0U and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond : for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. And this is the reason of the badness of this ground. It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so bad, is. xxxv. 3, 4 ; his labourers, also, have, by the directions of his Majesty's sur- veyors, been, for above these sixteen hundred years, employed about this patch of ground, if, perhaps, it might have been mended ; yea, and to my knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand cart-loads ; yea, mil- lions of wholesome instructions, that have, at all seasons, been brought from all places of the King's dominions, and they that can tell, say, they are the best materials to make good ground of the place, if so be it might have been mended ; but it is the Slough of Despond still ; and so will be when they have done what they can.4 True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and substantial steps, ^^ promjse!, 0f placed even through the very midst forgiveness and * ° •> , acceptance to of this slough ; but at such time as life by faith in this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen ; or if they be, men, through the dizziness of their heads, step besides, and then they are bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there ; but the ground is good, when they are once got in at the gate.5 l Sa. xli. 23. way, and fell in, not stopping to look for the steps, or not thinking of them. Now this is often just the operation of fear; it sets the threatenings against the promises, when it ought simply to direct the sold from the threatenings to the promises. It is the object of the threatenings to make the promises shine, and to make the soul lay hold upon them, and that is the purpose and the tendency of a salutary fear of the Divine wrath on account of sin, to make the believer flee directly to the promises, and advance on them to Christ. — (Cheever.) 4 Signifying that there is nothing but despondency mid despair in the fallen nature of sinful man : the best that we can do, leaves us in the Slough of Despond, as to any hope in ourselves. — (Mason.) * That is, the Lord Jesus Christ. We never find good ground, nor safe sounding, nor comfortable walking, till we THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 93 Now I saw in my dream, that, by this time, Pliable f?ot Pliable was got home to his house I'm"' i'i of'' his again; so that his neighbours came neighbours. to vjs|t ]x\m . ami gome 0f them called him wise man for coming back, and some called him fool for hazarding himself with Christian; Hi. entertain- ot,ujrs» aSai,\ did mock at h'3 cow" "'"" i>y them ardliness. Baying. 'Surely, since you at his return. . 'Jo' J' J began to venture, 1 would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficul- ties.' So Pliable sat sneaking among them. But, at last, he got more confidence, and then they all turned their tabs, and began to deride poor Chris- tian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. Now as Christian was walking solitarily by him- self,1 he espied one afar off come crossing over the field to meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way of each other. The Mr w idl gentleman's name that met him was wiaemanmeeta Mr. Worldly-wiseman ; he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very great town, and also hard by from whence Christian came. This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling2 of him, for Christian's setting forth from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but, also, it began to be the town-talk in some other places. Master Worldly-wiseman, therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with Christian. World. How now, good fellow, whither away Talk betwixt after this burdened manner ? ^seln'a.ia Chr. A burdened manner, indeed, Christian. as ever) j think, poor creature had ! And whereas you ask me, Whither away ? I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder wicket-gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden. WORLD. Ilast thou a wife and children ? CnR. Yes ; but I am so laden with this bur- den, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly ; methinks I am as if I had none, l Co. vii. 29. World. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give thee counsel ? Chr. If it be good, I will ; for I stand in need of good counsel. enter into possession of Christ by faith, and till our feet arc set upon Christ, who is the Rock of ages. — (Mason.) 1 And now you may think, perhaps, that Christian having got out of the Slough of Despond, and fairly on his way, it is aD well with him ; but not so, for now he comes into a peril that is far greater than the last — a peril through which we sup- pose that every soul that ever goes on pilgrimage passes, and a peril in which multitudes that get safely across the Slough of Despond, perish for ever. — (Cheever.) 2 ' Some inkling ;' some intimation, hiut, or slight know- ledge: obsolete. — (Ed.) World. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself rid of thy m,. Worldly- burden : for thou wilt never be settled ",'7,'." !'|" "l in thy mind till then ; nur canst thou Christian, enjoy the benefits of the blessing which Cud hath bestowed upon thee till then. Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden; but get it off myself, 1 cannot; nor is there any man in our country that can take it off my shoulders ; therefore am I going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my burden. World. Who bid you go this way to be rid of thy burden ? Ciir. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person ; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. World. I beshrew him for his counsel! there is not a more dangerous and trouble- Mr. Worldly- some way in the world than is that de'S" hv'.'n- unto which he hath directed thee; gent's counsel, and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive already ; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is tho beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear me, I am older than thou ; thou art like to meet with, on the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what not! These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a stranger ? Ciir. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these The frame of things which you have mentioned ; ydung^CLris- nay, methinks 1 care not what I meet Uan- with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden. World. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? Ciir. By reading this book in my hand. World. I thought so ; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak men, who, med- dling with things too high for them, man doe^not do suddenly fall into thy distractions ; ^./J which distractions do not only unman jus in reading J* the Bibie, men, as thine, I perceive, has done thee, but they run tbem upon desperate ventures, to obtain they know not what. Cur. I know what I would obtain; it i- for my heavy burden. World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers attend VVhil|l,r Mr it ? especially since, hadst thou but WbrJdrj r ; T 1 1 j- * n,un Prcfers patience to hear me, 1 could direct morality before thee to the obtaining of what thou «K.tra,tg*.e. 94 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. rlesirest, without the dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into ; yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add, that, instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet with much safety, friendship, and content.1 Chr. Pray, Sir, open this secret to me. World. Why, in yonder village — the village is named Morality — there dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a man of a very good name, that has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are from their shoul- ders : yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way ; aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens.2 To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentle- man himself; there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden ; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, where there are houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable rates ; provision is there also cheap and good; and that which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit and good fashion. Now was Christian somewhat at a stand ; but Christian snared presently he concluded, if this be true, //-Wiseman's " which this gentleman hath said, my words. wisest course is to take his advice; and with that he thus further spoke. Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house ? „ . ,.- • World. Do you see yonder hill ? Mount Sinai. J J Chr. Yes, very well. World. By that hill you must go, and the first house you come at is his. So Christian turned out of his way, to go to Mr. Legality's house for help ; but, behold, when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so high, 1 There is great beauty in this dialogue, arising from the exact regard to character preserved throughout. Indeed, this forms one of our author's peculiar excellencies ; as it is a very difficult attainment, and always manifests a superiority of genius. — (Scott.) 2 Mr. Worldly- wiseman prefers morality to Christ the strait gate. This is the exact reasoning of the flesh. Carnal reason ever opposes spiritual truth. The notion of justification by our own obedience to God's law ever works in us, contrary to the way of justification by the obedience of Christ. Self- righteousness is as contrary to the faith of Christ as indulging the lusts of the flesh. The former is the white devil of pride, the latter the black devil of rebellion and disobedience. See the awful consequences of listening to the reasonings of the flesh. — (Mason.) and also that side of it that was next the wayside. did hang so much over, that Chris- christian afraid tian was afraid to venture further, smaivvouWflu lest the hill should fall on his head ; on his head- wherefore there he stood still, and wotted3 not what to do. Also his burden now seemed heavier to him, than while he was in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned. Ex. xix 16, is. Here, therefore, he sweat and did quake for fear. He. xii. 21. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly-wiseman's counsel. And with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him ; at the sight also eto^Christian" of whom he began to blush for shame, snfai'andbok- So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer ; eth severely 1 • i • 1 1 i -i upon him. and coming up to him, he looked upon him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with Christian. Evan. What dost thou here, Christian ? said he : at which words Christian knew ^ r . Evangelist rea- not what to answer ; wherefore at sons afresh . , , , , ... with Christian. present he stood speechless before him. Then said Evangelist further, Art not thou the man that I found crying without the walls of the City of Destruction ? Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket-gate ? Chr. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. Evan. How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned aside ? for thou art now out of the way. Chr. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough of Despond, who persuaded me that I might, in the village before me, find a man that could take off my burden. Evan. What was he ? Chr. He looked like a gentleman,4 and talked much to me, and got me at last to yield ; so I came hither : but when I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it should fall on my head. Evan. What said that gentleman to you ? Chr. Why, he asked me whither I was going ? And I told him. Evan. And what said he then ? Chr. He asked me if I had a family ? And I told him. But, said I, I am so loaden with the burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them as formerly. 3 'And wotted;' and knew. From the Saxon mien, to know ; see Imperial Dictionary. — (Ed.) 4 Beware of taking men by their looks. They may look as gentle as lambs, while the poison of asps is under their tongue; whereby they iufect many souls with pernicious errors and pestilent heresies, turning them from Christ aud the hope of full justification and eternal life through him only, to look to, and rely upon, their own works, in whole, or in part, for sal- vation.— (Mason.) THE I'lI.CKIM'S PROGRESS. 95 Evan. And what said he then ? Chr. He hid me with speed get rid of my hur- I den ; and I told him it was ease that I sought. And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate, | to receive further direction how 1 may get to the ! place of deliverance. So ho said that he would show me a bettor way, and short, not so attended with difficulties aa the way, Sir, that you set me in; which way, said he, will direct you to a gen- tleman's house that hath skill to take off these burdens : so 1 believed him,1 and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, I stopped for fear (as 1 said) of danger: but I now know not what to do. Evan. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, that I may show thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, ' See that ye refuse not him that speaketh. For if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that spealxth from heaven.' He. rii.25. He said, moreover, ' Now the just shall live by faith : but if any man draw back, my soul shall Evangelist con- have no pleasure in him.' lie. x. 08. He tiMeSofChirut' also did thus apply them: Thou art err for he jias good-will for men ; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, ' lest thou perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little.' p8. it 12. Then did Christian address himself to go back ; and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God- speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake he to any man by the way ; nor, if any asked him, would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he left, to follow Mr. Worldly-wiseman's counsel. So, in process of time, Christian got up to the gate. Now, over the gate there was written, « Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. ' Mat. vii. 8. 1 Legality is as great an enemy to the cross of Christ as licentiousness; for it keeps the soul from coming to, believing in, and trusting wholly to the blood of Christ for pardon, and the righteousness of Christ for justification 1 so that it keeps the soul in bondage, and swells the mind with pride, while licentiousness brings a scandal on the cross. — (Mason.) He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, saying— • May I now enter here ? Will he within Open to sorry me, though I have been An uudeserving rebel ? Then shall I Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.' At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Good-will, who asked who was there ? and whence he came ? and what he would have ? 2 Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from the wrath to come. I would, therefore, Sir, since I am informed that by this gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in ! Good-will. I am willing with all The gate will my heart, said he; and with that he jMSrted opened the gate.3 sinners. So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then said Christian, What means that ? The other told him. A little dis- tance from this gate, there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the Satan envies captain ; from thence, both he and teethe strait them that are with him shoot arrows Sate- at those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in.4 Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man of the christian en- gate asked him who directed him ^ joy g^a thither ? trembling. Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither, and knock 2 The straitness of this gate is not to be understood car- nally, but mystically. This gate is wide enough for all the truly sincere lovers of Tesus Christ, but so strait that it will keep all others out. The gate of Eden was wide enough for Adam and his wife to go out at, yet it was too strait for them to go in at. Why? They had sinned; and the cherubim and the flaming sword made it too strait for them. The gates of the temple were six cubits wide, yet they were so strait that none who were unclean might enter them. — (Bunyan's Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 367.) 3 Here behold the love of Jesus, in freely aud heartily receiving every poor sinner who comes unto him ; no matter how vile they have been, nor what sins they have committed, he loves them freely and receives them graciously; for he has nothing but good-will to them. Hence, the heavenly host sang at his birth, ' Good-wid towards men.' Lu. ii. 14. — (Mason.) 4 As sinners become more decided in applying to Christ, and assiduous in the means of grace, Satan, if permitted, will be more vehemeut in his endeavours to discourage them, that, if possible, he may induce them to desist, and so come short of the prize. — (Scott.) A whole heaven and eternal life is wrapped up in this little word in — 'Strive to enter in,' this calls for the mind and heart. Many professors make their striving to stand rather in an outcry of words, than in a hearty labour against the lusts and love of the world. But this kind of striving is but a beating the air, and will come to nothing at last. — (Bunyan's Strait Gale, vol. i. p. 366.) Coming souls will have opposition from Satan. He casts his fiery darts at them ; wanderings in prayer, enticements to old sins, aud even blasphemous thoughts, assail the trembling penitent, when striving to enter into the strait gate, to drive him from ' the way and the life.' — (En.) THE FILGRIM'S PROGRESS. '.'7 (as I did) ; and he said that you, Sir, would tell me what I must do. Good-will. An open door is set before thee, and Mk between ™ man can shut it. Good -will and Gnu. Now I beffiu to reap the Christian. , _ . , *» x benenta or my hazards. Good-will. But how is it that you came alone ? Ciir. Because none of my neighbours saw their danger, as I saw mine. Good-will. Did any of them know of your coming ? Chb, Yes; my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after me to turn again ; also, some of my neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return ; but I put my lingers in my cars, and so came on my way. Good-will. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back ? Ciir. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they saw that they could not prevail, Ob- stinate went railing back, but Pliable came with me a little way. Good-will. But why did he not come through ? Ciir. We, indeed, came both together, until we came at the Slough of Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my A man mm- have . , , nv 1.1 j- j 1 company when neighbour, r liable, discouraged, and heeaveen."Unndr would not adventure further. Where- yet go thither fore, jrettinsf out a°;ain on that side alone. ° , . ° . ° , , . T next to his own house, he told me 1 should possess the brave country alone for him ; so he went his way, and I came mine— he after Obstinate, and I to this gate. Good-will. Then said Good-will, Alas, poor man ! is the celestial glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to obtain it ? Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and if I should also say all the truth of Christian accus- myself, it will appear there is no tSSSA betterment1 betwixt him and myself. the gate. Jt J3 true> ]ie wenfc Dack to his own house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being persuaded thereto by the carnal argu- ments2 of one Mr. Worldly-wiseman. Good-will. Oh ! did he light upon you ? What ! he would have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. Legality. They are, both of them, a very cheat. But did you take his counsel ? Chr. Yes, as far as I durst ; I went to find out Mr. Legality, until I thought that the mountain 1 ' No betterment ' is an admirable expression of the Christian's humility — he set out in company, but reached the gate alone ; still it is not unto me, but unto thy name be all the glory. — (En.) ' ' Carnal arguments ' is altered to ' carnal agreement,' in several of Mr. Bunyan's editions ; see third to the ninth. — (Ed.) VOL. III. that stands by his house would have fallen upon my head ; wherefore, there I was forced to stop. Good-will. That mountain has been the death of many, and will be the death of many more ; it is well you escaped being by it dashed in pieces. Ciir. Why, truly, I do not know what bad become of me there, had not Evangelist happily met me again, as I was musing in the midst of my dumps ; but it was God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit, in- deed, for death, by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord ; but, 0! what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here ! Good-will. We make no objections against anv, notwithstanding all that they have done before they come hither. They are • in no christian com- Aviso cast out,' Jn. vi. 37; and therefore, fortcd as;un- good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee; dost thou see this nar- _. ... ,. , . Christian direet- row way i Iiiat is the way thou cd vet on ins must go; it was cast up by the patri- "a>- archs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles ; and it is as straight as a rule can make it. This is the way thou must go.3 Chr. But, said Christian, are there ~ . .. , .. . ' Christian afraid no turnings nor windings, by which a of losing his stranger may lose his way? Good- will. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked and wide. But thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being straight and narrow. Mat. viL 14. Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further if he could not help him christian weary off with his burden that was upon his ot "" burden- back ; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he by any mens get it off without help. He told him, as to thy burden, be Thcrcisnodeii- content to bear it, until thou comest vyram-e from gudt and to the place of deliverance ; for there burden of Bin, it will fall from thy back of itself. and Wood^of Then Christian began to gird up ChrIst- his loins, and to address himself to his journey. So the other told him, That by that he was gone some distance from the gate, he would come at the house of the Interpreter j at whose door he should knock, and he would show him excellent 3 Christian, when admitted at the strait gate, is directed in the narrow way ; not in the broad fashionable religion, i n the broad road, every man may choose a path suited to his inclinations, shift about to avoid difficulties, or accommodate himself to circumstances ; and he may be sure of company agreeable to his taste. But Christians must follow one another in the narroio way on the same track, faring enemies, and bearing hardships, withwi attempting to erode them ; nor is any indulgence given to different tastes, habits, or propensi- ties.—(Scott.) 13 . viL 6. 1 Co. xv. 56. lio. v. 80. Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upou which it was cleansed with pleasure ; this is to show thee, that when the gos- pel comes in the sweet and precious influences thereof to the heart, then, I say, even as thou Bawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the floor with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul made clean, through the faith of it, and consequently iit for the King of glory to inhabit. Jn. xv. 3. Ep. v. 26. Ac. xv. 0. Ro. xvi. 25, 26. Jn. xv. 13. I saw, moreover, in my dream, that the Inter- He slimu.d hjm prater took him by the hand, and had Passii a and him into a little room, where sat two little children, each one in his chair. The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much discontented ; but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, What is the reason of the discon- I'assion will tent of Passion? The Interpreter Pauw?s°for answered, The Governor of them waiting. would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next year; but he will have all now ; but patience is willing to wait. Then I saw that one came to Passion, and Passion has his brought him a bag of treasure, and dtsue. poured it down at his feet, the which he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal laughed , , ... Patience to scorn. But I beheld but And quickly lavishes all a while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing left him but rags. Chr. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to me. Inter. So he said, These two lads are figures : The matter ex- Passion, of the men of this world ; and pounded. patience, of the men of that which is to come; for, as here thou seest, Passion will have all now this year, that is to say, in this world ; so are the men of this world : they must have all their good things now, they cannot stay till next year, that is, until the next world, for their portion of good. That proverb, ' A ^ w bird in the hand is worth two in the manforabimi bush,' is of more authority with them than are all the Divine testimonies of the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left him nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such men at the end of this world. " Chr. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom, and patieucehasthe that upon many accounts. First, Be- beblu cause he stays for the best things. Second, And also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags. Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world will never wear out ; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at Patience, because be had his good things first, as Patience will have to laugh at Passion, because he had his best things last; for first must give place to last, Things th;it .„,, because last must have his time to [^""^f c come ; but last o-ives place to nothing ; things that are for there is not another to succeed. He, therefore, that hath his portion first, must needs have a time to spend it ; but he that hath his portion last, must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, 'Thou in thy life- Dives hadhis good time receivedst thy good things, and lUms* Urst- likewise Lazarus evil things ; but now he is com- forted, and thou art tormented.' Lu. xvi. 25. Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come. Inter. You say the truth: 'For the things which are seen are temporal; but the n,e first things things which are not seen are eter- 1 Christian well knew this in bis own deep experience ; for the burden of sin was on him still, and sorely did be feel it while the Interpreter was making this explanation ; and had it not been for bis remembrance of the warning of the man at the gate, he would certainly have besought the Interpreter to take off his burden. The law coidd not take it off; he had tried that; and grace had not yet removed it; so he was forced to be quiet, and to wait patiently. But when the damsel came and sprinkled the floor, and laid the dust, and then the parlour was swept so easily, there were the sweet influences of the gospel imaged; there was Divine grace distil- ling as the dew ; there was the gentle voice of Christ hushing the storm ; there were the corruptions of the heart, which the law had but roused into action, yielding under the power of Christ ; and there was the soul made clean, and lit for the King of glory to inhabit. Indeed, this was a most instructive emblem. 0 that my heart might be thus cleansed, thought Christian, and thin I verily believe I could bear my burden with great ease to the end of my pilgrimage ; but 1 have had enough of that tierce sweeper, the Law. The Lord deliver me from his besom ! — (Cheever.) arc but temporal. nal.' 2 Co. iv. is. But though this be so, yet since things present, and our fleshly appetite, are such near neighbours one to another; and again, be- cause things to come, and carnal sense, are such strangers one to another ; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fall into amity, and that distance is so continued between the second. Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter i took Christian by the hand, and led him into a 2 This was a vivid and striking emblem, and one which, in its general meaning, a child could understand. Passion stands for the men of this world, Patience of that which is to come ; Passion for those who will have all their good things now. Patience for those who are willing, with self-denial, to wa. for something better; Passion for those who are absorb dm temporal trifles, Patience for those whose hearts are 1.x upon eternal realities; Pas-io„ the a^^"V5£l£l impatient eagerness with which they are followed, Patana the SS SffS unseen, and the faith, hujmh.v, and tofo* to the world exercised in order to enjoy them. It IB a good commentary upon Ps. lniti — (CI 100 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it ; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter. Then said Christian, Wbat means this ? The Interpreter answered, This fire is tbe work of grace that is wrought in the heart ; he that casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out, is the Devil; but in that thou seest the fire not- withstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire.1 Then said Christian, What means this ? The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart: by the means of which, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his people prove gracious still. 2Co.xh\9. And in that thou sawest that the man stood be- hind the wall to maintain the fire, that is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul. I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was buikled a stately palace, beautiful to behold ; at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted ; he saw also, upon the top thereof, cer- tain persons walking, who Avere clothed all in gold. Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the palace ; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein; he saw also, that in the doorway stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. 1 This instructive vision springs from the author's painful, but blessed experience. The flame of love in a Christian's heart, is like the fire of despair in Satan's spirit — unquench- able. Before Eunyan had been behind the wall, the tempter suggested to him — 'You are very hot for mercy, but I will cool you, though I be seven years in chilling your heart, I can do it at last; I will have you cold before long.' — {Grace Abound- ing, No. 110.) He is the father of lies. Thus he said to Christian in the fight, ' Here will I spill thy soul;' instead of V hich, Apollyon was put to flight. We cannot fail with such a prop, That bears the earth's huge pillars up. Satan's water can never be so powerful to quench, as Christ's oil and grace are to keep the fire burning. Sinner, believe this, and love, praise, and rejoice in thy Lord. He loves with an everlasting love ; he saves with an everlasting salvation ; with- out his perpetual aid, we should perish ; Christ is the Alpha and Omega of our safety ; but how mysterious is the saint's perseverance until we have seen the secret supply ! — (Ed.) At last, when every man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man „ . The valiant man. ot a very stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying, ' Set down my name, Sir:'2 the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put an helmet upon his head, and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force: but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his way through them all, Ac. xiv. 22, and pressed forward into the palace, at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying — ' Come in, come in ; Eternal glory thou shalt win.' So he went in, and was clothed with such gar- ments as they. Then Christian smiled and said, I think verily I know the meaning of this.3 Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till I have showed thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark room, where there Despair like an sat a man in an iron cage. uon cage- Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad ; he sat with his eyes looking down to the ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then said Christian, What means this ? At which the Interpreter bid him talk with the man. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou ? The man answered, I am what I was not once. Chr. What wast thou once ? Man. The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others ; I once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither. Lu. viii. 13. Chr. Well, but what art thou now ? 2 For a man to fight his way through infernal enemies, is in every age a fearful battle ; but in addition to this, to enter his name as a nonconformist in Bunyan's time, demanded intrepidity of no ordinary degree; their enemies were the throne, the laws, and the bishops, armed with malignity against these followers of Jesus Christ. But there were noble spirits, ' of very stout countenance,' that by the sword of the Spirit cut their way through all opposition. Bunyau was one of these worthies. — (Ivimey.) 3 Verily thou didst, noble Christian ! And who is there that does not know the meaning of it, and what heart so cold as not to be ravished by it ! Yea, we should think that this passage alone might set any man out on this pilgrimage, might bring many a careless traveller up to the gate of this glorious palace to say, Set down my name, Sir 1 How full of instruc- tion is this passage I It set Christian's own heart on fire to run forward on his journey, although the battle was before him. — (Cheever.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 101 Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it, as in this iron cage. I cannot get out. 0 now 1 cannot ! Chr. But how earnest thou in this condition ? Man. I left off to watch and he soher ; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the Word, and the goodness of God ; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me ; 1 have provoked God to anger, and he has left me; I have so hardened my heart, that 1 cannot repent. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray Sir, do you. Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, hut you must be kept in the iron cage of despair ? Man. No, none at all. Inter. Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh, He. vi. g ; I have despised his person, Lu. xix. 14 ; I have despised his righteousness ; I have ' counted his blood an unholy thing;' I have ' done despite to the Spirit of grace. ' He. x. 28, 29. Therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings of cer- tain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.1 Inter. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world ; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight ; but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm. Inter. But canst thou not now repent and turn ? Man. God hath denied me repentance. His Word gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, himself hath shut me up in this iron cage ; nor can all the men in the world let me out. 0 eter- nity ! eternity ! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity ! Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.2 1 All these deeply interesting pictures are intended for every age and every clime. This iron cage of despair has ever skm up its victims. Many have supposed that it had a special reference to one John Child, who, under the fear of persecution, abandoned his profession, and, in frightful desperation, miser- ably perished by his own hand. See Introd. p. ?o ; see also the sickness and death of Mr. Badman's brother. — (Ed.) 2 Bunyan intended not to represent this man as actually beyond the reach of mercy, but to show the dreadful conse- Ciir. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God help me to watch and be sober, and to pray that 1 may shun the cause of this man's misery !3 Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now ?4 Inter. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way. So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber, where there was one rising oul of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew exceeding black ; also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony; so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack5 at an unusual rate, upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of hea- ven; they were all in flaming fire: also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, 'Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment;' and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward ; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains. 1 Co. xv. 52. 1 Th. iv. 1C. Jude 14. Jn. v. 28, 29 2 Th. i. 7, 8. Re. xx. 11-14. Is. xxvi. 21. ML vii. 16, 17. Ps. xcv. 1-3. Da. vii. io. Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar. Mai. hi. 2, 3. Da. ■rii. o, io. I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, ' Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubhle, and cast them into the burning lake.' Mat. iii.12; xiii. 30. Mai. iv. l. And with that, the bottomless pit opened, just whereahout I stood; out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons, ' Gather my wheat into the garner. ' Lu. m. n. And with that I saw quences of departing from God, and of being abandoned of him to the misery of unbelief and despair. — (Cheever.) 3 ' An everlasting caution ' — ' God help me to watch.' The battle with Apollyon, the dread valley, the trying scene at Vanity hair, the exhilarating victory over By-ends and Demas, dissipated the painful scene of the iron cage ; and want of prayerful caution led Christian into the dominion of Despair, and he became for a season the victim shut up in this ful ca°;e. Reader, may we be ever found ' looking unto Jesus,' then shall we be kept from Doubting Castle aud the iron cage. —(Ed.) . . 4 In the midst of these heavenly instructions, why in such haste to go ? Alas ! the burden of sin upon his back pressed him on to seek deliverance. — (Ed.) 6 'Rack;' driven violently by the wind.— (Ed.) 102 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. many catched up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind. 1 Th. iv, 16, 17. I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me: my sins also came into my mind ; and my conscience did accuse me on every side. Ro. u. 14, 15. Upon this I awaked from my sleep. Chr. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight ? Man. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was not ready for it: but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several, and left me behind ; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My conscience, too, afflicted me; and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing- indignation in his countenance.1 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all these things ? Chr. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear.2 Inter. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go. Then 1 We go about the world in the day-time, and are absorbed in earthly schemes ; the world is as bright as a rainbow, and it bears for us no marks or predictions ot the judgment, or of our sins; and conscience is retired, as it were, within a far inner circle of the soul. But when it comes night, and the pall of sleep is drawn over the senses, then conscience comes out solemnly, and walks about in the silent chambers of the soul, and makes her survey and her comments, and sometimes sits down and sternly reads the record of a life that the waking man would never look into, and the catalogue of crimes that are gathering for the judgment. Imagination walks trem- blingly behind her, and they pass through the open gate of the Scriptures into the eternal world — for thither all things in man's being naturally and irresistibly tend ; — and there, imagi- nation draws the judgment, the soul is presented at the bar of God, and the eye of the Judge is on it, and a hand of fire writes, ' Thou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting !' Our dreams sometimes reveal our character, our sins, our destinies, more clearly than our waking thoughts ; for by day the ener- gies of our being are turned into artificial channels, by night our thoughts follow the bent that is most natural to them ; and as man is both an immortal and a sinful being, the conse- quences both of his immortality and his sinfulness will some- times be made to stand out in overpowering light, when the busy pursuits of day are not able to turn the soul from wan- dering towards eternity. — (Cheever.) Bunyan profited much by dreams and visions. ' Even in my childhood the Lord did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions.' That is a striking vision of church- fellowship in the Grace Abounding, Kos. 53 — 56; aud an awful dream is narrated in the Greatness of the Soul — ' Once I dreamed that I saw two persons, whom I knew, in hell ; and methought I saw a continual dropping from heaven, as of great drops of fire lighting upon them, to their sore distress,' vol. i. p. L48.— (Ed.) 2 Our safety consists in a due proportion of hope and fear. When devoid of hope, we resemble a ship without an anchor ; when unrestrained by ftar, we are like the same vessel under full sail without ballast. True comfort is the effect of watch- fulness, diligence, and circumspection. What lessons could possibly have been selected of greater importance, or more suited to estabhsh the new convert, than these are which our author has most ingeniously and agreeably inculcated, under the emblem of the Interpreter's curiosities ? — (Scott.) Christian began to gird up his loins, aud to address himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Chris- tian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the City. So Christian went on his way, saying — 1 Here I have seen things rare and profitable ; Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have begun to take in haud j Then let me think on them, and understand Wherefore they showed me were, and let me be Thankful, 0 good Interpreter, to thee.' Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salva- tion, is. xxvi. i. Up this way, therefore, did bur- dened Christian run, but not without great diffi- culty, because of the load on his back.3 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, and upon that place stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do, till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more. Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said, with a merry heart, ' He hath men God r6> given me rest by his sorrow, and life leas;f «' owe ° J guilt aud burnVn, by his death. Then he stood still we are as those awhile to look and wonder; for it was eap or,,oy' very surprising to him, that the sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked, therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks. Zee. xii. io. * Now, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three Shining Ones came to him and saluted him with ' Peace be to thee.' So the first said to him, ' Thy sins be forgiven thee,' Mar. u. 5 ; the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him 'with change of raiment,' Zee. m. 4; the third also set a mark in his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he bade him look on as he ran, and that he should give it 8 This is an important lesson, that a person may be in Christ and yet have a deep sense of the burden of sin upon the soul. — (Cheever.) So also Bunyan — 'Every height is a difficulty to him that is loaden ; with a burden, how shall we attain the heaven of heavens?' — {Knowledge of Christ's Love.) 4 This efficacious sight of the cross is thus narrated in Grace Abounding, No. 115 : — 'Travelling in the country, and musing on the wickedness and blasphemy of my heart, that scripture came in my mind — " Having made peace through the blood of his cross." Col. i. 20. I saw that day again and again, that God and my soul were friends by his blood; yea, that the justice of God and my soul could embrace and kiss each other. Tins was a good day to me ; I hope I shall not forget it.' He was glad and lightsome, and had a merry heart ; he was before inspired with hope, but now he is a happy believer. — (En.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 103 in at the Celestial Gate. Ep. i. 13.1 So they went their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing — A Christian can sing though alone, when God doth give him the joy of his heart. : Thus far I did come laden with my sin ; Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in Till I came hither : What a place is this ! Must here he the beginning of my bliss? Must here the burden fall from off my back? Must here the strings that bound it to me crack? Blest cross ! blest sepulchre 1 blest rather be The man that there was put to shame for me!'2 I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, even until he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, Sloth, and Simple, another Sloth, and the third Presumption. Presumption. Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if perad venture he might awake them, and cried, You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea is under you — a gulf that hath no bottom. Pr. xxm. 34. Awake, there- fore, and come away ; be willing also, and I will help you off with your irons. He also told them, If he that ' goeth about like a roaring lion ' comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth. 1 Pe. v. 8. With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort : Simple said, ' I see There is no per- no danger;' Sloth said, ' Yet a little ifGod'openeth more sleep;' and Presumption said, not the eyes. « Every fat3 must stand upon its own 1 None but those who have felt such bliss, can imagine the joy with which this heavenly visitation fills the soul. The Father receives the poor penitent with, ' Thy sins be forgiven thee.' The Son clothes him with a spotless righteousness. ' The prodigal when he returned to his father was clothed with rags ; but the best robe is brought out, also the gold ring and the shoes ; yea, they are put upon him to his rejoicing.' — {Come and Welcome,vol. i.p. 265.) The Holy Spirit gives him a certificate; thus described by Bunyan in the Rouse of God:— ' But bring with thee a certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate; Writ by the master, with repentance seal'd; > To show also, that here thou wonld'st be healed By those fair leaves of that most blessed tree By which alone poor sinners healed be : 2 And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways, And would'st in holiness spend all thy days ; 3 And here be entertained; or thou wilt find To entertain thee here are none inclined.' Vol. ii. p. 580. Such a certificate, written upon the heart by the Holy Spiiit, may be lost for a season, as in the arbour on the hill, but can- not be stolen even by Taint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt. For the mark in his forehead, see 2 Co. iii. 2, 3 ; ' not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God, known and read of all men.' — (Ed.) 2 He that has come to Christ, has cast his burden upon him. By faith he hath seen himself released thereof; but he that is but coming, hath it yet, as to sense and feeling, upon his own shoulders. — {Come and Welcome, vol. i. p. 264.) 3 ' Fat;' a vessel in which things are put to be soaked, or to ferment ; a vat. — (Ed.) 1 Ac. ix. 26, 27. 2 Re. xxi. 27. 3 He. xxii. 14, 15. See also 1 Eph. i. 13. 2 Re. raii. 2. s Job xlii 6. Tit. ii 12—14. bottom; what is the answer else that I should give thee V And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way. Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by awak- ening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons.4 And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men come tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of the narrow way ; and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with christian talked them into discourse. Wltli thcm- Chr. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither go you ? Form, and Hyp. We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are going for praise to Mount Sion. Chr. Why came you not in at the gate, which standeth at the beginning of the way ? Know you not that it is written, that he that cometh not in by the door, ' but cliinbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber ? ' Jn. x. 1. Form, and Hyp. They said, That to go to the gate for entrance was, by all their countrymen, counted too far about ; and that, therefore, their usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as they had done. Chr. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will ? Form, and Hyp. They told him, that, as for that, he needed not to trouble his They that come head thereabout; for what they did, butnotbytffe they had custom for ; and could pro- floor.ttinkthat J \ r they can say duce,ifneed were, testimony that would something in . „ ., ,, j vindication of witness it lor more than a thousand tueirownprac- years. tlce- Chr. But, said Christian, will your practice stand- a trial at law ? Form, and Hyp. They told him, That custom, it being of so long a standing as above a thousand years, would, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal by any impartial judge; and beside, said they, if we get into the way, what's matter whicli way we get in ? if we are in, we are in ; thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate ; and we are also in the way, that came 4 No sooner has Christian 'rereived Christ' than he at once preaches to the sleeping sinners the great salvation, lie stays not for human calls or ordination, but attempts to awaken 1 them to a sense of their danger, and presently exhorts with authority the formalist and hypocrite. So it was in the per- I sonal experience of Bunyan ; after which, when his brethren ! discovered his talent, they invited him to preach openly and ] constantly. Dare any one find fault with that conduct, which I proved so extensively useful ?— (Ed.) 104 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. tumbling over the wall; wherein, now, is thy condition better than ours ? Chr. I walk by the rule of my Master; you walk by the rude working of your fancies. You are counted thieves already, by the Lord of the way ; therefore, I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in by your- selves, without his direction ; and shall go out by yourselves, without his mercy.1 To this they made him but little answer ; only they bid him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every man in his way, without much conference one with another ; save that these two men told Christian, that as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but they should as conscien- tiously do them as he ; therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us, but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow,2 given thee by some of thy neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. Chr. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in by the door. Ga. u. ig. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the place whither I go ; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token of his kindness to me; for I had nothing but rags before. And, besides, thus I comfort myself as I go : Surely, think I, Christian has wlien 1 COme to tlle £ate of the <%> got Lis Lord's the Lord thereof will know me for coat on his . . back, ar.a is good, since I have his coat on my therewith; lie hack — a coat that he gave me freely also^tffi in tlie day tliat ^e stripped me of my mark and his rags. I have, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which, perhaps, you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll, sealed, to comfort me by reading, as I go on the way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in token of my certain going in after it ; all which things, I doubt, you want, and want them because you came not in at the gate. To these things they gave him no answer ; only they looked upon each other, and laughed.3 Then 1 The formalist has only the shell of religion ; he is hot for forms, because it is all that he has to contend for. The hypo- crite is for God and Baal too ; he can throw stones with both hands. He carries fire in one hand, and water in the other. —{Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 3S9.) These men range from sect to sect, like wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever. They are ban-en trees; and the axe, whetted by sin and the law, will make deep gashes. Death sends Guilt, his first-born, to bring them to the King of terrors. — {Barren Fig-tree.) 2 'We trow;' we believe or imagine -. from the Saxon. See Imperial Dictionary. — (Ed.) 3 These men occupied the seat of the scorner ; they had always been well dressed. His coat might do for such a raga- muffin as he had been ; but they needed no garment but their I saw that they went on all, save that Christian kept before, who had no more talk „ . . ■. . „ , Christian has but with himself, and that sometimes talk with him- sighingly and sometimes comfort- se ' ably;4 also he would be often reading in the roll that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed. I beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the Hill Difficulty ; ne comes to the at the bottom of which spring. There were also in the same place two other ways besides that which came straight from the gate ; one turned to the left hand, and the other to the right, at the bottom of the hill ; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and the name of the going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the spring, and drank thereof, to refresh himself, is. xiix. 10, and then began to go up the hill, saying — ' The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, The difficulty will not me offend ; For I perceive the way to life lies here. Come, pluck up heart, let 's neither faint nor fear ; Better, though difficult, the right way to go, Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.' The other two also came to the foot of the hill ; but when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go ; and supposing also that these two ways might meet again, with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill ; therefore they were resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way which is called Danger, which led him into a The dan„er of great wood, and the other took direct- tinning out of ly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more.5 ouTi righteousness — the forms of their church. The mark, or certificate of the new birth, was an object of scom to them. Probably they pitied him as a harmless mystic, weak in mind and illiterate. Alas 1 how soon was their laughter turned into mourning. Fear and calamity overwhelmed them. They trusted in themselves, and there was none to deliver. — (Ed.) 4 The Christian can hold no communion with a mere formal professor. The Christian loves to be speaking of the Lord's grace and goodness, of his conflicts and consolations, of the Lord's dealings with his soul, and of the blessed confidence which he is enabled to place in him. — (J. B.) 6 Such is the fate of those who keep their sins with their profession, and will not encounter difficulty in cutting them off. ' Not all their pretences of seeking after and praying to God will keep them from falling and splitting themselves in sunder.' — (A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity) There are heights that build themselves up in us, and exalt them- selves to keep the knowledge of God from our hearts. They oppose and contradict our spiritual understanding of God and his Christ. These are the dark mountains at which we should certainly stumble and fall, but for one who can leap and skip over them to our aid. — (Saints' Knowledge of Christ' I Love, vol. ii. p. 8.) THE riLC RIM'S PROGRESS. 105 I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clamhering upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now, ahout the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant arhour, made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing of weary travellers ; thither, therefore, Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him. Then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he also now began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep,1 which detained him in that place until it was almost night ; and in his lie (hat sleeps sleep his roll fell out of his hand.2 is a loser. Now, as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and awaked him, saying, ' Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise.' rr.vi. 6. And with that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace, till he came to the top of the hill. Now, when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men running to meet him amain ; Christian meet. t,le IiamC °f the 0ne WaS TimOTOBS, «ith Mistrust and of the other Mistrust ; to whom and Timorous, ^i • • • i o- 1 > i Christian said, feirs, what s the mat- ter? You run the wrong way. Timorous answered, that they were going to the City of Zion, and had got up that difficult place ; but, said he, the further we go, the more danger we meet with ; Avherefore we turned, and are going back again.3 Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions in the way, whether sleeping or waking we know not, and we could not think, if we came within reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces. Cm;. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but whither shall I fly to be safe ? If I go back to mine own country, that is prepared for fire and brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there. If I can get to the Celestial City, I am sure to he in Christian shakes safety there. I must venture. To go off fear. ^^ jg not],ing Dut death ; to go for- ward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it. 1 Pleased with the gifts of grace, rather than with the gra- cious giver, pride secretly creeps in ; and we fall first into a sinful self-complacence, and then into indolence and security This is intended by his falling fast asleep. — (Dr. I>odd.) - Sinful sloth deprives the Christian of his comforts. What he intended only for a moment's nap, like a man asleep during sermon-time in church, became a deep sleep, and his roll fell out of his hand ; and yet he ran well while there was nothing special to alarm him. Religious privileges should refresh aud not puff up. — (Chcevcr.) 3 But why go back again ? That is the next way to hell. Never go over hedge and ditch to hell. They that miss life perish, because they will not let go their sins, or have no saving faith. — (Bunyau's Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 38S.) VOL. III. I will yet go forward.4 So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill, and Christian went on his way. But, thinking again of what he beard from the men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be comforted; but ChriiHanrnmed he felt, and found it not. Then was j* jg^STJ; Christian in great distress, and knew taaeoomfwt not what to do; for he wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass into the Celestial City. Here, therefore, he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do.5 At last, he bethought himself, that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side Heiapa of the hill ; and, falling down upon his for Lls roU knees, he asked God forgiveness for that his foolish fact, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart! Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus therefore he went back, carefully looking on this side, and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus, Christiim be_ till he came again within sight of the wail- hi* tooi- arbour where he sat and slept ; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bring- ing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. Re. it 5. l Th. v. 7, 8. Thus, therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, ' 0 wretched man that I am !' that I should sleep in the day-time ! that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims!6 How many steps have I took in vain ! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin ; they were sent 4 To -go forward is attended with the fear of death, but eternal life is beyond. I must venture. My hill was further: so 1 slung away, Yit beard a cry Just as I went, ' None poos that way And lives.' If that be all, said 1, Alter so foul a journey, death is fair And hut a chair. — (G. Herbert's Templt.—The Tilgnmagr.) 6 Vc is perplexed for his roll ; this is right. If we Buffi r spiritual loss, and are easy and unconcerned about it, it is a sad sign that we indulge carnal security and vain coi.: — (Mason.) 6 The backslider is attended with fears end doubts, such as he felt not before, built on the vileness of his backsliding; more dreadful scriptures look him in the fare, with their dreadful physiognomy. His new sins all tarn talking devils threatening devils, roaring devils, within him. Besides, he doubts the truth of his first conversion, and thus adds lead to his heels in returning to God by Christ. He can tell stories, and yet such as arc very' true. No man can tell what u to be seen and felt in the whale's belly but Jonah.— (1' Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. i p 224-) 11 106 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. back again by the way of the Red Sea ; and T am made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time ! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod but once ; yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent. 0 that I had not slept ! Now by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept ; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking Christian find- sorrowfully down under the settle, there wnerehhe tost he esPied his ro11 5 tlie which he> with jt- trembling and haste, catched up, and put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joy- ful this man was when he had gotten his roll again ! for this, roll was the assurance of his life and ac- ceptance at the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But 0 how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian ; and this made him again recal the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again began to condole with himself. 0 thou sinful sleep ! how, for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my journey ! I must walk without the sun ; darkness must cover the path of my feet ; and I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, be- cause of my sinful sleep, l Th. v. 6, 7. Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the night for their prey ; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift them ? How should I escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscar- riage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful ; and it stood just by the highway side.1 So I saw in my dream, that he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off of the porter's lodge ; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way.2 Now, thought he, I see the dangers 1 ' Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Ziou ; God is known in her palaces for a refuge.' Those who enter must joyfully submit to the laws and ordinances of this house. — (Andronicus.) 2 The two lions, civil despotism and ecclesiastical tyranny, terrified many young converts, when desirous of joining a Christian church, here represented by the Beautiful Palace. In the reign of the Tudors they committed sad havoc. In Buuyan's time, they were chained, so that few suffered martyr- that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them, for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, Is thy strength so small ? Mar. xm. 34-37. Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that have none. Keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee. Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter ; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate, where the porter was. Then said Christian to the porter, Sir, what house is this ? and may I lodge here to- night ? The porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was, and whither he was going. Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am going to Mount Zion ; but because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. Por. What is your name ? Ciir. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless ; I came of the race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem. Ge. ix. 27. Por. But how doth it happen that you come so late? The sun is set. Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, 'wretched man that I am!' I slept in the arbour that stands on the hill-side ; nay, I had, notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that, in my sleep, I lost my evidence, and came without it to the brow of the hill ; and then feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced, with sorrow of heart, to go back to the place where I slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I am come. Por. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family, according to the rules of the house. So Watchful, the porter, rang a bell, at the sound of which came out at the door dom, although many were ruined, imprisoned, and perished in dungeons. When Faithful passed they were asleep. It was a short cessation from persecution. In the Second Part, Great- heart slew Giant Bloody-man, who backed the lions ; probably referring to the wretched death of that monster, Judge Jefferies. And in the experience of Mr. Fearing, it is clear that the Hill Difficulty and the lions were intended to represent temporal and bodily troubles, and not spiritual difficulties : — ' When we came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions ; for you must know that his trouble was not about such tilings as these j his fear was about his acceptance at last.' — (En.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 107 of the house, a grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called. The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being weary and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to-night; so I told him I would call for thee, who, after discourse had with him, mayest do as Beemeth thee good, even according to the law of the house. Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he was going ; and he told her. She asked him also how he got into the way ; and he told her. Then she asked him what he had seen and met with in the way ; and he told her. And last she asked his name ; so he said, It is Christian, and 1 have so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, because, by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill, for the relief and security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes ; and after a little pause, she said, 1 will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more dis- course with him, had him into the family ; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the house, said, ' Come in, thou blessed of the Lord;' this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in.1 Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together, that until supper was ready, some of them should 1 Christian, after feeling the burden of sin, entering by Christ the gate, taught by the Holy Spirit lessons of high concern in the Bible or House of the Interpreter; after losing his burden by faith in his crucilicd Saviour, his sins pardoned, clothed with his Lord's righteousness, marked by a godly profession, he becomes fit for church-fellowship ; is invited by Bishop Giflbrd, the porter; and, with the consent of the inmates, he enters the house called Beautiful. Mark, reader, not as essential to salvation ; it is by the side of the road, not across it ; all that was essential had taken place before. Faithful did not enter. Here is no compulsion either to enter or pay : that would have converted it into the house of arrogance or persecu- tion. It is upon the Hill Difficulty, requiring personal, willing efforts to scramble up; and holy zeal and courage to bear the taunts of the world and the growling frowns of the lions. Here he has new lessons to learn of Discretion, Piety, Prudence, and Charity, to bear with his fellow-members, ami they with him ; and here he is armed for his journey. Many are the blessed enjoyments of church-fellowship. ' Esther was had to the house of the women to be puritied, aud so came to the king. God also hath appointed that those who come into his royal presence should lir^t go to the house of the w omen, the church.' (See Bunyan's Greatness of the boul, vol. i. p. 146.) Every soul must be fitted for the royal presence, usually in church- fellowship : but these lovely maidens sometimes wait on and instruct those who never enter the house Beautiful; who belong to the church universal, but not to any local body of Christians. John directs hia Revelations to the seven churches in Asia; Paul, his epistles to the churches in Galatia, or to the church at Corinth — all distinct bodies of Christians ; James to the twelve tribes ; and Peter to the strangers, and ' to them that Lave obtained like precioup faith,' of all churches. — (Ed.) have some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity to discourse with him ; and thus they began : Piety. Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving to you, to receive you Hetytowimc. into our house this night, let us, if )""' perhaps we may better ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you in your pilgrimage. Ciir. With a very good will, and I am glad that you are so well disposed. PlETY. What moved you at first to betake your- self to a pilgrim's life V Cur. I was driven out of my native country, by a dreadful sound that was in mine llow Christian ears ; to wit, that unavoidable destruc- ",:u ^T"^ tion did attend me, if I abode iu that ^^o- place where I was. Piety. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way ? Chr. It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go ; but by chance there came a man, even to me, as I was trembling and How he got into weeping, whose name is Evangelist, uiewaytoZinu and he directed me to the wicket-gate, which else I should. never have found, and so set me into the way that hath led me directly to this house. Piety. But did you not come by the house of the Interpreter ? Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will stick by me as long as I live ; especially three things, to wit, , , , , i o, • • i • oo • A rehearsal of now Christ, in despite ot bataii, main- what he saw in tains his work of grace in the heart ; L wsy' how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come. Piety. Why, did you hear him tell his dream? Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made my heart ache as he was telling of it ; but yet I am glad I heard it. Piety. Was that all that you saw at the house of the Interpreter ? Chr. No; he took me and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were in it ; and how there came a venturous man and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him out ; and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart .' 1 would have staid at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but that 1 knew I had further to go. Piety. And what saw you else in the way ? Cim. Saw ! why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the tree ; and the vevy sight of him made my 103 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a very heavy burden), but then it fell down from off me. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before ; yea, and while I stood looking up, for then I could not forbear looking, three Shining Ones came to me. One of them testified that my sins were forgiven me ; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll (And with that he plucked it out of his bosom.) Piety. But you saw more than this, did you not ? CiiR. The things that I have told you were the best, yet some other matters I saw, as, namely, I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their heels ; but do you think I could awake them? I also saw Formality and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pre- tended, to Zion, but they were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them ; but they would not be- lieve. But above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions' mouths ; and truly if it had not been for the good man, the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know but that after all I might have gone back again ; but now, I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me. Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and desired his answer to them. Prudence dis- Prud. Do you not think sometimes courses him. 0f the country from whence you came ? Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detesta- Christian's tion : ' truty if I had Deen mindful of thoughts of ids that country from whence I came out, native country. T • 1 1 1 1 1 might have had opportunity to have returned ; but now I desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.' He. xi. 15, 16. Prud. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you were conversant withal ? Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; espe- Christian dis- cia% my inward and carnal cogita- tasted with car- tions, with which all my countrymen, nal cogitations. J J > as well as myself, were delighted ; but now all those things are my grief ; and might I but choose mine own things, I would choose never christian's to think of those things more; but choice. when j woui(j be doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with me. Ro. vii. Prud. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity? Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they Christian's are to me golden hours, in which such golden hours, things happen to me.1 1 The true Christian's inmost feelings will best explain these answers, which no exposition can elucidate to those who Prud. Can you remember by what means yon find your annoyances, at times, as if they were vanquished ? Chr. Yes; when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it ; and when I look upon How christian my broidered coat, that will do it; %£JZ?c£. also when I look into the roll that I options, carry in my bosom, that will do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.2 Prud. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion ? Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross ; and there TO, _ . u I hope to be rid of all those things would be at xi ,. . xi • j • Mount Sion. that to this day are in me an annoy- ance to me ; there, they say, there is no death ; and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. is. xxv. a Re. xxi. 4. For, to tell you truth, I love him, because I was by him eased of my bur- den ; and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company that shall continually cry, ' Holy, holy, holy.' Then said Charity to Christian, Have charity dis- you a family ? Are you a married man ? courses him- Chr. I have a wife and four small children.3 Char. And why did you not bring them along with you? Chr. Then Christian wept, and said, 0 how willinsrlv would I have done it ! but „.. .. , , *s -1 Christian's love they were all of them utterly averse to his wife and ., . children. to my going on pilgrimage. Char. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to have shown them the danger of being behind. Chr. So I did ; and told them also what God had shown to me of the destruction of our city ; ' but I seemed to them as one that mocked, ' and they believed me not. Ge. six. u. Char. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them ? Chr. Yes, and that with much affection; for you must think that my wife and poor children were very dear unto me. are unacquainted with the conflict to which they refer. The golden hours, fleeting and precious, are earnests of the ever- lasting holy felicity of heaven. — (Scott.) 2 The only true mode of vanquishing carnal thoughts is look- ing at Christ crucified, or dwelling upon his dying love, the robe of righteousness which clothes his naked soul, his roll or evidence of his interest, and the glory and happiness of heaven ! Happy souls who thus oppose their corruptions! — (Dr. Dodd.) 3 This was the fact as it regards Bunyau when he was writing the ' Pilgrim.' He had a wife, two sons, and two daughters. This conversation was first published in the second edition, 1678 ; and if he referred to his own family, it was to his second wife, a most worthy and heroic woman ; but she and some of his children were fellow-pilgrims with him. His eldest son was a preacher eleven years before the Second Part of the ' Pilgrim' was published. — (Ed.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 109 Char. "Rut did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction? for I suppose that destruc- tion was visible enough to you. Cur. Yes, over, and over, and over. They Christian'. fears nliSht *ls0 8<-'° "V &»« iu my COUI1- shina tenance, in my tears, and also in my in his v,."v trembling under the apprehension of Kraataunce. the jU(igluent tliat did hang over our beads; but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me. CHAR. But what could they say for themselves, why they came not? Chr. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this The cause why world, and my children were given to !uvu tilfgo the foolish delights of youth; so what with him. Dy one thing, and what by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone. Char. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all that you by words used by way of per- suasion to bring them away with you?1 Chr. Indeed, I cannot commend my life; for I am conscious to myself of many failings therein ; 1 know also, that a man by his conversation may soon overthrow, what by argument or persuasion he doth labour to fasten upon others for their good. Christian's good Yet this I can say, I was very wary SmviiT^d of gfrmg them occasion, by any un- chiidren. seemly action, to make them averse to going on pilgrimage.2 Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me I was too precise, and that I denied myself of things, for their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think I may say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it was my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour. Char. Indeed Cain hated his brother, 'because his own works were evil, and his brother's right- eous,' 1 Jn. m. 12; and if thy wife and children have " . .. , been offended with thee for this, thev Christian clear . - of their blood thereby show themselves to be im- placable to good, and ' thou hast de- livered thy soul from their blood.' Eze. iii. 19. Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was ready.3 So 1 0 soul ! consider this deeply. It is the life of a Christian that carries more conviction anil persuasion than his words. — (Mason.) 2 Those that religiously name the name of Christ, and do not depart from iniquity, cause the perishing of many. A pro- fessor that hath not forsaken his iniquity is like one that comes out of a pest-house to his home, with all his plague-sores running. He hath the breath of a dragon, and poisons the air round about him. 'Ihis is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friends, and himself. 0 1 the millstone that God will shortly hang about your necks, when you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath. — (Bunyan's Holy Life, vol. ii. p. 530.) 3 How beautiful must that church be where Watchful is the porter; where Discretion admits the members; where Pru- dence takes the oversight ; where Piety conducts the worship ; aud where Charity endears the members one to another ! They What Christian SU]). when they had made ready, they sat down to meat Now the table was furnished ' with fat things, and with wine that was well b refined : ' and all their talk at the table p* was about the Lord of the hill ; as, namely, about what he had done, and wherefore he Their talk at did what he did, and why he had «WPer-*«ne. budded that house. And by what they said, I perceived that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain ' him that had the power of death,' but not without great danger to himself, which made me love him the more.4 He. ii. 14, |& For, as they said, and as I believe (said Chris- tian), he did it with the loss of much blood ; but that which put glory of grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his country. And besides, there were some of them of the household that said they had been and spoke with him since he did die on the cross ; and they have attested that they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west. They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory, that he might do this for the poor ; anil that they heard him say and affirm, ' that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone.' They said, moreover, that he had made Ch . . , many pilgrims princes, though by na- princes of beg- ture they were beggars born, and their original had been the dunghill, l Sa. ii. 8. Ps. cxiii. 7. Thus they discoursed together till late at night ; and after they had committed themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest : the Pilgrim they laid in a large upper christian's bed- chamber, whose window opened toward chamber, the sun-rising ; the name of the chamber was Peace ;s where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sanp-6 — partake of the Lord's Supper, a feast of fat things, with wine well refined.— (J. B.) 4 Ah ! theirs was converse such a9 it behoves Man to maintain, and such as God approves — Christ and his character their only scope, Their subject, aud their object, aud their hope. 0 days of heaven, and nights of equal praise 1 Serene and peaceful as those heavenly days When souls drawn upwards in cominuniou sweet, Enjoy the stillness of some close retreat, Discourse, as if releas'd and safe at home, Of dangers past, and wonders yet to come. — (Cowper.) * When Christiana and her party arrived at this house Beautiful, she requested that they might repose in the same chamber, called Peace, which was granted. The author, in his marginal note, explains the nature of this resting-place by the words, ' Christ's bosom is for all pilgrims.' — (Ed.) 0 How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft Shot 'thwart the earth 1 In crown of living lire TJp comes the day ! As if they, couscious, quuff'd The sunny flood, hill, forest, city, spire, Laugh in the wakening light. Go, vain Desire ! The^dusky lights have gone ; go thou thy way 1 110 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Where am I now? Is this the love and care Of Jesus for the meu that pilgrims are ? Thus to provide ! that I should be forgiven ! And dwell already the next door to heaven ! So, in the morning, they all got up ; and after some more discourse, they told him that he should not depart till they had shown him the rarities of Christian had that place. And first, they had him and ^hafhe into the study, where they showed him saw there. records of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I remember my dream, they showed him first the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the son of the Ancient of Days, and came by that eternal generation. Here also was more fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his ser- vice ; and how he had placed them in such habita- tions, that could neither by length of days, nor decays of nature, be dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done : as, how they bad ' subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.' He. xi. 33, 34. They then read again in another part of the records of the house, where it was showed how willing their Lord was to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great affronts to his person and proceedings. Here also were several other histories of many other famous things, of all which Christian had a view ; as of things both ancient and modern ; together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims. The next day they took him and had him into the armoury, where they showed him all manner of Christian had famHure, which their Lord had pro- iuto the ar- vided for pilgrims, as sword, sheild, helmet, breastplate, all -prayer, and shoes that would not wear out.1 And there was And pining Discontent, like them expire ! Be called my chamber Peace, when ends the day, And let me, with the dawn, like Pilgrim, sing and pray. Great is the Lord our God, And let his praise be great : He makes his churches his abode, His most delightful seat.— (Dr. Watts.) 1 Should you see a man that did not go from door to door, but he must be clad in a coat of mail, and have a helmet of brass upon his head, and for his life-guard not so lew as a thousand men to wait on him, would you not say, Surely this man has store of enemies at hand ? If Solomon used to have about his bed no less than threescore of the valiautest of Israel, holding swords, and being expert in war, what guard and safe- guard doth God's people need, who are, night and day, roared here enough of this to harness out as many men, for the service of their Lord, as there be stars in the heaven for multitude.2 They also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants had done wonderful things. They showed him Moses' Christiania rod ; the hammer and nail with which made to see Jael slew Sisera ; the pitchers, trum- pets, and lamps too, with which Gibeon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They showed him, also, the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats. They showed him, moreover, the sling and stone with which David slew Goliah of Gath ; and the sword, also, with which their Lord will kill the Man of Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed him, besides, many excellent things, with which Christian was much delighted. This done, they went to their rest again.3 Then I saw in my dream, that, on the morrow, he got up to go forward ; but they desired him to stay till the next day also ; and then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show christian show. you the Delectable Mountains,4 which, table M0Un-eC" they said, would yet further add to tams- his comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was ; so he consented and staid. When the morning was up, they had him to the top of the house, and bid him look south ; so he did ; and, behold, at a great distance, he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, very delectable to behold, is. miii. 16, 17. Then he on by the unmerciful fallen angels ? Why, they lie in wait for poor Israel in every hole, and he is for ever in danger of being either stabbed or destroyed. — (Bunyan's Israel's Hope, vol. i. p. 602.) 2 Christ himself is the Christian's armoury. When he puts on Christ, he is then completely armed from head to foot. Are his loins girt about with truth ? Christ is the truth. Has he on the breastplate of righteousness ? Christ is our right- eousness. Are his feet shod with the gospel of peace ? Christ is our peace. Does he take the shield of faith, and helmet of salvation ? Christ is that shield, and all our salvation. Does he take the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God ? Christ is the Word of God. Thus he puts on the Lord Jesus Christ ; by his Spirit fights the fight of faith ; and, in spite of meu, of devils, and of his own evil heart, lays hold of eternal life. Thus Christ is all in all.— (J. B.) 3 The church in the wilderness, even her porch, is full of pillars — apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There are hung up also the shields that the old warriors used, and on the walls are painted the brave achievements they have done. There, also, are such encouragements that one would think that none who came thither would ever attempt to go back. Yet some forsake the place. — (Bunyan's House of Lebanon) 4 The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent those distinct views of the privileges and consolations, attainable in this life, with which believers are sometimes favoured. This is the pre-eminent advantage of Christian communion, and can only be enjoyed at some special seasons, when the Sun of Right- eousness sluues upon the soul. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ill asked the name of the country. They said it was lmmanuel's Land ; and it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence, said they, thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make appear. Now, he bethought himself of setting forward, christian sets nid they were willing he should. But forward. flrstt sti^ tney> jet us go again into the armoury. So they did ; and when they came christian sent there, they harnessed him from head away armed. to foofc w;tn wnat wa3 0f ^rooff lest> perhaps, he should meet with assaults in the way. He being, therefore, thus accoutred, walketh out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by. Then the porter answered, Yes. Chr. Pray, did you know him ? said he. For. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful. Chr. 0, said Christian, I know him ; he is my townsman, my near neighbour ; he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you think he may be before ? Por. He is got by this time below the hill. Chr. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the How Christian Lord be with thee, and add to all thy ereet 'at part- blessings much increase, for the kind- ms- ness that thou hast showed to me. Then he began to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then, said Chris- tian, as it was difficult coming up, so, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is, for it is a hard matter for a man The Vaiky of to go down into the Valley of Ilumili- UuniUiauon. atJ0Q> ag tj10U art now% an(J to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two.1 1 Thus it is, after a pilgrim has been favoured with any special and peculiar blessings, there is danger of his being pulled up by them, and exalted on account of them ; so was even holy Paul ; therefore, the messenger of Satan was per- mitted to buffet him. 2 Co. xii. 7- — (Mason.) "We are not told here what these slips were ; but when Christian narrates the battle to Hopeful, he lets us iuto the secret: — ' These three villains,' Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, ' set upon me, and I beginning, like a Christian, to resist, they gave but a call, and in came their master. I would, as the saying is, have given my life for a penny, but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with armour of proof.' In the Second Part, Great-heart attri- buted the sore combat with Apollyon to have arisen from ' the fruit of those slips that he got in going down the hill.' Great enjoyments need the most prayerful watchfulness iD going down from them, lest those three villains cause us to slip. Christian's heavenly enjoyment in the communion of saints was lollowed by his humbling adventures in the valley — a needful Then I saw in my dream that these good com- panions, when Christian was gone to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins ; and then he went on his way. But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it ; for he had gone hut a little way, before he espied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him ; his name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or to stand his ground. But he considered again that Chri8tiimnoa he had no armour for his back ; and, mour for his therefore, thought that to turn the back to him might give him the greater advantage, with ease to pierce him with his darts.2 Therefore he resolved to venture and stand his Christian's re- ground; for, thought he, had I no ^hat «£ more in mine eye than the saving of Apollyon. my life, it would be the best way to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold ; he was clothed with scales, like a fish (and they are his pride), he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion.3 When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him. Apol. Whence come you ? and whither are you bound ? Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all evil, and am going to the City of Zion. Afol. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects, for all that country is mine, KilC0XiTse bc_ and I am the prince and god of it. twixtChristiaa How is it, then, that thou hast run away from thy king ? Were it not that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now, at one blow, to the ground. Chr. I was born, indeed, in your dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not live on, ' for the wages of sin proof of Divine love to his soul. ' Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.' — (Eu.) 'A broken heart, 0 God, thou wilt not despise.' Has he given it to thee, my reader ? Then he has given thee a cabinet to hold his grace in. True, it is painful now, it is sorrowful, it bleeds, it sighs, it sobs. Well, very well ; all this is because he has a mind that thou mayest rejoice in heaven. — (Banyan's Accejdahle Sacrifice.) 2 ' No armour for his back ;' to desist is inevitable ruin, lie sees no safety except in facing his enemy. Fear itself creates additional courage, and induces him to stand his ground. — (Drayton.) 3 The description of Apollyon is terrible. This dreadful imagery is collected from various parts of Scripture, where the attributes of the most terrible animals are given him ; the attributes of leviathan, the dragon, the lion, and the bear ; to denote his strength, his pride, bis rage, his coura-e, aud bin cruelty. — (Andronicus.) 112 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. is death,' Ro. vi 23; therefore, when I was come to years, I did as other considerate persons do, look out, if, perhaps, I might mend myself. Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly Apoiiyon's flat- lose lns subjects,1 neither will I as tery- yet lose thee; but since thou corn- plainest of thy service and wages, he content to go hack ; what our country will afford, I do here promise to give thee. Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes ; and how can I, with fairness, go hack with thee ? AroL. Thou hast done in this according to the . „ , proverb, ' Changed a bad for a worse ;' Apollyon under- r . . t /» values Christ's but it is ordinary for those that have professed themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well. Ciir. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to him ; how, then, can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor ? Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I Apollyon pre- am wiUirlg t0 PaSS hJ all» if D0W tll0U tends to be wilt yet turn again and go back. Chr. What I promised tbee was in my nonage ;2 and, besides, I count the Prince under whose banner now I stand is able to absolve me ; yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee ; and besides, 0 thou destroying Apollyon ! to speak truth, I like his service, his wages, his servants, his government, his company, and country, better than thine ; and, therefore, leave off to persuade me further ; I am his servant, and I will follow him. Apol. Consider again, when thou art in cool , , blood, what thou art like to meet with Apollyon pleads ' the gnevous in the way that thou goest. Tnou tians, to dis" knowest that, for the most part, his fcm&omw^ servants come to an ill end, be- sisting in lus cause they are transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths ! and, besides, thou countest his service better than mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where he is to deliver any that served him out of their bauds ; but as for me, how many times, as all the 1 In our days, when emigration is so encouraged by the state, it may be difficult for some youthful readers to under- stand this argument of Apoiiyon's. In Bunyan's time, every subject was deemed to be Crown property, and no one dared depart the realm without a license. Thus, when Cromwell and his heroes had hired ships, and were ready to start for America, Charles I. providentially detained them, to work out the great Revolution. — (Ed.) 2 Promises or vows, whether made by us or by others on our behalf, before we possessed powers of reason or reflection, cannot be binding. The confirmation or rejection of all vows made by or for us in our nonage, should, on arriving at years, of discretion, be our deliberate choice, for we must recollect that no personal dedication can be acceptable to God unless it is the result of solemn inquiry. — Ed. world very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them ; and so I will deliver thee. Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end ; and as for the ill end thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their account; for, for present deliverance, they do not much expect it, for they stay for their glory, and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in his and the glory of the angels. Apol. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him ; and how dost thou think to receive wages of him ? Chr. Wherein, 0 Apollyon ! have I been unfaithful to him ? Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choked in the Gulf Apollyon pleads of Despond ; thou didst attempt wrong fSf s in- ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas against him. thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off; thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice thing; thou wast, also, almost persuaded to go back, at the sight of the lions ; and when thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast beard and seen, thou art inwardly desirous of vain-glory in all that thou sayest or doest.3 Chr. All this is true, and much more which thou has left out ; but the* Prince, whom I serve and honour, is merciful, and ready to forgive ; but, besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy country, for there I sucked them in ; and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince.4 3 Mark the subtlety of this gradation in temptation. The profits of the world and pleasures of sin are held out as allure- ments. The apostasy of others suggested. The difficulties, dangers, and sufferings of the Lord's people, are contrasted with the prosperity of sinners. The recollections of our sins and backslidings, under a profession of religion. The supposi- tion that all our profession is founded in pride and vain-glory. All backed by our own consciences ; as if Apollyon strad- dled quite across the way, and stopped us from going on. — (Andronicus.) 4 This dialogue is given, in different words, in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, vol. i. pp. 79. 80. Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. What, my true servant, quoth he, my old servaut, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now ? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost thou think to find mercy now ? Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now ? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at heaven's gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it ? Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply ? saith the tempted. Why, I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how ? No, saith he, I said, I am Magdalene, I am Zaceheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ's mur- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 113 Afol. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous Apollyon in . "S"0' SW"S> l am aU "W"! t0 th'3 r>i:.'r fails upon Prince ; I hate his person, his laws, ChrUUan. l i T ami people ; 1 am come out on pur- pose to withstand thee. Cim. Apollyon, beware what you do ; for I am in the king's highway, the way of holiness ; there- fore take heed to yourself. ArOL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter: prepare thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal den. that thou shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul. And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast ;l but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. Then did Christian draw ; for he saw it was time to bestir him : and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail ; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to „. . .. avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his wounded in his head, his hand, and foot. This made faith, and con- Christian give a little back ; Apollyon, venation. therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent ; for you must know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began Apollyon cast- to gather up close to Christian, and the ground the wrestling with him, gave him a dread- Christian. fui fan . anj with t]iat) Christian's sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now.2 And with that he had almost pressed him to death ; so that Christian began to despair of life: but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, derers— yea, worse thau any of these ; and yet God was so far oil' from rejecting of rne, as I found afterwards, that there was music and dancing in his house lor me, and for joy that I was coine home unto him. When Satan charged Luther with a long list of crimes, he replied, This is all true ; but write another line at the bottom, 'The blood of Jesus Christ his Son eleanseth us from all sin.' — (Ed). 1 The devil is that great and dogged leviathan, that ' spread- eth sharp pointed things upon the mire.' Job xL 30. For be the spreading nature of our corruptions never so broad, he will find sharp pointed things enough to stick in the mire of them for our affliction ; they are called fiery darts, and he has abundance of them with which he can and will sorely prick and wound our spirits. — (Buuyan on Christ's Love, vol. ii. p. 65.) - When infidel thoughts prevail, so that doubts of the truth of Scripture take hold of the mind, the sword of the Spirit flies out of the hand. Unarmed before a ferocious enemy, it was an awful moment; but God revives his faith in the Divine Word, he recovers his sword, and gi\ es his eueuvy a deadly plunge — I shall rise. — (Drayton.) YOL. III. Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, ' Rejoice not against me, 0 mine enemy : when I fall, 1 i ii • , i . , , Christian''? shall arise, Mi. vii. s; and with that rictary ora gave him a deadly thrust, which made Al'°"}":'- him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at hint again, saying, ' Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us.' Ro. viu. 37. And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Chris- tian for a season '' saw him no more.4 Ja. to. :. In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what a brief relation yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon ly yj SJJectJ made all the time of the fight — ho ^r- spake like a dragon ; and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword ; then, indeed, he did smile, and look upward; but it was the dreadfulest sight that ever I saw.5 So when the battle was over, Christian said, ' I will here give thanks to him that christian givr3 delivered me out of the mouth of the God thanks tor lion, to him that did help me against Apollyon.' And so he did, saying — 3 ' For a season,' is only found in the first edition. These words may have been omitted, iu Bunyan's subsequent edi- tions, by a typographical error, or have been struck out by hun. My impression is, that they were left out by the printer in error; because, in the Second Part, when (he pilgrims pass the spot and talk of the battle, we are told that ' when Apoll- yon was beat, he made his retreat to the next valley.' And there poor Christian was awfully beset with him again. — (Kn ; 4 You will find, from the perusal of Bunyan's owu spiritual life, that he has here brought together, in the assault of Apoll- yon upon Christian, many of the most grievous temptations with which his owu soul was beset, as also, in Christian's an- swers agaiust them, the very method of defence which he him- self was taught by Divine grace in the midst of the conflict. It is here condensed into a narrow and vivid scene, but it extended over years of Bunyan's life; and the wisdom that is in it, and the points of experience illustrated, were the fruit of many months of paiufulness, danger, and desperate struggle with the adversary, which he had to go through. — (Cheever.) s The literal history of this terrific conflict may be found in Banyan's cxperieuce recorded in Grace Abounding, Nos. L31 — 173, when he recovered his sword, and put his enemy to flight. He describes his agonies in the combat as if he was being racked upon the wheel, and states that it lasted for about a year. Floods of blasphemies were poured in upon him, but he was saved from utter despair, because t! loathsome to him. Dr. Cheever eloquently says, ' What made the tight a thousand times worse for poor Christian was, that many of these hellish darts were tipped, by Apollyon- nant ingenuity, with sentences from Scripture;' so thai tian thought the Bible was against him. One of tie - darts penetrated his soul with the awful words, 'no place lor repentance ;' and another with, ' hath never forgiveness.' 1 lie recovery of his sword was by a heavenly suggestion that he did not 'refuse him that spcakcth:' new vigour was com- municated. ' When I fall, I shall arise,' was a home-thrust at Satan ; who letl him, richly to enjoy the consolations o! tne gospel after this dreadful battle. (ED.) 15 114 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend, Design'd my ruin ; therefore to this end He sent him harness'd out ; and he with rage, That hellish was, did fiercely me engage. But blessed Michael helped me, and I, By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly. Therefore to him let me give lasting praise, And thank and bless his holy name always. Then there came to him a hand, with some of the leaves of the tree of life, the which Christian took, and applied to the wounds that he had received in the battle, and was healed immediately.1 He also sat down in that place to eat oread, and to drink of the bottle that was given him a little Christian goes 'before; so being refreshed, he ad- on his journey dressed himself to his iourney, with with his sword -i-i 1 n i drawn in ids his sword drawn in liis hand ; tor he said, I know not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront from Apollyon quite through this valley. Now, at the end of this valley, was another, The Valley of ca^e(^ the Valley OI" the Shadow of the shadow of Death, and Christian must needs go Death. through it, because the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: 'A wilderness, aland of deserts, and of pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land that no man' (but a Christian) 'passed through, and where no man dwelt.' Je. ii. 6. Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon; as by the sequel you shall see.2 I saw then in my dream, that when Christian The children of was got to the borders of the Shadow thespiesgoback. 0f Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an evil report of the good land, Nu. xiii., making haste to go back ; to whom Christian spake as follows : — Chr. Whither are you going ? Men. They said, Back! back! and we would have you to do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. 1 By ' leaves ' here (Rev. xxii. 2), we are to understand the blessed and precious promises, consolations, and encourage- ments, that, by virtue of Christ, we find everywhere growing on the new covenant, which will be handed freely to the wounded conscience that is tossed on the reckless waves of doubt and unbelief. Christ's leaves are better thau Adam's aprons, lie sent his Word, and healed them.— (Buuyan's Holy City.) 2 However terrible these conflicts are, they are what every Christian pilgrim has to encounter that is determined to win heaven. Sin and death, reprobates and demons, are against him. The Almighty, all good angels and men, is for him. Eternal life is the reward. Be not discouraged, young Chris- tian ! ' If God be for us, who can be against us r We shall come off more than conquerors, through him that hath loved us. Equal to our day so shall be our strength. The enemies had a special check from our Lord, while Mr. 'Fearing passed through. ' Though death and hell obstruct the way The meanest saint shall win the day.'— (Ed.) Chr. Why? what's the matter? said Christian. Men. Matter ! said they ; we were going that way as you are going, and went as far as we durst ; and indeed we were almost past coming back ; for had we gone a little further, we had not been here to bring the news to thee. Chr. But what have you met with? said Christian. Men. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; hut that, by good hap, we looked before us, and saw the danger before we Came to it. Ps. sliv. 19 ; cvii. 10. Chr. But what have you seen ? said Christian. Men. Seen ! Why, the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch ; we also saw there the hobgob- lins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit ; we heard also in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a people under unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons; and over that Valley hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion. Death also doth always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without Order. Job iii. 5; x. 26. Chr. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven.3 Je. ii. 6. Men. Be it thy way ; we will not choose it for ours. So they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword drawn in his hand ; for fear lest he should be assaulted. I saw then in my dream so far as this valley reached, there was on the right hand a very deep ditch : that ditch is it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished.4 ?s. lxix. 14, 15. Again, behold, on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, into which, if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom for his foot to stand on. Into that quag king David once did fall, and had no doubt therein been smothered, had not He that is able plucked him out. The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it ; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other ; also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, and 1 heard him here sigh bitterly ; for besides the dangers mentioned above, the path- way was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lift a ' Desired heaven/ in some of Bunyan's editions. — (Ed.) 4 The ditch on the right hand is error in principle, into which the bliud, as to spiritual truth, fall. Tlie ditch on the left hand means outward sin and wickedness, which many fall into. Both are alike dangerous to pilgrims : but the Lord 'will keep the feet of his saints.' 1 Sa. ii. 9. — (Mason.) Dr. Dodd considers that by the deep ditch is intended ' pre- sumptuous hopes,' and the no less dangerous quag to be ' despairing fears.' — (Ed.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 115 up his foot to set forward, he knew not where, or upon what he should set it m >xt. Ahout the midst of this valley, T perceived the mouth of hell to he, and it stood also hard by the way-side. Now, thought Christian, what shall I do ? And ever aud anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before), thai lie was forced to put up his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer. Eph. vi. is. So he cried in my hearing, ' 0 Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul ! ' Vs. cxvi. 4. Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him.1 Also he heard doleful voice?, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn iu pieces, or trodden down like mire iu the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles together. And, coining to a place, where he thought he heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped Christian put to au^ Dega11 to muse what he had best to ■ stand, but for do. Sometimes he had half a thought to go back ; then again he thought he might be half way through the valley ; he remembered also how he had already vanquished many a danger, and that the danger of going back might be much more than for to go forward ; so he resolved to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer ; but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehe- ment voice, ' I will walk in the strength of the Lord God ;' so they gave back, and came no further. One thing I would not let slip ; I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not know his own voice; and thus I perceived it. Just when be was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got be- Christian made nind llim> alld stePt UP *>*% to him> ^d:^e'hat,lie and, whisperingly, suggested many mies, when it grievous blasphemies to him, which he suggestedthem verily thought had proceeded from his into his mind. owu miIul. This put Christian more to it than anything that he met with before ; even to think that he should now blaspheme him that he loved so much before ; yet, if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these blasphemies came."' 1 The sight of an immortal soul in peril of its eternal in- terests, beset with enemies, engaged iu a desperate conflict, with hell opening her mouth before, and fiends and tempta- tions pressing alter, is a sublime and awful speetacle. Man cannot aid him: all his help is in God only.— (Cheever.) 2 And as for the secrets of Satan, such as are suggestions to question the being of God, the truth of his Word, and to be annoyed with devilish blasphemies, none are more acquainted with these than the bi-rgest siuuers at their conversion; where- Wben Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, ' Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.' Ps. xxiii. 4.'5 Then he was glad, and that for these reasons : First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God, were iu this valley as well as himself. Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and dismal state ; and why not, thought he, with me? though, by reason of the impediment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it. Job is. n. Tliirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to have company by and by. So he went on, and called to him that was before ; but he knew not what to answer; for that he also thought him- self to be alone. And by and by the chriBtfandadat day broke ; then said Christian, He break ofda-v- hath turned ' the shadow of death into the morn- ing. ' Am. v. 8.4 Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in the dark. So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that was on the other ; also how narrow the way was which led betwixt them both ; also now he saw the hobgob- lins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but al' afar off (for after break of day, they came not nigh) ; yet they were discovered to him, according to that which is written, ' He discovercth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light, the shadow of death.' J»b xii. 22. Now was Christian much affected with his de- liverance from all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers, though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them conspicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising, and this fore thus also they are prepared to be helps in the church to relieve and comfort others. — {Jerusalem Sinner Saved, vol. L p. 80.) See also a very interesting debate upon this subj< et iu Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, vol. i. p. 250. O, no one knows the terrors of these days but myself. — {Grace Abounding, Nos. 100—102.) Satan and his angels trouble his head with their stinking breath. How many strange, hideous, and amazing blasphemies have some, that are coining to Christ, had injected upon their spirits against him. — {Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. i. p. 20(J.) He brought me up also out of a horrible pit ; a pit of noise of devils, and of my heart answering them with distrust and fear. — {Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love.) 3 The experience of other saints is very encouraging; for the soul finds that others have gone before him hi dreadlul, dark, and drcarv paths. — (Mason.) 4 To walk in' darkness, and not be distressed for it, argues stupidity of the soul. To have the liuht of God's countenance shine upon us, and not to rej'iee and be thankful tor it, is impossible.— (Masoa .) 116 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. was another mercy to Christian ; for you must note, that though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet tins second The second part part which he was yet to go, was, if of this valley p0ssible, far more dangerous :* for from ous. the place where he now stood, even to the end of the valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down there, that had it now heen dark, as it was when he came the first part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason heen cast away;2 but, as I said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he, ' His candle sliineth upon my head, and by his light I walk through darkness.' Jbbxxix. 3. In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly ; and while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me a cave, where two giants, POPE and PAGAN, dwelt in old time ; by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, who haJ Hke to have done me a mischief. Chb. It was well you escaped her net ; Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. Ge. xxxlx. n—13. But what did she do to you ? Faith. You cannot think, but that you know something, what a flattering tongue she had ; sbe lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of content. Chr. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience. Faith. You know what I mean ; all carnal and fleshly content. Chr. Thank God you have escaped her ; ' The abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch.' Tr. xxii. 14. Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no. Chr. Why, I trow, l you did not consent to her desires ? Faith. No, not to defile myself; for I remem- bered an old writing that I had seen, which said, ' Her steps take hold on hell.' Pr. v. 5. So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks. Job xxxi. 1 Then she railed on me, and I went my way.2 Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came ? Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who He is assaulted asked me what I was, and whither by Adam the bound. I told him that I am a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow ; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. Eph. iv. 22. I asked him then, what was his work, and what the wages that he would give. He told me, that his work was many de- lights; and his wages, that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him, what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me, that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world ; and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any children. He said that he had but three daughters ; 1 ' I trow,' I believe or imagine (Imp. Diet.) — (Ed.) - If the experience of Christian is an exhibition of Bunyan's own feelings, the temptations of Madam Wanton are very pro- perly laid in the way of Faithful, aud not of Christian. She would have had no chance with the man who admired the wis- dom of God in making him shy of women, who rarely carried it pleasantly towards a woman, and who abhorred the common salutation of women. — (Grace Aboundii:g, No. 316.) — Ed. the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all 3 if I would. 1 Jn. ii. is. Then I asked how long time he would have me live with him ? And he told me, As long as he lived himself. Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to, at last ? . Faith. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there written, 'Put off the old man with his deeds.' Chr. And how then ? Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave.4 So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told me, that he would send such a one after me, that should make my way bitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from him ; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself. This made me cry, ' 0 wretched man ! ' Ro. vii. 24. So I went on my way up the hill. Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind ; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands. Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; but being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom Faith. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead.5 But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. He said, because of my secret inclining to Adam the First: and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward ; so I lay at his foot as dead as before. So, when I came to myself again, I cried him mercy ; but he said, I know not how to show mercy ; and with that knocked me down again.6 He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came bv, and bid him forbear. 3 'All' is omitted from every edition by Bunyau, except the first; probably a typographical error. 4 An awful slavery! 'None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life.' Pr. ii. 19. — (Ed.) 3 That sinner who never had a threatening fiery visit from Moses, is yet asleep in his sins, under the curse and wrath of the law of God.— (C.C.V.G.) 6 As the law giveth no strength, nor life to keep it, so it accepteth none of them that are under it. Sin and Die, is for ever its language. There is no middle way in the law. It hath not ears to hear, nor heart to pity, its penitent ones. — (Buuyan on Justification, vol. i. p. 316.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 119 Chr. Who was that that hid him forbear. Faith. I did not know hira at first, but as he went by, I perceived the holes in his hands, and in his side ; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. Ciir. That man that overtook you was Moses. The temper" of He spareth none, neither knoweth he Moses. how £0 S]10W mercy to those that trans- gress his law. FAITn. 1 know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my house over my head, if I stayed there. Ciir. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you ? Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it ; but for the lions, I think they were asleep; for it was about noon ; and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the porter, and came down the hill. Chr. He told me indeed, that he saw you go by, but I wish you had called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility? Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who Faithful assault- would wimi)gty ha™ persuaded me to ed by Discon- go back again with him; his reason was, for that the valley was altogether without honour. He told me, moreover, that there to go was the way to disobey all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, with others, who, he knew, as he said, would be very much offended, if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through this valley. Chr. Well, and how did you answer him? Faith. I told him that although all these that Faithful's answer he named might claim kindred of me, to Discontent. and t^at j-jghtly, for indeed they were my relations according to the flesh, yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, as I also have rejected them ; and therefore they were to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that as to this valley he had quite misrepresented the thing; 'for before honour is humility ; and a haughty spirit before a fall.' Therefore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteamed most worthy our affections. Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley? 1 The word 'temper' was altered, in the fourth and subse- quent editions to ' thunder.' — (Ed.) Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but of all the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, „e is „ssaultcd he, I think, bears the wrong name. »*th Shame. The others would be said nay, after a little argu- mentation, and somewhat else; but this bold-faced Shame would never have done.2 Ciir. Why, what did he say to you ? Faith. What! why, he objected against religion itself; he said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion : he said that a tender conscience was an unmanly thing ; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty, that the brave spirits of the times accustom them- selves unto, would make him the ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opiuion, l Co. i. 26 ; iii. is. rhi. iii. -, 8 ; nor any of them neither Jn. vii. 48, before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness, to venture the loss of all, for nobody knows what. He moreover objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims, of the times in which they lived ; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I relate ; as. that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home ; that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said also, that religion made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which he called by finer names ; and made him own and respect the base, because of the same religious fraternity. And is not this, said he, a shame?3 Chr. And what did you say to him ? Faith, Say ! I could not tell what to say at the first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face ; even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite off. But, at last, I began to consider, that ' that which is highly esteemed among men, is had in abomination with God.' 2 The delineation of this character is a masterly grouping together of the arguments used by men of this world against religion, in ridicule and contempt of it. Faithful's account of him, and of his arguments, is a piece of vigorous satire, full of truth and life. — (Cheever.) 3 Nothing can be a stronger proof that we have lost the image of God, than shame concerning the things of God. Tins shame, joined to the fear of man, is a very powerful enemy to God's truths, Christ's glory, and our soul's comfort. Hitter at once get out of our pain, by declaring boldly for Christ and his cause, than stand shivering on the brink of profession, ever dreading the loss of our good name and reputation: for Christ says (awful words):' "Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the JSou of man be ashamed when he cometh in the glory of his Father.' Mar. viii. 38. It is one thing to be attacked by shame, and another to be conquered by it.— (Mason.) 120 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Lu. xvi. is. And I thought again, this Shame tells me what men are ; hut it tells me nothing what God, or the Word of God is. And I thought, more- over, that at the clay of doom, we shall not he doomed to death or life, according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, indeed is best, though all the men in the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God prefers his religion ; seeing God prefers a tender conscience ; seeing they that make them- selves fools for the kingdom of heaven are wisest ; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than the greatest man in the world that hates him ; Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation. Shall I entertain thee against my sovereign Lord? How then shall I look him in the face at his com- ing ? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I expect the blessing? Mar. via. ss. But, indeed, this Shame was a bold villain ; I could scarce shake him out of my company; yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities that attend religion ; but at last I told him it was but in vain to attempt further in this business ; for those things that he disdained, in those did I see most glory ; and so at last I got past this impor- tunate one. And when I had shaken him off, then I began to sing — The trials that those men do meet withal, That are obedieut to the heavenly call, Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, And come, and come, and come again afresh ; That now, or sometime else, we by them ui;iy Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 0 let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims, then, Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men. Cim. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst with- stand this villain so bravely ; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name ; for he is so bold as to follow us in the streets, and to attempt to put us to shame before all men ; that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good ; but if he was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does. But let us still resist him ; for not- withstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth the fool, and none else. ' The wise shall inherit glory,' said Solomon, • but shame shall be the promotion of fools.' Pr. iii. 35. Faith. I think we must cry to him for help against Shame, who would have us to be valiant for the truth upon the earth. CriR. You say true ; but did you meet nobody else in that valley ? Faith. No, not I, for I had sunshine all the rest of the way through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.1 Chr. It was well for you. I am sure it fared far otherwise with me ; I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, a dread- ful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon ; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, especially when he got me down and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces ; for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he! told me he was sure of me ; but I cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it.2 I thought I should have been killed there, over and over ; but at last day broke, and the sun rose, and I went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet. Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is Talkative,3 walking at a distance besides them ; for in this place, there was room enough for them all to walk. He Talkative do- was a tall man, and something more scribed. comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner. Faith. Friend, whither away ? Are you going to the heavenly country ? 1 Christian in a great measure escaped the peculiar tempta- tions that assaidled Faithful, yet he sympathized with Mm; nor did the latter deem the gloomy experiences of his brother visionary or imaginative, though he had been exempted from them. One man, from a complication of causes, is exposed to temptations of which another is ignorant; aud in this case he needs much sympathy, which he seldom meets with; while they who are severe on him are liable to be baffled in another way, which, for want of coincidence in habit, temperature, and situation, he is equally prone to disregard. Thus Christians are often led reciprocally to censure, suspect, or dislike each other, on those very grounds which would render them useful and encouraging counsellors and companions 1 — (Scott.) 2 Bunyan, in his Pilgrim's Progress, places the Valley of the Shadow of Death, not where we should expect it, at the end of Christian's pilgrimage, but about the middle of it. Those who have studied the history of Bunyan and his times will hardly wonder at this. It was then safer to commit felony than to become a Dissenter. Indeed, a felon was fa- surer of a fair trial than any Dissenting minister, after the restoration of Charles II. This Bunyan found. Simply and solely for preaching, he was condemned by Keeling to impri- sonment. That was to be followed by banishment if he did not conform, and, in the event of his return from banishment without license from the King, the judge added, ' You must stretch by the neck for it; I tell you plainly.' Christian en- dured, in the first portion of this dismal valley, great darkness and distress of mind about his soul's safety for eternity, and, in the latter part of the valley, the dread of an ignominious, and cruel, and sudden execution in the midst of his days — a fear more appalling than the prospect of a natural death. This he was enabled to bear, because he then enjoyed the light, the presence, and the approbation of his God. — (Ed.) 8 The character now introduced under a most expressive name, is an admirable portrait, drawn by a masterly hand, from some striking original, but exactly resembliug numbers in every age and place, where the truths of the gospel are generally known. Such men are more conspicuous than humble believers, but their profession will not endure a strict investigation. — (Scott.) Render, be careful not to judge harshly, or despise a real believer, who is blessed with fluency of utterauce on Divine subjects. — (E».) THE riLGltni'S PROGRESS. 121 Talk. I am going to the fame place. Faith. That is well ; then I hope ivc may have your good company. Talk. With a very good will, will I be your companion. ftuflifnl and Faith. Come on, then, and let US go .... together, ami let us spend our time in discoursing of things that are profitable. Talk. To talk of things that are -nod, to me is very acceptable, with you, or with any other; and 1 am glad that 1 have met with those that incline . „ to so good a work; for, to speak the i: nth, there are hut few that care thus to spend their time (as they are in their travels), hut choose much rather to he speak- ing of things to no profit ; and this hath been a trouble to me. Faith. That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what things so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven? Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are fuil of conviction ; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What things so pleasant (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful) ? For instance, if a man doth de- light to talk of the history or the mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture ? Faith. That is true ; but to be profited by such things in our talk should be that which we design. Talk. That is it that I said ; for to talk of such Taikative's fine things is most profitable ; for by so discourse. doing,- a man may get knowledge of many things; as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of things above. Thus, in general, but more particularly, by this, a man may learn the necessity of the new birth ; the insufficiency of our ■works ; the need of Christ's righteousness, &c. Besides, by this a man may learn, by talk, what it is to repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the like ; by this also a man may learn what are the great promises and consolations of the gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a man may ham to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, aud also to instruct the ignorant.1 Faith. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you. Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause why so few understand the need of faith, and the neces- sity of a work of grace in their soul, in order to eternal life; but ignorantly live in the works of the law, by which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven. Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of God; no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them. Talk. All this 1 know very well. For a man can receive nothing, except it be given 0 bravc T;i]k:i. him from heaven ; all is of grace, not Uve- of works. I could give you a hundred scriptures for the confirmation of this. Faith. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at this time found our dis- course uponl Talk. What you will. I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly; things o brave Taika- moral, or things evangelical ; things tlVL- sacred, or things profane ; things past, or things to come ; things foreign, or things at home ; things more essential, or things circumstantial ; provided that all be done to our profit. Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and stepping to Christian (for he walked Faiftft all this while by himself), he said to "v™ him (but softly), What a brave companion have we got ! Surely this man will make a very excellent trim. HE. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with whom you are so christiil!1 m;ikc, taken, will beguile, with that tongue a di ' „ , t i i • talkative, tell- of his, twenty of them that know him in- Ettthral wllo he was. not. Faith. Do you know him, then ? Cim. Know him ! Yes, better than he knows himself. Faith. Pray, what is he ? Gnu. His name is Talkative ; he dwellcth in our town ; I wonder that you should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our town is large. Faith. Whose son is he ? And whereabout does he dwell ? Cilr. He is the son of one Say -well; he dwelt in Prating Row ; and he is known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating Row ; and notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. - Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. Chr. That is, to them who have not thorough acquaintance with him; for he is best abroad; 1 As an outward profession, without a lioly life, is no evidence of religion, neither i re excel! ol - f that the per- sons who possess th( m are partakers of grace: so it is an awful fact, that some have edilicd the church by their gilts, who have themselves been destitute of the s] ■ -.Ivimey.) I concluded, a little grace, a little love, a little of the true fear of God, is belter than all gifts.— (Grace Abounding) VOL. III. 2 The Pharisee goes on boldly, fears nothing, but trustctli in himself that his state is good; he hath his mouth full ol many fine things, whereby he strokes himself over the head, and calls' himself one of God's white boys, that, like the Prodigals brother, never transgressed.— {Pharisee and Publican, vol. u. p. 215.) lfi 122 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. near home, lie is ugly enough. Your saying that he is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of the painter, whose pictures show best at a distance, but, very near, more unpleasing. Faitii. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled. Chr. God forbid that I should jest (although I smiled) in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely ! I will give you a further discovery of him. This man is for any company, and for any talk ; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale-bench ; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth ; religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation ; all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to make a noise therewith. Faith. Say you so ! then am . I in this man greatly deceived.1 Chr. Deceived ! you may be sure of it ; remem- ber the proverb, ' They say, and do not.' Mat. xxiii. 3. But the ' kingdom of God is not in Avord, but in Talkative talis, power. ' i Co. iv. 20. He talketh of prayer, but does not. of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth ; but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad ; and I know what I say ins house is °^ k*m *s *he truth. His house is as empty of re- empty of religion, as the white of an hgiou. x • a ' egg is of savour. There is there,, neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, the brute in his kind serves God far better than he. He is a stain to He is the very stain, reproach, and religion. shame of religion, to all that know him ; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he dwells, through him. Ro. ii. 24, 25. Thus say the common people that know The proverb that him, A saint abroad, and a devil at goes of him. home> His family finds ifc SQj he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so unreason- able with his servants, that they neither know how 1 Talkative seems to have been introduced on purpose that the author might have a fair opportunity of stating his senti- ments concerning the practical nature of evangelical religion, to which numbers in his day were too inattentive ; so that this admired allegory has fully established the important distinction between a dead and a living faith, on which the whole contro- versy depends.— (Scott.) ' Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.' 1 Co. xiii. 1. Just thus it is with him who has gifts, but wants grace. Shall I be proud, because I am sounding brass. Is it so much to be a fiddle? Hath not the least creature that hath life, more of God in it than these ? —[Grace Abounding, No. 297-300.) Some professors are pretty busy and ripe, able to hold you in a very large discourse of the glorious gospel ; but, if you ask them concerning heart work, and its sweet influences and virtues on their souls and consciences, they may answer, I find by preaching that I am turned from my sins in a good measure, and have learned [in tongue] to plead for the gospel. This is not far enough to prove them under the covenant of crace. — [Law and Grace, vol. i. P. 515.) to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him, say, it is better to deal with a Turk than with him ; for fairer dealing Meu s]lull to they shall have at their hands. This deaI ™& him- Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides he brings up his sons to follow his steps ; and if he findeth in any of them a foolish timorousness (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender con- science), he calls them fools, and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their commendations before others. For my part, I am of opinion, that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more.2 Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you ; not only because you say you know him, but also because, like a Christian, you make your re- ports of men. For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill-will, but because it is even so as you say. Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him as, at the first, you did ; yea, had he received this report at their hands only that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a slander — a lot that often falls from bad men's mouths upon good men's names and professions ; but all these things, yea, and a great many more as bad, of my own know- ledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him ; they can neither call him brother, nor friend ; the very naming of him among them makes them blush, if they know him. Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I shall better observe tins distinction. Chr. They are two things indeed> and are as diverse as are the soul and the body ; for as the body without the soul is but a dead The carcass of carcass, so saying, if it be alone, is but religion. a dead carcass also. The soul of religion is the practical part: 'Pure religion and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the WOrld. ' Ja. 5. 27 ; see ver. 22-26. This Talkative is not aware of; he thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and thus he deceiveth his own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed ; talking is not sufficient to prove 2 Read this, and tremble, ye whose profession lies only on your tongue, but who never knew the love and grace of Christ in your souls. 0 how do you trifle with the grace of God, with precious Christ, and with the holy Word of truth! O what an awful account have you to give hereafter to a holy, heart-searching God! Ye true pilgrims of Jesus, read this, and give glory to your Lord, for saving you from resting in barren notions, and taking up with talking of truths ; and that he has given you to know the truth in its power, to embrace it in your heart, and to live and walk under its constraining, sanctifying influences. Who made you to differ? — (Mason.) THE HLC RIM'S PROGRESS. Ul that fruit is indeed in the heart and life; ami let us assure ourselves, that at the day of doom men shall he judged according tQ their fruits. Mat.xiii., or, It will not he said then, 1 >id j ea believe? but, Were you doers, or talkers only? and accordingly shall they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our harvest; and you know men at harvest re- gard nothing but fruit. Not that anything can be accepted that is not of faith, but I speak this to show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day. FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he deseriheth the beast that is clean. Faitttfhl rmi- Lev. xi. Dent. xiv. He is SUcll ■ one that *? parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud ; laii.aivc. not that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, hut yet is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. And this truly rescmbleth Talkative, he cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge, he cheweth upon the word ; but he divideth not the hoof, he parteth not with the way of sinners ; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean.1 Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel sense of those texts. And I will add another thing: Paul calleth some men, yea, and those great talkers too, ' sounding brass, and tink- ling cymbals,' that is, as he expounds them in Talkative like another place, ' things without life, 10 tiling that • • l > ml • sound without giving SOUIIU. 1 Co. xiii. 1— 3; xiv. 7. lllings mc- without life, that is, without the true faith and grace of the gospel ; and consequently, things that shall never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of life; though their sound, by their talk, be as if it were the tongue or voice of an angel. Faith. Well, I Avas not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him ? Cur. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart, and turn it. Faith. What would you have me to do ? Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the power of religion ; and ask him plainly (when he has approved of it, for 1 Tliis spiritual application of the law of Moses is found in the narrative of Bunyan's experience in the Grace Abounding, A'o. 71: '1 was also made, about this time, to see something concerning the heasts that Musts counted clean and unclean. I thought those beasts were types of men : the clean, types of them that were the people of God; hut the unclean, types of such as were the children of the wicked one. Now, 1 read, that the clean beasts chewed the cud; that is, thought I, they show us we m.\\%tfeed upon the Word of God; they also parted the hoof, I thought that signified we must part, if we would be saved, with the ways of ungodly men.' that he will) whether this thing he set up in his heart, house, or conversation ?- Farm Then Faithful stepped forward . and said to Talkative, Come, what chee H« is it now ? Talk. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time. Paitii. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it with me to state the question, let it be this: How doth the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man ? Talk. I perceive then, that our talk must be about the power of things. Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to T;i,kntivc.3 fa1se answer you. And take my answer in diaoofeiij of a brief, thus : First, Where the grace of Cod is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly Faith. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. I think you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin. Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of sin ? Faith. 0 ! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin of policy, but he cannot To out abhor it, but by virtue of a godly anti- against sin, no , . . T , ii sijjn 01 ijrace. pathy against it. I have heard many cry out against sin in the pidpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph's mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy ; but she would willingly, notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. Ge. xxxix. 15. Some cry out against sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.3 Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.4 Faith. No, not I ; I am only for setting things right. But what is the second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart ? Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries. 2 True faith will ever show itself by its fruits ; real conver- sion, by the life and conversation. Be not deceived ; God is not to be mocked with the tongue, if the heart is not right to- wards him in love and obedience. — (Mason.) 3 This distinction between speaking against sin, and feeling a hatred to it, is so vastly important, that it forms the only infallible test to distinguish between those who are ' quickened' by the Spirit of God, and those who ' have a name to live and are dead.' It is a very awful statement, but, it is to be feared, strictly correct, that ministers may declaim against sin in the ; pidpit, who vet indulge it in the parlour. There may be much head knowledge, where there is no heart religion.— (Ivimey.) | * Christian faithfulness detects mere talkatives, and they complain, ' in so saying thou condemuest us also;' they will bear uo longer, but seek refuge under more comfortable preachers, or in more candid company, and represent those faithful moni- tors as censorious, peevish, and melancholy men— lying at the I catch.— (Scott.) 124 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Faith. This sign should have heen first; hut Great know- ^rst 0r ^aS*» *' *s a^s0 ^se ' ^0r know- ledge no sigii ledo-e, great knowledg-e, may he ob- of grace. . ° ' ? , . \ , , tamed m the mysteries or the gospeJ, and yet no work of grace in the soul. 1 Co. xiii. Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, ' Do you know all these things ? ' and the disciples had answered, Yes ; he addeth, • Blessed are ye if ye do them.' He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing : ' He that knoweth his master's will, and doeth it not.' A man may know like an angel, and yet he no Christian, therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to Jcnmo is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters ; but to do is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart Knowledge and can be good without knowledge ; for knowledge. witnout that the heart is naught. There is, therefore, knowledge and knowledge. Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of tilings ; and knowledge that is accompanied with the grace of faith and love ; which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart : the _ . , , first of these will serve the talker ; but 1 rue knowledge . . . attended with without the other the true Christian is not content. ' Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy law ; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart. ' rs. crix. 34. Talk. You lie at the catch again ; this is not for edification.1 Faith. Well, if you please, propound another sign how this work of grace discovereth itself where it is. Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree. Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it ? Talk. You may use your liberty. Faith. A work of grace in the soul discovereth One good sign itself, either to him that hath it, or to ofsracc- standers by. To him that hath it thus : It gives him convic- tion of sin, especially of the defilement of his na- ture and the sin of unbelief (for the sake of which he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Jesus Christ). Jn. xvi s. Ro. vii. 2i. Jn. xvi. 9. Mar. xvi. ig. This siodit and sense 1 In the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, Banyan explaius his mean- ing of ' lying at the catch' in these solemn words, referring to those who abide in sin, and yet expect to be saved by grace : ' Of this sort are they that build up Zion with blood, and Jeru- salem with iniquity; that judge for reward, and teach for hire, and divine for money, and lean upon the Lord. Mic.iii. 10, 11. This is doing tilings with a high hand against the Lord our God, and a talcing him, as it were, at the catch! This is, as we say among men, to seek to put a trick upon God, as if he had not sufficiently fortified his proposals of grace by his Holy Word, against all such kind of fools as these' — (Vol. i. p. 93.) of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life, at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; to which hungerings, &c, the promise is made. Ps. xxxviii. is. Je. xxxi. 19. Ga. ii. 1C. Ac. iv. 12. Mat. v. G. Re. xxi. G. Now. according to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But though I say it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace ; because his corrup- tions now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter; therefore, in him that hath this work, there is required a ver}r sound judgment before he can, with steadiness, conclude that this is a work of grace. To others, it is thus discovered : 1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ. Ro. x. 10. Phi. i. 27. Mat. v. 19. 2. By a life answerable to that confession ; to wit, a life of holiness ; heart-holiness, family-holi- ness (if he hath a family), and by conversation- holiness in the world ; which, in the general, teach- eth him, inwardly, to abhor his sin, and himself for that, in secret ; to suppress it in his family, and to promote holiness in the world ; not by talk only, as a hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in faith and love, to the power of the Word. Jn. xiv. 15. Fs. 1. 23. Job xiu. 5, c. Eze. xx. 43. And now, Sir, as to this brief descrip- tion of the work of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object, object ; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second question. Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear; let me, therefore, have your second question. Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part of this description of it ? and Another good doth your life and conversation testify sisn of s1*™- the same ? or standeth your religion in word or in tongue, and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen to ; and, also, nothing but what your conscience can justify you in ; • for, not he that commendeth himself is approved, but wdiom the Lord commendeth. ' Be- sides, to say, I am thus, and thus, when my con- versation, and all my neighbours, tell me I lie, is great wickedness.2 Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush ; 2 Blessed faithful dealing! O that it was more practised in the world, and in the "church! How then would vain talkers be detected in the one, and driven out of the other. — [Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. but, recovering himself, thus he replied : You come Tidkntivennt now to experience, to conscience, and "' Cod ; and to appeal to him for justi- qnesUou. fication of what is spoken. This kind of discourse I did not expect ; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to he a catechiscr, and, though you should so do, yet 1 may refuse to make you my judge. But, I pray, will you tell me why you ask mc such questions ? l Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and mswhj because I knew not that you had aught hun lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not.1 And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen juggling, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind. Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false swearers, and that of a blood-red colour.2 fully dwells upon the topics which Evangelist addresses to the Pilgrims, when on the verge of hitter persecution. — (Ed.) y Vanity hair is the City of Destruction in its gala dress, in its most seductive and sensual allurements. It is this world in miniature, with its various temptations. Hitherto we have observed the pilgrims by themselves, in loneliness, in obscurity, in the hidden life and experience of the people of God. The allegory thus far has been that of the soul, amidst its spiritual enemies, toiling towards heaven ; now there comes a scene more open, tangible, external ; the allurements of the world are to be presented, with the manner iu which the true pilgrim conducts himself amidst them. It was necessary that Banyan should show his pilgrimage in its external as well as its secret spiritual conflicts; it was necessary that he should draw the batmen the pursuits and deportment of the children of this world and the children of light ; that he should show- how a true pilgrim appears, and is likely to be regarded, who, amidst the world's vanities, lives above the world, is dead to it, and walks through it as a stranger and a pilgrim towards heaven. — (Cheever.j 2 A just description of this wicked world. How many, though they profess to be pilgrims, have never yet set one foot out of this fair; but live in it all the year round ! They ' walk according to the course of this world,' Ep. ii. 2 ; for 'the god of this world hath blinded their miuds.' 2 Co. iv. -1. But all those for whose sins Jesus hath died ' he delivers from this present evil world.' Ga. i. 4. You cannot be a pilgrim, if And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and streets, under their proper names, where such and such wares arc vended; so here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets (viz. countries and kingdoms), where the wares of this fair are soonest to he found. II. re is the Britain Row, the French Row, xia- streets i f the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the tllls te- German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one com- modity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in this fair; only our English nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat.3 Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through this town where this lusty fair is kept; and he that will go to the City, and yet not go through this town, must needs ' go out of the world. ' l Co. v. 10. The Prince of princes Christ went himself, when here, went through this through tins lair. town to his own country, and that upon a fair day too; yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities; yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have done him reverence as he went through the town. Mat. iv. s. Lu. iv. 5-7. Yea, because he was such a person of honour, Beelzebub you are not delivered from this world and its vanities; for if you love the world, if it has your supreme affections, the love of God is not in you, 1 Jn. ii. 15 ; you have not one grain of precious faith in precious Jesus. — (Mason.) s Mr. James, who, in 1815, published the 'Pilgrim' in verse, conjectures that Bunyan's description of the Fair arose from his having been at Stiuhridge hair, uear Cambridge. I: was thus described in 1786 : — 'The shops or booths are built in rows like streets, having each its name ; as Garlick Row, Bookseller's Row, Cook Row, fee. Here are all sorts of traders, who sell by wholesale or retail; as goldsmith's toymen, braziers, turners, milliners, haberdashers, hatters, mercers, drapers, pewterers, china warehouses, and, in a word, most trades that can be found iu London. Here are also taverns, coffee-houses, and eating-houses, iu great plenty. The chiel diversions are puppets, rope-dancing, and music booths. To this Pair, people from Bedfordshire and the adjoining counties still resort. Similar kinds of fairs are now kept at Frankfort and Leipzig. These mercantile fairs were very injurious to morals ; but not to the extent of debauchery and villany, which reign in our present annual fairs, near the metropolis am cities.' See an account of this fair in Hone's Yrar Book, p. 1538.— (Ed.) Our author evidently designed to exhibit in his allegory the grand outlines of the difficulties, temptations, and sufferings, to which believers are exposed in this evi! world ; which, in a work of this nature, most be related as if they came upon them one after another in regular succession ; though in actual experience several may meet together, many may molest the same person again and again, and son 1 him in every stage of brie jonroey. We should, therefore, singly consider the instruction conveyed by every slli incident, without measuring our experience, or calculat) . by comparing them with circumstances which might be reversed or altered with almost endless variety. In gene- ral, Yanitv hair represents the wretched state of In those populous places especially, where true religion is neglected and persecuted; and, indeed, 'iu the whole world h wickedness,' as distinguished from the church ot redeemed sinners.' — (Scott.) 1S!8 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure the Blessed One to . ,. cheapen and buy some of his vanities ; Christ bought ? ? nothing in this but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair. Now The Pilgrims these Pilgrims, as I said, must needs enter the fair. g0 through this fair.1 Well, so they did; hut, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the __ , . . town itself as it were in a hubbub Ihe fair m a hubbub about about them ; and that for several rea- tliera. r sons; for — First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind The first cause of raiment as was diverse from the of {he hubbub. raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a great gazing upon them : some said they were fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are outlandish men.2 1 Co. a. 7, s. Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, second cause of so they did likewise at their speech ; the hubbub. for few could understand what they said ; they naturally spoke the language of Canaan, but they that kept the fair were the men of this world ; so that, from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other. Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse Third cause of the merchandisers was, that these pil- the hubbub. grjms get yery i;gnt by ali tne;r wareg . they cared not so much as to look upon them ; and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, ' Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity,'3 and look up- wards, signifying that their trade and traffic was in heaven. Ps. cxix. 37. Phi. m. io, 20. One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage Fourth cause of of the men, to say unto them, What the hubbub. wiu ye buy ? But thej) looldng graVely 1 Christ will not allow his followers to bury their talent in the earth, or to put their light under a bushel; they are not to go out of the world, or to retire into cloisters, monasteries, or deserts ; but they must all go through this fair. Thus our Lord endured all the temptations and sufferings of this evil world, without being impeded or entangled by them, or step- ping iu the least aside to avoid them ; and he was exposed to greater enmity and contempt than any of his followers.— (Scott.) - The world will seek to keep you out of heaven with mocks, flouts, taunts, threat en i 11 gs, jails, 'gibbets, halters, burnings, and deaths. There ever was enmity between the seed of the serpent and the seed of the woman, and 110 endeavours can reconcile them. The world says, They will never come over to us ; and we again say, By God's grace we will not go over to them. 3 Holy Hunt of Hitchin, as he was called, a friend of Bun- van's, passing the market-place where mountebanks were performing, one cried after him, ' Look there, Mr. Hunt.' Turning his head another way, he replied, ' Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity.' — (lvimey.) upon him, answered, 'We buy the truth.'4 Pr. xxiii. 23. At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more: some mocking, •. . They are mocked. some taunting, some speaking re- proachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to a hub- Tlie fai-r in a bub, and great stir in the fair, inso- hubbub. much that all order was confounded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these men into examination, about whom the fair was almost over- turned. So the men were brought to Thev are exa- examination ; and they that sat upon mined. them, asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb ? The men told them, that they They tell who were pilgrims and strangers in the w^p'they world, and that they were going to came- their own country, which was the heavenly Jeru- salem, lie. ix. 13-16; and that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except it was, for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they Avould buy the truth.4 But they that were ap- pointed to examine them did not believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, They are not or else such as came to put all things believed, into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the They are put iu men of the fair. There, therefore, the cage. they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge, the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell tliem. But the men being patient, and Their behaviour not rendering railing for railing, but in the ea°e- contrariwise, blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing, and less pre- judiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for their continual abuses done by them to the men ; they, therefore, in angry man- 4 An odd reply. What do they mean? That they are neither afraid nor ashamed to own what was the one subject of their souls' pursuit — the truth. Understand hereby, that the whole world, which lieth in wickedness, is deceived by a lie, and is under the delusion of the father of lies. In oppo- sition to this, all believers in Christ are said to be of the truth. 1 Jn. iii, 19. They know and believe that capital truth with which God spake from heaven, 'This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.' Mat. iii. 17. This truth — that Jesus is the Son of God, and our only Saviour — lies at the foundation of all their hope; and to get more and more acquainted with him, is the grand object of their pursuits. For this the world hates (hem ; and Satan, who is an enemy to this truth, stirs up the world against them. 'For,' says our Lord, ' they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.' Jn. xvii. 16. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 129 ncr, let fly at them again, counting- them as bad . .. as the men in the cao-c, ami telling The men of the j » j . fair do fall out them that they seemed confederates, selves5 about ami should be made partakers of their thesetwomen. misfortune8.l The other replied, that for aught they could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and intended nobody any barm ; and that there were many that traded in their fair, that ■were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they bad abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them, they fell to some blows among themselves, ami did barm one to Th.v are made another. Then were these two poor A?saU&b-f mcu brought before their examiners ancc. again, and there charged as being- guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon ihcyarcicdup tnem» and led tlicm m chains up and and down the down the fair, for an example and a fair iu chains, . . , , , i for a terror to terror to others, lest any should speak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them.2 But Christian and Faithful behaved them- selves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much Someof themen mee^ness an& patience, that it won to of the fair won their side, though but few in compari- son of the rest, several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into greater Their adversar- raSe» insomuch that they concluded jes resolve to the death of these two men. Where- fore they threatened, that the cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die, for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair. Then were they remanded to the cage again, until further order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the stocks. Here, therefore, they called again to mind what they bad heard from their faithful friend Evan- gelist, and were the more confirmed in their way 1 In 1670, the town porters of Bedford being commanded to assist in a brutal attack upon the Nonconformists, ran away, ' They would be hanged, drawn, and quartered, before they would assist in that work ;' for which cause the justices committed two of them (which they could take) to the jail. The shops were shut up, so that it seemed like a place visited with the pest, where usually is written upon the door, 'Lord, have mercy upon us!' — (Narrative of Proceedings against Nonconformists, p. 5. 4to, 1670.) -' This is a true representation of what took place in England iu Bunyan's time. It was a disgrace to our nation, that Eng- lishmen, urged on by a fanatic church, treated two young and interesting women with a barbarity that would make savages (so called; blush. It was at Carlisle that two female pilgrims, Dorothy Waugh and Ann Robinson, were dragged through the streets, with each an iron instrument of torture, called a bridle, upon their heads ; and were treated with sross indecencv. — (Ed.) VOL. III. and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them.3 They also now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the best of it ; therefore each man secretly wished that he might have that preferment: but commit- ting themselves to the all-wise disposal of Him that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of.4 Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in T1 ^. order to their condemnation. When i>u' into the . . . , , cage, and after the time was come, they were brought brought to before their enemies and arraigned. tua' The Judge's name was Lord Hate-good. Their in- dictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form, the contents whereof were this : — ■ ' That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their trade; that they had made com- xheir indict' motions and divisions in the town, and meut- had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince.'5 Then Faithful began to answer, that he had oidy set himself against that which had set ,, ... , „ . °, . . laithful's aii- ltself arramst him that is lii for tnei'G Was one another com- -\vhose name was Hopeful (beinp- made so by the beholding of Christian and Faithful in their words and behaviour, in their Sufferings at the Fair), who joined himself unto him, and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus, one died to bear testimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes, to be a companion with Christian in his pilgrimage.4 This Hopeful also 1 Bunyan gives a good portrait of Faithful in his House of Lebanon, referring to the character of Pomporius Algerius, mentioned in Fox's Book of Martyrs. ' Was not this man, think you, a giant? did he not behave himself valiantly? was not his mind elevated a thousand degrees beyond sense, carnal reason, fleshly love, and the desires of embracing temporal things ? This man had got that by the end that pleased him ; neither could all the flatteries, promises, threats, reproaches, make him once listen to, or inquire after, what the world, or the glory of it could afford. His mind was captivated with delights invisible. He coveted to show his love to his Lord, by laying down his life for His sake. He longed to be where there shall be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing, nor tears, nor troubles. He was a man of a thousand !' Speaking of the pillars in that house at Lebanon, he says, 'These men had the faces of lions, they have triumphed in the flames.' 2 This is a most exquisitely beautiful sketch ; it is drawn to the life from many an era of pilgrimage in this world ; there are in it the materials of glory, that constituted spirits of such noble greatness as are catalogued in the eleventh of Hebrews — traits of cruel mockings and scourgiugs, bonds and impri- sonments.— (Cheever.) s Political interests engage ungodly princes to promote toleration, and chain up the demon of persecution. The cruel- ties they exercise disgust the people, and they are disheartened bv the ill success of then efforts to extirpate the hated sect. — (Scott.) 4 I have often recorded it with thankfulness, that though in the dreary day of my pilgrimage, the Lord hath taken away a told Christian, that there were many more of the men in the Fair, that would take their There are more time and follow after. tte^fei^wai So I saw that quickly after they were follow- got out of the Fair, they overtook one that was going before them, whose name was Tuey 07ertake By-ends ; so they said to him, What %-ends. Countryman, Sir ? and how far go you this way ? He told them, that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name. From Fair-speech ! said Christian. Is there any good that lives there ? Pr. xxvi. 25. By-ends. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. Chr. Fray, Sir, What may I call you ? said Christian. By-ends. I am a stranger to you, and you to me: if you be going this way, I shall By.emls loath to be glad of your company; if not, 1 tell his name. must be content. Chr. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of ; and, as I remember, they say it is a wealthy place. By-ends. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have very many rich kindred there. Chr. Pray, who are your kindred there ? if a man ma}' be so bold. By-ends. Almost the whole town ; and in par- ticular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech (from whose ancestors that town first took its name), also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing; and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's own brother, by father's side; and to tell you the truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occu- pation. Chr. Are you a married man ? By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the daughter of a virtuous The wife and kin- woman; she was my Lady Feigning's dred of By-ends. daughter, therefore she came of a very honourable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant. It is true we somewhat differ in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in two small points ; first, Ave never where By-ends strive asrainst wind and tide; secondly, differs . &«? ° ' J > others in reJl- we are always most zealous when reli- gwn. gion goes in his silver slippers ; Ave love much to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines, and the people applaud him.5 dear and faithful Christian friend, yet he has always raised up another. A very great blessing this, for which Christians can never be thankful enough. — (Mason.) 6 Is not this too much the case with professors of this day ? THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 133 Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, It runs in my mind that this is one By-ends of Fair-speech; and if it he he, wc have as very a knave in our company, as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him ; methinks he should not he ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as if you knew something- more than all the world doth ;* and if I take not my mark amiss, 1 deem I have half a guess of you: Is not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ? By-exds. This is not my name, hut indeed it is a nickname that is given me hy some that cannot ahide me ; and I must be content to hear it as a reproach, as other good men have home theirs before me. Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you hy this name ? By-exds. Never, never ! The worst that ever How By-ends I did to give them an occasion to give got his name. me jj^ name waSj that j iiaj alwavs the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby ; but if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a blessing ; but let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach. Chr. I thought, indeed, that you were the man that I heard of ; and to tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are willing we should think it doth. By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I fie desires to cannot ue^P '* 5 J011 sna^ ^n{^ me a keep company fair company-keeper, if you will still with Christian. , . L J l . J admit me your associate. Chr. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide;2 the which, I perceive, is against your opinion ; you must also own religion in his rags, as well as when in his silver slippers ; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. The Spirit of truth says, 'All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall sutler persecution.' 2 Ti. iii. 12. But how many act as if they had found the art of making the Spirit of truth a liar ! for they can so trim and shape their conduct, as they vainly think to follow Christ, and yet to keep in with the world, which is at enmity against him — a most fatal and soul- deceiving error. — (Mason.) 1 'What is this something that By-ends knew more than all the world? How to unite heaven and hell — how to serve God and Mammon — how to he a Christian and a hypocrite at the same time. 0 the depth of the depravity of the human heart ; alas! how many similar characters now exist, with two tongues in one mouth, looking one way and rowing another. — (Ed.) " Fear not, therefore, in her for to ahide, She keeps her ground, come weather, wind, or tide. — (Bunyan's House of God, vol. ii. p. 579.) If wc will follow Christ, he tells us that we must take up our cross. The wind sets always on my face ; and the foaming rage of the sea of this world, and the proud and lofty waves thereof do continually beat upon the sides of the bark, or ship, that myself, my cause, and my followers arc in. — (Bunyan's Greatness of the Soul, vol. i. p. 107.) By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me «-o with you. Chr. Not a step further, unless you will do in what I propound, as we. Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I did beforo you overtook me, even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my company." Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful forsook him, and kept their By-end distance before him; but one of them cl11' looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, and behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low conge ; and they also gave him a compliment. The men's names were He lias new Mr. Ilold-the-world, Mr. Money-love, companions. and Mr. Save-all;4 men that Mr. B}r-ends had formerly been acquainted with ; for in their min- ority they were schoolfellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripeman, a schoolmaster in Love-gain, which is a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flat- tery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gentlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such a school themselves. Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, Who are they upon the road before us ? (for Chris- tian and Hopeful were yet within view.) By-ends. They are a couple of far countrymen, that, after their mode, are going on By-enda'character pilgrimage. of lh ] Money-love. Alas ! Why did they not Btay, that we might have had their good company ? for they, and we, and you, Sir, I hope, are all going on a pilgrimage. By-ends. We are so, indeed; but the men before us arc so rigid, and love so much their own notions,5 and do also so lightly esteem the opinions 3 Mind how warily these pilgrims acted to this deceitful professor. They did not too rashly take up an ill opinion against him; but when they had full proof of what he was, they did not hesitate one moment, but dealt faithfully with him, and conscientiously withdrew from him. — (Mason.) In a letter written in 1CG1, from Exeter jail, by Mr. Abraham (.'hear, a Baptist minister of Plymouth, who suffered greatly for nonconformity, and at length died in a state of bani there is this remark, 'We have many brought in here daily, who go out again almost as soon, for a week in a prison tries a professor more than a month in a church.' — (Ivimey.) 4 It might have been supposed that the persons here intro- duced were settled inhabitants of the town of Vanity, or the City of Destruction; hut, indeed, they | inselvcs pilgrims, and desired, during the 'sunshine,' to associ I pilgrims, provided they would allow them to hold the world, i love money, and save all, whatever became of faith aud holiness, 1 of honestv. piety, truth, and charity. — (Scott.) 6 Pretended friends come with such expostulations as these : J 34 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. of others, that let a man be never so godly, yet if he jumps not -with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company. Saye-all. That is bad, but we read of some that are righteous overmuch;1 and such men's rigidncss prevails with them to judge and condemn all but themselves. But, I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you differed ? 2 By-ends. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, conclude that it is duty to rush on their journey all weathers ; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for hazarding all for God at a clap ; and I am for taking all advantages to secure my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men are against them ; but I am for religion in what, and so far as the times, and my safety, will bear it. They are for religion when in rags and contempt ; but I am for hirn when he walks in his golden slippers, in the sunshine, and with applause.3 Mb. Hold-tiie-world. Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends ; for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, that, having the liberty co keep Avhat he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents; it is best to make hay when the sun shines ; you see how the bee lieth still all winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine ; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that religion best, that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us; for who can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the good things of this life, but that he would have us keep them Why, dear Sir, will you give sucli offence ? How much would it be for your comfort and interest in the world if you would but be a little more complying, and give way in some particular points and phrases. 0 what a syren's song ! May the Lord enable every faithful servant to reply, ' Get thee behind me, Satan.'— (J. B.) 1 These words of Solomon are thus wichedly misapplied by many to the present day. Ec. vii. 1G, 17 probably refers to the administration of justice which should be tempered with mercy, but not with laxity ; or it may refer to the foolish opinions expressed npon the characters of pharisee and publican, exalting the one or decrying the other overmuch. It cannot be meant to censure the utmost efforts after true righteousness, nor to sanction the slightest degree of wickedness. — (Ed.) 2 Woe unto them who wander from the way. Art bound for hell, against all wind and weather ? Or art thou one agoing backward thither ? Or dost thou wink, because thou would' st not see ? Or dost thou sideling go, and would' st not be Suspected? Yet these prophets can thee tell, "Which way thou art agoing down to hell. — (Acts viii. 20-22. Bunyan's House of God, vol. ii. p. 5S2.) 3 Notwithstanding By-ends could be reserved with faithful pilgrims, yet he can speak out boldly to those of his own spirit and character. O the treacherous deceiviugs of the desperate wickedness of the human heart ! Who can know it ? No one but the heart-searching God. — (Mason.) for his sake ? Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust. But he must not be such as the men before us, if they be as you have described them. Mr. Save-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more words about it.4 'Mr. Money-love. No, there needs no more words about this matter indeed; for he that believes neither Scripture nor reason (and you see we have both on our side), neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety.5 Mr. By-ends. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage ; and for our better diver- sion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question : Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, &c, should have an advantage lie before him, to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with before; may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest man ? Mr. Money-love. I see the bottom of your question ; and, with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape you an answer. And first to speak to your question as it concerns a minister himself: Suppose a minister, a worthy man, pos- sessed but of a very small benefice, and has in his eye a greater, more fat, and plump by far ; he has also now an opportunity of getting of it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more fre- quentl}', and zealously, and, because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of some of his principles ; for my part, I see no reason but a man may do this (provided he has a call), aye, and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why — 1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be contradicted), since it is set before him by Providence; so then, he may get it, if he can, making no question for conscience sake. 4 Some men's hearts are narrow upwards, and wide down- wards: narrow as for God, but wide for the world. They gape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other. The heart of a wicked man is widest downward ; but it is not so with the righteous man. His desires, like the temple Ezekiel saw in the vision, are still widest upwards, and spread towards heaven. A full purse, with a lean soul, is a great curse. Many, while lean in their estates, had fat souls ; but the fattening of their estates has made their souls as lean as a rake as to good. — (Bunyan's Righteous Mans Desires, vol. i. p. 745.) " This dialogue is not in the least more absurd and selfish than the discourse of many who now attend on the preaching of the gospel. If worldly lucre be the honey, they imitate the bee, and only attend to religion when they can gaiu by it ; they determine to keep what they have at any rate, and to get more, if it can be done without open scandal. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 135 2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a more zealous preacher, wHch some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the brink of the pit, the ground being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain ; some also had been maimed there, and could not, to their dying- day, be their own men again. Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the 1 Bunyan, in his Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity, thus addresses such characters : ' This is the man that hath the breath of a dragon ; he poisons the air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friend, and himself — be that offends God's little ones. 0 the millstone that God will shortly hang about your neck, when the time is come that you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath!'— (See vol. ii. p. 530.) The answer of Christian, though somewhat rough, is so conclusive as to fortify every honest mind against all the arguments which the whole tribe of time- serving professors ever did, or ever can adduce, in support of their ingenious schemes and insidious efforts to reconcile religion with covetousness and the love of the world, or to render it subservient to their secular interests. — (Scott.) 2 Here see the blessedness of being mighty in the Scripture, and the need of that exhortation, ' Let" the "Word of Christ dwell in you richly.' Col. iii. 10. For the Word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword ; it pierces through all the subtle devices of Satan, and the cunning craftiness of carnal professors ; and dividcth asunder the carnal reasonings of the llcsh, and the spiritual wisdom which cometh from above. Teach me, my God and King, In all things thee to see, And what I do in any thing To do it as for thee. — (Mason.) road, over against the silver mine, stood Deinas (gentleman-like) to call to passengers Demas at the to come and see; who said to Christian ^/^tochris- and his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, tianandHope- t T ... , . . o ful to come to and 1 will show you a thing. him. Chr. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it ? Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in 'it for treasure. If you will come, with a little pains you may richly provide for yourselves. Hope. Then said Hopeful, Let us Hopeful tempt- o-n spp * ed t0 s°' bnt b° see- Christkmholds Chr. Not I, said Christian, I have Mlu bacb- heard of this place before now ; and how many have there been slain ; and besides that, treasure is a snare to those that seek it ; for it hindereth them in their pilgrimage. Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous ? Hath it not hindered many in their pilgrimage ? He*, xiv. 8. Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless (but withal, he blushed as he spake). Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still keep on our way. Hope. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he hath the same invitation as Ave, he will turn in thither to see. Chr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that way, and a huudred to one but he dies there. Demas. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you not come over and see ? Chr. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy to the right christian ways of the Lord of this way, and roundeth up hast been already condemned for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges, 2 Tim. iv. io ; and why seekest thou to bring us into the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we would stand with boldness before him. Demas cried again. That he also was one of 3 The Hill Lucre stands somewhat out of the way, but temptingly near. They that will prolit by the mine must turn aside for it. Pr. xxviii. 20, 22. Sir J. Mandeville, in his Travels, says, that in the Vale Perilous is plenty of gold and silver, and many Christian men go in for the treasure, but few come out again, for this are strangled of the devil. But good Christian men, that are stable in the faith, enter without peril. —(Ed.) 4 Eve expected some sweet and pleasant sight, that woidd tickle and delight her deluded fancy ; but, behold sin, and the wrath of God, appear to the shaking of her heart ; and thus, even to this day, doth the devil delude the world. His temp- tations are gilded with sweet and fine pretences, that men shall be wiser, richer, more in favour, live merrier, fare better, or something ; and by such like things the fools are easily allured. But when their eyes are opened, instead of seeing what the devil falsely told them, they see themselves involved in wrath. — (Bunyan on Genesis, vol. ii. p. 431.) THE PILGRIM'S PROCRESS. 137 their fraternity ; and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself would walk with them. CllR. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? Ib it Dot the same hy the which 1 have called thee? Demas. Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son of Abraham Cm;. I know you ; Gchazi was your great-grand- father, and Judas your father; and you have trod in their steps. 9 Ki. v. 80. Mat. xxvi. it, 16; xxviL 1-6. It is hut a devilish prank that thou usest ; thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no hotter reward. Assure thyself, that when wc come to the King, we will do him word of this thy be- haviour. Thus they went their way. By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and they, at the first beck, By-ends goes wcnt ovcr to Demas. Now, whether over to Demas. they fell into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not certain ; but this I observed, that they never were seen again in the way.1 Then sang Christian — By-ends and silver Demas both agree ; One calls, the other runs, that he may be A sharer in his lucre ; so these do Take up in this world, and no further go. Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the Pilgrims came to a place where stood an Tliev BM a old monument, hard by the highway Btrange monu- side ; at the sight of which they were both concerned, because of the strange- ness of the form thereof ; for it seemed to them as if it had been a woman transformed into the shape of a pillar ; here therefore they stood looking, and looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should make thereof. At last Hopeful espied written above the head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand ; but he being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning ; so he came, and after a ' little laying of letters together, he found the same to be this, ' Remember Lot's wife.' So he read it to his fellow ; after which they both concluded that that was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife 1 Here you see the end of double-minded men, who vainly attempt to temper the love of money with the love of Christ. u with their art for a season, but the cud makes it manifest what they were. Take David's advice, ' 1 'n t nol thyself because of evil-doers.' Ps. xxxvii. 1. ' Be not thou afraid when one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased.' Ps. xlix. 1(5. But go thou into the sanctuary of thy God, read his Word, and understand the end of these men. — Often, as the motley reflexes of my experience move in long processions of manifold gror; - the distinguished and world-honoured company of Christ ian mammonists appear to the eye of c 1 as a drove of camels heavily laden, yet all at full speed ; and each in l ho confident expectation ( f passing through the eye of the needle, without stop or halt, . — (Coleridge.) VOL. III. was turned, for her looking baclc with a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for Bafety,8 Ge.xlx.26; which siulden and amazing sight gave them occasion of this discourse. Cnrt. Ah, my brother! this is a seasonable sight; it came opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave us to come over to view the Hill Lucre; and had we gone ovcr, as he desired us, and as thou wast inclining to do, my brother, wc had, for aught I know, been made ourselves like this woman, a spec- tacle for those that shall come after to behold. Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as Lot's wife ; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin and mine ? She only looked back; and I had a desire to go see. Let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed, that ever such a thing should be in mine heart. dm. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help for time to come. This woman escaped one judgment, for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom ; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see she is turned into a pillar of salt. HorE. True, and she may be to us both caution and example ; caution, that we should shun her sin; or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented by this caution ; so Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men that perished in their sin, did also become a sign or example to others to beware. Num. xxvi. 9, 10. But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking behind her, after (for we read not that she stepped one foot out of the way) was turned into a pillar of salt ; especially since the judgment which overtook her did make her an example, within sight of where they are ; for they cannot choose but see her, did they but lift up their eyes. Cim. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts arc grown desperate in the case ; and I cannot tell who to compare them to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets in the presence of the judge, or that will cut purses under the gallows. u It is said of the men of Sodom, that they were sinners exceedingly, because they were 2 I have sometimes wondered at Lot. His wife looked behind her, and died immediately ; bnt he would noi so as look behind him to see her. We do not read that he did so much as once look where she was, or what was become of her. His heart was set upon his journey; and well it might. There was the mountains before him, and the lire and brimstone behind him. His life lay at stake; and had he looked behind him he had lost it. Do thou so run, and 'rememo wife.' — (Bunyan's Heavenly Footman.) 3 Tn former times, the purse was carried hanging to a gudle round the waist, and great dexterity was requisite to cut and carry it away without the knowledge of the owner, i'ublie executions for theft had so little effect in repressing crime, that thefts were committed in sight of, or even under the fallows.— (Ed.) 18 13S THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. sinners before the Lord, that is, in his eyesight, and notwithstanding the kindnesses that he had showed them, Gen. xiii. id ; for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden heretofore. Gen. xiii. 10. This, therefore, provoked him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire of the Lord out of heaven could make it. And it is most rationally to be concluded, that such, even such as these arc, that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such examples that are set con- tinually before them, to caution them to the con- trary, must be partakers of severest judgments. Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth ; but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but espe- cially I, am not made myself this example! This ministereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear before him, and always to remember Lot's wife.1 I saw, then, that they went on their way to a pleasant river; which David the king- called 'the river of God,' but John 'the river of the water of life. ' Pu. i.w. 9. Re. xsii. Eze. si»ii. Now their way lay just upon the bank of the river ; here, therefore, Christian and his companion walked with great delight ; they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant, and enlivening to their weary spirits :3 besides, on the banks of this Trees i>y the river, on either side, were green trees, !'m7']'e'^s'Uof that bore all manner of fruit ; and the the trees. leaves of the trees were good for medi- cine ; with the fruit of these trees they were also much delighted ; and the leaves they eat to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by travels. On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously A weadow in beautified with lilies, and it was green which they lie all the year long. In this meadow ' they lay down, and slept; for here they might lie down safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruit of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep. Ps. »dil 2. is. ziv. o». Thus they did several days and nights.4 Then they sang — Beliold ye how these crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the highway side ; , The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, Yield dainties for them : and he that can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field. So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, as yet, at their journey's eud), they ate and drank, and departed.5 Now, I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river and the way for a time parted ; at which they were not a little sorry ; yet they durst not go out of the way. Now the way from the river was rough, and their feet tender, by reason of their travels ; ' so the souls of the pil- grims were much discouraged because of the way.' Nn. xsi. 4. Wherefore, still as they went on, they wished for better way.6 Now, a little before them, there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over into it ; and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian to his fellow, If this meadow y"pa lieth along by our way-side, let us go over into it.7 Then he went to the stile to see, and 0ne temptation behold, a path lay alone; by the way, does make way ,, .,x -j * .1 i. -r, • for another. on the otner side ot the fence. It is according to my wish, said Christian. Here is the easiest going ; come, good Hopeful, and let us go over. 1 Alas! poor pilgrims, like Peter, you soon forgot the judg- ment, although yoiir sight of Lot's wife had so affected your spirits. How soon you went into By-path Meadow ! ' where- fore, let him that thinketh he st andeth, take heed lest he fall.' 1 Co. x. 12.— (Ed.) 2 By this river, which is called 'a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb,' Re. xxii. 1, we may understand clear and comfortable views of God's everlasting love and electiug grace. They could see in it God's glory shining in the face of Jesus Christ, and view their own faces in it, to their inexpressible joy. This is the river 'the streams whereof make glad the city "of God.' Ps. xlvi. 4. The streams which flow from this river of elect- ing love, are vocation to Christ, justification by Christ, sancti- iieation in Christ, perseverance through Christ, glorification with Christ, and all joy and peace in believing on Christ. All this these pilgrims now enjoyed, and all this every fellow- citizen of the saints is called to enjoy iu his pilgrimage* to Zion. God hath chosen us in Christ, and blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Mm. O how happy, peaceful, and joyful arc pilgrims, when the Spirit takes of the things of Christ, shows them to us, and blesses us with a sense of interest in all the love of God, and finished salvation of Jesus! — (Mason.) 3 Blessed state indeed, but of short duration ! Too often these desirable consolations of the Spirit render the Christian careless aud anwatchful. — (Border.) i A scene to sootiie and calm a mind fretted and harassed with the cares and turmoils of this every-day world ; a sunny vista into the future, welcome iu a weary hour to the worn spirit, which longs, as for the wings of the dove, that it may flee away, and be at rest ; a glimpse of Sabbath quietness oil earth, given as a pledge aud foretaste of the more glorious and eternal Sabbath of heaven. — (Bernard Barton.) 5 Now had I an evidence, as I thought, of my salvation from heaven, with many golden seals thereon, all hanging in my sight. Now could I remember the manifestations of grace with comfort ; and longed that the last day were come, that I might for ever be inflamed with the sight, and joy, and com- munion with him, whose soul was made an offering for my sins. Before this I lay trembling at the mouth of hell ; now I had got so far therefrom that I could scarce discern it. 0, thought 1, that I were fourscore years old, that I might die quickly, and my soul be gone to rest. — (Grace Abounding, No. 128.) c They shotdd have said, It is true this way is not so plea- sant as the meadow, but it is the Lord's way, and the best, doubtless, for us to travel in. A man speedily enters into temptation when he becomes discontented with God's allot- ments; then Satan presents allurements, and from wishing for a better way, the sotd goes into a worse. The discontented wish is father to a sinful will ; / ivish for a letter is followed by, I will have a better, and so the soul goes astray. — (Chccver.) ' The transition into the by-path is easy, for it lies close to the right way; only you must get over a stile, that is, you must quit Christ's imputed righteousness, and trust in your own inherent righteousness; and then you are in By-path j Meadow directly. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S HIOGIIESS. 139 Hope. Cut how if this path should lead us out of the way?1 Cnu. That is not like, said the other. Look, Strong cinis- doth it not go along by the way-side? SSSftrt So Hopeful, being persuaded by his >• fellow, went after him over the stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the path, they found it very easy for their feet; and withal, they, looking before theni, espied a man walking as they did (and his name was Vain-con- fidence) ; so they called after him, and asked him See what it is whither that way led. He said, To lart^S *e Celestial Gate.2 Look, said Chris- Btrongere. tjan> JiJ not I tell you so ? By this you may sco we are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But, behold, the night came on, and it grew very dark; so that they that were behind, lost the sight of him that went before. He, therefore, that went before :; (Vain-confidence by name), not seeing the way before him, fell into a pit to catch a dccP I511' l3- ix- 1G' wllich was 0I1 PU1'- -slori- pose there made, by the Prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his fall.4 Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the matter, but there was none to answer; only they heard a groaning. Then Reasoning be- said Hopeful, Where arc avc now ? tianaud Hope- Then was his fellow silent, as mistrust- ful- ing that he had led him out of the way ; and now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten5 in a very dreadful manner; and the water rose amain.0 1 The best caution I can give to others, or take myself, is, not to be guided iu matters of faith by meu, but to make the .Scriptures our only rule— to look to God for the teaching of his blessed Spirit, that he may keep our feet from the ways of death.— (J. B.) - ' There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.' Fr. xiv. 12. Vain confidence is this very way. 0 how easy do professors get into it ! yea, real pilgrims are pror.c also to take up with it, owing to that legality, pride, and self-righteousness, which work in their fallen nature. Sec the end of it, and tremble ; for it leads to darkness, and ends in death. Lord, humble our proud hearts, and empty us of self-righteousness, pride, and vain confidence. — (.Mason.) 3 So, sometimes, real pilgrims take counsel and example of strangers, of worldly men, and of presumptuous careless per- sons. Vain confidence is a sad guide anywhere, but especially when one has wandered out of the way. — (Chcever.) * If thou be prying into God's secret decrees, or entertain questions about nice curiosities, thou niayest stumble and fall to thine eternal ruin. Take heed of that lofty spirit, that, devil-like, cannot be content with its own station. — (Heavenly Footman.) 1 The thunder and lightning plainly show that this by-path leads to Sinai, not to Ziou. One step over the stile, by giving way to a self-righteous spirit, and you enter the territories of despair. — (J. 13.) 0 How varied is the experience of a Christian! he had just before overcome Deinas, and conquered By-ends and his com- panions; is warned by Lot's wile, and now elated with the strength of his principles ; boldness takes the place of caution; lie ventures upon an easier path, and is involved iu misery. —(Ed.) Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, 0 that I had kept on my way! Cim. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of the way I Hope. I was afraid on it at the very fir therefore gave, you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older than J.' ClIR. Good brother, be not offended ; I am Borry I have brought thee out of the way, and „, . ,. , 1 T 1 • , . . (I"'*1' that 1 nave put thee into such immt- pentance for uent danger; pray, my brother, forgive. me ; I did not do it of an evil intent.8 tIu; way- HorE. Be comforted, my brother, for I f thee ; and believe too that this shall be for our good. Cim. 1 am glad I have with me a merciful brother; but we must not stand thus: let us try to go back again. Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. Ciir. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger, I may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the way. Hope. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first ; for your mind being troubled may lead you out of the way again. Then, for their encouragement, they heard the voice of one saying, 'Set thine heart toward the highway, even the way which thou wentest; turn again.' je. xxxi. 21. But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which the way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back, They are in but it was so dark, and the flood was ^X £ so high, that in their going back they &h 6° ^'ck: had like to have been drowned nine or ten times. :) Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night. Wherefore, at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there until the day-break ; but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was, not far „,, i- ii i ii i li,c;' irom the place where they lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, tho owner Lsl)a1'' whereof was Giant Despair;10 and it was in his • When Banyan pleaded, so energetically, for the communion of saints, irrespective of water-baptism, one of his arguments was, ' I be strongest may sometimes be out of the way.' ' Re- LC another as Christ also received us.' — (Vol.ii.p.610.) 8 Here see, that as Christians are made helpful, - through prevailing corruptions, they arc liable to prove hurtful to each other. But observe how grace works : it humbles, it makes the soul confess and be sorry for its misfortunes. Here is no reviling one another; but a tender sympathy as I concern for each other. (J the mighty power ot tha and truth which came by Jesus Christ ! How docs il ■ souls in the fellowship of love ! — (Mason.) 9 How easy it is to trace the path that led the pilgrims astray! To avoid the roughness of the way, th by-path, that by measures of carnal pi avoid aitlictions. Guided by \ ain-confidence, they were led from the road, and when this Vain-contidcncc was destroyed, they were involved in distress and danger. — (Ivimey.) iu The personification of Despair is one of the most in 140 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. grounds they now were sleeping: -wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, and walking up He finds them an(1 down in llis ^elds» caught Chris- iu ins ground, tian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. and carries m, .,. A . , , them to Doubt- Then, with a grim and surly voice, ing Castle. he b;d them awake . and asked thcm whence they were, and what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the Giant, You have this night trespassed on me, hy trampling in, and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, "because he was stronger than they.1 They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. The Giant therefore drove them before him, and J put them into his castle, into a very The grievous- 1 ' . . J ness of their dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to imprisonment. . . ., ,. . the spirits of these two men. rs.ixxxvm. is. Here then they lay from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they were therefore here in evil case, and were far from friends and acquaintance. Now in this place Chris- tian had double sorrow,2 because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress.3 tive and beautiful portions of Bunyan's allegory. It appeals either to every man's experience, or to every man's sense of what may come upon him, on account of sin. It is at once, in some respects, the very gloomiest and very brightest part of the ' Pilgrim's Progress ;' for it shows at once to what a depth of misery sin may plunge the Christian, aud also to what a depth the mercy of God in Christ may reach. The colouring of the picture is extremely vivid, the remembrance of it can never pass from the mind; and, as in a gallery of beautiful paintings, there may often be one that so strongly reminds you of your own experience, or that in itself is so remarkably beautiful as to keep you dwelling upon it with unabated interest ; so it is with this delineation of Giant Despair, among the many admir- able sketches of Bunyan's piety and genius. It is so full of deep life and meaning that you cannot exhaust it, and it is of such exquisite propriety and beauty that you are never tired with examining it. — (Cheever.) 1 Sooner or later Doubting Castle will be the prison, and Giant Despair the keeper of all those who turn aside from Christ and his righteousness, to trust in any wise in themselves, and to their righteousness. 'Our God is a jealous God,' ever jealous of his own glory, and of the honour of his beloved Son. —(Mason.) So under the old cut, illustrating the Pilgrims in Doubting Castle, are these lines: — ' The pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh, Will seek its ease ; but O ! "how they afresh Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into! Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo.* 2 Blessed sorrow ! how many are there who never tasted the bread of heaven, nor the water of life from the wells of salvation ; who arc strangers to the communion of saints, but do not feel themselves to be ' in evil case,' nor have wept under a sense of their wretched state. — (Ed.) 3 What ! such highly-favoured Christians in Doubting Castle ? After having travelled so far in the way of salvation, seen so many glorious things in the way, experienced so much of the grace and love of their Lord, and having so often proved his faithfulness ? Is not this strauge ? No ; it is common — the strongest Christians are liable to err and get out of the way, and then to be beset with very great and distressing doubts. — (Mason.) Despair, like a tremendous giant, will at last seize on Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence.4 So, when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done ; to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to do fur- ther to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound ; and he told her. Then she counselled him, that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without any mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, On Thursday, in such sort, that they were not able £? wfpri- to help themselves, or to turn them toners, upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn under their distress. So all that day they spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamenta- tions. The next night, she, talking with her hus- band about them farther, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner as before, and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them the clay before, he told them, that since they were never like to come out of that place, their only way would 0nFrida Ghl,fc be forthwith to make an end of them- Despair coun- selves, either with knife, halter, or km Cthem°- poison, for why, said he, should you selves- choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness ? 5 But they desired him to let them the souls of all unbelievers; and when Christians conclude, from some misconduct, that they belong to that company, they arc exposed to be taken captive by him. They do not, indeed, fall and perish with Yain-confidence ; but for a season they find it impossible to rise superior to prevailing gloomy doubts bor- dering on despair, or to obtain the least comfortable hope of deliverance, or encouragement to use the proper means of seeking it. — (Scott.) 4 The wife of Despair is Diffidence, or a distrust of God's faithfulness, and a want of confidence in his mercy. When a Christiau follows such counsels, gloom and horror of mind will be produced, and life become a burden. — (Ivimey.) 6 Bunyau, in one of his delightful treatises of comfort against despair, introduces the following striking colloquy: — ' Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou art one of the vilest in all the pack of professors ? Yes, says the sold, I do. Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou hast horribly sinned ? Yes, says the soul, I do. Well, saith Satan, now will I come upon thee with my appeals. Art thou not a graceless wretch ? l'es. Hast thou an heart to he sorry for this wickedness ? No, not as I should. And albeit, saith Satan, thou prayest sometimes, yet is not thy heart possessed with a belief that God will not regard thee? Yes, says the sinner. Why, then, despair, and go hang thyself, saith the devil. And now we are at the end of the thing designed and driven at by Satan. But what shall I now do, saith the sinner? I answer, take up the words of the text against him, ' That ye may be able to THE HI.G RIM'S PROGRESS. 1-U go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them himself, hut that he fell into one of his tits The Giant some- (for he sometimes, in sunshiny weather, tmushasfits. M\ int(1 fa^l .mi\ [oat for a ,;„„. ,],,. use of his hand; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before, to considerwhat to ilo. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it was hest to take his counsel or no; and thus tlu", i ■ ;i' to discourse: Cm;. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? Christian The life that we now live is miserable. crushed. por my y,ar{f I know not whether is hest, to live thus, or to die out of hand. ' My soul chooseth strangling rather than life,' and the grave is more easy for me than this dungeon. Job vii. 15. Shall we he ruled hy the Giant ? - IIor-E. Indeed, our present condition is dreadful, Hopeful com- and death would he far more welcome torts him. to me tjiau t]ms f0l. cvcr to aRitle . hut yet, let us consider, the Lord of the country to which we are going hath said, Thou shalt do no murder : no, not to another man's person ; much more, then, are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills another, can Imt commit murder upon his body ; hut for one to kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once. And, moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave; but hast thou forgotten the hell, whither for certain the murderers go ? For ' no murderer hath eternal life,' &c.3 And let us comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.' — (Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love, vol. ii. p. 37.) 1 Giant Despair, it seems, has fits in sunshiny weather; that is, a gleam of hope, from Christ the Sun of righteousness, sometimes darted into their minds. — (Burder.) - Satan and his angels will not be wanting to help forward the calamity of the man, who, iu coming to Christ, is beat out of breath, out of heart, out of courage, by wind that blows him backward. They will not be wanting to throw up his heels in their dirty places, nor to trouble his head with the fumes of q] breath. And now it is hard coming to God; Satan lias the art of making the most of every sin; lie can make e\ ery hair u;i the head as big as a cedar. But, soul, Christ can save unto the uttermost ! come, man, come. He can do exceeding ; ly above all we can ask or think.' — (Banyan's Complete Saviour, vol. i. p. 209.) Poor Christian ! what I tempted to destroy thyself? Lord, what is man! But see, despairing souls, mark the truth of that word, 'There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, wlio will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.' 1 Co. x. 13. — (Mason.) 3 Banyan had an acute sense of the exceeding sinfidncss of sin, and no saint had suffered more severely from despair. One of his great objects, iu most of his works, is to arm poor pilgrims against desponding fears. Thus, in his first treatise on Gospel Truths — ' He (the devil; wdl be sure to present to science the most sad sentences of the Scripture; yea, them home with such conning arguments, that if it Me he will make thee despair, and make away thyself as did JuJas.' — (Vol. ii. p. 132.) Sin, when seen in its colours, and when appearing in its monstrous shape aud hue, frighteth it "its, away from God, and, if he stops consider, again, that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I can under- stand, have been taken by him, as well as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, hut that God that made tin: world may cause that Giant Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in? or that he may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limhs ? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part, 1 am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do it hefore ; hut, how- ever, my brother, let us he patient, and endure a while. The time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us not be our own mur- derers. With these words, Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his brother; so they con- tinued together (in the dark) that day, iu their sad and doleful condition.4 Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel ; but when he came there, he found them alive ; and truly, alive was all ; for now, what for want of bread and water, and hy reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive ; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born. At this they trembled greatly,5 and I think that Christian fell into a swoon ;6 but, coming a little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the Giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now Christian again seemed to be for doing it,7 but Hopeful made his christian stili second reply as folio weth: — dejected. them not, also out of the world. This is manifest by Cain, Judas, Saul, and others. They fly from before God, oue to one fruit of despair, and one to another. — {Pharisee and Pub- lican, vol. ii. p. 200.) 4 Ah admirable chain of reasoning, pointing out the evils of despair, is to be found in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, vol. i. pp. 91, 92, under the head fifthly. ' It will make a man his own tormentor, and flounce and fling like a wild bull in a net. Is. Ii. 20. Despair! it drives a man to the study of his own ruin, and brings him at last to be his own executioner.' 2 Sa. x\ii. 23. -Mat. xxvii. 3-5. — (Ed.) 0 Alas, how changed ! Expressive of his mind, His eyes are sunk, arms folded, head reelin'd; Those awful syllables, hell, death, and sin, Though whisper'd, plainly tell what works n — (Cowper's 2 ' A wounded spirit who can bear ? ' 0 To bring the state of Christian's mind before us, rc.'d the lamentations of the Psalmist, when he was a prisoner iu Doubting Castle, under Giant Despair, iu Vs. lxxxviii.; aud Banyan's experience, as narrated iu No. 163 of Grace Abound- ing. Despair swallowed him up, and that passage fell like a hot thunderbolt upon his conscicuee, ' He was rejected, for he found no place for repentance.' — (lvimey.) 7 Dr. Donne, the celebrated Dean of St. raid's, had recently 14; THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hope. My brother, said lie, reraemberest thou „ . , not how valiant thon hast been hereto- Hopeful com- forts! lira again, fore? Apolljon could not crush thee, meAhmss °to nor could all that thou didst hear, remembrance. Qr gC(?> QJ, feel> in the yapey of the Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through ! And art thou now nothing but fear ! Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art; also, this Giant has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth ; and with thee I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little more patience ; remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain, nor cage, nor yet of bloody death. Wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as we can.1 Now, night being come again, and the Giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel. To which he replied, They are sturdy rogues, they choose rather to bear all hardship, than to make away themselves. Then said she, Take them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls of those that thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them.2 published a thesis, In prove that suicide, under some circum- stances, was justifiable. Hopeful answers all his arguments, and proves it to be the foulest of murders. Bunyan, in his treatise on Justification, vol. i. p. 314, thus notices the jailer's intent to commit suicide, when the doors of the prison in which Paul was confined were tin-own open: — 'Even now, while the earthquake shook the prison, he had murder in his heart — j murder, I say, and that of a high nature, even to have hilled his own body and soul at once.' — (Ed.) 1 Here is the blessing of a hopeful compemion ; here is excellent counsel. Let vain professors say what they may against looking back to past experiences, it is most certainly good and right so to do ; not to encourage present sloth and presumption, but to excite fresh confidence of hope iu. the Lord. "We have David's example, and Paul's word to encourage us to this, ' The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine,' 1 Sa. xvii. 37 ; and says Paul. ' We had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but iu God which raiseth the dead.' 2 Co. i. 9.— (Mason.) 2 It is a carious picture which Bunyan has drawn of the intercourse between the giant and his wife Diffidence. They form a very loving couple in their way ; and the giant takes no new step in the treatment of the pilgrims without consult- ing Mrs. Diffidence over night, so that the curtain lectnrcs to which we listen are very curious. But Mrs. Diffidence ought rather to have been called Dame Desperation, or Desperate Resolution; for she seems, if anything, the more stubborn genius of the two. — (Cheever.) By these conversations be- tween Diffidence and Despair, after they had retired to bed, Bunyan perhaps designed to intimate that, as melancholy per- sons seldom get rest at night, the gloominess of the season contributes to the distress of their minds. So Asaph com- So when the morning was come, the Giaut goes to them again, and takes them into the castle- yard, and shows them, as his wife had bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims as you . ' . r i • On Saturday, are, once, and they trespassed in my the Giant grounds, as you have done ; and when ftKtoto I thought fit, I tore them in pieces, «'oult\ Puil ° . . t mi j them in pieces. and so, within ten days, 1 will do you. Go, 'get you down to your den again ; and with that, he beat them all the way thither. They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before.3 Now, when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband, the Giant, were got to bed, they began to renew their dis- course of their prisoners ; and withal the old Giaut wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor his counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hope that some will come to relieve them, or that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear ? said the Giant ; I will, therefore, search them in the morning. Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.4 Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half-amazed, brake out in this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am T -i ± -\- • .• ^ • j A key in Chris* 1, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, turn's bosom, when I may as well walk at liberty ! JjKSStS I have a key in my bosom, called Pro- ^ Doubting •ii t Castle. mise, that will, 1 am persuaded, open any lock iu Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That is good news, good brother ; pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.0 plains: 'My sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.' Ps. Ixxvii. 2. — (Ivimey.) 3 How would the awful lesson of the man iu the iron cage, at the Interpreter's house, now recur to poor Christian's mind: ' I cannot get out, O now I cannot ! I left off to watch, and am shut up in this iron cage, nor can all the men in the world let me out.' Christian's answer to the despairing pilgrim now soon broke upon his memory: ' The Son of the Blessed is very pitiful.'— (Ed.) i What! Pray in the custody of Giant Despair, in the midst of Doubting Castle, and when their own lolly brought them there too ? Yes ; mind this, ye pilgrims, ye are exhorted, ' I will that men pray everywhere, without doubting.' 1 Ti. ii. 8. "We can be in no place but God can hear, nor in any circumstance but God is able to deliver us from. And be assured, that when the spirit of prayer comes, deliverance is nigh at hand. — (Mason.) Perhaps the author selected Satur- day at midnight for the precise time when the prisoners begaa to pray, in order to intimate that the preparation for the Lord's day, which serious persons are reminded to make for its sacred services, are often the happy means of recovering those that have fallen into sin and despondency. — (Scott.) 6 All at once, by a new revelation, which none but the Sa- viour could make, Christian finds the promises. Cin'ist had been watching over his erring disciples — he kept back the hand of Despair from destroying them — he binds up the broken heart, and healcth all their woimds. — (Cheever.) As THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 113 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, ami began to try at the dungeon door, whose holt (as he turned the key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and, with his key, opened that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, for that must he opened too; but that look went damnable hard,1 yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed, but that gate, as it openeil, made such a creaking, that it waked C.iiant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them.- Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction^ Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do a1 that stile, to prevent tho.se that should come after, from falling into the hands of Giant Despair.4 : rs all the intricate wards of a lock, and throws back ! its bolts, so the precious promises of God iu his Word, if turned by the. strong hand of faith, will open all the doors which unbelief and despair have shut upon us. — (Burder.) 1 Bunyan was a plain-spoken man, and feared not to offend delicate ears when truth required honest dealing. In his trea- tise on the Law and Grace, he says : ' And therefore, my brethren, seeing God, our lather, hath sent us, damnable trai- tors, a pardon from heaven, even all the promises of the gospel, and hath also sealed to the certainty of it with the heart-blood of his dear Son, let us not be daunted. — (Vol. i. p. 562.) - Precious promise ! The promises of God in Christ arc the life of faith, and the quickeners of prayer. O how oft do we neglect God's great and precious promises in Christ Jesus, while doubts and despair keep us prisoners ! So it was with these pilgrims; they were kept under hard bondage of soul for four days. Hence see what it is to grieve the Spirit of God; for he only is the Comforter: and if he withdraws his influ- ences, who or what can comfort us? Though precious pro- mises are revealed iu the Word, yet we can get no comfort from them but by the grace of the Spirit. — (Mason. J 8 It was Sabbath morning. The sun was breaking over the hills, and fell upon their pale, haggard countenances, l! was to them a new creation; they breathed (lie fresh, reviving air, and brushed, with hasty steps, the dew from the untrodden grass, and fled the nearest way to the stile, over which they had wandered. They bad harried a lesson by suffering, which nothing else could have taught them, and which would remain with them to the day of their death.— (Cheever.) The expe- rience of these ' three or four' dreadful days is specially re- corded in Grace Abounding, Kos. 2G1-2G3. The key which opened the doors in Doubting Castle was these words, applied with power to his soul, ' I must go to Jesus,' in connection with He. xii. 22-21. Of the first night of his deliverance he says, ' I could scarcely lie in my bed for joy and peace, and triumph through Christ.' — (Ed.) 1 They fell to devising what soldiers, and how ninny, Diabolus should go against Mansoul with, to take it ; and afl debate, it was concluded that n ■ 1 hat expe- than an army of terrible doi I concluded to send against Mansoul an army of sturdj Diabolus was to beat up his i ten iu the Land of Doubt id lieth upon the - of a place called Hell-gate Hill. I over the election doubters ; his ; his stand- ard-bearer was Mr. Destructive ; and the great red dragon he had for his scutcheon. Captain Fury v. as over the vocation So they consented to erect there a pillar, and t-> engrave upon the side thereof this .... ° * ...... A pulax erected sentence — ' Over this stile is the way by l ; to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy his holy pilgrims.' Many, therefore, that followed after, read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follows: — Out of the way we went, and then we found "What 'twas to tread upon forbidden grouud; And let them that come after have a care, Lest heedlessness makes them, as wc, to fare. Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are, "Whose castle 's Doubting, and whose name 's Despair. They went then till they came to the Delect- able Mountains, which mountains be- Hie DelectaWe long to the Lord of that hill of which Mountains. we have spoken before ; so they went up to the mountains, to behold the gardens and orchard.-, the vineyards and fountains of water ; where also they drank and washed themselves, They are refreshed and did freely cat of the vineyards.6 m *" ' Now there were on the tops of these mountains, shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The Pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves (as is com- mon with weary pilgrims, when they stand to talk with any by the way), they asked, Talk with the Whose Delectable Mountains are Shepherfs. these ? And whose be the sheep that feed upon them ? Smsr. These mountains are Immanucl's Land, and they are within sight of his city ; and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for them. Ju. x. n. Cnn. Is this the way to the Celestial City ? SnEr. You are just in your way. Cnn. How far is it thither ? Siiep. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed. Ciik. Is the way safe or dangerous ? Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; ' but the transgressors shall fall therein.'0 Ho.xir.9. doubters; his standard-bearer was darkness; his colours were | pale ; and his scutcheon the fiery flying serpent. Captain Dam- nation was over the grace doubters ; his were the red eoloirs ; Mr. No-life bore them ; his scutcheon was the Black ] 1 — {Holy 0 When offending Christians are brought to deep ancc, renewed exercises of lively faith, and willing i ! | * restores to them the joy of his salvation,' a 1 1 - become more abundant and pertnane sent those calm of peace and comfort.— : 0 O how man] row weary of the way, fall short, ! Though thi too strait, and too narrow for many who set out, and never hold out to the end ; yet all who are begotten by the A\ ord of grace, and bom of the Spirit of truth, shall persevere to the 144 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. Is there, in this place, any relief for pil- grims that are weary and faint in the way ? Siiep. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to he 'forgetful to entertain strangers,' He. xffi. 2; therefore the good of the place is before you. I saw also in my dream, that when the Shep- herds perceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, to which they made answer as in other places ; as, Whence came you ? And, How got you into the way ? And, By what means have you so persevered therein ? For hut few of them that begin to come hither, do show their face on these mountains. But when the Shepherds heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, The shepherds and said, Welcome to the Delectable income them. Mountains.1 The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Know- The names of ledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sin- the Shepherds. cerGj took them by the hand) anj had them to their tents, and made them partake of that which was ready at present.2 They said, more- over, We would that ye should stay here a while, to be acquainted with us ; and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. They then told them that they were content to stay ; so they went to their rest that night, because it was very late. Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the Shepherds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains : so they went forth with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant prospect on every side. Then said the They are sure* Shepherds one to another, Shall we wonders. show these Pilgrims some wonders ? So when they had concluded to do it, they had The Mountain them first to the top of a hill called of Error. Error, which was very steep on the furthest side, and bid them look down to the bot- end, being kept by the mighty power of God, through faith, unto eternal salvatiou. 1 Pe. i. 5. — (Mason.) 1 There is in this laconic description of the homely dreamer a richness of beauty which no efforts of the artist' can ade- quately portray; and in the concise dialogue of the speakers, a simple sublimity of eloquence which any commentary could only weaken. While our feelings are excited by this descrip- tion, we cannot but remember that ' eye hath not seen, nor car heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. — (Bernard Barton.) 2 Precious names ! "What is a pilgrim without knowledge ? What is head-knowledge without heart-experience ? And watchfulness and sincerity ought to attend us every step. When these graces are in us and abound, they make delectable mountains indeed. — (Mason.) 3 This was Bunyan's note ; but, after his decease, it, was altered in 1707 to ' shown wonders,' and so has continued to the present time. The author's meaning was, that these wonders were real, undoubted, sure. Prom the introduction of this note to the time of Bunyan's death, he continued the word ' sore.' — (Ed.) torn. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all to pieces by a fall that they had from the top. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? The Shepherds answered, Have you not heard of them that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus and Philetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrec- tion of the body ? 2 Ti. ii. 17, is. They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are they ; and they have continued to this day unburied, as you see, for an example to others to take heed how they clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink of this moun- tain.4 Then I saw that they had them to the top of another mountain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off ; 5 which, when they did, they perceived, as they thought, several men walking up and down among the tombs that were there ; and they perceived that the men were blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and because they could not get out from among them.G Then said Christian, What means this ? The Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little below these mountains a stile that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way ? They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, From that stile there goes a path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, and these, pointing to them among the tombs, came once on pilgrimage as you do now, even till they came to that same stile ; and because the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into Doubting Castle: where, after they had been a while kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day, that the saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, ' He that wandereth out of the way of understanding, shall remain in the congregation of the dead.' 4 Pine-spun speculations and curious reasonings lead men from simple truth and implicit faith into many dangerous and destructive errors. — (Mason.) s It is well for us to be much on this mount. "We have constant need of caution. Take heed and beware, says our Lord. Paul takes the Corinthians up to this Mount Caution, and shows them what awful things have happened to professors of old ; and he leaves this solemn word for us, ' Wherefore, let him that thinketh he staudeth, take heed lest he fall.' 1 Co. x. 12.— (Mason.) 6 O the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and ter- rors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt, yield- ing to desperation ! This is the man that hath his dwelling among the tombs with the dead, that is always crying out, and cutting himself with stones. Mar. v. 3. But all in vain; de- speration will not comfort him, the old covenant will not save him. — {Grace Abounding, No. 185.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 14S Pr. ixi. lc.1 Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the Shepherds.2 Then I saw in my dream, that the Shepherds had them to another place, in a bottom, where was a door in the side of a hill, and they opened the door, and bid them look in. They looked in, therefore, and saw that within it was very dark and smoky ; they also thought that they heard there a rumbling noise as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and that they smelt the scent of brim- stone. Then said Christian, What means this ? A. by-way to The Shepherds told them, This is a by- HelL wav £0 ]ie,\]t a way tjiat; hypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with Esau; such as sell their master, with Judas; such as blaspheme the gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife.3 Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive that these had on them, even every one, a show of pilgrimage, as we have now ; had they not? Siiep. Yes, and held it a long time too. Hope. How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast away ? Siiep. Some further, and some not so far, as these mountains.* Then said the Pilgrims one to another, We had need to cry to the Strong for strength. Siiep. Aye, and you will have need to use it, when you have it, too. 1 Some retain the name of Christ, and the notion of him as a Saviour ; but cast him off in the very things wherein the essential parts of his sacrifice, merits, and priesthood consist. In this lies the mystery of their iniquity. They dare not alto- gether deny that Christ doth save his people, as a Priest ; but then their art is to confound his offices, until they jostle out of doors the merit of his blood and the perfection of his justi- fying righteousness. Such draw away the people from the cross (put out their eyes), and lead them among the infidels. — (Bunyan's Israel's Hope, vol. i. p. 615.) 2 Probably to guard pilgrims against the Popish doctrine of auricular confession. — (Ed.) 3 Those seem to shun the common broad road ; but hav- ing only the mark of religion, while their hearts are not right with God, are as effectually ruined as the most profligate and open offenders. — (Burder.) * Thus we read of some who were once enlightened, and had tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the world to come. He. vi. 6. It is hard to say how far or how long a person may carry on a profession, and yet fall away, and come short of the kingdom at last. This should excite to diligence, humility, and circumspection, ever looking to Jesus to keep ns from falling. — (Mason.) * It reflects the highest credit on the diffidence of Bunyan's genius — a genius as rich in its inventions, and as aspiring in its imaginative flights, as ever poet could possess or lay claim to — that, after such an exordium, he should have made no effort minutely to describe what was in its own splendour of glory indescribable. How beautifully, without exciting any disappointment in a reader of taste, feeling, and judgment, does he, by a few artless words, render most impressive and sublime, what" more elaborate description could only have made con- fused and unsatisfactory. Nothing can be more admirable VOL III. By this time the rilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the Shepherds a desire they should; so they walked together towards the end of tho mountains. Then said the Shepherds one to an- other, Let us here show to the Pilgrims tho gates of tho Celestial City, if they have The Shepherds' skill to look through our perspective Pcr9Pective gi"»*- glass.5 Tho Pilgrims then lovingly accepted tho motion; so they had them to tho top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave them •v • i ~- x i l The inu Clear- their glass to look. Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of that last thing that tho Shepherds had showed them, made their hands shako ; by The fruits of means of which impediment, they servile fear, could not look steadily through the glass; yet they thought they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of the place.6 Then they went away, and sang this song — Thus, by the Shepherds, secrets are reveal'd, Which from all other men are kept conceal'd. Come to the Shepherds, then, if you would sec Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.7 When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of the way. An- other of them bid them beware of the ^ twofold Flatterer. The third bid them take heed cauti0n- that they sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them God speed. So I awoko from my dream.8 than this brief and indistinct report of the perspective glass ; it cannot offend the most fastidious taste, yet leaves scope for the exercise of the most ardent and aspiring imagination. — (Bernard Barton.) 0 Such mountains round about this house do stand As one from thence may see the Holy Land. — (Bunyan's House of God, vol. ii. p. 579.) 7 After going through the conflict with Apollyon, the Val- ley of the Shadow of Death, the scenes in Vanity Fair, and tho dread experience of the pilgrims in Giant Despair's Castle, it is well to note what a gallery of solemn eealities is here, what a system of Divine truth, commending itself to all men's consciences. It is not so much the richness of imagination, nor the tenderness of feeling here exhibited, nor the sweetness and beauty of the imagery, with which this book is filled, as it is the presence of these realities that constitutes the secret of its unbounded power over the soul. Walk up and down in this rich and solemn gallery. How simple are its ornaments I How grave, yet beautiful, its architecture! Amidst all this deep, serene beauty to the imagination, by how much deeper a tone do these pictures speak to the inner spiritual being of the sod 1 When you have admired the visible beauty of the paintings, turn again to seek their meaning in that light from eternity by which the artist painted them, and by which he would have all men examine their lessons, and receive and feel the full power of their colouring. In this light, the walls of this gallery seem moving with celestial figures speaking to the sold. They are acting the drama of a life which, by most men, is only dreamed of; but the drama is the reality, and it is the spectators only who are walking in a vain show — (Cheever.) •» This is the first break in the dream, and, doubtless, had an important meaning. Perhaps the pilgrimage may be divided into four parts : 1. The convert flying from the wrath to come; instructed at the Interpreter's house; relieved of bis 146 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two Pilgrims going down the mountains along the highway towards the city. Now, a little below The Country of these mountains, on the left hand, whLeifca°me0f lieta tlie country of Conceit;1 from Ignorance. which country there comes into the way in which the Pilgrims walked, a little crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk lad, that came out of that country ; and his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked him from what parts he came, and whither he was going. -,..,. , Ignor. Sir, I was born in the coun- Cnnstian and ' i^noraucehave try that heth off there, a little on the left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City. Chk. But how do you think to get in at the gate ? for you may find some difficulty there. Ignor. As other good people do, said he. Chr. But what have you to show 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 ; The ground of => • i ■, • i ignorance's 1 pray, last, pay tithes, and give alms, ope- and have left my country for whither I am going.2 Ciir. But thou earnest not in at the wicket-gate that is at the head of this way ; thou earnest in hither through that same crooked lane, and there- fore, I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning day shall come, thou wilt have 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 burden at the cross ; ascends the Hill Difficulty ; overcomes his timidity ; and, 2. Enters a church at the House Beautiful ; and, as a private member, continues his journey, until, 3. He meets Evangelist, near Vanity Fair, and is found fit to become an itinerant preacher ; in which calling he suffers persecution, and obtains that fitness which enables him, 4. On the De- lectable Mountains, to enter upon the responsible duties of a ministering elder or pastor of a church, and is ordained by Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere. Is this com- mencement of his public labours the important point when the author ' awoke from his dream ? ' — (Ed.) 1 This country we are all born in ; all are ignoramuses by nature. Some live long in the country of Conceit, and many end their days in it. Are you come out of it ? So was Ignor- ance ; but he breathed his native air. So long as a sinner thinks he can do anything towards making himself righteous before God, his name is Ignorance; he is" full of self-conceit, and destitute of the faith of Christ. — (Mason.) 2 Now, is it not very common to hear professors talk at this rate ? Yes, and many who make a very high profession too ; their hopes are plainly grounded upon what they are in themselves, and how they differ from their former selves and other sinners, instead of what Christ is to us and what we are in Christ. But the profession of such is begun with an ignor- ant, whole, self-righteous heart ; it is continued in pride, self- seeking, and self-exalting, and ends in awful disappointment. Eor such are called by our Lord thieves and robbers ; they rob him of the glory of his grace and the gift of his imputed righteousness. — (Mason .) of your country, and I will follow the religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And He gaith to as for the gate that you talk of, all the every one that 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, ' Tliere is more hope of a fool than of him.' Pr. xxvi. 12. And said, moreover, • When he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one tliat he is a fool. ' Ec. x. 3. What, shall we talk further with him, or out-go How to carry it him at present, and so leave him to toafoo1' think of what he hath heard already, and then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good to him ? Then said Hopeful — Let Ignorance a little while now muse On what is said, and let him not refuse Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain Still ignorant of what's the chiefest gain. God saith, those that no understanding have, Although he made them, them he will not save. Hope. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say all to him at once ; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he is able to bear it.3 So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now when they had passed him a little way, they entered into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying of him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill.4 Mat. xii. 45. Pr. v. 22. Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did Hopefid his companion ; yet as the devils led away the man, Christian looked to see if he knew him ; and he thought _ , . . .. ' o The destruction it might be one Turn-away, that dwelt of one Turu- in the town of Apostasy. But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his head like a thief that is found.5 But being once past, 8 It is best not to converse much at once with persons of this character, but, after a few warnings, to leave them to their reflections ; for their self-conceit is often cherished by alter- cations, in which they deem themselves very expert, however disgusting their discourse may prove to others. — (Scott.) 4 An awful scene was beheld by the pilgrims. A professor, named Turn- away, bound with seven cords, was led by devils to the by-way to hell. Let every one inquire, Who is this wanton professor? — He who discovers a trifling, worldly, wanton spirit, dreads not the appearance of evil, complies with the fashions of the carnal world, and associates with the enemies of our Lord ; and, in time, becomes a damnable apos- tate. Lord, keep us from such a beginning and such an end 1 — (Burder.) 6 The ' very dark lane' in which ' Turn-away' was met by the pilgrims, represents the total darkness of the minds of THE riLG KIM'S PROGRESS. M7 Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his hack a paper with this inscription, ' Wanton professor, and damnable apostate.'1 Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remcinhrance, that which was told me of a thing that happened to a good Chriatiantallet]) man hereabout. The name of the man !r ed with chariots, and hones, and weapons of defence, yet afraid of being sparrow-blasted, or overrun by a grasshopper?' — (VoL ii. p. 13.; 3 Who can stand iu the evil day of temptation, when beset with Faiut-hcart, Mistrust, and Guilt, backed by the power of t heir master, Satan? No one, unless armed with the whole armour of God; and even then, the power of such infernal foes makes it a hard light to the Christian. Hut this is our Hope. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one Great-grace was in the way.4 Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-grace hath but appeared; and no marvel ; for he is the King's xi,c Kj„„.g Champion. But, I trow,5 you will Champion. put some difference betwixt Little-faith and tho King's Champion. All the King's subjects are not his champions, nor can they, when tried, do such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that a little child should handle Goliah as David did ? Or that there should be the strength of an ox iu a wren ? Some are strong, some arc weak ; somo have great faith, some have little. This man was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the wall. Hope. I would it had been Great-grace for their sakes. Cim. If it had been, he might have had his hands full ; for I must tell you, that though Great- grace is excellent good at his weapons, and has, and can, so long as he keeps them at sword's point, do well enough with them ; yet, if they get within him, even Faint-heart, Mistrust, or the other, it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man is down, you know, what can he do ? Whoso looks well upon Great-grace's face, shall see those scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of what I say. Yea, once 1 heard that he should say (and that when he was in the combat), ' We despaired even of life.'6 How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar ? Yea, Heman and Hezekiah, too, though champions in their day, were forced to bestir them, when by these assault- ed; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time, would go try what he could do ; but though some do say of him that he is the prince of the apostles, they handled him so, that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. Besides, their king is at their whistle. He is never out of hearing ; and if at any time they bo put to the worst, he, if possible, comes iu to help glory, the Lord shall fight for us, and we shall hold our peace. We shall be silent as to ascribing any glory to ourselves, know- ing our very enemies are part of ourselves, and that we are more than conquerors over all these (only) through Him who loved us. Ro. viii. 37. — (Mason.) 4 'One Great-grace;' a believer, or minister, who having honourably stood his ground, endeavours to restore the fallen. The remembrance of such, helps to drive away despondency, and inspires the trembling penitent with hope of mercy. — (Scott.) * ' I trow;' I imagine or believe : nearly obsolete. 6 Now here you see what is meant by Great-grace, who is so often mentioned iu this book, and by whom so many valiant things were done. We read, ' With great power the apostles gave witness of the resurrection of Jesus.' Vt hy was it r Be- cause ' great grace was upon them all.' Ac. iv. 33. So you see all is of grace, from first to last, in salvation. H we do great things Ear Christ, yet, not unto us, but uuto the great grace oi oiu- Lord, be all the glory.— (Mason.) 150 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. them ; and of him it is said, ' The sword of him Leviathan's that layeth at him cannot hold ; the sturdiness. Spear) the jart> nor the habergeon : he «steemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee ; sling stones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble : he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.' Job xii. 26-29. What can a man do in this case ? It is true, if a man could, at every turn, have Job's horse, and had skill and courage to ride him, he might do notable things ; ' for his neck is clothed „u „ . with thunder, he will not be afraid of The excellent ' „ . . mettle that is the grasshopper ; the glory ot his in Job's horse. nostrils zs terrible ; he paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glit- tering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha ! and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting. ' Job xxxix. 19—25. But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could do better, when we hear of others that they have been foiled, nor be tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood; for such commonly come by the worst when tried.1 Witness Peter, of whom I made mention before. He would swag- ger, aye, he would ; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and stand more for his Master than all men ; but who so foiled, and run down by these villains, as he ? 2 WThen, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King's highway, two things become us to do: 1. To go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield Avith us ; for it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make him yield ; for, indeed, if that be want- 1 If we saw our own weakness, we should never court dangers, nor rim iu the way of temptation ; yet, if our tempta- tions be ever so sharp and strong, and our dangers ever so great, if the Lord is our strength, we need not fear. — (J. B.) 2 From this sweet and edifying conversation, learn not to think more highly of yourself than you ought to think ; but to think soberly, according to the measure of faith which God hath dealt to you. Ro. xii. 3. Now, it is of the very essence of faith to lead us out of all self-confidence and vain vaunting. For we know not how soon Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt may spring up in us, and rob us of our comforts, and spoil our joys. — (Mason.) a Instead of saying, ' Though all men deny thee, yet will not I,' it behoves us to use all means of grace diligently, and to he instant in prayer, that the Lord himself may protect us by his power, and animate us by his presence, and then only shall we be enabled to overcome both the fear of man and the temptations of the devil. — (Scott.) 4 But how contrary to this is the walk and conduct of some who profess to be pilgrims, and yet can wilfully and deliberately go upon the devil's ground, and indulge themselves in carnal ing, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had skill hath said, ' Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. ' Ep. vi. 16. 2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy,3 yea, that he will go with n is g00a to us himself. This made David rejoice Uave a couv°y- when in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; and M'oses was rather for dying where he stood, than to go one step without his God. Ex. xxxm. 15. 0 my brother, if he will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten thousands that shall set them- selves against us ? Ps. m. 5-8; xxvii. 1-3. But, with- out him, the proud helpers ' fall under the slain.' Is. x. 4. I, for my part, have been in the fray before now; and though, through the goodness of him that is best, I am, as you see, alive ; yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Glad shall I be, if I meet with no more such brunts ; though, I fear, we are not got beyond all danger.4 However, since the lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also deliver us from the next uncir- cumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian — Poor Little-faith 1 Hast been among the thieves ? Wast rohb'd ? Remember this, whoso believes, And gets more faith, shall then a victor be Over ten thousand, else scarce over three. So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then till they came at a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, Away, and a and seemed withal to lie as straight way- as the way which they should go ; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed straight before them ; therefore, here they stood still to consider. And as they were The flatterer thinking about the way, behold a man, ***» tUem- black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came to them, and asked them why they stood there.5 They answered, they were going to the pleasures and sinful diversions ! Such evidently declare in plain language, that they desire not the presence of God, but that he should depart from them ; but a day will come which will bring on terrible reflections of mind for such things. — (Mason.) 6 Mr. Ivimey's opinion is, that this ' way which put itself into their way,' and the flatterer, relates to Antinomianism. Of this I can form no accurate judgment, never having met with an Autiuomian, or one who professed to be against the law of God. I have metwith those who consider that believers are bound to prefer the law of God as revealed by Jesus Christ, in Mat. xxii. 37-40, to be their rule of life, instead of limiting them- selves to the law of God as given by Moses, in Ex. xx.; but it has been for this reason, that the law proclaimed by Christ unites in it the law given by Moses, and all the law and the prophets. This law, as given by Christ, is in a few words of beautiful simplicity, which can neither be misunderstood nor be forgotten. Mason says, ' It is plain the author means the way of self-righteousness,' into wliich the flatterer enticed the pilgrims, out of the Scripture highway to heaven, in the righteousness of Christ. When ministers ditfer, private Christians must think for themselves. My judgment goes with Mr. Mason.— (Ed.) This THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 151 Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. Follow me, said the man, it is thither Christian and tlmt 1 am S°'WS- So thcy Allowed ins fellow do- him in the way that but now came in- to the road, which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the city that they desired to go to, that, in little time, their faces were turned away from it ; yet they followed him. But by and by, before thcy were aware, he led them both They arc taken within the compass of a net, in which m a net. ti)ey wore ^oi^ so cntangled, that they knew not what to do ; and with thai the white robe fell off the black man's back. Then they saw where they were. Wherefore, there they lay crying some time, for they could not get them- selves out.1 Chr. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do Tiiey bewail I see myself in an error. Did not the their condition. Shepherds bid us beware of the flatter- ers ? As is the saying of the wise man, so we have found it this day, 'A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet.' rr. xxix. 5. Hope. They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more sure finding thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the paths of the de- stroyer. Here David was wiser than we; for, saith he, • Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer.' Ps. xv». 4. Thus they lay bewail- ing themselves in the net. At last they espied A shining one a Shining One coming towards them, wiXawiupCui with a whip of small cord in his hand. his hand. When he was come to the place where they were, he asked them whence they came, and what they did there. They told him that they were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their way by a black man, clothed in white, who bid us, said they, follow him, for he was going thither too. Then said he with the whip, It is Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed himself into an angel of light. Pr. xxix. 5. Da. xi. 32. 2 Co. xL 13, 14. So he rent the net, and let the men way, which seemed as straight as the right way, and in enter- ing on which there was no stile to be passed, must denote some very plausible and gradual deviation from the simplicity of the gospel, in doctrine or practice. If, in such a case, instead of a personal prayerful searching the Scripture, we rely upon the opinion of our friends, and listen to the flatterer, we shall certainly be misled. — (Scott.) 1 Luther was wont to caution against the white devil as much as the black one; for Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, and his ministers as ministers of righteousness. 2 Co. xi. 14, 15. And how do they deceive souls? By flattery. Leading poor sinners into a line notion of some righteous character they have in themselves, what great advances they hare made, ami what high attainments they have arrived to, even to be perfect in themselves, to be free from sin, and full of nothing but love. These are black meu clothed iu white. — (Mason.) out. Then said ho to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way again. So he led them back to the way which they had left to follow the Flatterer. Then he asked them, saying, Whore did you lie the last night ? They said, They an at- With the Shepherds, upon the Delect- Kta3 able Mountains. He asked them then, i'or-.iiuh„ -,. if they had not of those Shepherds a note of direc- tion for the way. They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and read your note? They answered, No. lie asked them, Why ? They said, they forgot. Ho asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did not bid them beware of the Flatterer. They Deceivers fine answered, Yes, but we did not imagine, W*"* said thcy, that this fine-spokeu man had been be.8 Ro. xvi. 18. Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie down ; which, when they ™. , . did, he chastised them sore, to teach a»J seat aa them the good way wherein they should walk, De. xxv. 2; and as he chastised them, he said, ' As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous, therefore, and repent.' Re. hi. 19. 2 Ch. >i. 26, 27. This done, he bid them go on their way, and take good heed to the other directions of the Shepherds.. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way, singing — Come hither, you that walk along the way ; See how the pilgrims fare that go astray ! They catched are in an entangling net, 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget: 'Tis true, they rescued were, but yet you see, They're scourg'd to boot. Let this your caution be. Now, after a while, they perceived, afar off, one coming softly and alone, all along the highway to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow, Yonder is a man with his back toward Zion, and he is coming to meet us. Hope. I see him, let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove a flatterer also. So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last The Atheist came up unto them. His name was meets lhKm- 2 By this shining one understand the loving Lord the Holy Ghost, the leader and guide of Christ's people. 'When they err and stray from Jesus the way, and are drawn from hini as the truth, the Spirit comes with his rod of conviction and chas- tisement, to whip souls for their self-righteous pride and folly, back to Christ, to trust wholly in him, to rely only on him, and to walk in sweet fellowship with him. So he acted by the Galatian church, which was flattered into a notion of sell- righteousness, and sclf-justihcation. So David, whin he found himself nearly lost, cries out, ' He restoreth my soul : he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.' Ps. xxiii. 3.— (Mason.) The devil, in his attempts after our destruction, maketh use of the most suitable means. The ser- pent, Adam knew, was subtle, therefore Satan aseth him, there- by to catch this goodly creature, man. Hereby the devil least appeared [this fine-spoken man], and least appearing, the temptation soonest took the tinder. — (liunyau ou GenOU, vol. ii. p. l-S.j 152 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Atheist, and he aslted them whither they were going. Chr. We are going to the Mount Zion. He laughs at Then Atheist fell into a very great them- laughter. Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter ? Atheist, I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey, and yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains. They reason to- Chr. Why, man, do you think we gether- shall not he received? Atheist. Received! There is no such place as you dream of in all this world.1 Chr. But there is in the world to come. Atheist. When I was at home in mine own country, I heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this city this twenty years ; but find no more of it than I did the first day I set out. Je. xxii. 12. Ec. x. 15. Chr. We have both heard and believe that there is such a place to be found. Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to seek ; but finding none (and yet I should, had there been such a place to The Atheist be found, for I have gone to seek it contents this further than you), I am going back world. again, and will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that which, I now see, is not.2 ciuistianproveth Ciir. Then said Christian to Hopeful his brother. hig M()^ jg jj ^ ^^ ^ ^ hath said ? Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers ; Hopeful's gra- remember what it hath cost us once cious answer. already for our hearkening to such kind of fellows. What ! no Mount Zion ? Did we 1 The backsliding of a Christian comes through the overmuch persuading of Satan and lust ; that the man was mistaken, and that there was no such horror in the things from which he fled ; nor so much good in the things to which he hasted. Turn again, fool, says the devil. I wonder what frenzy it was that drove thee to thy heels, and that made thee leave so much good behind thee as other men find in the lusts of the flesh and the good of the world. As for the law, and death, and the day of judgment, they are but mere scarecrows, set up by politic heads, to keep the ignorant in subjection. Well, he goes back, fool as he is, conscience sleeps, and flesh is sweet ; but, behold, he again sees his own nakedness— he sees the law whetting his axe— the world is a bubble. He also smells the brimstone which begins to burn within him. Oh 1 saith he, I am deluded! 'Have mercy upon me, O GoAl'—{CAmt a Complete Saviour, vol. i. p. 223.) 2 A wicked man, though he may hector it at times with his proud heart, as though he feared neither God nor hell ; yet again, at times, his soul is even drowned with terrors. If one knew the wicked, when they are under warm convictions, then the bed shakes on which they lie ; then the proud tongue doth falter in their mouth, and their knees knock one against another. Then their conscience stares, and roars, and tears, and arraigns them. O ! none can imagine what fearful plights a wicked man is in at times 1— (Buuyan's Desires of ' the Righteous, vol. i. p. 746.) not see, from the Delectable Mountains, the gate of the city ? 3 Also, are we not now to A remembrance walk by faith? Let us go on, said ££££?£; Hopeful, lest the man with the whip helP against , . . r present tenipt- overtake us again. 2 Co. v. 7. ations. You should have taught me that lesson, which I will round5 you in the ears withal: 'Cease, my son, to hear the instruction tJiat causeth to err from the words of knowledge.' Pr. xix. 27. I say, my brother, cease to hear him, and let us ' believe to the saving of the soul. ' He. x. 39. Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart, a fruit of an As for this man, I know that he is honest heart- blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth, ' and no lie is of the truth.' 1 Jn. ii. 21. Hope. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So they turned away from the man ; and he, laughing at them, went his way. I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came into a certain country, whose air ^ are come naturally tended to make one drowsy, totheEnchanfr .* 1 . . . .. . j ed Ground. if he came a stranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull Hopeful begins and heavy of sleep ; wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes ; let us lie down here, and take one nap.6 Chr. By no means, said the other ; christian keeps lest, sleeping, we never awake more. him awake- Hope. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to the labouring man ; we may be refreshed if we take a nap.7 3 On the Delectable Mountains, the pilgrims had a sight of the Celestial City. No matter if it was but a glimpse j still they saw it, they really saw it, and the remembrance of that sight never left them. There it was in glory ! Their hands trem- bled, their eyes were dim with tears, but still that vision was not to be mistaken. There, through the rifted clouds, for a moment, the gates of pearl were shining, the jasper walls, the endless domes, the jewelled battlements! The splendour of the city seemed to pour, like a river of light, down upon the spot where they were standing. — (Cheever.) * See how we are surrounded with different enemies ! No. sooner have they escaped the self-righteous flatterer, but they meet with the openly profane and licentious mocker — aye, and he set out, and went far too ; yea, further than they. But, behold, he has turned his back upon all ; and though he hadi been twenty years a seeker, yet now he proves, that he haa neither faith nor hope, but ridicules all as delusion. Awful to think of ! O what a special mercy to be kept believing and persevering, and not regarding the ridicule of apostates ! — ■ (Mason.) 6 ' To round ;' to be open, sincere, candid. ' Maister Bland answered flatly and roundly.' — (Pox's Book of 31 arty rs.) 6 Upon the declaration for liberty of conscience, the church for a season was free from persecution. It was like enchanted ground; and some, who had been watchful in the storm, became careless and sleepy in this short deceitful calm. — (Ed.) 7 Ah, these short naps for pilgrims ! The sleep of death. THE IMLC RIM'S PROGRESS. 1- o Cur. T>o you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid ua beware of theEnehanted Ground 0 lie meant by that, that we should beware of sleep- ing; 'Therefore let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober.'2 1 Th. v. c. Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault ; and i . bad I been here alone, 1 had by sleep- He is thankful. . , . . , . , \ \ ing run the danger oi death. 1 see it is true that the wise man saith, 'Two are better than one.' Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy, and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labour. Be, h. 9. To prevent CllR. Now then, said Christian, to they f!"i to prevent drowsiness in this place, let gotf discourse. us fall foto good discourse. iranne HOPE. With all niv heart, said the }>r> veHts dru«- J *iness. other. Cnu. Where shall we begin ? Hope. Where God began with us. But do you begin, if you please. Chb. I will sing you first this song: — When saints Jo sleepy grow, let them come hither, „ K7" And hear how these two pilgrims talk together : The Pi earners ■..■,,,, , ri, Uule. Yea, let tliem learu of them, in any wise, Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb'ring eyes. Saints' fellowship, if it he manag'd well, Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. CllR. Then Christian began, and said, I will ask Tiiey begin at you a question. How came you to of e thc^coi^ think at first of so doing as you do W5WMM. nOW? Hope. Do you mean, bow came I at first to look after the good of my soul ? Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which, I believe now, would have, had I continued in them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction. Chr. What things were they ? Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drink- in the enchanted air of this world, usually begins with one of these short naps. — (Cheever.) 1 The Enchanted Ground may represent worldly pi ■ agreeable dispensations succeeding long-continued difficulties. This powerfully tends to produce a Lethargic frame of mind : i he man attends to religious duties more from habit, than from delight in the service of God. No situation requires so much watchfulness. Other experiences resemble storms, which keep a man awake ; this is a treacherous calm, which lulls him to sleep. — (Scott.) 2 O Christian, beware of sleeping on this enchanted ground ! When all things go easy, smooth, and well, we are prone to grow drowsy in soul. How many are the calls in the Word aLraiii^t spiritual slumber ! and yet how many professors, through the enchanting air of this world, are fallen into the deep sleep of formality! Ik warned by them to cry to thy Lord to keep thee awake to righteousness, and vigorous in the ways of thy Lord. — (Mason.) VOL. III. ing, swearing, lying, uneleanness, Sahhuth-hrcak- inff. and what not, that tended to ,, , ,, , . i i i i. t p i . Hopeful's 1 h destroy the soul. Lnit 1 found at last, befcw eon- by bearing and considering of tilings that are Divine, which indeed 1 heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for his faith and good living in Vanity Pair, that 'the end of these tilings is death.' Bo. vi. 21-28. And that for these things' sake, ' cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.' Ep. v. ft Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction ? Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that RopefoJ at Hist follows upon the commission of it ; but aeainat the3"" endeavoured, when my mind at first h^hl- began to be shaken with the Word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof. • Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you ? Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was the work of God upon me. I Rcasons of hig never thought that by awakenings for lasting of the sin, God at first begins the conver- sion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was loath to leave it. 3. 1 could not tell how to part with mine old companions, their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart-affright- ing hours, that I could not bear, no not so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart.3 Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble ? Hope. Yes, verily, but it would come into my mind again, and then I should be as bad, nay, worse than 1 was before. Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again ? Hope. Many things ; as, 1. "If I did but meet a good man the streets ; or, When lie had lust his sense of sin, what 2. If 1 have beard any read in the brought ,s Bible; or, again- s Here you see, as our Lord says, 'It is the Spirit who quickeneth, the flesh protiteth nothing.' Jn. vi. 03. Our car- nal nature is so far from profiting in the work of conversion to Christ, that it is at enmity against him, and opposes the Spirit's work in showing us our want of him, and bringing - to him. Man's nature and God's grace arc two direct oppo- rites. Nature opposes, but grace subdues nature, and brings it to submission and subjection. Arc we truly convinced of sin, and converted to Christ? This is a certain and sure evi- dence of it— we shall say from our hearts, Not onto na, nor unto anv yieldinga and compliances of our nature, free-will, and power, but unto thy name, O Lord, be all the gbrj it is by thy free, sovereign, effieaciona grace, we an- what we are. Hence, see the ignorance, lolly, and pride oi those who exalt free-will, and nature's power, &C, N enly Hey do not know themselves, even as they are known— (M 154 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 3. If mine head did begin to ache ; or, 4. If I were told that some of my neighbours were sick ; or, 5. If I heard the hell toll for some that were dead; or, 6. If I thought of dying myself; or, 7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others ; 8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to judgment. Chr. And could you at any time, with ease, get oil" the guilt of sin,1 when, by any of these ways, it came upon you ? Hope. No, not I, for then they got faster hold of my conscience ; and then, if I did but think of going back to sin (though my mind was turned against it), it would be double torment to me. Chr. And how djd you do then ? Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend my When he could life 5 for else» thought I, I am sure to nolongershake De damned. ott his guilt by sinful courses, Chr. And did vou endeavour to then he en- -, „ J deavuurs to nieilO. f mend. HopE> Yes ; and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too ; and betook me to religious duties, as prayer, reading, weeping for sin, speaking tmth to my neighbours, especially such sayings as these : last could not « All our righteousnesses are as filthv help, and why. , ° in, rags. is. Mv. c. ' By the works ot the law shall no flesh be justified.' Ga. a. 16. ■ When ye shall have done all those things, say, We are un- profitable,' Luxvii. io; with many more such like. From whence I began to reason with myself thus: If all my righteousnesses are filthy rags ; if, by the deeds of the law, no man can be justified; and if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable, then it is but a folly to think of heaven by the law. His being a I further thought thus : If a man runs law, "troubled a hundred pounds into the shopkeeper's hlm- debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch ; yet, if this old debt (stands still 1 Not the evil of sin in the sight of God, but the remorse and fear of wrath, with which the convinced sinner is oppressed, and from which he, at times, seeks relief by means which ex- ceedingly increase his actual guilt. Nothing but a fr further, how that man's righteousness theway'tobe Could be of that eilieaey to justify ■""*■ another before < J for that I thought he was not acceptation. wjHing to save me. Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said it was presumption; but he said, No, for I was invited to come. Mat. xL 28. Then he gave me a book of Jesus, his inditing, to encourage me the He is better more freely to come ; and he said, instructed. concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth. Mat, xxiv. 35. Then I asked him, What I must do when 1 came ; and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. Ps. xcv. 6. Dan. vi. 10. Je. xxi.v. 12, 13. Then 1 asked him further, how I must make my supplication to him ? And he said, Go, and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where he sits all the year long, to give pardon and for- giveness to them that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect, God be mer- He is bid to pray. .. , . • 11 citul to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for 1 see, that if his righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, 1 am utterly cast away.1 Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world ; and moreover, that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor Binner as I am (and I am a .sinner indeed). Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen. i:x. xw. ■>■>. lc. xvi. 2. Nu. \ii. 89. Be. iv. 16. Ciir. And did you do as you were bidden ? HOPE. Yes; over, and over, and He prays. Chr. And did the Father reveal his Son to you ? HOPE; Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, nor fifth; no, nor at the sixth time neither. Chr. What did you do then ? HOPE, What ! why I could not tell what to do. Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? IiorE. Yes, an hundred times twice He thought aw the Lord Jesus look down from heaven upon me, and saying-, ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' A&xvi. 8L But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. And he answered, 'My grace is sufficient for thee.'3 2 Co. xii. 9. Then 1 said, But, Lord, what is believing ? And then 1 saw from that 1 Pray mind this. The grand object of a sensible sinner is riLrlitf)LiMi>55. He has it not in himself; tins lie knows. \\ here is it to be found ? In Christ only. This is ai truth; and without faith in this, even sinner must be lost. Consider, it is at the peril of your soul that you reject the j righteousness of Christ ; and do not believe that God imput- eth it without works for the justilicatiou of the ungodly. O ye stout-hearted, self-righteous sinners, ye who are far from righteousness, know this and tremble I — (Mason.,) I 2 The true nature of faith is to believe and rest upon the Word of truth, and wait for the promised comfort. That faith which is the gift of God leads the soul to wait upon and cry to God, aud not to rest till it has some blessed testimony from God of interest in the love and favour of God in Christ Jesus. But O how many professors rest short of this ! — (Mason.) 3 As I thought my case most sad and fearful, these words did with greai power suddenly break Lu upon me, 'Mj grace is sufficient for thee,' three times together. 01 methought every word was a mighty word for me ; as my, and grace, and sufficient, and for thee; they were then, and - stilL far bhreer than others be.— {Grace Mounding, No. 206.) 15(5 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. saving, 'He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that helieveth on me shall never thirst;' that helieving and coming was all one; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed be- lieved in Christ. Jn. vi 35. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am, be indeed accepted of thee, and he saved by thee ? And I heard him say, ' And him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.' Jn. vL 37. Then I said, But how, | Lord, must I consider of thee in my coming to ' thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon j thee ? Then he said, 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' l Ti. i. 15. ' He is the end of j the law for righteousness to every one that believ- eth.' Ro. x. 4. ' He died for our sins, and rose again j for our justification.' Ro. iv. 25. ' He loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood. ' Re. i. 5. ' He is mediator betwixt God and us.' l Ti. ii. 5. ' He ever liveth to make intercession for us. ' He. vii. 25. From all which I gathered, that I must look for righteousness in his person, and for satisfaction for my sins by his blood ; that what he did in obedience to his Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not fur himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ.1 Ciir. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed ; but tell me particularly what effect this had upon your spirit.2 Hope. It made me see that all the world, not- withstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that God the Father, though he be just, can justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; for there never came thought into my heart before now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus; yea, I thought that had I now a thousand 1 The Lord's dealings with his children are various, but all lead to the same end; some are shaken with terror, while others are more gently draws, as with cords of love. In these things believers should not make their experiences standards one for another ; still there is a similarity in their being brought to the same ,point of rejecting both sinful and righteous self, and believing on the Lord Jesus Christ as their complete salvation. — (Andronicus.) 2 Christ did not appear to Hopeful's senses, but to his understanding ; and the words spoken are no other than tests of Scripture taken in their genuine meaning — not informing him, as by a new revelation, that his sins were pardoned, but encouraging him to apply for this mercy, and all other bless- ings of salvation. — (Scott.) gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus.3 I saw then in my dream that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they had left be- hind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth behind. Chr. Aye, aye, 1 see him ; he careth not for our company. Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto. Ciir. That is true ; but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise. Hope. That I think he doth ; but, however, let us tarry for him. So they did. Young ignor- Then Christian said to him, Come aga^S away, man, why do you stay so behind ? talk- Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a great deal than in company, unless I like it the better.4 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. rr. tope, and the ground of it. xiviii. 26. Chr. What good motions ? pray, tell us. Ignor. Why, I think of God and heaven. CnR. So do the devils and damned souls. Ignor. But I think of them, and desire them.5 Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. ' The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing.' Pr. sin. i. 3 Since the dear hour that brought me to Thy foot, Aud cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but Thine, Nor hoped, but in Thy righteousness Divine. My prayers and alms, imperfect aud defiled, Were but the feeble efforts of a child. Howe'er perform'd, it was their brightest part That they proceeded from a grateful heart. Cleans'd in Thine own all-purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good. I cast them at Thy feet — my only plea Is what it was, dependence upon thee! — (Cowper.) * Not governed by the Word of God, but by his own will, his grounds of confidence for salvation unfitted him for Chris- tian fellowship, unless he happened to fall in with a man who had imbibed his own notions. — (Ed.) 5 The desire of heaven — when its nature is not understood, the proper means of obtaining it are neglected, other objects are preferred to it — is no proof that a man will be saved. The expression, ' The desire of grace is grace,' is very fallacious. ■But to hunger and thirst for God, and his righteousness, his favour, image, and service, as the supreme good, so that no other object can satisfy the heart, is grace indeed, and shall te completed in glory. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 157 TgNOR. But I think of them, and leave all for them. Chr. That I douht ; for leaving all is a hard matter; yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by what, art thou per- suaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven ? Ignor. My heart tells me so. CllR. The wise man Bays, ' lie that trusts his own heart is a fool.'1 n. xxviii. 20. Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart, hut mine is a good one. Chr. But how dost thou prove that ? Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven. Cur. That may bo 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. CflR. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together ? Ignor. My heart tells me so. Chr. Ask my fellow if 1 be a thief ! Thy heart tells thee so ! Except the Word of God beareth witness in this matter, other testimony is of no value. Ignor. But is it not a good heart that hath good thoughts ? and is not that a good life that is according to God's commandments ? Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's commandments ; but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and another thing only to think so. Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a life according to God's commandments ? Chr. There are good thoughts of divers kinds ; some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other things. Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting our- selves ? what are gooa CnR. Such as agree with the Word thou.!,.;. of God Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the Word of God ? CnR. When we pass the same judgment upon ourselves which the Word passes. To explain myself — the Word of God saith of persons in a natural condition, ' There is none righteous, there is none that doeth good.' Ro. iiL It saith also, that ' every imagination of the heart of man is only 1 Real Christrans are often put to a stand, while they find and feel the -workings of all corruptions and sinsin their nature ; and when they liear others talk so highly of themselves, how lull their hearts arc of love to God, and of good motions, without any complainings of their hearts. Bat all thi-. is from the ignorance of their own hearts; and pride and self-righte- ousness harden them against feeling its desperate wick' (Masou.) evil, and that continually.' Ge.vt.6. And again, 1 The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth.' Ro. viii. 21. Now then, when we think thus of ourselves, having sense thereof then are our thoughts good ones, because according to the Word of God. Ignor. I will never believe that my heart is thus had. Chr. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought concerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on. As the Word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment upon our win s ; and when our thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judgment which the Word giveth of botlr, then are both good, because agreeing thereto. Ignor. Make out your meaning. Cur. Why, the Word of God saith that man's ways are crooked ways ; not good, but perverse, r-s. exxv. s. Pr. ii. 15. It saith they are naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it. Ro. iiL Now, when a man thus thinketh of his ways ; I say, when he doth sensihly, and with heart humiliation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the Word of God.3 Ignor. What are good thoughts concerning God ? Chr. Even as 1 have said concerning ourselves, when our thoughts of God do agree with what tho Word saith of him ; and that is, when we think of his being and attributes as the Word hath taught, of which I cannot now discourse at large ; but to speak of him with reference to us : Then we have right thoughts of God, when we think that he knows us better than we know ourselves, and can sec sin in us when and where we can see none in ourselves; when we think he knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always open unto his eyes ; also, when we think that all our righteousness stinks in his nostrils, and that, therefore, he cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confidence, even in all our best performances. Ignor. Do you think that I am such a fool as to think God can see no further than I ? or, that I would come to God in the best of my perform- ances ? Chr. Why, how dost thou think in this matter? Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for justification. Chr. How ! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities ; but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of what 2 1 saw that it was not my good frame of heart that made mj righteousness better, aoryel my bad frame that made my righteousness worse; for my righteousness was Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever. He. xiii. 8. — {Grace Aboundlinj, No. 229.) 153 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. thou dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righ- teousness to justify thee before God.1 How, then, dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? Ignor. I believe well enough for all that. Chr. How dost thou believe ? Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners ; The faith of and that I shall be justified before Ignorance. q0(i from t]ie curset through his gra- cious acceptance of my obedience to his law. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father, by virtue of his merits ; and so shall I be justified.2 Chr. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith. 1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is nowhere described in the Word. 2. Thou believest with a false faith ; because it taketh justification from the personal righteous- ness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.3 3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions ; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, which is false.4 4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under wrath, in the day of God Almighty ; for true justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon flying for refuge unto Christ's righteousness, which righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which he maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted with God ; but his personal obedience to the law, in doing and suffering for us what that required at our hands ; this righteousness, I sa}", true faith accepteth ; under the skirt of which, the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before 1 Here we see how naturally the notion of man's righteous- ness blinds his eyes to, and keeps his heart from believing, that Christ's personal righteousness alone justifies a sinner in the sight of God ; and yet such talk bravely of believing, but their faith is only fancy. They do not believe unto righteousness ; but imagine they have now, or shall get, a righteousness of their own, some how or other. Awful delusion ! — (Mason.) 2 Here is the very essence of that delusion which works by a lie, and so much prevails, and keeps up an unscriptural hope in the hearts of so many professors. Do, reader, study this point well ; for here seems to be a show of scriptural truth, v uile the rankest poison lies concealed in it. For it is utterly subversive of, and contrary to, the faith and hope of the gospel. — (Mason.) 8 The way of being justified by faith for which Ignorance pleads may well be called ' fantastical ,' as well as ' Jalse;' for it is nowhere laid down iu Scripture ; and it not only changes the way of acceptance, but it takes away the rule and standard of righteousness, and substitutes a vague notion, called sincerity, in its place, which never was, nor can be, defined with precision. —(Scott.) 4 Justification before God comes, not by imitating Christ as exemplary in morals, but tlirough faith in His precious blood. To feed on Jesus is by respecting him as made of God a curse for our sin. I have been pleased with observing, that none of the signs and wonders in Egypt could deliver the children of Israel thence, until the lamb was slain. — (Bunyan on Juslifi.callan.. vol. ii. p. 330.) God, it is accepted, and acquit from condemna- tion.5 Ignor. What ! would you have us trust to what Christ, in his own person, has done without us ? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list ; for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we believe it ? Chr. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou ; even this thy answer demonstrat- ed what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justi- fying righteousness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith in this righteous- ness of Christ, which is, to bow and win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his name, his Word, ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly imaginest. Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven.6 Ignor. What ! you are a man for revelations ! I believe that what both you, and all ignorance jan- the rest of you, say about that mat- gi«»vith them, ter, is but the fruit of distracted brains. Hope. Why, man ! Christ is so hid in God from the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he can- not by any man be savingly known, unless God the Father reveals him to them.7 6 Under these four heads, we have a most excellent detec- tion of a presumptive and most dangerous error which now greatly prevails, as well as a scriptural view of the nature of true faith, and the object it fixes on wholly and solely for justification before God, and acceptance with God. Reader, for thy soul's sake, look to thy foundation. See that thou build upon nothing in self, but all upon that sure foundation which God hath laid, even his beloved Son, and his perfect righteousness. — (M ason.) 6 This, by all natural men, is deemed the very height of enthusiasm ; but a spiritual man knows its blessedness, and rejoices in its comfort. It is a close question. "What may we understand by it ? Doubtless, what Paul means when he says, ' It pleased God to reveal his Son in me,' Ga. i. 15, 16: that is, he had such an internal, spiritual, experimental sight, and knowledge of Christ, and of salvation by him, that his heart embrace who was a forward man in re- ligion then ?3 Hope. Know him! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, Where he a town about two miles off of Honesty, dwelt- and he dwelt next door to one Turnback. Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with lie was towardiy him. Well, that man was much once. awakened once ; I believe that then he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages that were due thereto. Hope. I am of your mind, for, my house not being above three miles from him, he would oft- times come to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not altogether without hope of him ; but one may see, it is not every one that cries, Lord, Lord. Chr. He told me once that he was resolved to go on pilgrimage, as we do now ; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me. Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, 1 ' Pitiful old self-holiness.' Mind this phrase. Par was it from the heart of good Mr. Bunyau to decry personal holiness. It is nothing hut self-holiness, or the holiness of the old man of sin ; for true holiness springs from the belief of the truth, aud love to the truth. All besides this only tends to self- eoulidence, and self-applause. — (Mason.) 2 It is good to call to mind one's own ignorance, when in our natural estate, to excite humility of heart, and thankfulness to God, who made us to differ, and to excite pity towards those who are walking in nature's pride, self-righteousness, and self- confidence. — (Mason.) ♦ 0 ' Temporary ;' one who is doctrinally acquainted with the gospel, but a stranger to its sanctiiyiug power. The reasons aud manner of such men's declensions and apostasy are very justly and emphatically stated. — (Scott.) let us a little inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and such others. Chr. It may be very profitable, but do you begin. Hope. Well then, there are in my judgment four reasons for it : — 1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds are not Ueasonswhvto. changed; therefore, when the power waruiy ones go of guilt weareth away, (hat which pro- voked them to be religious ceaseth, wherefore they naturally turn to their own course again, even as we see the dog that is sick of what he has eaten, so long as hi.= sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all ; not that he doth this of a free mind (if we may say a dog has a mind), but because it troubleth his stomach ; but now, when his sickness is over, and so his stomach eased, his desire being not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all, and so it is true which is written, ' The dog is turned to his own vomit again. ' 2 Pe. ii. 22.4 Thus I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of hell, and the fears of damnation, chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and happiness die, aud they return to their course again.5 2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do overmaster them; I speak now of the fears that they have of men, for ' the fear of man bringeth a snare.' Pr. xxix. 25. So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven, so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet, when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts ; namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or, at least, of bringing themselves into unavoidable and unnecessary troubles, and so they fall in with the world again. 3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in their way ; they are proud and haughty, and religion in their eye is low and contemptible ; therefore, when they have lost their sense of hell and wrath to come, they return again to their former course. 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to 4 In Hoffman's poetical version of the ' Pilgrim,' this sen- tence is, ' And nature will ret urn, like Pope, to pork ;' alluding to one of the Popes, who used daily to have a dish of pork ; but, being sick, his physicians forbade it, when the Pope, in a rage, cried out, ' Give me my pork, in spite of God.' — (Ed.) 6 A true description of the state of some professors. Here see the reason why so many saints, as they are called, fall away. From hence some take occasion to deny the scriptural, soul- comforting doctrine, of the certain perseverance of God's saints unto eternal glory. So they display the pride of their own hearts, their ignorance of God's Word, while they make God's promises of no effect, and the gospel of his grace, only much ado about nothing. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 161 them. They like not to see their misery before they come into it; though perhaps the sight of it first, it' they loved that sight, might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe. But be- cause they do, as I hinted before, even slum the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways as will harden them more and more. CllR. You are pretty mar the business, for the bottom of all is, tor want of a change in their mind and will. And therefore they are but like the felon that standeth before the judge, he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily, but the bottom of all is the fear of the halter ; not that he hath any detestation of the offence, as is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still, whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be otherwise. HorE. Now, I have showed you the reasons of their going back, do you show me the manner thereof.1 Chr. So I will, willingly. 1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they How the apostate may« fr°m the remembrance of God, goes back. death, and judgment to come. 2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, aud the like. 3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians. 4. After that, they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, reading, godly conference, and the like. 5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of the godly ; and that devilishly, 1 Three young fellows. Mr. Tradition, Mr. Humau-wisdoin, and Mr. Man's-invention, proffered their services to Shaddai. The captains told them not to be rash ; but, at their entreaty, they were listed into Boanerges' company, aDd away they went to the war. Being in the rear, they were taken pri- soners. Then Diabolus asked them if they were willing to Berve against Shaddai. They told him, that as they did not so much live by religion as by the fates of fortune, they would serve him. So he made two of them sergeauts ; but he made Mr. Man's-invention his ancient-bearer [standard-bearer]. — (Banyan's Holy War.) 2 See how gradually, step by step, apostates go back. It begins in the unbelief of the heart, and ends in open sins in the life. "Why is the love of this world so forbidden? Why is covetousness called idolatry ? Because, whatever draws away the heart from God, and prevents enjoying close fellowship w ith him, naturally tends to apostasy from him. Look well to your hearts and affections. ' Keep thy heart with all diligence, tor out of it are the issues of life.' Pr. iv. 23. If you neglect to watch, you will be sure to smart under the sense of sin on earth, or its curse in hell. ' See then that ye walk circum- spectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days arc evil.' Ep. v. 15, 16. — (Mason.) 3 0 what a blessed state ! what a glorious frame of soul is this ! Job speaks of it as the candle of the Lord shining upon his head; chap. xxix. 3. The church, in a rapture, cries out, ' Sing, O heavens ; and be joyful, 0 earth ; break forth into VOL. III. that they may have a seeming colour to throw re- ligion (for the sake of some infirmity they have espied in them) behind their backs. G. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal, loose, and wanton men. 7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret ; and glad are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do it through their example. 8. After this, they begin to play with little sins openly. 9. And then, being hardened, they show them- selves as they are. Thus, being launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish in their own deceivings.- Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the Pilgrims were got over the Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season, is. bdi. 4. Yea, here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flower3 appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. Ca. a. 10-12. In this country the sun shineth night and day ; wherefore this was be- yond the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair, neither could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle.3 Here they were within sight of the city they were going to, also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also singing, 0 mountains : for the Lord hath comforted his people.' Is. xlix. 13. Paul calls this, 'The fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ.' Ro. xv. 29. 0 rest not short of enjoying the full blaze of gospel peace and spiritual joy. — (Mason.) During the last days of that eminent man of God, Dr. Payson, he once said, ' When I formerly read Bunyan's description of the Land of Beulah, where the sun shines and the birds sing day and night, I used to doubt whether there was snch a place ; but now my own experience has convinced me of it, and it infinitely transcends all my previous conceptions.' The best possible commentary on the glowing descriptions in Buuyau is to be found in that very remarkable letter dictated by Dr. Pay- son to his sihtcr, a few weeks before his death : — ' "Were I to adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I might date this letter from the Land Beulah, of which I have been for some weeks a happy inhabitant. The Celestial City is full in my view. Its glories have been upon me, its breezes fan me, its odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me from it but the River of Death, which now appears but as bd insignificant rill, that may be crossed at a single step, whenever God shall give permission. The Sun of Righteousness has been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appearing larger and brighter as lie approached, and now he fills the whole tu mi sphere, pouring forth a flood of glory, in which I seem to float, like an insect in the beams of the snn ; exulting, yet almo?t trembling, while I gaze on this excessive brightness, and wondering, with unutterable wonder, why God should deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm.'— (Checver.) 1G2 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was renewed; yea, here, 'As the bridegroom re- joiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them.' is. lxii. 5. Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in this place they met with abund- ance of what they had sought for in all their pil- grimage, ver. 8. Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, * Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh! Behold, his reward is with him ! ' ver. n. Here all the inhabitants of the country called them, ' The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out, ' &C ver. 12. Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the king- dom to which they were bound ; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and precious stones, also the street thereof was paved with gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the reflection of the sunbeams upon it, Chris- tian with desire fell sick, Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease.1 Wherefore, here they lay by it a while, crying out, because of their pangs, ' If ye find my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of love.'2 Ca. v. 8. But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the highway. Now, as they came up to these places, behold, the gardener stood in the way, to whom the Pilgrims said, Whose goodly vineyards and gardens are these ? He answered, They are the King's, and are planted here for his 1 In the immediate view of heavenly felicity, Paul ' desired to depart hence, and be with Christ, as far better' than life. David ' fainted for God's salvation.' In the lively exercise of holy affections, the believer grows weary of this sinful world, longs to have his faith changed for sight, bis hope swallowed up in enjoyment, and his love perfected. — (Scott.) 2 No other language than that of Bunyan himself, perused in the pages of his own sweet book, could be successful in portraying this beauty and glory; for now he seems to feel that all the dangers of the pilgrimage are almost over, and he gives up himself without restraint so entirely to the sea of bliss that surrounds him, and to the gales of heaven that are wafting him on, and to the sounds of melody that float in the whole air around him, that nothing in the English language can be compared with this whole closing part of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' for its entrancing splendour, yet serene and simple loveliness. The colouring is that of heaven in the soul ; and Bunyan has poured his own heaven-entranced soul into it. "With all its depth and power, there is nothing exaggerated, and it is made up of the simplest and most scriptural materials and images. "We seem to stand in a flood of light, poured on os from the open gates of paradise. It falls on every leaf and shrub by the way-side ; it is reflected from the crystal streams that, between grassy banks, wind amidst groves of fruit-trees into vineyards and flower-gardens. These fields of Beidah are just below the gate of heaven ; and with the light of heaven there come floating down the melodies of heaven, so that here there is almost an open revelation of the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. — (Cheever.) own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties. De. xxiii. 24. He also showed them there the King's walks, and the arbours, where he delighted to be ; and here they tarried and slept.3 Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this time than ever they did in all their journey ; and being in a muse there- about, the gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at the matter ? It is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go down so sweetly, as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.4 So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to tbe city. But, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for ' the city was pure gold, ' Re. xxi. is) was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open face behold it, but through an instrument made for that purpose. 2 Co. m. 18. So I saw, that as they went on, there met them two men, in raiment that shone like gold; also their faces shone as the light.5 These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came ; and they told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and pleasures they had 3 This is the place, this is the state, Of all that fear the Lord ; Which men nor angels may relate With tongue, or pen, or word. No night is here for to eclipse Its spangling rays so bright ; Nor doubt, nor fear, to shut the lips Of those within this light. The strings of music here are tuned For heavenly harmony, And every spirit here perfumed With perfect sanctity. Here run the crystal streams of life, Quite thorow all our veins ; And here by love we do unite With glory's golden chains. — (Bunyan's One Thing Needful) 4 Mr. Flavel, being on a journey, set himself to improve I the time by meditation ; when his mind grew intent, till at I length he had such ravishing tastes of heavenly joys, and such full assurance of his interest therein, that he utterly lost the sight and sense of this world and all its concerns, so that for hours he knew not where he was. At last, perceiving himself faint, he alighted from his horse and sat down at a spring, where he refreshed himself, earnestly desiring, if it were the will of God, that he might there leave the world. His spirit reviving, he finished his journey in the same delightful frame; and all that night passed without a wink of sleep, the joy of the Lord still overflowing him, so that he seemed an inhabit- ant of the other world. — (Pneumatologia, 4to, 2d edit. p. 210.) 6 Who are these ministering spirits, that the author calls 'men?' Are they the glorified inhabitants of the Celestial City ? Moses and Elias appeared at the transfiguration ; so the spirit who spake with John, Re. xx. 10, was his fellow- servant. Are these ' spirits of just men made perfect ' — the angel-ministering spirits which are sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation ? He. i. 14; xii. 22, 23. -(En.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 163 Deuth. met in the way ; and they told them. Then said the men that met them, You have hut two difficul- ties more to meet with, and then you are in the city.1 Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them ; so they told them they would. 15ut, said they, you must ohtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together, until they came in sight of the gate. Now, I further saw, that hetwixt them and the gate was a river, hut there was no bridge to go over ; the river was very deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims were much stunned : hut the men that went with them said, You must go through, or you cannot come at the gate.2 The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was Death is not n0 other way to the gate ; to which welcome to they answered, Yes; but there hath nature, though J . i>y it we pass not any, save two, to wit, Lnoch and world into Elijah, been permitted to tread that g y> path, since the foundation of the world, nor shall, until the last trumpet shall sound, l Co. xv. 51, 52. The Pilgrims then, especially Christian, began to despond in their minds, and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, by which they might escape the river.3 Then they asked the men if the waters were all of a depth. ADgeis help us They said, No ; yet they could not aWy Xou^h nelp them in that case ; for, said they, death. vou suaii gn(j jt deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place. They then addressed themselves to the water; and entering, Christian began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep waters ; the billows go over my head, all his waves go over me ! Selah.4 1 "What are these two difficulties? Are they not death without, and unhelief within? It is through the latter that the former is all-distressing to us. O for a strong, world- conquering, sin-subduing, death-overcoming faith, in life and death ! Jesus, Master, speak the word, unhelief shall flee, our (kith shall not fail, and our hope shall be steady. — (Mason.) 2 Well, now the pilgrims must meet with, and encounter, their last enemy, death. When he stares them in the face, their fuars arise. Through the river they must go. What have they to look at? \Vhat they are in themselves, or what they have done and been? No. Only the same Jesus who conquered death for us, and can overcome the fear of death in us. — (Mason.) 3 But tim'rous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea ; 'i hej linger, shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away. — (Walls.) Evodias could not join in the petition of the Liturgy — 'From death, good Lord, deliver us.' lie had his wish; and expired suddenly on a Lord's-day morning, while thousands were assembling to hear him preach. — (Andronicus.) 4 Banyan died in perfect peace, tin mgh it is probable that he expected darkness in the trying hoar. Thus he says, in his treatise on Paul's Departure, 'Aye, this will make thee cry, though thou be as good as David. \\ herefore learn by his Then said tho other, P>o of good cheer, my hrothcr, I feel the bottom, and it is good. Then, said Christian, Ah ! my diet at the friend, 'the sorrows of death have hour of deaUl- compassed me about ;' I shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey ; and with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that ho could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember, nor orderly talk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in tho way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that ho spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he hegan to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was trouhled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits ; for ever and anon he would intimate so much hy words.5 Hopeful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above water ; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere awhile, he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us ; but Christian would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for; you have been Hopeful ever since I knew you.6 And so have you, said he to Christian. Ah, brother! said he, surely if I was right he would now arise to help me ; but for my sins he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have quite forgot the text, where it is said of the wicked, ' Tliere are no bands in their death ; but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as otlier men, neither are they plagued like oilier men.' Ps. lxxiii. 4, 5. These troubles and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you ; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which sorrows to serve thy generation, by the will of God, before falling asleep. God can pardon thy sins, and yet make theru a bitter thing and a burden at death. It is easy to HIM to pardon, and yet break all thy bones; or show lrimself in such dreadful majesty, that heaven and earth shall tremble at his presence. Let the thoughts of this prevail with thee to manage thy time and work in wisdom, while thou art well.' (Vol. i. p. 730.)— (Ed.) 5 Satan is suffered to be very busy with God's people iu their last moments, but he too, like death, is a conquered enemy by our Jesus; therefore, amidst all his attacks, they arc safe. He cannot destroy them whom Jesus hath redeemed, for he is faithful to them, and almighty to save. — (Mason.) 6 Hopeful, agreeably to his name, was not only preserved from terror, but enabled to encourage his trembling companion ; telling him the welcome news that 'he felt the bottom, and it was good.' Blessed experience ! If Christ is our founda- tion, we have nothing to fear, even in the swellings of Jordan, for death itself cannot separate us from the love of Christ.— - (Burder.) 164 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses.1 Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was as Christian deliv- in a mUS« a ^ile. To whom also ered from his Hopeful added this word, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole ;2 and with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, 0 ! I see him again, and he tells me, ' When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not over- flow thee.' is. xiiii. 2. Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over.3 Now, upon the bank of the „,, , , river, on the other side, they saw the i he angels do ' • i i wait for them, two shining men again, who there are "passed out waited for them ; wherefore, being of this world. come Qut of the riyerj they saluteus, the strong man, armed with almighty power and ag love, will conquer and casl him out. That is the uercy, or none could ever be saved.— (Mason.) 174 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. about his head. She saw also as if he bowed his head, with his face to the paved work that was under the Prince's feet, saying, I heartily thank my Lord and King, for bringing of me into this place. Then shouted a company of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps ; but no man living could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions.1 Next morning, when she was up, had prayed to God, and talked with her children a while, one knocked hard at the door, to whom she spake out, saying, If thou comest in God's name, come in. So he said, Amen, and opened the door, and saluted her with 'Peace be to this house.' The which, when he had done, he said, Christiana, knowest Convictions tnou wherefore I am come ? Then she seconded with blushed and trembled, also her heart fresh tidings of , ..... God's readi- began to wax warm with desires to ness opar on. know wnence ne came, and what was his errand to her. So he said unto her, My name is Secret ;2 1 dwell with those that are high. It is talked of, where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither ; also, there is a report, that thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to tell thee, that he is a God ready to forgive, and that he taketh delight to multiply to pardon offences. He also woidd have thee know, that he inviteth thee to come into his presence, to his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. There is Christian thy husband (that was), with legions more, his companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister life to beholders ; and they will all be glad when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's threshold. Christiana at this was greatly abashed in her- self, and bowing her head to the ground, this Visitor proceeded, and said, Christiana, here is I also a letter for thee, which I have brought from thy husband's King. So she took it and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best per- fume, Ca. i. 3 ; also it was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter was, That the King would have her do as did Christian her husband ; for that was the way to come to his city, and to dwell in his presence with joy for ever. Christiana quite At this the good woman was quite overcome, overcome ; so she cried out to her visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we also may go and Avorship this King ? Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before the sweet. Thou must through _„_.... o Further instruc- troubles, as did he that went before Won to Chris- thee, enter this Celestial City. Where- fore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy hus- band. Go to the wicket-gate yonder, over the plain, for that stands in the head of the way up which thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise that thou put this letter in thy bosom ; that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy child- ren, until you have got it by rote of heart,3 for it is one of the songs that thou must sing while thou art in this house of thy pilgrimage, rs. cxix. u ■, also this thou must deliver in at the further gate.4 Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentle- man, as he told me this story, did himself seem to be greatly affected therewith. He, moreover, proceeded and said, So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus to address herself unto them: My sons, I have, as you may Christianapi.ays perceive, been of late under much well tor her exercise in my soul, about the death J of your father ; not for that I doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now that he is well. I have been also much affected with the thoughts of mine own state and yours, which I verily be- lieve is by nature miserable. My carriages, also, to your father in his distress, is a great load to my conscience ; for I hardened both my own heart 1 The mind, during sleep, is often occupied with those sub- jects that have most deeply engaged the waking thoughts; and it sometimes pleases God to make use of ideas thus suggested, to influence the conduct by exciting fears or hopes. But if we attempt to draw conclusions on doctrines, or to discover hidden things by them, it becomes a dangerous species of enthusiasm. — (Scott.) There is no just reason to doubt that God still employs dreams for the conversion of sinners. 'In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction.' Job xxxiii. 15, 16. — (Ivimey.) Dreams are sometimes of use to warn and encourage a Chris- tian, and seem to be really ' from God ;' but great caution is necessary, lest they mislead us, as they do weak and enthusi- astic persons. They must never be depended on as the ground of hope, or th test of our state ; nothing must be put in the place of the Word of God. — (Burder.) 2 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,' Ps. cxi. 10 ; and ' the secret of the Lord is with them that fear hiiu.' Ps. xxv. 14. The Spirit, the Comforter, never con- I vinces the soul of sin, but he also revives and comforts the heart with glad tidings of free and full pardon of sin, through the blood of the Lamb. — (Mason.) Probably the name of this visitor was derived from what was said by the heavenly visitor to Manoah. Ju. xiii. 18. — (Ivimey.) The silent influences of the Holy Spirit are here personified. The intimations of Secret represent the teachings of the Holy Spirit, by which the sinner understands the real meaning of the Sacred Scrip- tures as to the way of salvation. — (Scott, abridged.) 3 ' Rote of heart ;' * rote ' is to commit to memory, so as to be able to repeat fiueutly, as a wheel runs round, but without attaching any idea or sense to the words ; 'rote of heart ' is to do this with a full understanding of the meaning. — (Ed.) 4 As the Spirit testifies of Christ, so he leads the soul to Christ, that he may be the sinner's only hope, righteousness, and strength. Thus he glorifies Christ. — (Mason.) But bring thou with thee a certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate ; Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd. — {House of God, vol. ii. p. 580.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 175 and your? against him, and refused to go with him on pilgrimage.1 The thoughts of those things would now kill inc. outright, but that lor a dream which 1 had last night, and but for the encouragement that this stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up and begone to the gate that leads to the Celestial Country, that we may see your father, and be with him and his com- panions in peace, according to the laws of that land. Then did her children burst out into tears for joy, that the heart of their mother was so inclined.3 So their visitor bade them farewell ; and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the women, that were Christiana's neighbours, came up to her house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said as before, If you come in God's Christiana's name, come in. At this the women rtZs^JHd ™>re stunned ; for this kind of lan- ueighbours. guage they used not to hear, or to perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana.3 Yet they came in ; hut, behold, they found the good woman a-preparing to be gone from her house. So they began and said, Neighbour, pray what is your meaning by this ? Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, I am pre- FirstPart, paring for a journey. (This Timorous p. 105. was daUghter to him that met Chris- tian upon the Hill Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.) Tim. For what journey, I pray you ? Christ. Even to go after my good husband. And with that she fell a-weeping. to visit Chris- lima. \uili Mi rcj . '.n.- of 1 Blessed penitence ! Christian's children, when he set out in his pilgrimage, had been liable to Mr. Banyan's severe remarks in his valuable book on Christian Behaviour -. — ' I observe a vile spirit amongst some children, who overlook, or have slighting or scornful thoughts of their parents. Such an one hath got just the heart of a dog or a beast, that will bite those that begot them. But my father is poor, and I am rich, and it will be a hiuderance to mc to respect him. 1 tell thee, thou arguest like an atheist and a beast, and standest full flat against the Son of God. Mar. vii. 9 — 13. Must a little of the glory of the butterfly make thee not honour thy father and mother? Little dost thou know how many prayers, sighs, and tears have been wrung from their hearts on thine account.' — (Vol. ii. pp. 502, 503.)— (Ed.) 2 The awakening of a sinner may be effected by very dif- ferent means. Lydia's heart was opened through attern PanTs ministry ; the jailer's, through the alarm produced in his mind by the fear of disgrace and punishment. Christian was brought to a sense of his lost condition by reading the Scriptures; Christiana, by reflecting, after the death of her husband, upon her unkind treatment of him on account of his religion, the thought of which 'rent the caul of her heart iu sunder;' and the four boys, by the conversation of their mother with them about their departed father, aud about her having neglected their souls. Religion is a personal concern, aud begins with repentance and sorrow for sin. Children are not saved by the faith of their parents, but must be individually Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour; pray, for your poor children's sakes, do not so „. , Iimormi unwomanly cast away yourself. Christ. Nay, my children shall go ' with me, not one of them is willing to stay behind.1 Tim. I wonder, in my very heart, what, or who has brought you into this mind. Christ. Oh! neighbour, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that you would go with me. Tim. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that teinpteth thee to go, nobody knows where \ CmtiST. Then Christiana replied, 1 have been sorelj afflicted since my husband's departure from me ; but especially since he went over the river. But that which troublcth me most, is my churlish carriages to him, when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a- dreaming last night that 1 saw him. 0 that my soul was with him ! lie dwelleth in the pre- sence of the King of the country ; he sits and eats with him at his table ; he is become a companion of immortals, l Co. v. 1-4, and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me to be but as a dunghill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me, with promise of entertainment if I shall come to him ; his messenger was here even now, and has brought me a letter, which invites me to come. And with that she plucked out her letter,5 and read it, and said to them, What now will ye say to this ? Tim. 0 the madness that has possessed thee and thy husband, to run yourselves upon such difficulties ! You have heard, I am sure, what }*our husband did meet with, even, in a manner, at the first step that he took on his way, First Partj as our neighbour Obstinate can yet P-9"- brought to feel their own sinfulness, and to confess their own guilt and danger; nor will a mother's prayers save her children, unless they heartily unite with her in them. — (lvimey.) 3 Reader, stop and examine. Did ever any of your carnal acquaintance take knowledge of a difference of your language and conduct ? [Does it stun them ?~] Or do they still like and approve of you as well as ever ? What reason, then, have you to think yourself a pilgrim ? If the heart be ever so little acquainted with the Lord, the tongue will discover it, and the carnal and profane will ridicule and despise you for it. — (Mason.) 4 ' Is tcillhxj to stay behind.' Mr. Bunyan has strongly intimated, in this account, that children, very young persons, may be the subjects of renewing grace, aud may experience the power of the gospel upon their hearts, producing thai faith that is of the operation of God, and works meet for repentance. This fact is abundantly continued by mauy living instances of very young persons knowing the grace of God iu truth, and adorning the doctrine of God our Saviour. — (Ivimey.J 6 This was a love-letter, full of the love of Jesus, and the precious invitatious of his loving heart to sinners to came unto him as recorded in his blessed Word. Happy sinners, whose eyes are opened to read it ! But this the world calls madness. — (Muson.) 176 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. testify, for he went along with him; yea, and Pli- able too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the The reasonings danger that he met with at Vanity of the flesh. Fair t0 be forgotten by thee; for if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Con- sider also, that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself ; yet, for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep thou at home.1 But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my neighbour. I have now a price put into my hand to get gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest size, if I should have no heart to strike in with the opportunity.2 And for that you tell me of all these troubles that I am like to meet with in the way, they are so far off from being to me a dis- couragement, that they show I am in the right. A pertinent re- ' ^ie fitter must come before the ply to fleshly sweet,' and that also will make the reasonings. , ,-.T, « sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet me further.3 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fellow, Come, neighbour Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, since she scorns our counsel and company. But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neighbour, and Mercy's bowels that ^or a twof°hl reason. First, her yearn over bowels yearned over Christiana. So she said within herself, If my neigh- bour will needs be gone, I will go a little way with her and help her. Secondly, her bowels yearned over her own soul, for what Christiana had said 1 The observations of the unconverted, when they perceive the conscience of a poor sinner alarmed for tear of the wrath to come, are admirably put in Bunyan's Come and Welcome, vol. i. p. 278 : 'They attribute the change to melancholy— to sitting alone — to overmuch reading — to going to too many sermons — to too much studying and musing on what they hear. They conclude that it is for want of merry company — for want of physic ; and they advise them to leave off reading, going to sermons, the company of sober people, and to be merry, to go a-gossiping. But, poor ignorant siuner, let me deal with tbee. It seems that thou hast tamed counsellor for Satan. Thou judgest foolishly. Thou art like Elymas the sorcerer, that sought to turn the deputy from the' faith, to pervert the right ways of the Lord. Take heed, lest some heavy judgment overtake thee.' Pilgrim, beware of the solemn warnings of God in Be. xiii. 6, and He. x. 38. — (Ed.) -' Buuyan probably alludes to l'r. .wii. 10 •. 'Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to it?' — (Iviiney.) 3 It is well to be bold in the name of the Lord, and blunt w ith those who seek to turn us away from following on to know the Lord ; for nothing less than life and salvation, or death and damnation, will be the issue of it. — (Mason.) had taken some hold upon her mind.4 Wherefore she said within herself again, I will yet have more talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself with my heart shall also go with her. Wherefore Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbour Timorous. Mercy. Neighbour, I did, indeed, come with you to see Christiana this morning ; Timorous for- and since she is, as you see, a-taking MereyhUeave1 of her last farewell of her country, I to her- think to walk, this sun-shine morning, a little way with her, to help her on the way. But she told her not of the second reason, but kept that to herself. Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fool- ing too, but take heed in time, and be wise. While we are out of danger, we • are out ; but Avhen we are in, we are in. So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to her journey.5 But when Timorous was got home to her house, she sends for acquaints her some of her neighbours, to wit, Mrs. the good Chri^- Bat's-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. t»alja intends Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. So when they were come to her house, she falls to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended journey. And thus she began her tale.6 Tim. Neighbours, having had little to do this morning, I went to give Christiana a visit; and when I came at the door, I knocked, as vou know it is our custom. And she answered, If you come in God's name, come in. So in I went, thinking all was well. But when I came in, I found her pre- paring herself to depart the town, she, and also her children. So I asked her what was her mean- ing by that. And she told me, in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she had, and how the King of the country where her husband was, had sent her an inviting letter to come thither. Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And Mrs. Know- what ! do you think she will go ? nothing. 4 The very tliiugs which excite the rage and scorn of some persons, penetrate the hearts of others. Thus the Lord makes one to differ from another, by preparing the heart to receive the good seed of Bivine truth. Yet every one willingly chooses the way he takes, without constraint or hiuderauce, except his own prevailing dispositions. — (Scott.) 6 Here we see our Lord's word verified, ' The one shall be taken, and the other left.' Mat. xxiv. 41. Mercy is called, and Timorous left. All, to appearance, seems chance and accident ; but sovereign grace overrules all things. ' All things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ.' 2 Co. v. 18.— (Mason.) 6 This tale, by the names, arguments, and discourse intro- duced into it, shows what kind of persons despise and revile all those that fear God, and seek the salvation of their souls. Profligates, who never studied religion, pass sentence upon the most diflicult controversies without hesitation. Such persons call for our compassion and prayers even more thau our detestation. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 177 Tim. Aye, go she will, whatever come on't ; and methinks I know it by this; fur that which was my great argument to persuade her to stay at home (to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one great argument with her to put her forward on her journey. For she told me in so many words, ' The bitter goes before the sweet.' Yea, and forasmuch as it so doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter. Mrs. Bat's -eyes. 0, this blind and foolish woman ! said she ; will she not take rs. ats-eyes. wftmJng |,y ])0r ]ulsbftnd's afflictions ? For my part, I see, if he was here again, he would rest him content in a whole skin, and never run so many hazards for nothing. Mrs. Inconsiderate also replied, saying, Away Mrs. incon- "lib such fantastical fools from the siderate. town j ^ g00(j riddance, for my part, I say, of her. Should she stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could live quietly by her ? for she will either be dumpish or unneigh- bourly, or talk of such matters as no wise body can abide ; wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for her departure. Let her go, and let better come in her room. It was never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it.1 Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth: — Mrs. Light- Come, put this kind of talk away. I mmd" was yesterday at Madam Wanton's, Madam Wanton. . ,-, . •, she that had where we were as merry as the mauls. been too hard F°r Wh° d° y°U think Sh0uld be there' for Faithful in but I and Mrs. Love-the-flesh, and time past. , _ _ _ . First Part three or four more, with Mr. Lechery, p. us. ' Mrs. Filth, and some others. So there we had music, and dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an admirably well-bred gentle- woman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. By this time, Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with her. So as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to dis- 1 O how do such carnal wretches sport with their own damnation, while they despise the precious truths of God, and ridicule his beloved, chosen, and called people ! But as it was in the beginning, he who was born after the flesh persecuted him who was born after the Spirit, so it is now, and will be as long as the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent are upon the earth. — (Mason.) Such characters are portrayed by the apostle, in his solemn riddle, 1 Ti. v. 6. — (Ivimey.) 2 The singular dispensations of Providence, and the strong impressions made by the Word of God upon some minds, seem to amount to a special invitation ; while others are gradually and gently brought to embrace the gospel, and these are some- times discouraged lest they have never been truly awakened. They should recollect that the Lord dclighteth in mercy; that Christ will in no wise cast out any that come to him ; and that they who trust in the mercy of God, solely through the redemption of his Son, shall assuredly be saved. — (Scott.) 8 Such is the true spirit of real pilgrims, that do not love to eat their precious morsel alone. They wish others to know Christ, and to become followers of him with themselves. — (Mason.) VOL. III. course. And, Mercy, said Christiana, I take this as an unexpected favour, that thou Diicomw be- shouldst set foot out of doors with me, ^(\xt M^J to accompany me a little in my way. canfattaM MERCY. Then said young Mercy (for she was but young), If I thought it would be Merry inciinc, to purpose to go with you, I would to8°- never go near the town any more. Christ. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot with me ; I well know what Christiana will be the end of our pilgrimage. My neighbourwith husband is where he would not but bo her- for all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation.- The King who hath sent for me and my children is one that delighteth in mercy. Be- sides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant ; yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me ; only, go along with me.8 Mercy. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall be entertained? Had I this Mercydoubtsof hope but from one that can tell, I a<*eptancc would make no stick at all, but would go, being helped by him that can help, though the way was never so tedious.4 Christ. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do. Go with me to Christiana al - the wicket- gate, and there I will '^'f whid/'u further inquire for thee ; and if there Chri'st.andpro- thou shalt not meet with encourage- ^''inquire for ment, I will be content that thou her' shalt return to thy place. I also will pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to me and my children, in thy accompanying us in our way, as thou dost. Mercy. Then will I go thither, and will tato what shall follow ; and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of Heaven shall have his heart upon me.5 Mercy prays. 4 Though Christiana clearly knew her calling of God, yet Mercy did not ; therefore she is in doubt about it. Just so it is with many at their first setting out. Hence they are ready to say — and I have met with many who have said — that they could even wish to have had the most violent convictions of sin, and to have been, as it were, shook over the mouth of hell, that they might have a greater certainty of their being called of God. But this is speaking unadvisedly. Better to take the apostle's advice : ' Give all diligence to make your calling sure.' — (Mason.) 4 Here is a precious discovery of a heart divinely instructed. Mind, here is no looking to anything Mercy was in herself, nor to anything she could do for herself, fur hope. But all is resolved into this — even the love of the heart of the Kino of heaven. Reader, can you be content with this? Can you cast all, and rest all, upon the love of Christ ? Then bless his loving name for giving you a pilgrim's heart. — (Mason.) Mercy clearly discovered a work of grace on her heart. She was anxious about her acceptance at last ; she began to pray; she threw herself on the mere mercy of Christ's heart ; and proved ' the bowels of a pilgrim,' by lameuting the sad coudition of her carual relatious. — (Burder.) 23 178 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christiana then was glad at her heart, not only Christiana glad that she had a companion, but also of Mercy's for that she had prevailed with this company. ^^ maid to fall in love with her own salvation. So they went on together, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, Wherefore weepeth my sister so ? Mercy. Alas! said she, who can hut lament, Mercy grieves that shaU but riShtly consider, what for her carnal a state and condition my poor rela- xations.1 . ,. , , . tions are in that yet remain in our sinful town ? and that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because they have no instructor, nor any to tell them what is to come. Christ. Bowels becometh pilgrims ; and thou dost for thy friends as my good Christian did for me when he left me ; he mourned for prayers 8 were that I would not heed nor regard him; answered for his relations, after and now both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, are- reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, -Mercy, these tears of thine will not be lost ; for the truth hath said, that ' They that sow in tears shall reap in joy' in singing. And ' he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.' Ps. exxvi. 5, 6. Then said Mercy — Let the Most Blessed be my guide, If 't be his blessed will ; Unto his gate, into his fold, Up to his holy hill. 1 This truth is exemplified in the Holy War: — 'Now Mr. Desires, when he saw that he must go on this errand, besought that Mr. Wet:eyes should go with him to petition the Prince. This Mr. Wet-eyes was a poor man, a man of a broken spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition. Then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on his face to the ground, and said, O my Lord, I see dirt in my own tears, and filthiness at the bottom of my prayers ; but, I pray thee, mercifidly pass by the sin of Mansoul.' — (Ed.) 2 Perhaps the most delightful portion of the Second Dream of Bunyan is its sweet representation of the female, character. There never were two more attractive beings drawn thau Chris- tiana and Mercy ; as different from each other as Christian and Hopeful, and yet equally pleasing in their natural traits of character, and under the influence of Divine grace, each of them reflecting the light of heaven in an original and lovely variety. His own conception of what constitutes a bright example of beauty and consistency of character in a Christian woman, Bunyan has here given us, as well as in his First Dream, the model of steadfast excellence in a Christian man. The delineation, in both Christiana and Mercy, is eminently beautifid. We have, in these characters, his own ideal of the domestic virtues, and his own conception of a well-ordered Christian family's domestic happiness. Wherever he may have formed his notions of female loveliness and excellence, he has, in the combination of them in the Second Part of the ' Pil- grim's Progress,' presented two characters of such winning modesty and grace, such confiding trutb and frankness, such simplicity and artlessness, such cheerfulness and pleasantness, such native good sense and Christian discretion, such sincerity, And let him never suffer me To swerve or turn aside From his free grace, and holy ways, Whate'er shall me betide. And let him gather them of mine, That I have left behind ; Lord, make them pray they may be thine, With all their heart and mind.2 Now my old friend proceeded, and said : But when Christiana came up to the Slough lu-st i u-t, of Despond, she began to be at a p- 93- stand ; for, said she, this is the place in which my dear husband had like to have been Tneir own car. smothered with mud. She perceived, Hal ?0!ldn: * sions, instead also, that notwithstanding the com- of the Word of rnand of the King to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So I asked if that was true. Yes, said the old gentleman, too true ; for that many there be that pretend to be the King's labourers, and that say they are for mending the King's highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead of mending.3 Here Christiana, therefore, with her boys, did make a stand; but, said Mercy, Come, let us Mercy the boId. venture, only let us be wary. Then est at the they looked well to the steps, and spond.' ° made a shift to get staggeringly over.4 Yet, Christiana had like to have been in, and that not once nor twice. Now they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said unto them, ' Blessed is she that believed ; for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord. ' Lu. i. 45. gentleness, and tenderness, that nothing could be more delight- ful. The matronly virtues of Christiana, and the maidenly qualities of Mercy, are alike pleasing and appropriate. There is a mixture of timidity and frankness in Mercy, which is as sweet in itself as it is artlessly and unconsciously drawn; and in Christiana we discover the very characteristics that can make the most lovely feminine counterpart, suitable to the stem and lofty qualities of her husband. — (Cheever.) 3 Instead of being what they profess, the King's labourers, Paul calls them soul-troublers. Ga. v. 10. For instead of preaching a free, full, and finished salvation, bestowed as a free gift, by rich grace, upon poor sinners who can do nothing to entitle themselves to it ; hehold, these wretched daubers set forth salvation to sale upon certain terms and conditions which sinners are to perform and fulfil. Thus they distress the up- right and sincere, and deceive the self-righteous and unwary, into pride and delusion. Thus they mar, instead of mending, the way; and bring dirt and dung, instead of stones, to make the way sound and safe for pilgrims. — (Mason.) * ' Looked well to the steps ; ' that is, ' the promises,' as Bunyan explains in the margin of Part First. 'Struggling to be rid of our burden, it only sinks us deeper in the mire, if we do not rest by faith upon the promises, and so come indeed to Christ. Precious promises they are, and so free and full of forgiveness and eternal life, that certainly the moment a dying soul feels its guilt and misery, that soul may lay hold upon them, and find Christ in them ; aud were it not for un- belief, there need be no Slough of Despond for the soul to struggle, aud plunge, in its mire of depravity.' — (Cheever.) -(Ed.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 179 Then thov wont on again; and said Mercy to Christiana, Had 1 as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the wicket-gate as you, I think no Slough of Despond would discourage me. Well, said the other, you know your sore,1 and I know mine ; and, good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we come at our journey's end. For can it he imagined, that the people that design to attain such excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as wo arc; hut that we shall meet with what fears and scares, with what troubles and afflictions they can pos- Bibly assault us with, that hate us ? And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up to the gate; to which, when they were come, they betook themselves to a b«y made with short debate about how they must !rrta'rU°as manage their calling at the gate, and well as in faith what should be said to him that did and hope. _ . . . open to them. So it was concluded, since Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she should speak to him that did open, for the rest. So Christiana First Part, began to knock ; and, as her poor bus- p. 96. band did, she knocked, and knocked again. But, instead of any that answered, they The doe — the a^ thought tbat they heard as if a devii_an ene- dog came barking upon them ; a dog, my to prayer. ° ° L ... ° and a great one too, and this made the women and children afraid : nor durst they, for a while, to knock any more, for fear the mastiff Christiana and should fly upon them. Now, there- 5S fore, they were greatly tumbled up pmyer. au(j down Jn their minds, and knew not what to do: knock they durst not, for fear of the dog; go back they durst not, for fear the Keeper of that gate should espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them ; at last they thought of knocking again, and knocked more vehemently than they did at the first. Then said the Keeper of the gate, Who is there ? So the dog left off to bark, and he opened unto them.2 Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, 1 All the varieties in the experience of those who are walk- in? in the same path can never be enumerated; some of their sores are not only unreasonable but unaccountable, through the weakness of the human mind, the abiding effects of pecu- liar impressions, the remains of unbelief, and the artitices of t>atan. — (Scott.) 2 No sooner does a poor sinner open his lips in prayer to Jesus, but the devil will bark at him, and by all means try to terrify and discourage him. Do you find this ? "What is our remedy ? ' Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you,' Ja. iv, 7, 8. — (Mason.) "When the fear of God possesses the heart, such disturbances cannot long prevent earnest cries for mercy, but will eventually reuder them more fervent and importunate than ever. — (Scott.) Let not our Lord be offended with his hand- maidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate. Then said the Keeper, Whence come ye, and what is that you would have ? Christiana answered, We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon the same errand as he ; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted by this gate into the way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in the next place, that 1 am Christiana, once the wife of Christian, that now is gotten above.3 With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, What ! is she become now a pilgrim that, but a while ago, abhorred that life ? Then she bowed her head, and said, Yes, and so are these my sweet babes also. Then he took her by the hand, and let her in, and said also, ' Suffer the little children How Christiana to come unto me;' and with that he « entertained shut up the gate. This done, he called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana with shouting and sound of trumpet for joy. So he obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes. Lu. iv. 7. Now all this while poor Mercy did stand with- out, trembling and crying, for fear that she was rejected. But when Christiana had gotten admit- tance for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy. Christ. And she said, My Lord, I have a com- panion of mine that stands yet with- q^^,,.^ out, that is come hither upon the same prayer for her .. \ , • 1 friend Mercy. account as myself ; one that is much dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for ; whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come. Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute was as long to her as an hour ; wherefore she prevented Christiana Thedeiaysmake from a fuller interceding for her, by ^'SfleS knocking at the gate herself. And vcnter- she knocked then so loud, that she made Chris- tiana to start. Then said the Keeper of the gate, Who is there ? and said Christiana, It is my friend. So he opened the gate and looked out, but 3 Think much of them that have gone before ; how safe they are in the bosom of Jesus. Would they be here again for a thousand worlds? Sometimes when my base heart hath been inclining to this world, and to loiter iu my journej towards heaven, the very consideration of the glorious saints and angels— what they enjoy, what low thoughts they have of the things of this world, how they would befool me if they did but know that my heart was drawing back— this hath made mc rush forward, and disdain those beggarly things; and say to my soul, Come, soul, let us not be weary; let us see what heaven is; let us venture all for it. It will quit the cost. Reader, what sayest thou to this? Art thou resolved to follow me? Nay, resolve to get before me if thou canst. — {Heavenly Footman.) 180 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Mercy was fallen down without, in a swoon, for she fainted, and was afraid that no gate Mercy faints. , , , , . , ° would be opened to ner. Then he took her by the hand, and said, Dam- eel, I bid thee arise. 0 Sir, said she, I am faint ; there is scarce life left in me. But he answered, That one once said, 4 When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord ; and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple.' Jonah u. 7. Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come.1 Mercy. I am come for that unto which I was The cause of never invited, as my friend Christiana her fainting. was# JJera was from tJje King, and mine was but from her. Wherefore I fear I pre- sume.2 Keep. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place ? Mercy. Yes ; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And, if there is any grace or forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that I, tby poor hand- maid, may be partaker thereof. Then he took her again by the hand, and led her gently in, and said, I pray for all them that believe on me, by what means soever they come unto me. Then said he to those that stood by, Fetch something, and give it Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting. So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh ; and a while after, she was revived.3 And now was Christiana and her boys, and Mercy, received of the Lord at the head of the 1 Being made to understand what great sinners the Lord hath had mercy upon, and how large his promises were still to sinners, this made me, through the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to cleave to him, to hang upon him, and yet to cry, though as yet there was no answer, The Lord help all his poor, tempted, afflicted people to do the like. — (Bunyan.) 2 Mercy's case is not singular. Many have set out just as she did, and have been discouraged by the same reason as she was. She, as many have been, was encouraged to set out in the ways of the Lord by her neighbour and friend. Hence she, as many others also have thought, there was no cause to conclude that she was effectually called by the Lord, but it was only the effect of moral persuasion, and therefore doubted and fainted, lest she should not meet with acceptance. But her very doubts, fears, and distress, proved the earnestness of her heart, and the desire of her soul, after the Saviour j and also that his attracting love and gracious power had a hand in the work. "Well therefore might Bunyan call upon his readers to mark her graeious reception by Christ. Mark this, ye poor, doubting, fearing, trembling souls, who are halting every step, and fearing you have not set out aright, hear what Christ's angel said, and be not discouraged: ' Fear not ye, for I know that ye seek Jesus.' Mat. xxviii. 5. — (Mason.) 3 The prisoners taken in the Holy War were affected like Mercy. ' Why did you not cry to me before, said the Prince, yet I will answer you so as will be for my glory. At this Mr. Wet-eyes gave a great sigh, and death seemed to sit on their eye-brows ; they covered their faces, and threw them- selves down before him. Then the Prince bid them stand upon their feet, and said, I have power to forgive, and I do forgive. Moreover, he stripped the prisoners of their mourn- ing-weeds, and gave them beauty lor ashes.' — (Ed.) way, and spoke kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto him, We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and further information what we must do. I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed : by word, in the promise of forgiveness ; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, Ca. i. 2 ; and the other as it shall be Tevealed.4 jn. xx. 20. Now, I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they were greatly gladded. He also had them up to the top of the gate, and showed them by what deed Christ crucified they were saved; and told them withal, 8een ^ off- That that sight they would have again, as they went along in the way, to their comfort. So he left them a while in a summer parlour below, where they entered into talk Talk between the by themselves ; and thus Christiana Christians. began : 0 Lord ! how glad am 1 that we are got in hither. Mercy. So you well may; but I of all have cause to leap for joy. Christ. I thought one time, as I stood at the gate (because I had knocked, and none did an- swer), that all our labour had been lost, especially when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking against us.5 Mercy. But my worse fear was after I saw that you was taken into his favour, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, ' Two women shall be grinding together, the one shall be taken and the other left. ' u Mat. xxiv. 41. I had much ado to forbear crying out, Undone ! undone ! 7 4 Pardon by word seems to denote the general discovery of free salvation by Jesus Christ to all that believe, which is sealed by transient comforts and lively affections. Par- don by deed may relate to the manner in which the bless- ing was purchased by the Saviour ; and when this is clearly understood, the believer attains to stable peace and hope. — (Scott.) 6 The devil often barks most at us, and brings his heaviest accusations against us, when mercy, peace, comfort, and salva- tion are nearest to us. 'Press on, nor fear to win the day, Though earth and hell obstruct the way.' — (Mason.) 6 Many hellish darts are tipped by Apollyon's malignaut ingenuity with sentences of Scripture, made to flame just like the fiery darts of the wicked one; so that the Scriptures appear to stand against the trembling Christian. — (Ed.) 7 Here is genuine humility ; no replying against God — no calling in question his sovereign right to receive or to reject. No; all that this poor humble heart thought was, now is fulfilled what is written, ' One shall be taken and the other left.' If so, what had she to say ? No impeachment of the Lord's dealings, but ouly, I am undone. But yet, on seeing what was written over the gate, ' Knock, and it shall be opened,' from that, and not from any sight of worthiness in herself, but lost as she felt herself, she was encouraged to knock again, or to cry and pray more vehemently than ever. Here is a blessed example of deep humility, and of holy boldness, excited by the Divine WTord. Go thou, ruined sinner, and do likewise. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 181 And afraid I was to knock anymore; but when Rrst Part, I looked up to what was written over p. 96. tne gate, I took courage.1 I also thought that I must either knock again, or die ; so I knocked, but 1 cannot tell how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death. Christ. Can you not tell how you knocked ? Christ i:i!KUhinks I am sure your knocks were so ear- i'rnVs''i,''iu'rml iK>st, that the very sound of them th,nslu- made me start; I thought I never heard such knocking in all my life ; I thought you would have come in by violent hands, or have taken the kingdom by storm. Mat xi. 12. Mercy. Alas ! to be in my case, who that so was could but have done so ? You saw that the door was shut upon me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, 1 say, that was so faint-hearted us I, that would not have knocked with all their might ? But, pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness ? "Was he not angry with me ? Christ. When he heard your lumbering noise, Christ pleased he Save a wonderful innocent smile ; with loud and I believe what you did pleased him well enough, for he showed no sign to the contrary. But I marvel in my heart, why he keeps such a dog ; had I known that first did knoV before," I fear I should not have had meet with in ita heart enough to have ventured myself journey to hea- m ^jg manner. But now we are in, vn, it would . . ' hardly ever set we are in ; and I am glad with all my heart.3 Mercy. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard ; I hope he will not take it amiss. Aye, do, said the children, and persuade him to The children are hang him ; for we are afraid he will afraid of the dog. ^ite us when we g0 hence. So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before him, and worshipped, and said, Let my Lord accept of the sacrifice of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips. So he said unto her, ' Peace be to thee, stand up.' But she continued upon her face, and said, ' Righteous art thou, 0 Lord, when I plead with thee: yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments.' 1 The express words of such invitations, exhortations, and prolines, written in the Bible, are more efficacious to en- jourage those who are ready to give up their hopes, than all the consolatory topics that can possibly be substituted in their place.— (Scott.) a "When a mariner enters upon a voyage, or a soldier on a campaign, they know not what hardships they may encounter, nor whether their lives may be sacrificed without attaining their object; but whatever hardships the Christian has to encounter, he will come off more than conqueror — he will reach the desired haven in safety — through him that loved us. Fear not — 'Though death and hell ohstruct the way, The meanest saint shall win the day.— (Ed.) Jc. xii. i. Wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a dog in thy yard, at tho sight of which Merc; upoita- such women and children as we, are late* about the ready to fiy from thy gate for fear ? °s' lie answered and said, That dog has another owner, he also is kept close in another man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his harking; he belongs to the castle which you see there at a distance, but can come nrst p.llt, up to the walls of thi3 place. He has p- 90- frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him doth not keep him of any goodwill to me or mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I loved ; but I take all at present patiently. I also give my pilgrims A chcck to the timely help, so they are not delivered carnal fear of up to his power, to do to them wdiat his doggish nature would prompt him to. But ■what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much beforehand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door will, rather than they will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, barking, and biting, too, of a dog ; and shall a dog — a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims — keep any from coming to me ? I deliver them from the lions, their darling from the power of the dog.4 Mercy. Then said Mercy, I con- airi8tian97 when fess my ignorance ; I spake what I wise enough, ac- , , tiii quiesce m the understood not ; 1 acknowledge that wisdom of then thou dost all things well. Christ. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of his steps, according as he had j-u-st p;irt, dealt with her husband before. So I P* 97- saw in my dream, that they walked on in their way, and had the weather very comfortable to them. Then Christiana began to sing, saying— Bless'd be the day that I began A pilgrim for to be ; And blessed also be that man That thereto moved me. 3 Strive to enter in; a whole heaven and eternal life is wrapped up in this little word IN. Strive ; this calls for the mind and heart. Many professors make their striving to stand rather in an outcry of words, than in a hearty labour against the lusts and love of the world, and their own corruptions. But this kind of striving is but a beating the air, and will come to nothing at last. — (Bunyan's Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 369.) 4 Thus the dog of hell may be of service, not only in keeping the sheep close together, hut in making them keep close to their Shepherd.— (J. B.) 182 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. lis true, 'twas long ere I began To seek to live for ever : But now I run fast as I can ; 'Tis better late than never. Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, Are turned, as we see, That our beginning, as one saith, Shows what our end will be. Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up which Christiana and The devil's Her companions were to go, a garden, garden. an(j tkat garden belonged to him whose was that harking dog of whom mention was made hefore. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall ; and heing mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, as boys are apt to do, ,. ._. . being pleased with the trees, and with 1 hp children eat » r_ » of the enemy's the fruit that did hang thereon, did plash1 them, and began to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on.2 Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for that fruit is none of ours ; but she did not know that they did belong to the enemy ; I will warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from the place that let them into the Two ill-favoured way, they espied two very ill-favoured ones- ones coming down apace to meet them.3 With that, Christiana and Mercy, her friend, covered themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey ; the children also went on before ; so that at last they met together. Then they that came down to meet them, came just up They assault to the women, as if they would em- Christiana. brace them . but Christiana said, 1 ' Plash ' was, in later editions, altered to ' pluck.' To plash, is to cut hedges or trees. The boys did plash, or had a cut at the trees, to knock the fruit off. — (Ed.) 2 What is this garden but the world ? What is the fruit they here found? ' The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life.' 1 Jn. ii. 16. Of this the boys ate. The mother chides them for taking that which did not belong to them, but she did not know that it grew in the devil's garden. Mark the consequence of their eating this fruit here- after.— (Mason.) The terrifying suggestions of Satan [the dog's barking] give believers much present uneasiness, yet they often do them great good, and seldom eventually hurt them ; but the allurements of those worldly objects which he throws in their way are far more dangerous and pernicious. Many of these arc very attractive to young persons; but all parents who love the souls of their children should employ all their influence and authority to restrain them from those vain pleasures which ' war against the soul,' and are most dangerous when least suspected. This fruit may be found in the pilgrim's path, but it grows in Beelzebub's garden, and should be shunned as poison. Many diversions and pursuits, both in high and low life, are of this nature, though often pleaded for as inno- cent, by some persons who ought to know better. — (Scott.) Stand back, or go peaceably by, as you should. Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana's words, but began to lay hands upon them. At that Christiana, waxing very ^ p.]?rimg wroth, spurned at them with her feet, struggle with Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, Stand back, and begone; for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends. Ill-favoured. Then said one of the two of the men, We make no assault upon you for money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one small request, which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever. Christ. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again, We will neither hear, nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, cannot stay ; our business is a business of life and death. So, again, she and her companions made a fresh essay to go past them ; but they letted them in their way. Ill-fav. And they said, We intend no hurt to your lives ; it is another thing we would have. Christ. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and soul, for I know it is for ,, , , . ... ,. She cries out. that you are come ; but we will die rather upon the spot, than suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall hazard our well- being hereafter. And with that they both shrieked out, and cried, Murder ! murder ! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women. De. xxii. 23-27. But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They, therefore, cried out again.4 Now, they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at which they came, their voice It is gooa to cry was heard from where they were, out when we thither ; wherefore some of the house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana's tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women 8 What are these ill-favoured ones ? Such as you will be sure to meet with in your pilgrimage ; some vile lusts, or cursed corruptions, which are suited to your carnal nature. These will attack you, and strive to prevail against you. Mind how these pilgrims acted, and follow their example. If one was to fix names to these ill-favoured ones, they might be called Unbelief and Licentiousness, which aim to rob Christ's virgins of their chastity to him. — (Mason.) 4 Here we see that the most violent temptation to the greatest evil is not sin, if resisted and not complied with. Our Lord himself was tempted in all things like as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, ye followers of him, do not be dejected and cast down, though you should be exercised with temptations to the blackest crimes, and the most heinous sins. You cannot be assaulted with worse than your Lord was, He was tempted, but he resisted Satan, and overcame all, in our nature. Cry to him 3 he is the Reliever who will come in the hour of distress. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. IS3 were in a very great scuffle, the children also stood The Reliever orying by. Then did ho that came comes. Jn f0,. tjl0;r rei;ef Cll\\ out t0 t]10 ruf. fians, saying, What is that thing that you do ? Would you make niy Lord's people to transgress ? The ill ones flv ^° a'so Attempted to take them, hut to the devil f ox they did make their escape over the wall, into the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged ; so the dog became their protector. Tins Reliever then came up to the women, and asked them how they did. So they answered, We thank thy Prince, pretty well; oidy we have been somewhat affrighted ; we thank thee also, for that thou earnest in to our help, for other- wise we had been overcome. Reliever. So after a few more words, this Re- Ti,< iMievor talks Hew said as followetli : I marvelled to the women. mucn when you were entertained at the gate above, being, [as] ye knew, that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord there for a conductor; then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers, for he would have granted you one.1 Curist. Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken with our present blessing, that Mark this. . r - =' dangers to come were forgotten by us ; besides, who could have thought, that so near the King's palace, there should have lurked such naughty ones ? Indeed, it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one ; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us ! 2 Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things Weloseforwant not asked for, lest, by so doing, they of asking fur. become of little esteem ; but when the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its due, and so, consequently, will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would not neither so have bewailed that oversight of yours, in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary. Christ. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask one ? Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present him with. To go back again you need not; for in all places where you shall come, you will find 1 ' Yc have not, because yc ask not.' Ja. iv. 2. 2 It is well to be taken with present blessings, to be joyful in them, and thankful for them ; but it is wrong to forget our dangers, and grow secure. — (Mason.) 3 When the soul is happy in the love of God, it is ready to conclude that dangers are past, that doubts and fears are entirely removed ; but as loug as we arc in this world, we shall find the expediency of our Lord's exhortation — ' Watch and pray.' — (J. B.) 4 Here is a display of a truly Christian spirit, in that open and ingenuous confession of her fault, taking all the blame no want at all ; for in every of my Lord's lod"-in"-s, which he has prepared for the reception of his pil- grims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, ' lie will be inquired of by them, to do it for them.' Eze. xnvi. 87. And it is a poor thing that is not worth asking for. When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the Pilgrims went on their way. Mercy. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here ! I made account we had The mistake of now been past all danger, and that Merry. we should never see sorrow more.3 Christ. Thy innocency, my sister, said Chris- tiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my fault is so much the greater, Christiana's for that I saw this danger before I BmlL came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it where provision might have been had. I am therefore much to be blamed.4 Mercy. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle. Christ. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this ; for, methought I saw two men, as like these as ever the world they could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words. They said (it was when I was in my troubles), What shall we do with this Christiana's woman ? for she cries out, waking and drcam rePeated- sleeping, for forgiveness. If she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her, as we have lost her husband. This, you know, might have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had. Mercy. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an occasion ministered unto Mercy makes us, to behold our own imperfections; f^ir neglect ot so our Lord has taken occasion thereby, du(y- to make manifest the riches of his grace ; for he, as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure.5 Thus, now when they had talked away a little more time, they drew nigh to a house which stood in the way, which house was built for the relief of pilgrims ; as you will find more fully related in the upon herself, and excusing Mercy. This is not natural to us, but the grace of Christ humbles the heart, and silences the tongue to self-justifying pleas. O for more of this precious grace ! — (Mason.) 6 Mark those phrases — 'the riches of his grace,' and ' his mere good pleasure.' You cannot entertain too exalted ideas of these, nor speak too highly of them. Pilgrims should be known by their language as well as their walk. 'I hose who talk highly of their own perfection, speak little, if at all, of the riches of God's grace, and the good pleasure of his will. Beware of the infection of pride and si-lf-riijlitcuus lcaveu.— (Mason.) 184 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. First Part of these Records of the Pilgrim's Pro- gress. So they drew on towards the house (the House of the Interpreter), and when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in Talk in the ,, , i m j interpreter's the house. Ihey then gave ear, and. cSata^ heard> as they thought, Christiana going on pil- mentioned hy name. For you must gnmage. , •* •> know that there went along, even be- fore her, a talk of her and her children's going on pilgrimage. And this thing was the more pleasing to them, because they had heard that she was Chris- tian's wife, that woman who was sometime ago so unwilling to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, who, they little thought, She knocks at stood at the door. At last Christiana the door. knocked, as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to The d the door a young damsel, named Inno- openedtothem cent, and opened the door and looked, and behold two women were there. Damsel. Then said the damsel to them, With whom would you speak in this place ? Christ. Christiana answered, We understand that this is a privileged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such ; wherefore we pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this time are come ; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loath to-night to go any further. Damsel. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord within ? Christ. My name is Christiana ; I was the wife of that pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way, and these be his four children. This maiden also is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too. Innocent. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name) and said to those within, Can you think Joyin the House w^° ls at tue door • There is Chris- of the inter- tiana and her children, and her com- preter that . , ' Christiana is panion, all waiting for entertainment p grim. jjere_ Then they leaped for joy, and went and told their master. So he came to the door, and looking upon her, he said, Art thou that Christiana whom Christian, the good man, left behind him, when he betook himself to a pilgrim's life? Christ. I am that woman that was so hard- hearted, as to slight my husband's troubles, and 1 The Holy Spirit, the Interpreter, who was promised by the Lord Jesus to be sent in his name, guides believers into all truth. ' And they shall be all taught of God.' Jn. vi. 45. Humble confession, and serious consecration of heart, are sacrifices acceptable, well-pleasing to God ; and such simple- hearted pilgrims are received by the church with a hearty wel- come. ' The Spirit and the bride say, Come ; and let him that heareth say, Come.' Re. xxii. 17.— (Ed.) 2 Here is joy indeed, which strangers to the love of Christ intermeddle not with. Surely, this is the joy of heaven ; and that left him to go on in his journey alone, and these are his four children ; but now I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this. Inter. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the man that said to his son, ' Go, work to-day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not : but afterward he repented and went.' Mat. xxi. 29. ' Christ. Then said Christiana, So be it, Amen. God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last of him in peace, without spot, and blameless ! Inter. But why standest thou thus at the door ? Come in, thou daughter of Abraham. We were talking of thee but now, for tidings have come to us before, how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in ; come, maiden, come in. So he had them all into the house.1 So, when they were within, they were bidden sit down and rest them ; the which when they had done, those that attended upon the Pilgrims in the house, came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and another smiled, and they Qld saintg . . all smiled, for joy that Christiana was to see the become a pilgrim. They also looked waik'm God's upon the boys. They stroked them ways- over the faces with the hand, in token of their kind reception of them. They also carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all welcome into their Master's house.2 After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them into his signifi- , ii 1.1 1 . The Significant cant rooms, and snowed them what Rooms. Christian, Christiana's husband, had First Part, seen some time before. Here, there- p-98- 103- fore, they saw the man in the cage, the man and his dream, the man that cut his way through his enemies, and the picture of the biggest of them all, together with the rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian. This done, and after these things had been some- what digested by Christiana and her company, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them first into a room where was a man that T, „ mo„ ... J. he man with could look no way but downwards, with the muck-rake a muck-rake in his hand. There stood also one over his head with a celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither look up, nor regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor.3 if thou hast this joy, thou hast the love that reigns in heaven. Glory to Jesus, 1 think I can truly say, I have this blessed evidence in my heart, that I know somewhat of this joy arising from seeing poor lost sinners converted to Jesus, so as to love him and follow him. 0 for a spread and increase of this spirit among Christians of all denominations ! — (Mason.) 3 The emblematical instruction at the Interpreter's house, in the former part, was so important and comprehensive, that THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 185 Then said Christiana, I persuade myself that I know somewhat the meaning of this ; for this is a | figure of a man of this world, is it not, good Sir ? j IRTER. Thou hast said the right, said he, and his muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And whereas thou sccst him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to what He says that calls to him from ahove with the oeleBtial crown in his hand, it is to show that heaven is hut as a fahle to some, and that things here are counted the only things sub- stantial. Now, whereas, it was also showed thee, that the man could look no way hut downwards, it is to let thee know that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds, quite carry their hearts away from God.1 _ . „ , Christ. Then said Christiana, 0 Christianas l i 2 prayer against deliver me from this muck-rake ! the muck-rake. j^^ ^^ prayer> ga;d the Inter. preter, has lain hy till it is almost rusty. ' Give me not riches,' is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand, Pr. *xx. 8. Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things now looked after.3 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, It is, alas ! too true.4 "When the Interpreter had shown them this, he has them into the very best room in the house; a very brave room it was. So he bid them look round about, and see if they could find anything profitable there. Then they looked round and round ; for there was nothing there to be seen but a very great spider on the Avail : and that they overlooked. we are astonished at the striking additions here adduced. The lirst emblem is very plain ; and so apposite, that it is won- derful any person should read it without lifting up a prayer to the Lord, and Baying, ' 0 deliver me from this muck-rake!' — (Scott, altered by En.) Awful thought 1 Straws, and sticks, and dust, preferred to Christ and salvation 1 ' If angels weep, it is at such a sight !' — (Burder.) 1 Our Lord said, ' Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.' To be carnally-minded is death, but to be spiritually-minded is life and peace. If our treasure is in heaven, we need not envy those griping muck-worms who are cursed in their basket and in their store. — (J. B.) 2 The vulture of insatiate minds Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds New fuel to increase her rav'nous fire. The grave is sooner cloy'd thau men's desire. — (Quarks' Emblerns) 3 A full purse and a lean soul, is a sign of a great curse. O it is a sad grant, when the desire is only to make the belly big, the estate big, the name big ; when even by this bigness the soul pines, is made to dwindle, to grow lean, and to look like an anatomy ! Like a man in a dropsy, they desire this world, as he doth drink, till they desire themselves quite down to hell. — (Bunyan's Desire of the Righteous, vol. i. p. 767.) 4 Reader, didst thou never shed a tear for thy base and disingenuous conduct towards thy Lord, in preferring the sticks and straps of this world to the unsearchable riches of Christ, and the salvation of thy immortal soul? 0 this is natural to us all ! and though made wise unto salvation, yet this folly cleaves to onr old nature still. Let the thought humble us, and make us weep before the Lord. — (Mason.) VOL. III. Mercy. Then said Mercy, Sir, 1 see nothing ; but Christiana held her peace. Inter. But, said the Interpreter, look again : and she therefore looked ao-ain, and • i ii • t it • it i 0**1" si,'",,r- said, Here is not anything but an ugly spider, who hangs hy her hands upon the wall Then said he, Is there but one spider in all this spacious room? Then the water stood in Chris- tiana's eyes, for she was a woman quick of ap- prehension; and she said, Yea, Lord, Tau, ai)0Ut t)ie there is here more than one. Yea, BpM«r. and spiders whose venom is far more destructive than that which is in her. The Interpreter then looked pleasantly upon her, and said, Thou hast said the truth. This made Mercy blush, and the boys to cover their faces, for they all began now to understand the riddle.0 Then said the Interpreter again, ' The spider taketh hold with their hands (as you see), and is in kings' palaces.' Pr. xxx. 28. And wherefore is this recorded, but to show you, that how The interpreta- full of the venom of sin soever you be, l10"- yet you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold of, and dwell in the best room that belongs to the King's house above!0 Christ. I thought, said Christiana, of some- thing of this ; but I could not imagine it all. I thought that we were like spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what fine room soever we were ; but that by this spider, this venomous and ill-favoured creature, wc were to learn how to act faith, that came not into my mind. And yet she has taken hold with her hands, as I see, and dwells in the best room in the house. God has made nothing in vain. Then they seemed all to be glad ; but the water stood in their eyes; yet they looked one upon another, and also bowed before the Interpreter. 0 They knew the venom of sin which was in their fallen nature. This made them cover their faces with shame, and sink into deep humility of heart. Every true interpreter of God's Word — yea, the blessed Interpreter of Gods heart, Jesus — will look pleasantly upon such who confess the truth ; while he beholds the proud, self-righteous siuner afar off. — (Mason.) 6 faith apprehends, and then the soul dwells in the best room indeed, even in the very heart of God in Christ. The Lord increase our faith in tins precious truth, that we may the more love and glorify the God of grace and truth ! O let not our venom of sin deject us, while there is the blood of Christ to cleanse usl 0 for a stronger love to Christ, and greater hatred of sin ! Both spring from believing. — (Mason.) The emblem of the spider is illustrated in Bunyan's invaluable treatise on the Resurrection and Eternal Judgment — 'The spider will be a witness against man, for she layeth hold with her hands, and is in kings' palaces. It is man only that will not lay hold on the kingdom of heaven, as the sj ider doth bid aim. i"'r. xxx. 28.'— (Vol. ii. p. 111.)— (En.) Call me not ugly thing; God, wisdom hath unto the pismire given, And spiders may teach men the way to heaven. . . (Bunyan's Emblems) 24 ISC THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. He had them then into another room, where Of the Hen and was a hen an, ... n.riU.aiia'sex- herself to a rilgrim s lite. Christiana pcrieucc. answered, First, The loss of my hus- band came into my mind, at which I was heartily grieved ; but all that was but natural affection. Then, after that, came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into my mind, and also how like a churl I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt tuok hold of my mind, and would have drawn me into the pond ; but that opportunely I had a dream of the well-being of my husband, and a letter sent me by the King of that country where my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to this way. Inter. But met you with no opposition before you set out of doors ? Christ. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. Timorous (she was akin to him that would have persuaded my husband to go back, for fear of the lions). She all to befooled me for, as she called it, my intended desperate adventure ; she also urged hearted sinner. Well, thank God, says many a self-confident, whole-hearted Pharisee, it is far from being mine. We can only say this, he that knows most of his own superlatively deceitful and desperately wicked heart, suspects himself most, and exercises most godly jealousy over himself; while persons, who see least of themselves, are most self-confident and daring. Even Judas could as boldly ask, 'Master, is it I' who shall betray thee? as any of the rest of his disciples. — (Mason.) 1 Mr. lvimey supposes this to be intended by Mr. Jiunyan to show his approbation of the practice of singing in public worship. It was then a custom which had been recently introduced, and was a subject of strong controversy. Soon after Dunyau's death, Benjamin Keach vindicated the prac- tice, by proving that singing is an ordinance of Jesus Clirist, in answer to Marlowe's Discourse against Suigiuy. It must not be forgotten, that our pilgrim forefathers generally met in secret, and that singing would have exposed them to imminent peril of their lives. .Now we have no such fear; we can unite heart aud voice in the language of Dr. Watts — ' Lord, how delightlul 'tis to see A whole assembly worship thee! At once they sing.' That is, when singing men or women do not prevent the godly from uniting in this delightful part of Divine worship by introducing new tunes, to sing to the praise aud glory of themselves. Let such as are guilty of this solemnly ask the question, Was the late Mr. Huntingdon right in estimating their piety at less than twopence per dozen ? — (Ed.) what she could to dishearten me to it ; the hard- ship and troubles that my husband met with in the way, but all this I got over pretty well.2 But a dream that I had of two ill-looked ones, that I thought did plot how to make me miscarry in my journey, that hath troubled me much ; yea, it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that I meet, lost they should meet me to do me a mischief, and to turn me out of the way. Yea, I may tell my Lord, though I would not have every- body know it, that between this and the gate by which we got into the way, we were both so sorely assaulted that we were made to cry out, Murder ! and the two that made this assault upon us were like the two that I saw in my dream. Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good, thy latter end shall greatly in- a question put crease. So he addressed himself to t0 Mercy- Mercy, and said unto her, And what moved thee to come hither, sweet heart ? Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent. Inter. Then, said he, be not afraid, only believe, and speak thy mind. Mercy. So she began, and said, Truly, Sir, my want of experience is that which „ , x ., , Mercy's answer. makes me covet to be in silence, and that also that fills me with fears of coming short at last. I cannot tell of visions and dreams as my friend Christiana can ; nor know I what it is to mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that were good relations.3 Inter. What was it then, dear heart, that hath prevailed with thee to do as thou hast done ? Mercy. Why, when our friend here was packing up to be gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to see her ; so we knocked at the door and went in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked what was her meaning. She said, she was scut for to go to her husband ; and then she up and told us how she had seen him in a dream, dwelling in a curious place, among immortals, wearing a crown, playing 2 Ah, Mrs. Timorous, how many professed pilgrims hast thou befooled and turned back 1 How often does she attack and affright many real pilgrims ! I am sure she has often made my poor heart ache with her ghastly looks and terrify- ing speeches. 0 may we ever say to her, in our Lord's words, ' Get thee behind me, Satan ; thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.' Mat. xvi. 23.— (Mason.) s A very simple and artless confession. The Lord works very diti'erently upon his elect ; but always to the same end, namely, to make us prize Christ, his salvation and his ways, aud to abhor ourselves, the paths of sin, and to cast off all self-righteous hopes. If this is effected in thy heart, reader, no matter whether thou canst tell of visions aud dreams, and talk high of experiences. Where the soul is rooted and grounded in the knowledge of Christ, and love to his ways, though there may be many fears, yet this is an indubitable proof of a real and sincere pilgrim. — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 189 upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince's table, and singing praises to him for bringing him (hither, A:c. Now, methought, while she was telling- tliese things unto us, my heart burned within me ; and 1 said in my heart, If this he true, I will leave my father and my mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if 1 may, go along with Christiana. So I asked her further of the truth of these tilings, and if she would let ine go with her; for I saw now that there was no dwelling, hut with the danger of ruin, any longer in our town. But yel 1 came away with a heavy heart, not for that I was unwilling to come away, but for that so many of my relations were left behind. And I am come, with all the desire of my heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana, unto her husband, and his King.1 Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast •riven credit to the truth.-' Thou art a Ruth, who did, for the love she bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, leave father and mother, and the land of her Dativity, to come out, and go with a people that she knew not heretofore. ' The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, uuder whose wings thou art come to trust.' r.u. H. 12. Now supper was ended, and preparation was „, ,, made for bed; the women were laid Tliev address . ' themselves singly alone, and the boys by them- lorbed. , J xt i nr ■ i j selves. JN ow when Mercy was in bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts Mercy's good of missing at last, were removed night's rest. furt}ier from jier than ever they were before. So she lay blessing and praising God, who had had such favour for her. In the morning they rose with the sun, and prepared themselves for their departure ; but the Interpreter would have them tarry awhile, for, said he, you must orderly go from hence. Then, said 1 They who are acquainted with the manner in which per- sons are received into Congregational churches, by relating a verbal account of their experience, will recognize in this nar- rative a resemblance to that practice. Christiana, a grave matron, appears to have felt no difficulty in complying with the requisition; but Mercy, young and inexperienced, blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent. Their profes- sion being approved, the readiness of the church to receive them is expressed by the warmest wishes for their spiritual prosperity. — (Ivimey.) 2 'Thou hast given credit to the truth;' what is this but faith — the faith of the operation of God? But some may ask, What ! is justifying, saving faith, nothing more than a belief of the truth? If so, the very devils believe ; yea, more, they tremble also. True; but mind how Mercy's faith wrought Ly her works. She tied for refuge to the hope set before her in the gospel. She tied from sin, from the City of Destruction, to Christ for salvation. Though she had not the joy of faith, yet she followed on to know the Lord, walking in his ways, and hoping for comfort from the Lord in his due time. O ! if thou hast a irrain of this precious faith in thy heart, bless Jesus for it, and go on thy way rejoicing. — (Mason.) They are sealed. he to the damsel that first opened unto them, Tako them and have them into the garden to the bath, and there wash them, and make them clean from the sod which they have gathered by travelling. Then Innocent the damsel took them, and had them into the garden, and brought The bath them to the bath; so she told them Sanctincathm. that there they must wash and be clean, for so her master would have the women to do that called at his house, as they were going on pilgrimage. They then went in and washed, yea, ,., ... , , , i ii ii J hey wash 111 it. they and the boys and all ; and they came out of that bath, not only sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and strengthened in their joints.3 So when they came in, they looked fairer a deal than when they went out to the washing.4 When they were returned out of the garden from the bath, the Interpreter took them, and looked upon them, and said unto them, Fair as the moon. Then he called for the seal, wherewith they used to be sealed that were washed in his bath. So the seal was brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they might he known in the places whither they were yet to go. Now the seal was the contents and sum of the passover which the children of Israel did eat when they came out from the land of Egypt, and the mark was set between their eyes.'' This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament to their faces. It also added to their 3 Mr. Ivimey considers that this bath in the garden refers to the baptism of the pilgrims by immersion, after having related their experience, as a publicly putting on of Christ. ' And now why tamest thou ? Arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord.' Ac. xxii. 10. Innocent says that ' her master would have them do;' and they went out into the garden to the bath, and were much enlivened by it. Bunyan left it to the convert to act for himself as to water-baptism; all that he required, as a pre- requisite to church-communion, was the new birth, or the bap- tism of the Holy Spirit, lie calls this the ' bath of sanetifica- tion;' no Christian considers water-baptism a source of sancti- fication; it is only the outward sign. It must be left to the reader's candid judgment to decide whether baptism, upon a profession of faith, is lure intended by that that the master VAjald have them. do. — (Ko.) 4 There is no travelling on pilgrimage without gathering soil. There are no pilgrims but daily need to have recourse to this bath of sanctification — the blood of Jesus, which cleanses from all sin. 1 Ju. i. 7- Christ is the fountain opened for sin and for uucleanness. Zee. xiii. 1. Christ is the soul's only bath. As all baths arc for the purification of the body, such is this bath to our soul. But unless a bath be used, this cannot be etl'ccted ; so, uuless we have recourse to Christ, we cannot enjoy the purification of the soul; but the Holy Ghost, the Sauctilier, convinces us of sin, shows us our fresh-contracted spots and defilements, and leads us to the blood of the Iamb. (J h,w docs this enliven and strengthen our souls, by filling our conscience with joy and peace in believing !— (Mason.) 6 Baptism and the Lord's Supper I receive and own of the covenant of grace ; the former as a sign of our engraft- ing into Christ, and the latter to show forth his death, as an emblem or type of the benefits purchased thereby to his chuicii and people— (Philip Henry, altered by t,D.) 190 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. True humility. gravity, and made their countenances more like them of angels.1 Ex. nil s-io. Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that waited upon these women, Go into the vestry and fetch out garments for these people ; so she They me went and fetched out white raiment, clothed. amj jajj (jown before him ; so he com- manded them to put it on. ' It was fine linen, white and clean.' When the women were thus adorned, they seemed to he a terror one to the other ; for that they could not see that glory each one on herself, which they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they began to esteem each other better than themselves. ' For you are fairer than I am,' said one; and 'you are more comely than I am,' said another.2 The children also stood amazed to see into what fashion they were brought.3 The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-heart, and bid him take sword, and helmet, and shield ; and take these my daugh- ters, said he, and conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which place they will rest next.4 So he took his weapons and went before them ; and the Interpreter said, God speed. Those also that belonged to the family, sent them away with many a good wish. So they went on their way and fang— This place has been our second stage; Here we have heard and seen Those good things that, from age to age, To others hid have been. The dnnghill-raker, spider, hen, The chicken, too, to me Hath taught a lesson; let me then Conformed to it be. The butcher, garden, and the field, The robin and his bait, Also the rotten tree doth yield Me argument of weight ; 1 This means the sealing of the Spirit, whereby they were sealed unto the day of redemption. Ep. iv. 30. 0 this is blessed sealing ! None know the comfort and joy of it but those who have experienced it. It confirms our faith, estab- lishes our hope, and inflames our affections to God the Father for his everlasting love, to God the Son for his everlasting atonement and righteousness, and to God the Spirit for his enlightening mercy, regenerating grace, quickening, sanctify- ing, testifying, and assuring influences, whereby we know that we are the children of God ; for ' the Spirit itself beareth wit- ness with our spirits, that we are the children of God.' Ro. viii. 16. All the comfort of our souls lies in keeping this seal clear in our view. Therefore grieve not the Holy" Spirit. — (Mason.) - They who have put on this raiment are clothed with humility; they readily perceive the excellence of other be- lievers, but can only discern their own in the glass of God's Word. At the same time, they become very observant of their own defects, and severe in animadverting on them, but proportionally candid to their brethren ; and thus they learn the hard lesson of esteeming others better than themselves. — (Scott.) To move me for to watch and pray, To strive to be sincere ; To take my cross up day by day, And serve the Lord with fear. Now I saw in my dream, that they went on, and Great-heart went before them : so they went and came to the place where Christian's burden fell off his back, and tumbled into a sepulchre. Here then they made a pause ; and here also they blessed God. Now, said Christiana, it comes to my mind, what was said to us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed ; by word, that is, by the promise ; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know something ; but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was ob- tained, Mr. Great-heart, I suppose you know ; wherefore, if you please, let us hear you discourse thereof. Great-heart. Pardon by the deed done, is par- don obtained by some one, for another A comment up that hath need thereof: not by the person pardoned, but in the way, saith another, in which I have obtained it. So then, to speak to the question more [at] large, the pardon that you and Mercy, and these boys have attained, was obtained by another, to wit, by him that let you in at the gate ; and he hath obtained it in this double way. He has performed righteousness to cover you, and spilt blood to wash you in.5 Christ. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what will he have for himself ? Great-heart. He has more righteousness than you have need of, or thau he needeth himself. Christ. Pray make that appear. Great-heart. With all my heart ; but first I must premise, that he of whom we are now about to speak is one that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of these natures a righteousness belone'eth, and each riffli- what said at the Gate, or a dis- course of our being justified by Clirist. 3 This is always the case when souls are clothed in the robe of Christ's righteousness. They are little, low, and mean in their own eyes, and they esteem each other better than them- selves ; whereas they who at all look to, or depend upon, their own righteousness for their clothing and justification before God, always look down with an air of supercilious contempt upon others who they think are not so righteous as them- selves. Lord, hide self-righteous pride from my heart, and sink me into the depth of humility, that I may ever glory in thee, in whom I am perfectly righteous ! — (Mason.) See also Ro. vi. 1-5, and Gal. iii. 27 — (Ivitney.) 4 The conductor, named Great-heart, is a gospel minister under the direction of the Holy Spirit; courageous, armed with the sword of the Spirit, enjoying the hope of salvation, and defended by the shield of faith. — (Burder.) 6 This is the comfort, joy, and glorying of a pilgrim's heart. Hath Jesus performed righteousness to cover us, and spilled blood to wash us ? Have we the faith of this ? O how ought we to love him, rejoice in him, and study to glorify him in every step of our pilgrimage ! — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 191 teousness is essential to that nature; bo that one may as easily cause the nature to he extinct, as to separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made partakers, so as that they, or any of them, should he put upon us, that we might be made just, and live thereby. Besides these, there is a righteous- ness which this Person has, as these two natures arc joined in one : and this is not the righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the man- hood ; nor the righteousness of the manhood, as distinguished from the Godhead; but a righteous- ness which standeth in the union of both natures, and may properly he called, the righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity of the mediatory office, which he was to be intrusted with. If ho parts with his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead ; if he parts with his second righteousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood; if he parts with this third, he parts with that perfection that capacitates him to the office of mediation. He has, therefore, another righteousness, which standeth in perform- ance, or obedience, to a revealed will ; and that is it that he puts upon sinners, and that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, ' As by one man's disobedience, many were made sin- ners ; so by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous.' 1 Ro. v. 19. Christ. But are the other righteousnesses of uo use to us? Great-heart. Yes ; for though they are essen- tial to his natures and office, and so cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of them, that the righteousness that justifies, is, for that purpose, efficacious. The righteousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience ; the righteousness of his manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify; and the righteousness that standeth in the union of these two natures to his office, giveth authority to that righteousness to do the work for which it is ordained. So then, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has no need of, for he is God without it; here is a righteousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he is perfect man without it ; again, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is per- - Here Bunyan gives a very clear ami distinct account of that righteousness of Christ, as .Mediator, which he wrought out by his perfect obedience to the law of God for all his seed. And by this righteousness, and no other, are they fully justified from all condemnation in the sight of God. Header, study this point deeply, so as to be established in it. It is the essence of the gospel, enters into the life and joy of faith, brings relief to the conscience, and influence to the love of the Lord our Righteousness ; and so brings forth the fruits of righteousness which are by him to the praise and glory of God, and administers Divine consolation in the Lour of death. — (Mason.) i'retly so without it. Here, then, is n righteous- ness that Christ, as God, as man, as God-man, has no lord of, with reference to himself, and therc- fore he can spare it ; a justifying righteousness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he giveth it away ; hence it is called ' the gift of righteousness.' ito. v. 17. This righteousness, since Christ .Jesus the Lord has made himself under the law, must be given away ; for the law doth not only hind him that is under it ' to do justly,' but to use charity. Wherefore he must, he ought, bv the law, if he hath two coats, to give one to him that hath none. Now, our Lord, indeed, hath two coats, one for himself, and one to spare; where- fore he freely bestows one upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana, and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your Lord Christ is he that has worked, and has given away what he wrought for, to the next poor beggar he meets.2 But, again, in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to God as a price, as weh as something prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law ; now, from this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we have done, Ro. iv. 24 ; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Ga. in. 13. Thus has he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed souls with righteous ness. For the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will not hurt you, when he comes to judge the world. Christ. This is brave. Now, I see there was something to be learned by our being Christiana af- pardoned by word and deed. Good JS^J Mercy, let us labour to keep this in redemption. 2 Is there righteousness in Christ ? That is mine, the believer may say. Did he bleed for sins ? It was for mine. Hath he overcome the law, the devil, aud hell? The victory is mine And I do count this a most glorious life. — Some- times (I bless the Lord) my soul hath this life not only imputed to me, but the glory of it upon my spirit. Upon a time, when 1 was under many condemn! ngs of heart, ami fearing 1 should miss glory, methonght 1 felt such a secret motion as this — Thy righteousness is in heaven. The splen- dour and shining of the Spirit of grace upon my bouI, gave I me to see clearly that my righteousness, by which I should be justified, was the Son of God himself representing me before the merry-seat in his own person ; so that 1 saw clearly, that day and night, wherever I was, and whatever I was doing, there was my righteousness, just before the eyes of the Divine glory, and continually at the right hand of God. At another time, whilst musing, being afraid to die, these words came , upon my soul, 'Being justified freely by bis grace, through the redemption which is in Christ.'' This stayed my heart. I And thus is the sinner made alive fri by being justified through the righteousness of Christ, which is unto all 1 and 141011 all them that" believe. — (Banyan's Law and Grace) 192 THE riLGRIM'S PROGRESS. mind ; and my children, do you remember it also. But, Sir, was not this it that made my good Christian's hurden fall from off his shoulder, and that made him give three leaps for joy ? * Great-heart. Yes, it was the belief of this, Howthestrings that cut those strings, that could not that bnund De cut by other means ; and it was to i Christian's bur- . . . •" , . .. . ,.,■ den to him give him a proof of the virtue of tins, woe cut. that he was suffered to carry his bur- den to the cross. Christ. I thought so ; for though my heart was lightful and joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, though I have felt but little as yet, that if the most burdened man in the world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, it would make his heart the more merry and blithe.2 Great-heart. There is not only comfort, and „ _ .. the ease of a burden brought to us, How affectmn • <• i to Christ is be- by the sight and consideration of these, go in esou. -^ an endeared affection begot in us by it; for who can, if he doth but once think that pardon comes not only by promise, but thus, but be affected with the way and means of his re- demption, and so, with the man that hath wrought it for him ? Christ. True; methinks it makes my heart lirst Part hleed to think that he should bleed p. 102. ' for me. 0 thou loving One ! 0 Cause of ad- thou blessed One ! Thou deservest to have me ; thou hast bought me ; thou deservest to have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth ! No marvel that this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished me with him ; but, vile wretch that I was, I let him come all alone. 0 Mercy, that thy father and mother were here; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also; nay, I wish now with all my heart, that here was Madam 1 Sometimes I have been so loatlen with my sins, that I could not tell where to rest, nor what to do ; yea, at such times, I thought it would have taken away my senses ; yet, at that time, God through grace hath all on a sudden so effectu- ally applied the blood that was spilt at Mount Calvary out of the side of Jesus, unto my poor, wounded, guilty conscience, that presently 1 have found such a sweet, solid, sober, heart- comforting peace, that 1 have been in a strait to think that I should love and honour him no more. Sometimes my sins have appeared as big as all the sius of all the men in the nation — (reader, these things be not fancies, for I have smarted for this experience) ; but yet the least stream of the heart- blood of Jesus hath vanished all away, and I have been de- livered up into sweet and heavenly peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. — (Banyan's Lmv and Grace, vol. i. p. 519.) - While the soul lives upon the sweet impressions which are made by the application of the promises, it may be said to live upon frames and feelings ; for as its comforts abate, so will its confidence. The heart can never be established iu grace, till the understanding is enlightened to discern what it is to have pardon by the deed done.' — (J. B.) Wanton too. Surely, surely their hearts would be affected ; nor could the fear of the one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home again, and to refuse to become good pilgrims.3 Great-heart. You speak now in the warmth of vour affections. Will it, think you, be always thus with you ? Besides, this is not communicated to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that stood by, and that saw the blood run from his heart to the ground, and yet were so far off this, that, instead of lamenting, they laughed at him; and, instead of becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So that all that you have, my daughters, you To be a(Tected have by a peculiar impression made with . £h™}' by a Divine contemplating upon what he has done, « 1 have spoken to you. Remember a msspeu' that it was told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her chickens. This you have, therefore, by a special grace.4 Now, I saw still in my dream, that they went on until they were come to the place that Si le and Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption,5 Sloth. and lay and slept in, when Christian went hinged, and by on pilgrimage ; and, behold, they * y' were hanged up in irons a little way off on the other side.6 « Mercy. Then said Mercy to him that was their 3 O brave Christiana ! See what it is to have one's heart inflamed with a sense of the love of Christ. Christiana thinks every one would naturally be affected as she was, if they were present ; but she forgets that which she sees and feels is of special, peculiar, distinguishing grace. — (Mason.) Shall I have my sins and lose my soul ? Would not heaven be better to me than my sins ? — the company of God, Christ, saints, and angels, than the company of Cain, Judas, Balaam, with the devils, in the furnace of fire? Canst thou now that rcadest, or hearest these lines, turn thy back, and go on in thy sins? — (Bunyan's Law and Grace, vol. i. p. 575.) Beader, thus would Christiana plead with ungodly relatives and friends; and if thou art in such a case, wilt thou not listen to such a plea?— (Ed.) 4 Mind how tenderly Great-heart deals with warm-hearted Christiana. He does not attempt to throw cold water upon the fire of her affections, but gently insinuates, 1. The peculiar frame of the mind she speaks from; 2. Suggests that she must not always expect to be in such raptures ; and, 3. Reminds her that her indulgences were of a peculiar nature, not com- mon to all, but bestowed upon the faithful in Christ only ; and that, therefore, amidst all her joyful feelings, she shoidd know to whom she was indebted for them, and give all the glory to the God of all grace. — (Mason.) 6 Simple, contented in gross ignorance ; Sloth, an indolence which smothers all conviction ; Presumption, carnal security which hardens against reproof. — (Andronicus.) These are the great opposers of vital religion. The end of these things is death — (Burder.) 6 It was a custom, to a late period, to hang up mui- derers in irons, until the body dropped to pieces ; that such terrible examples might deter others from the like crimes; hence, under the old" wood-cut illustrating this passage, it written — ' R. hold hern h< w the «Iothfnl are a si;ne, lluug up, 'cau»u nulv ttiiys Ihej did decline.' -(ED.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 193 guide ami conductor, What arc those three men? and for what arc they hanged there ? Great-heart. Those three men were men of very had qualities. They had no mind to he pil- grims themselves, and whosoever they could they hindered. They were for sloth and folly themselves, and whoever they could persuade with, they made so too ; and, withal, taught them to presume that they should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went hy ; and now you go hy, they are hanged.1 Mekcy. But could they persuade any to he of their opinion ? Great-heart. Yes; they turned several out of Their crimes. t"e way- There was Slow-pace that Who they pre- they persuaded to do as they. They tu'iaouVuf'the a's0 prevailed with one Short-wind, "''>• with one No-heart, with one Linger- nfter-lust, and with one Sleepy-head, and with a young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the way, and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading others that he was a taskmaster. They also brought up an evil report of the good land, saying it was not half so good as some pretend it was. They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the very best of them meddlesome, troublesome, busybodies. Further, they could call the bread of God husks ; the comforts of his children, fancies ; the travel and labour of pilgrims, things to no purpose.2 Christ. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall never be bewailed by me. They have but what they deserve ; and I think it is well that they hang so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven on some plate of 1 God, as it were, gibbets some professors, and causes their names and characters to be publicly exhibited, as a terror to others, and as a warning to his own people. — (Mason.) The dreadful falls and awful deaths of some professors are to put others upon their guard against superficial, slothful, and pre- sumptuous hopes. The real occasion of turning aside lies in the concealed lusts of the heart. — (Scott.) 2 Let us consider the characters of these three professors : 1. Here is a Simple, a foolish credulous professor, ever learn- ing, but never coming to the knowledge of the truth, so as to believe it, love it, and be established on it j hence liable to be carried away by every wind of doctrine. 2. Sloth, a quiet, easy professor, who never disturbs any one by his diligence in the Word of God, nor his zeal for the truths and glory of God. 3. Presumption, one who expects salvation in the end, without the means prescribed by God for attaining it. () beware of these three sorts of professors, for they turn many aside ! — (Mason.) 3 What is meant by the Hill Difficulty? Christiana has set out from Destruction, been received and encouraged at the wicket-gate, and directed on her journey. The path is com- paratively easy, until she is about to put on a public profes- sion, by joining a church. This is situated upon the summit of this hill of difficult ascent. Is it intended to represent that prayerful, watchful, personal investigation into Divine truth, which ought to precede church-fellowship ? Nothing is more VOL. III. iron or brass, and left here, even whore they did their mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men ? Great-heart. So it is, as you well may perceive, if you will go a little to the wall. Mercy. No, no ; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live for ever against them. I think it a high favour that they were hanged before we came hither; who knows else what they might have done to such poor women as we are i Then she turned it into a song, saying — Now then, you three, hang there, and be a sign To all that shall against the truth combine. And let him that comes after fear this end, If uuto pilgrims he is not a friend. And thou, my soul, of all such men beware, That unto holiness opposcrs are. Thus they went on, till they came at the foot of the Hill Difficulty,3 where, again, lirsti'art their good friend, Mr. Great-heart, p- RH. took an occasion to tell them of what it h difficult happened there when Christian him- SoctriMiner. self went by. So he had them first roueoua tum* to the spring. Lo, said he, this is the spring that Christian drank of, before he went up this hill; and then it was clear and good, but now it is dirty with the feet of some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst. Eze. xxiiv. is. Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow ? But, said their guide, it will do, if taken up, and put into a vessel that is sweet and good ; for then the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water come out by itself more clear.4 Thus, therefore, Christiana and her companions were compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof.0 difficult to flesh and blood than to be compelled, upon pain of endless ruin, to think for ourselves on matters of religion. The formalist and hypocrite follow the persuasions of man, and take an easier path, and are lost. The fear of man cause* some to abandon the ascent. Dr. Cheever has, in his Hill Difficulty, very happily described the energy that is needful to enable the pilgrim to make the asceut. He forcibly proves the utter impossibility of making the asceut by ceremonial observances, or while encumbered with worldly cares or pride in trinkets of gold and costly array. He reminds us of the solemn advice of Peter, " be ye built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifice acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." Every weight must be set aside, and salva- tion must be worked out with fear and trembling. — (Ed.) 4 The river of life is pure and clear as crystal. Is the doctrine offered to thee so ? Or is it muddy, and mixed with the doctrines of men ? Look, man, and see, if the foot of the worshippers of Paal be not there, aud the water fouled thereby. What water is fouled is not the water of life, or at least not in its clearness. "Wherefore, if thou tiudcst it not right, o uj higher towards the spring-head, for nearer the spring the more pure and clear is the wafer.— (Bunyan's Water of Life.) 6 This represents to us that some preachers, as the prophet savs, foul the water with their feet, Eze. xi.\iv. IS; that is, though they preach somewhat about Christ, and salvation by him, yet they so clog, mire, and pollute the stream of free grace' with pre-requisites, terms, and conditions, that the poor 25 194 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Next, he showed them the two by-ways that By-paths Were at tue ^00t °^ the ^» w^ere tiiough barred Formality and Hypocrisy lost them- up, will not , J. , ,V, / , keep all from selves. And, said he, these are dan- going in thenu ger()ug pathg< TwQ were here cagt away when Christian came by. And although, as you see, these ways are since stopped up with chains, posts, and a ditch, yet there are that will choose to adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this hill.1 Christ. ' The way of transgressors is hard.' Pr. xiiL 15. It is a wonder that they can get into those ways without danger of breaking their necks. Great-heart. They will venture. Yea, if at any time any of the King's servants do happen to see them, and do call unto them, and tell them that they are in the wrong ways, and do bid them beware the danger, then they will railingly return them answer, and say, ' As for the word that thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the Lord, we will not hearken unto thee ; but we will certainly do what- soever thing goeth forth out of our own mouth,' &c. Je. xiiv. 16, 17. Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see that these ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and chain ; but also by being hedged up, yet they will choose to go there.2 Christ. They are idle ; they love not to take l he reason why pains ; uphill Avay is unpleasant to tcTgo °iii10by- them. So it is fulfilled unto them as wa>s- it is written, ' The way of the slothful man is as an hedge of thorns.' Pr. xv. 19. Yea, they will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill, and the rest of this way to the city. Then they set forward, and began to go up the The hill put3 kill, and up the hill they went; but the Pilgrims to before they got to the top, Christiana began to pant ; and said, I dare say, thirsty soul cannot drink the water, nor allay his thirst with it ; but is forced to let it stand, till these gross dregs sink to the bottom. Yea, we ought to beware of drinking such filthy dregs ; for they will certainly swell us up with the tympany of pride of our free will, human merit, and self-righteousness, which oppose the glory of Jesus, and comfort of our souls. — (Mason.) 1 Although the cautions of Holy Writ are plain as posts and chains, and the warnings as a ditch, and the solemn threatenings of the New Testament against pharisaic formalism and hypocrisy are like a hedge, to prevent pilgrims wandering into paths that end in eternal misery, yet tiiere are many who break through all these merciful restraints, and rush upon destruction. — (Ed.) 2 Examine, which do you like best, self-soothing or soul- searching doctrine? Formalists and hypocrites love the former, and hate the latter, liut the sincere and upright are discovered by desiring to have their hearts searched to the quick, and their ways tried to the utmost; and, therefore, with David will cry, ' Search me, O God, and know my heart ; try me, and know my thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' Ps. exxxix. 23, 24.— (Mason.) this is a breathing hill. No marvel if they that love their ease more than their souls, choose to themselves a smoother way.3 Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; also the least of the children began to cry. Come, come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince's arbour. Then took he the little boy by the hand, and led him up thereto. ■ When they were come to the arbour, they were very willing to sit down, for they were nej sit ta tLe all in a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, arbour. How sweet is rest to them that labour.4 ph-st Part, Mat. xi. 28. And how good is the Prince p' of pilgrims, to provide such resting-places for them ! Of this arbour I have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here let us beware of sleeping; for, as I have heard, for that it cost poor Christian dear. Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my pretty boys, how do you do ? The utile boy's What think you now of going on pil- JSW^S grimage ? Sir, said the least, I was t0 Mercy, almost beat out of heart ? but I thank you for lending me a hand at my need.5 And I remember now what my mother hath told me, namely, that the way to heaven is as up a ladder, and the way to hell is as down a hill. But I had rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death.6 Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, To go down the hill is easy. But James ^^ fa hard. said (for that was his name), The est, up hill or , . . , . . . down hill. day is coming, when, in my opinion, going down hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said his Master, thou hast given her a 8 Heart- work is hard work ; it is hard work to be stripped ; it is hard work to deny self, take up your cross, and follow Jesus. It is hard work to light the fight of faith ; it is hard work against hope to believe in hope. A formalist and hypo- crite will go, in outward things, as far as the real Christian ; but touch him on the inward work, and he will start aside. — (J.B.) * He who is a stranger to the hard work of self-denial, and how difficult it is to the flesh, knows not what this Hill Diffi- culty means ; for the nearer to the arbour of Jesus' rest, the more difficulties in the way, but the sweeter it is when attained. — (Mason.) 6 Regard not in thy pilgrimage how difficult the passage is, but whither it tends ; not how delicate the journey is, but where it ends. If it be easy, suspect it ; if hard, endure it. He that cannot excuse a bad way, accuseth his own sloth ; and he that sticks in a bad passage, can never attain a good journey's end. — (Quarks' Enchiridion, cent. 3, ch. xxx.) 6 There were stairs in the temple, and but one pair, and these winding. He that went up must turn with the stairs. This is a type of a twofold repentance ; that by which we turu from nature to grace, and that by which we turn from the imperfections of a state of grace to glory. But this turning and turning still, displeases some much. They say it makes them giddy ; but I say, Nothing like this to make a man steady. A straight stair is like the ladder that leads to the gallows. They are turning stairs that lead to the heavenly mansion. Stay not at their foot ; but go up them, and up them, and up them, till you come to heaven. — (bunyan's Solomons Temple.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 195 right answer. Then Mercy smiled ; but the little boy did blush.1 Christ. Come, said Christiana, will you cat a They refresh bit, a little to sweeten your mouths, themselves. whjle y0U s|t here to rest your legs ? For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which Mr. Interpreter put in my hand, just when I came out of his doors. He gave me also a piece of a honeycomb, and a little bottle of spirits. I thought he gave you something, said Mercy, because he called you aside. Yes ; so he did, said the other. But, said Christiana, it shall still be, as I said it Bhould, when at first we came from home, thou shalt be a sharer in all the good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my com- panion. Then she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the boys. And, said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, Sir, will you do But he answered, You are going on pilgrimage, and pre- sently I shall return. Much good may what you have do to you. At home I eat the same every day. Now, when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their guide said to them. The day wears away, if you think good, let us pre- pare to be going. So they got up to go, and the Christiana for- little boys went before. But Christiana gets her botue forgot to take her bottle of spirits with her ; so she sent her little boy back to fetch it. Then said Mercy, I think this is a losing place. Here Christian lost his roll; and here Christiana left her bottle behind her. Sir, what is the cause of this ? So their guide made answer, and said, The cause is sleep or forgetful- nes3. Some sleep when they should keep awake; and some forget when they should remember; and this is the very cause why, often at the resting- places, some pilgrims, in some things, come otf losers. Piljrrims should watch, and Mark this. , ° , , . . remember what they have already re- ceived under their greatest enjoyments; but for want of doing so, ofttimes their rejoicing ends in tears, First Part, and their sunshine in a cloud.2 Witness pp. 105, 1U6. t]ie story 0f Christian at this place.3 1 When we are praised, a conscious blush should pervade us, well knowing how much we have to be ashamed of. But some have got such vain confidence in their own righteousness, merits, and perfection, that they have hereby got what the Scriptures call a whore's forehead, and refuse to be ashamed. Je. iii. 3. O cry to the Lord continually against spiritual pride, and for an humble heart, knowing thyself to be a poor sinner! — (Mason.) - live looking first into those worthy privileges which God had given her, and dilating delightfully of them before the devil, she lost the dread of the command from oil" her heart, which Satan perceiving, now added to his former forged doubt a plain and flat denial — ' Ye shall not surely die.' When people dally with the devil, and sit too near their outward advan- tases, thev fall into temptation. — (Bun van on Genesis, vol. ii. p.^429.) 3 Reader, mind this well, remember it often, and it wiL' do thee good. I aui a witness against myself, of how much I WThcn they were come to the place where Mis- trust and Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it wcic a stage, and before it, towards the road, a broad plate, with a copy of verses written thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that stage in that place, rendered. The verses were these : — Let him who sees this stage take heed Unto his heart and tongue ; Lest if he do not, here he speed, As some have long agoue. The words underneath the verses were, * This stage was built to punish such upon, who through Timorousness or Mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pilgrimage ; also, on this stage, both Mistrust and Timorous were burned through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to hinder Christian in his journey.'* Then said Mercy, This is much like to the say- ing of the Beloved, ' What shall be given unto thee ? or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue? Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper.' rs. cxx. 3— i. So they went on, till they came within sight of the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was v. . „ . lirst Part a strong man, so he was not afraid of p- loo. a lion ; but yet when they were come An emblem of up to the place where the lions were, f™ {^eiyl the boys that went before were glad whe,n thcreu "' .,,.,,. ? . "O danger, hut to cringe behind, for they were afraid shrink when of the lions; so they stepped back, and went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said, How now, my boys, do you love to go before, when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear? Now, as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, with intent to make a way for the Pil- grims, in spite of the lions. Then there appeared one, that it seems, had taken upon of Grim the him to back the lions ; and he said to KddSjtto the Pilgrims' guide, What is the cause Bona- of your coming hither ? Now the name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of Pilgrims, and he was of the race of the giants.0 have lost by indulging the flesh, and how much I have suffered by forgetfulness. But O what a gracious Lord do we serve I this is no excuse for our folly, but an aggravation of our faults ; and ought to sink us lower in shame, and to excite us to greater care, diligence, and watchfulness j else we shall surely smart for our folly, if not in hell, yet in our consciences. — (Mason.) 4 This may refer to the awful end of one of Bunyan's early friends, who became a notorious apostate — one John Child, whose sufferings were published with those of Spira. Child was so afraid of persecution, as to give up his profession ; and then, overwhelmed by despair, be committed suicide. Or to such an one as the professor, in the Marian days, who recanted to save burning, but who was burnt to death by his house catching tire. — (Ivimey.) 6 It is not very easy to determine the precipe idea of th • 196 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Great-heart. Then said the Pilgrims' guide, These women and children are going on pilgrim- age ; and this is the way they must go, and go it they shall, in spite of thee and the lions.1 Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will hack the lions.2 Now, to say truth, hy reason of the fierceness of the lions,, and of the grim carriage of him that did hack them, this way had of late Iain much unoccupied, and was almost all grown over with grass. Ciirist. Then said Christiana, Though the high- ways have been unoccupied heretofore, and though the travellers have been made in time past to walk through by-paths, it must not be so now 1 am risen. Now ' I am risen a mother in Israel. ' Ju. t. 6, 7. Grim. Then he swore by the lions, but it should; and therefore bid them turn aside, for they should not have passage there. Great-heart. But their guide made first his approach unto Grim, and laid so heavily at him with his sword, that he forced him to a retreat.3 author in each of the giants who assault the Pilgrims, and are slain by the conductor and his assistants. Some have sup- posed that unbelief is here meant, but Grim or Bloody-man seem not to be apposite names for this inward foe ; nor can it be conceived, that unbelief should more violently assault those who are under the care of a valiant conductor, than it had done the solitary pilgrims. I apprehend, therefore, that this giant was intended for the emblem of certain active men who busied themselves in framing and eiecuting persecuting statutes, which was done at the time when this was written, more violently than it had been before. Thus the temptation to fear man, which at all times assaults the believer when required to make an open profession of his faith, was exceed- ingly increased ; and as heavy fines and severe penalties, in accession to reproach and contempt, deterred men from joining themselves in communion with dissenting churches, that way was almost unoccupied, and the travellers went through by- paths, according to the author's sentiments on the subject. But the preaching of the gospel, by which the ministers of Christ wielded the sword of the Spirit, overcame this enemy ; for the example and exhortations of such courageous com- batants animated even weak believers to overcome their fears, and to act according to their consciences, leaving the event to God. This seems to have been the author's meaning ; and perhaps he also intended to encourage his brethren boldly to persevere in resisting such persecuting statutes, confidently expecting that they should prevail for the repeal of them ; by which, as by the death of the giant, the pilgrims might be freed from additional terror, in acting consistently with then- avowed principles. — (Scott.) 1 This reminds us of the words of Mr. Godly-fear to Dia- bolus, when Captain Credence sent a petition to Immanuel for mercy : — ' We are resolved to resist thee as long as a captain, a man, a sling, or a stone shall be found in Mansoul to throw at thee. Then said the Lord Mayor to Diabolus, O thou devouring tyrant, be it known to thee, we shall hearken to none of thy words !' — (Bunyan'e Holy War.) Happy are the Godly-fears and Great-hearts who use such decided language to the enemy of souls.- — (Ed.) 2 Sincere and earnest Christians, at this time, had a pro- verbial expression : — ' It is better that the body should die to this world by the lions without, than that body and 60ul should die eternally by our lusts within.' — (Ed.) 8 0 pilgrims, when dangers beset you, and fears arise in Grim. Then said he that attempted to back tho lions, Will you slay me upon mine own ground ? Great-heart. It is the King's highway that we are in, and in his way it is that thou , A . . . ' ,,,.,, A fisht betwixt hast placed thy lions; but these women Grim andGreat- and these children, though weak, shall eart' hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And with that he gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this blow he also broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the women, and yet they were glad to see him lie sprawling Y i tit i ,• The Victory. upon the ground. Now the lions were chained, and so of themselves could do nothing.4 Wherefore, when old Grim, that intended to back them, was dead, Mr. Great-heart said to the Pil- grims, Come now, and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the lions. They there- fore went on, but the women trembled They pass by as they passed by them ; the boys *o lions, also looked as if they would die, but they all got by without further hurt.5 Now then they were within sight of the Porter's Lodge, and they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it is dangerous travelling there in the night. So when they were come to the gate, the guide knocked, and the Porter cried, _, Who is there? But as soon as the the Porter's guide had said, It is I, he knew his ° ge' voice, and came down (for the guide had oft you, hear what the Lord speaks to yon ; and in the belief of his truth, quit yourselves manfully : ' Fight the good fight of faith,' ever remembering that ' you are more than conquerors through Christ who hath loved you 1' Faith will exalt the love and power of Christ above the fear of every enemy.— (Mason.) * O pilgrim, it is sweet to reflect that every lion-like foe is under the control of thy God, and cannot come one link of the chain nearer to thee than thy Lord will permit ! There- fore, when fears and terrors beset thee, think of thy Lord's love to thee, his power engages to preserve thee, and his pro- mises to comfort thee. For ' the Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him.' Ps. cxlv. 18. — (Mason.) 5 From the deeply interesting narrative of the experience of Mr. Fearing, it is plain that the lions and their backer, Giant Grim or Bloody-man, relates entirely to temporal troubles ; most likely to those infamous penal statutes under which Dissenters so severely suffered. The uniting in church- fellowship was not only attended with the ordinary difficulties, but with danger from the lions — church and state ; especially when backed by ferocious judges, such as Jefferies aud others. Spiritual enemies — sin, death, and hell — were the only terrors under which Mr. Fearing suffered; temporal persecutions — ' difficulties, lions, or Vanity Fair — he feared not at all.' The battle probably refers to the flimsy sophistry used in defence of persecution, as opposed to the Word of God, the sword of the Spirit, by which our Puritan heroes destroyed these anti- christian arguments. — (Ed.) Now that the lions are removed, may we not fear that hypocrites will thrust themselves into our chm-ches ? It is easy, cheap, and almost fashionable, to be religious: this should promote solemn investigation. — (Andronicus.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 197 before that, come thither, as a conductor of pil- grims). When he was come down, lie opened the gate, and seeing the guide standing just before it (for he saw not the women, for they were behind him), he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great-heart, ■what is your business here so late to-night? I have brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord's commandment, they must lodge ; I had been hero some time ago, had I not been opposed by the giant that did use to back the lions; but I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have cut him oft', and have brought tho Pilgrims hither in safety.1 Porter. Will you not go in, and stay till Great-heart at- tempts to go lack. Great-heart. No, I will return to y Lord to-night. Christ. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing ^ „., . you should leave us in our pilgrimage, The Pilgrims J o . , ,. , , i implore ins you have been so faithful and so lov- compauy s i . j^ ^o ug^ ^.ou have fought so stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that I shall never forget your favour to- wards us. Mercy. Then said Mercy, 0 that we might have thy company to our journey's end ! How can such poor women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, without a friend and defender? James. Then said James, the youngest of the boys, Pray, Sir, be persuaded to go with us, and help us, because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is.2 Great-heart. I am at my Lord's command- ment ; if he shall allot me to be your guide quite through, I will willingly wait upon you. But here n. , . , you failed at first ; for, when he bid Help lost for J » . , , wautofagUig me come thus far with you, then you should have begged me of him to have gone quite through with you, and he would have granted your request. However, at present, I must withdraw; and so, good Christiana, Mercy, and my brave children, Adieu. Then the Porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Chris- Eirst Part, tiana of her country, and of her kin- p. loc. (jretj . anj sue sa;j^ i came from the 1 How mindful is our Lord of us 1 How gracious is he to us ! 'What blessed provision doth he make for us ! If pil- prims are attacked by Giant Grim, and terrified with the sight of lions, they may be sure that it is only a prelude to some sweet enjoyment of their Lord's love, and that they are near to some asylum, some sanctuary of rest, peace, and com- fort. Some bitter generally precedes the sweet, and makes the sweet the sweeter. — (Mason.) 2 0 it is hard work to part with Great-heart I How many blessings do we lose for want of asking 1 Great-heart is at the command of our Lord. 0 for more power to cry inces- santly to the Lord for the presence of Great-heart, that we may go on more cheerfully and more joyfully in the ways of the Lord ! — iMason.) City of Destruction; I am a widow woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was christian:,,,,;*.-. Christian, tho Pilgrim. How! said lu'rs>"' known ' ° . to the Porterj< the Porter, was ho your husband { he tellt it to a Yes, saul she, and these are his chil- dren; and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my townswomen. Then the Porter rang his bell, as at such times he is wont, and there came to the door one of the damsels, whose name was Humble- mind ; and to her the Porter said, Go tell it within, that Christiana, the wife of Christian, and her children, are come hither on pilgrim- , ttteIl(rirtl age. She weut in, therefore, and told of the Pilgrims it. But 0 what noise for gladness was there within, when the damsel did but drop that word out of her mouth ! So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christiana stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, Come in, Christiana,' come in, thou wife of that good man; come in, thou blessed woman ; come in, with all that are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her that were her children and her companions. Now when they were gone in, they were had into a very large room, where they were bidden to sit down ; so they sat down, and the chief of the house was called to see and welcome the guests. Then they came in, and understanding who they Christians' love were, did salute each other with a J]ie gignt I) kiss, and said, Welcome, ye vessels of one mll,et' the grace of God ; welcome to us your friends.3 Now, because it was somewhat late, and be- cause the Pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also made faint with the sight of the fight, and of the terrible lions, therefore they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest. Nay, said those of the family, refresh yourselves first with a morsel of meat ; for they had prepared for them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce belong- ing thereto,4 Ex. xii. 21, 28. Jn. i. 29; for the Porter had heard before of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, if we may be so bold as to choose, be in iirst part> that chamber that was my husband's P- lu'J- 3 Here is a blessed mark of being vessels of the grace of God, when we delight in the sight of, salute, and welcome others in the way to^Zion, and mutually have our hearts aud affections drawn out to each other in love. O how sweet is the fellowship of pilgrims below 1 "What must it be above ? Infinitely above conception. — (.Mason.) 4 Reader, can you feed upon Christ by faith? Is the Lamb the nourishment of thy soul, and the portion of thy la n .J Canst thou say, from blessed experience, ' His flesh is meat indeed, aud his blood is drink indeed ?' Is it thy delight to think of him, hear of him, speak of him, abide in him, and live upon him ? O bless him and praise hirn for his distin- guishing mercy, this spiritual appetite 1 It is peculiar to his beloved ones only.— (Mason.) 193 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. when he was here ; so they had them up thither, and they lay all in a room. When they were at „, . ,, . rest, Christiana and Mercv entered Christ's bosom ' is for all pil- into discourse about things that were convenient. Cijrist. Little did I think once, that when my husband went on pilgrimage, I should ever have followed. Mercy. And you as little thought of lying in his bed, and in his chamber to rest, as you do now. Christ. And much less did I ever think of see- ing his face with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with him ; and yet now I believe I shall. Mercy. Hark ! Don't you hear a noise ? Christ. Yes ; it is, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy that we are here.2 Mercy. Wonderful ! music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we are here ! 3 Thus they talked a while, and then betook them- selves to sleep. So, in the morning, when they were awake, Christiana said to Mercy : Christ. What was the matter that you did Mercydidiaugh laugh in your sleep to-night ? I sup- in ller sleep. p0se vou was \a a dream. Mercy. So I was, and a sweet dream it was ; but are you sure I laughed ? Christ. Yes ; you laughed heartily; but, prithee, Mercy, tell me thy dream. Mercy. I was a-dreamed that I sat all alone in a solitary place, and was bemoaning of y" am" the hardness of my heart. Now, 1 had not sat there long, but methought many were gathered about me, to see me, and to hear what it was that I said. So they hearkened, and 1 went on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them laughed at me, some called me fool, and some began to thrust me about. With that, wiiather methought I looked up, and saw one drain was. coming with wings towards me. So he came directly to me, and said, Mercy, what aiieth thee ? Now, when he had heard me make 1 Pray mind the above note, 'Christ's bosom is for all pilgrims.' [This is the room in which they all lay, and its name is Peace. — Ed.] It is there the weary find rest, and the burdened soul ease. O l'or more redlinings of soul upon the precious bosom of our Lord ! We can be truly happy no- where else. — (Mason.) • Immanuel also made a feast for them. lie feasted them with food that grew uot in the fields of Mansoul, nor in the whole kingdom of the Universe. It came from the Father's court. There was music also all the while at the table, and man did eat angels' food. I must not forget to tell you, that the musicians were the masters of the songs sung at the court of Shaddai. — (Buuyan's Holy 11'ar) 3 0 what precious harmony is this 1 How joyful to be the subjects of it, and to join in it 1 The free, sovereign grace of God is the delightful theme, and glory to God in the highest the universal chorus. It is the wonder and joy of sinners on earth, and of angels in heaven. — (Mason.) my complaint, he said ' Peace be to thee.' He also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He put a chain about my neck, and ear-rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head. Eze. xvi. B-ll. Then he took me by the hand, and said, Mercy, come after me. So he went up, and I followed, till we came at a golden gate. Then he knocked ; and when they within had opened, the man went in, and I followed him up to a throne, upon which one sat, and he said to me, Welcome, daughter. The place looked bright and twinkling, like the stars, or rather like the sun ; and I thought that I saw your husband there. So I awoke from my dream.4 But did I laugh ? Christ. Laugh ! aye, and well you might, to see yourself so well. For you must give me leave to tell you, that I believe it was a good dream ; and that, as you have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at last. ' God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed.'0 Job xxiiu. 14, is. We need not, when abed, lie awake to talk with God. He can visit us while we sleep, and cause us then to hear his voice. Our heart ofttimes wakes when we sleep ; and God can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by signs and simili- tudes, as well as if one was awake.6 Mercy. Well, I am glad of my dream ; for I hope, ere long, to see it fulfilled, to Mercy siaci 0t the making me laugh again.7 her dreaw- Christ. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must do. Mercy. Pray, if they invite us to stay awhile, let us willingly accept of the proffer. 1 am the 4 Our author intimates that God sometimes communicates spiritual knowledge and heavenly joy by ' dreams and visions of the night.' The Holy One ' worketh all thiugs after the counsel of his own will,' and employs what means he pleases to bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. The effect produced by dreams must be brought to this test. It is a good maxim, that what leads to God, must have come from God. — (Ivimey.) 5 If Mercy was sweetly surprised with this dream, we are sure that nothing but the surprise of mercy can overcome the hardened sinner's heart, who, expecting the stroke of justice, instead of the executioner with a death-warrant, finds a mes- senger of peace, with a pardon free and full, revealing the grace, mercy, and love of God, through the redemption which there is in the love of God. — (J. B.) 6 O how blessed are they who are watching and waiting continually to hear the small, still voice of the Spirit, speaking rest and peace to their souls by the blood of the Lamb! O how condescending is our Lord, thus to visit us, and converse with us in the way to his kingdom ! — (Mason.) And how blessed is church fellowship when the members are governed by these heavenly principles, watchfulness, humility of mind, prudence, piety, and charity. — (Ed.) 7 The assurance that the dream should be accomplished, is grounded on the effects produced upon Mercy's heart; there is no danger of delusion, when so scriptural an encouragement is inferred eveu from a dream. — (Scoii.j THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 109 willingcr to stay awhile licrc, to crow better ac- quainted with these mauls. Methinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober countenances.1 Christ. Wo shall seo what they will do. So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another of their rest, and if it was comfortahle, or not. Mercy. Very good, said Mercy ; it was one of the best eight's lodging that ever I had in my life. Then said Prudence and Tiety, If you will he Tiiey stay here persuaded to stay here awhile, you same nine. si,aii nave wnat tjie ]K)USC w;n afford. Citar. Aye, and that with a very good will, said Charity. So they consented and staid there about a month, or above, and became very profitable one Prudence de- to another. And because Prudence c-hfse Christil would see how Christiana had brought aua-achiuren. up iier children, she asked leave of her to catechise them. So she gave her free con- sent.2 Then she began at the youngest, whose name was James. james Prudence. And she said, Come, James, catechised. cangt thou jgJJ me W]1Q maJe thee ? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell me who saves thee ? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father save thee ? James. By his grace. Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? James. By his righteousness, death, and blood, and life. Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? James. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his preservation.'3 Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be commended for thus bringing up your children. I suppose I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them can answer them so 1 Can we wonder that the pilgrims longed to spend some time with such lovely companions? Reader, how is your in- clination? Add to these 'Simplicity, Innocence, and Godly-sin- cerity; without which three graces thou wilt be a hypocrite, let thy notions, thy knowledge, thy profession, and commen- dations from others, be what they will.' — (Holy Life, vol. ii. p. 530.) Christian, in choosing thy companions, specially cleave to these six virgins, fur they no1 onlj have very comely and sober countenances, hut Christ dwells with them. — (Ed.) 2 When Christiana was admitted into the church, care was taken trt inquire into the religions knowledge of her children. This is an important branch of ministerial and parental duty. The answers given by the children do their mother honour, and prove that she had not laboured in vain. Let every pious parent imitate her example, and hope for her success. — (binder.) well. I will therefore now apply myself to the next youngest. PRUD. Then she said, Come, Joseph (for his name was Joseph), will you let me JoBeph catechise you ? catechised. Joseph. With all my heart. PttUD. What is man ? JosEPn. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as my brother said. Prud. What is supposed by this word ' saved ? ' Joseph. That man, by sin, has brought himself into a state of captivity and misery. Prud. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity ? Joseph. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant, that none can pull us out of its clutches, but God ; and that God is so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this miserable state. Prud. What is God's design in saving of poor men ? Joseph. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and justice, Come) Matthew, shall I also catechise you? Matthew. With a very good will. Prud. I ask, then, if there was ever anything that had a being antecedent to, or before God ? Matt. No ; for God is eternal ; nor is there any- thing excepting himself, that had a being until the beginning of the first day. ' For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is.' Prud. What do you think of the Bible ? Matt. It is the holy Word of God. Prud. Is there nothing written therein but what you understand ? Matt. Yes. A great deal. Prud. What do you do when you meet with such places therein that you do not understand ? Matt. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be for my good.1 Prud. How believe you, as touching the resur- rection of the dead ? Matt. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried; the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe this upon a double account: First, because God has promised it; secondly, because he is able to perform it.2 Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still Prudence's con- hearken to your mother, for she can thet'ateciiism^ learn you more. You must also dili- of the boys, gently give ear to what good talk you shall hear from others ; for, for your sakes do they speak good things. Observe, also, and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth do teach you ; but especially be much in the medita- tion of that Book that was the cause of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, for my part, my children, will teach you what I can while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me ques- tions that tend to godly edifying. Now, by that these Pilgrims had been at this Mercy has a place a week, Mercy had a visitor that sweetheart. pretended some goodwill unto her, and 1 Though this is answered with the simplicity of a child ; yet it is, and ever will be, the language of every father in Christ. Happy those whose spirits are cast into this luunble, evangelical mould! O that this Spirit may accompany us iu all our researches, in all our ways, and through all our days! — I (Mason.) Our inability to discover the meaning of these passages should teach us humility, and submission to the decisions of our infallible instructor. — (Scott.) - Here is the foundation of faith, and the triumph of hope, God's faithfulness to his promise, and his power to perform. Having these to look to, what should stagger our faith, or deject our hope? "We may, we ought to smile at all carunl objections, and trample upon all corrupt reasonings. — (Mason.) his name was Mr. Brisk, a man of some breed- ing, and that pretended to religion ; but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. Her mind also was, to be always busyino- of herself in doing; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would be making of hose and garments for others, and would bestow them upon them that had need.3 And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth he to himself.4 Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired Mercy inquires of them concerning him, for they did l^mngMr! know him better than she.5 So they Brisk- told her, that he was a very busy young man, and one that pretended to religion ; but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which was good. Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him ; for I purpose never to have a clog to my soul.6 Prudence then replied that there needed no great matter of discouragement to be given to him, her continuing so as she had begun to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage. So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old work, a-making of things for the _ ,, .... mi -ii „,, • l Talk betwixt poor. Then said he, What! always Mercy and Mr. at it ? Yes, said she, either for my- self or for others. And what canst thou earn a day ? quoth he. I do these things, said she, ' that I may be rich in good works, lading up in 3 This is an important lesson to young females, how they may profitably employ their time, adorn the gospel, and be useful. It is much better to imitate Dorcas, in making garments for the poor, than to waste time and money iu frivolous amusements, or needless decorations; or iu more elegant and fashionable accomplishments. — (Scott.) 4 The character of M r. Brisk is portrayed to the life m Buuyan's Emblems — ■ Candles that do blink within the socket, And saints whose eyes are always in their pocket, Are much alike: such candles make us tumble; And at such saints, good men and bad do stumble.' 6 The character of Mercy is lovely throughout the pilgrim- age; but in the important choice of a partner for life, she manifests great prudence and shrewdness; she asks the advice of those who knew Mr. Brisk, and whose names proved how capable they were to give it. And she acted upon their know- ledge of his character. And when she discovered the utter selfishness of bis disposition, she thankfully bid him, Good bye, sweet heart ; and parts for life. — (Ed.) 6 Most blessed resolution ! Ah, pilgrims, if ye were more wary, lest, by your choice and conduct, ye brought clogs to your souls, how many troubles would ye escape, and how much more happy would you be in your pilgrimage! It is for want of this wisdom and conduct, that many bring evil upon themselves. — Mason. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 201 ftore a good foundation against the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal life.' 1 Ti. vi. 17—10. Why, prithee, what dost thou with them? said he. Clothe the naked, said she. With that his coun- He forsakes her, tenance fell. So he forhoro to come and why. at jjer again. an,l when he was asked the reason why, he said, that Mercy was a pretty lass, hut troubled with ill conditions.1 When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon >tuv: of mercy forsake thee '( yea, he will raise up an Mm'"1 in" ale ill report of thee ; for, notwithstand- ing of Mercy fog his pretence to religion, and his seeming love to Mercy, yet Mercy and he are of tempers so different, that 1 believe they will never come together. Mekcy. I might have had husbands afore now, though I spake not of it to any ; but they were such as did not like my conditions, though never did any of them find fault with my person. So they and I could not agree. Prdd. Mercy in our days is little set by, any further than as to its name ; the practice, which is set forth by thy conditions, there are but few that can abide. Mercy. Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have Mercy's nie. I will die a maid, or my conditions resolution. shall he to me as a husband. For I cannot change my nature ; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as long as I live. I had a sister named riow Mercy's Bountiful, that was married to one of served by her these churls ; but he and she could husband. never agree; but because my sister was resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors.2 Prud. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you. Mercy. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he, the world is now full ; but I am for none of them all. Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell Matthew Bick, and his sickness was sore upon falls Mt-k. him, for he was much pained in his 1 How easily are the best of characters traduced, and false constructions put upon the best of actions! Reader, is this your lot also? Mind your duty. Look to your Lord. Per- severe in his works and ways; and leave your character with him, to whom you can trust your soul. ' For if God be for ns, who shall be against us? what shall harm us, if we be followers of that which is good ?'— (Mason.) 2 Crying at the cross, and turning a wife out of doors, refers to a vulgar error, which had its influence to a late period in Bedfordshire. It was a speedy mode of divorce, similar to that practised in London, by lending a wife by a halter to Smithfield, and selling her. '1 lie crying at the market cross that a man would not be answerable for the debts that might be incurred by his wife, was the mode of advertising, which was supposed to absolve a husband from maintaining his wife; a notion now fully exploded. — (Ed.) VOL. III. bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled as it were both ends together.3 There dwelt also not far from thence, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and well approved physician. So Christiana desired it, and they sent for him, and he came. When he was entered the room, and had a little orfpei of con- observed the boy, he concluded that science, he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his mother, What diet has Matthew of late fed upon? Diet, said Christiana, nothing but that which is wholesome. The physician answered, This boy has been tampering with something The physician's that lies in his maw undigested, and lodgment that will not away without means. And I tell you, he must be purged, or else he will die. Sam. Then said Samuel, Mother, mother, what was that which my brother did gather Samuel puts his up and eat, so soon as we were come "["'],' ' . ', from the gate that is at the head of brotherdideat this way ? You know that there was an orchard on the left hand, on the other side of the wall, and some of the trees hung over the wall, and my brother did plash and did eat. Ciiiust. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof, and did eat; naughty boy as he was, I did chide him, and yet he would eat thereof.4 Skill. I knew he had eaten something that was not wholesome food; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is tho fruit of Beelzebub's orchard. I do marvel that none did warn you of it ; many have died thereof. Ciluist. Then Christiana began to cry ; and she said, 0 naughty boy ! and 0 careless mother ! What shall 1 do for my son ! 5 Skill. Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may do well again, but he must purge and vomit. 3 See the effects of sin. It will pinch and gTipe the con- science, and make the heart of a gracious soul sick. — (Mason.) Matthew, in being admitted a member of the church, repre- sented by the house Beautiful and its happy family, had to relate his experience, and this brought to his recollection plashing the trees, and eating the enemy's fruit, of which his brother also reminds them. — (Ed.) 4 How often do we suffer by neglecting the cautions of a pious parent or friend. ' In time of temptation it is our duty to keep close to the word, then we have Satan at the end of the staff. When Eve was tempted, she went to the outside of ! her liberty, and sat herself on the brink of danger, when she I said, we may cat of all but one.' — (Bunyan on Genesis, vol. ii. ' p. 42'J.) Christiana had eluded the boys": ' You transgress, for that fruit is none of ours.' Still the boys went on, and now Matthew feels the bitterness of repentance. — (Ed.) 6 Although the mother did warn and chide her son, yet she did not use her authority to prevent his taking the fruit which belonged to another. She takes the fault home, falls under the sense of it, and is grieved for it. A tender con- science is a blessed sign of a gracious heart. Ye parents, who know the love of Christ, watch over your chUdrenj see to it, lest you smart for your sins, in not warning and preventing them, that 'the fear of the Lord is to depart from all evil;' yea, to abstain from the very appearance of it. — (Mason, altered by En.) 2f» 202 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christ. Pray, Sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it costs. Skill. Nay, I hope I shall he reasonahle. So Totionprepared. he ""*? hil" * P^S6' bllt U WaS t0° weak ; it was said, it was made of the Wood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, 1 In a SlaSS °f I have prescribed ; for, if you do, they the tears of will do no good.5 So he gave unto repen auce" Christiana physic for herself, and her boys, and for Mercy; and bid Matthew take heed how he eat any more green plums, and kissed them, and went his way. It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that if at any time they would, they should ask her some questions that might be profitable, and she would say something to them. Matt. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, Why, for the most part, physic should be bitter to our palates ? Prud. To show how unwelcome the Word of God, and the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. Matt. Why does physic, if it does of the effects of good, purge, and cause that we vomit? physic Of physic. by exercising faith in the atoning blood of the Lord Jesus as the only sacrifice for sin, ' If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness.' Ga. vi. 1. ' Flee youthful lusts,' aud be upon your guard against the fruit of Beelzebub's orchard. — (Ivimey.) 4 The relation of Matthew's sickness, and the method of his cure, may be justly esteemed among the finest passages of this work. He ate the fruit of Beelzebub's orchard, sin, the disease of the soul, threatening eternal death. It is an un- speakable mercy to be exceedingly pained with it. Such need the physician, and the remedy is at hand. Nothing hut thy blood, 0 Jesus I Can relieve us from our smart ; Nothing else from guilt release us Nothing else can melt the heart. — (Hart.) It is the universal medicine; blessed are those that will never take any other physic. — (Burder.) 6 This advice should be carefidly noted. Numbers abuse the doctrine of free salvation by the merits and redemption of Christ, and presume on forgiveness, when they are destitute of genuiue repentance, and give no evidence of sanctification. But this most efficacious medicine iu that case will do no good; or rather, the perverse abuse of it will increase their guilt, and tend to harden their hearts in sin. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S mOGRESS. 203 Prud. To show that the Word, when it works effectually, cleanseth the heart and mind. For look, what the one doth to the body, the other doth to the soul.1 Matt. What should we learn by Beeing the flame Of fire, and of of our tire go upwards \ and by seeing the sun. t]ic beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards { Prcd. By the going np of the fire we are taught to ascend to heaven, by fervent and hot desires. And by the sun's Bending bis beat, beams, and ' sweet influences downwards, we are taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reaeheth down with his grace and love to us below. MATT. Where have the clouds their Of the clouds. . , water i Prud. Out of the sea. Matt. What may we learn from that ? Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from God. Matt. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth ? Prud. To show that ministers should give out what they know of God to the world. Matt. Why is the rainbow caused Of the rainbow. . , , 0 by the sun f Prcd. To show that the covenant of God's grace is confirmed to us in Christ. Matt. Why do the springs come from the sea to us, through the earth ? Prud. To show that the grace of God comes to us through the body of Christ. Matt. Why do some of the springs Of the springs. . . , J „ . . . ,.,/, ° rise out or the tops or high hills i Prud. To show that the spirit of grace shall spring up in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many that are poor and low. Matt. Why doth the fire fasten upon the candlewick ? Prud. To show, that unless grace doth kindle upon the heart there will be no true light of life in us. Matt. Why is the wick and tallow, and all, spent to maintain the light of the candle ? Prud. To show that body and soul, and all, should be at the service of, and spend themselves to maintain, in good condition, that grace of God that is in us. 1 Imnyan's bill of his Master's writer of life: — 'As men, in their bills, do give an account of the persons cured, and the diseases removed, so could I give you account of numberless numbers that have not only been made to live, but to live for ever, by drinking this pure water of life. No disease comes amiss to it. It cures blindness, deafness, dumbness, deaduess. This right holy water (Ml other is counterfeit] will drive away evil spirits. It will make you hare a white so'.il, and that is better than a white skin.' — (Bnnyan's Water of Life) Who- ever offers to purify the heart, and heal a wounded conscience, by any other means, is a deceiver and a soul-destroyer. — (Ed.) Of the candle. Matt. \\ by doth the pelican pierce i i_ * -.i i i n q Of the pelican, her own breast With her hill f Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blood, anil thereby to show that Christ the blesBed so loveth his young, his people, as to save them from death by bis blood. Matt. What may one learn by . . x. 19 Of the cock, hearing the cock crow i Prud. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's repentance. The cock's crowing shows also that day is coming on; let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last and ter- rible day of judgment.3 Now, about this time their month was out ; wherefore they signified to those of the house that it was convenient for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his mother, It is convenient that you forget not to send to the house The weak mav of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him to ^Z grant that Mr. Great-heart should be Payers, sent unto us, that he may be our conductor the rest of our way. Good boy, said she, I had almost forgot. So she drew up a petition,8 and prayed Mr. Watchful, the Porter, to send it by some fit man, to her good friend Mr. Interpreter; who, when it was come, and he had seen the contents, of the petition, said to the messenger, Go tell them that I will send him. When the family, where Christiana was, saw that they had a purpose to go forward, Thg ^^ they called the whole house together, begone on their to give thanks to their King for send- "a}- ing of them such profitable guests as these. Which done, they said to Christiana, And shall we not show thee something, according as our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art upon the way ? So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, and showed them one of the apples that Eve did eat of, and that she also did give to her husband, and that for the eating of which they both were turned out of Paradise; and asked her wdiat she thought that was ? ^ gjg]lt 0f sin is Then Christiana said, It is food or ■■»** poison, I know not which.4 So they opened tho 2 This conversation is adapted for the meditation of a restored backslider. Evangelical truth prescribes the mo;t powerful antidotes to presumption and despair : — ' My little children, these thiugs write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.' 1 Jn. ii. 1. — (Ivimey.) 3 Having experienced the great advantage of a pious minister or elder, they were naturally desirous of havi comfort through their pilgrimage. The petition maj i the custom, among dissenting churches, of let! sion given to members wheu they move to a distant locality. —(Ed.) * How much is contained in that answer of Christiana as to the origin of evil— ' It is food or poison, I know not which I To believers, it will be their elevation to a degree of bliss that Eve's apple. 204 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Golden anchor. matter to her, and she held up her hands and wondered.1 Ge. m. e. Ro. vii. 24. Then they had her to a place, and showed her Jacob's ladder. Now at that time Jacob's ladder. ,, . ,. there was some angels ascending upon it. So Christiana looked, and looked, to see the angels go up ; and so did the rest of the company. Then they were going into another place, to show them something else ; hut James said to his mother, Asight of Christ Pray> hid them stay here a little longer, is taking. for th;g ;g a cur;ou3 sight.3 So they turned again, and stood feeding their eyes with this so pleasant a prospect. Ge. xxviii. 12. Jn. i. 51. After this, they had them into a place where did hang up a golden anchor, so they bid Christiana take it down ; for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it is of abso- lute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of that within the veil, and stand steadfast, in case you should meet with turbulent weather ; so they were glad thereof.3 He. vi. 19. Then they took them, and had them to the mount upon which _. ,. . Abraham our father had offered up Of Abraham l offering up Isaac his son, and showed them the altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife, for they remain to be seen to this very day. Ge. xxii. 9. When they had seen it, they held up their hands and blessed themselves, and said, 0 what a man for love to his Master, and for denial to himself, was Abraham ! After they had showed them all these things, Prudence took them into the dining- Pmdence's vir- room, where stood a pair of excellent ginals. virginals ;4 so she played upon them, they would never have otherwise enjoyed ; to the faithless, it will he poison of the deadliest kind. Here is no attempt to explain the origin of evil in our world ; a subject far beyond all our powers of investigation. — (Ed.) 1 It is not enough that the Holy Spirit convince us of sin at our first setting out on pilgrimage, and make us sensible of our want of Christ ; but he also keeps up a sight and sense of the evil of sin in its original nature, as well as actual trans- gressions. This often makes us wonder at sin, at ourselves, and at the love of Christ in becoming a sacrifice for our sins. And this also humbles us, makes us hate sin the more ; and makes Christ, his atonement, and righteousness, more and more precious in our eyes, and inestimable in our hearts. — (Mason.) 2 The ministration of angels is an animating theme to believers, and is well adapted to promote their confidence in the care and protection of God. ' Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?' He. i. 14. — (Ivimey.) 3 This is the anchor of hope. This keeps the soul safe, and steady to Jesus, who is the alone object of our hopes. Hope springs from faith. It is an expectation of the fulfilment of those things that are promised in the Word of truth, by the God of all grace. Faith receives them, trusts in them, relies upon them ; and hope waits for the full accomplishment and enjoyment of them. — (Mason.) 4 Bunyan loved harmony — he had a soul for music. But whether he intended by this to sanction the introduction of instrumental music into public worship, is not clear. The late Abraham Booth and Andrew Fuller were extremely averse to it ; others are as desirous of it. Music has a great effect and turned what she had showed them into this excellent song, saying — Eve's apple we have showed yon, Of that be you aware ; You have seen Jacob's ladder, too, Upon which angels are. An anchor you received have; But let not these suffice, Until, with Abr'am, you have gave Your best a sacrifice. Now, about this time, one knocked at the door; so the Porter opened, and behold Mr. Great-heart was there ; but when he was come in, Mr. Great-heart what joy was there ! For it came come a-ain- now fresh again into their minds, how but a while ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man the giant, and had delivered them from the lions. Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana, and to Mercy, My Lord hath sent each of _ . . J J He brings a to- you a bottle of wine, and also some ken from ins , ■, ^1 -^i 1 Lord with him. parched corn, together with a couple of pomegranates ; he has also sent the boys some figs and raisins, to refresh you in your way.5 Then they addressed themselves to their journey; and Prudence and Piety went along with them. When they came at the gate, Christiana asked the Porter if any of late went by ? He said, No ; only one some time since, who also told me, that of late there had been a great robbery com- ... , xt t^- • 1 • t Robbery, mitted on the lung s highway, as you go ; but, he said, the thieves are taken, and will shortly be tried for their lives.6 Then Christiana and Mercy were afraid ; but Matthew said, Mother, fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go with us, and to be our conductor. Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much obliged to you for all the kind- Christianatakcs nesses that you have showed me since herleaveoftho I came hither ; and also for that you have been so loving and kind to my children ; 1 on the nervous system, and of all instruments the organ is the most impressive. The Christian's inquiry is, whether sensations so produced assist the soul in holding communion with the Father of spirits, or whether, uuder our spiritual dispensation, the Holy Ghost makes use of such means to promote intercourse between our spirits and the uuseen hierarchies of heaven. — (Ed.) 5 O how reviving and refreshing are those love-tokens from our Lordl Great-heart never comes empty-handed. He always inspires with courage and confidence. Let us look more into, and heartily believe the Word of truth and grace ; and cry more to our precious Immauuel, and we shall have more of Great-heart's company. It is but sad travelling with- out him. — (Mason.) 8 What this great robbery was, whether spiritual or tem- poral, is left to the reader to imagine. The sufferings of the Dissenters were awfully severe at this time. Had it been a year later, we might have guessed it to have referred to the suffer- ings of that pious, excellent woman, Elizabeth Gaunt, who was burnt, October 23, 1 685. She was a Baptist, and cruelly mar- tyred. Penn, the Quaker, saw her die. ' She laid the straw about her for burning her speedily, and behaved herself in such a manner that all the spectators melted in tears.' — (Ed.) THE riLGRIM'S PROGRESS. 205 bow not how to gratify your kindness. Where- fore, pray, as a token of my respects to you, accept of this small mite ; so she put a gold angel in his The Porter's hand, and he made her a low obeis- btosing. nnce> am] g.^;^ Lct t],v garments he always white, and let thy head want no ointment.1 Let Mercy live, and not die, and let not her works he few. And to the hoys he said, Do you fly youth- ful lusts, and follow after godliness with them that are grave and wise ; so shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, and ohtain praise of all that are sober-minded. So they thanked the Porter, and departed. Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward until they were come to the hrow of the hill, where Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas! I have forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her companions ; I will go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way off, on the right hand, a most curious melo- dious note, with words much like these — Through all my life thy favour is So frankly show'd to me, That in thy house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be. And, listening still, she thought she heard an- other answer it, saying — For why ? The Lord our God is good, His mercy is for ever sure; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure. So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that made those curious notes ? They are, said she, 1 .Mr. Ivimey is of opinion that by this Bunyan sanctioned a hireling ministry, but it appears more to refer to the common custom of rewarding servants to whom you have given trouble. He adduces Lu. x. 7; 1 Ti. v. 18 ; and 1 Co. ix. 11-14. It is a subject of considerable difficulty ; but how is it that no minister ever thinks of referring to the plainest passage upon this subject in the New Testament? It is Ac. xx. 17-38, especially ver. 33-35. The angel was a gold coin, in value half a sovereign. — (Ed.) 2 Such mountains round about this house do stand As one from thence may see the Holy Land.1 Her fields are fertile, do abound with corn; The lilies fair her valleys do adorn. - The birds that do come hither every spring, For birds, they are the very best that Brag.3 Her friends, her neighbours too, do call her blest ,4 Angels do here go by, turn in, and rest.' The road to paradise lies by her gate,9 Here pilgrims do themselves accommodate With bed and board; and do such stories tell, As do for truth and profit all excel. Nor doth the porter here say any nay, That hither would turn in, that here would stay. This house is rent free ; here the man may dwell That loves his landlord, rules his passions well. — (Bunyan's House of God, vol. ii. p. 579.) » ?<. c\xv. 2. ' P.. ihui. i. Ca. ii. 1. lie. x.u. 2. Ca. ii. 11,12. Gcxxviii. 17. our country birds ; they sing these notes but sel- dom, except it be at the spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun shines warm, and then you may hear them all day long.-' Ca, ii. n, 12. 1 often, said she, go out to hear them; we also ofttimes keep them tame in our house. They are very fine company for us when we are melancholy; also they make the woods, and groves, and. solitary places, places desirous to be in.8 By this time Piety was come again ; so she said to Christiana, Look here, I have piety brought thee a scheme of all those ^' XS^al things that thou hast seen at our parting. house, upon which thou mayest look when thou tindest thyself forgetful, and call those things again to remembrance- for thy edification and comfort.4 Now they began to go down the hill into the Valley of Humiliation. It was a steep j^rt Part, hill, and the way was slippery ; but P- 1U- they were very careful, so they got down pretty well. When they were down in the Valley,5 Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where Chris- tian your husband, met with the foul fiend Apollyon, and where they had that dreadful fight that they had ; I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good courage, as long as you have here Mr. Great-heart to be your guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the better. So when these two had committed the Pilgrims unto the conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went after. Great-heart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We 3 It is sweet melody when we can sing with grace in the heart. The joy arising from God's free grace and pardoning love, is greater than the joy of harvest, or of one who rejoices when he divides the spoil. — (J. B.) Those joyful notes Bpring from a sense of nearness to the Lord, and a firm confidence in his Divine truth and everlasting mercy. O when the Sun of Righteousness shines warmly on the soul, it makes the pil- grims sing most sweetly I These songs approach very nearly to the heavenly music in the realm of glory. — (Mason.) 4 Forgetfulness makes things nothings. It makes us as if things had never been ; and so takes away from the soul one great means of stay, support, and encouragement. Winn David was dejected, the remembrance of the hill Hcrmon was his stay. ^Yhen he was to go out against Goliah, the remem- brance of the lion and the bear was bis support. The recovery of a backslider usually begins at the remembrance of former things. — (Bunyan's Holy Life, vol. ii. p. 507.) 5 After being thus highly favoured with sensible comforts, in the views of faith, the comforts of hope, and the joy of love, the next step these pilgrims are to take is down the Hill Difficulty, into the Valley of Humiliation. What doth this place signify ? A deep and abiding sight and sense of our ruined state, lost condition, and desperate eJrctunstances, as fallen sinners. This is absolutely neci ssary, lest we should think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think. For the Lord oft favours us with manifestations of his love, and the comforts of his Spirit; but, through the corruption of our nature, we are prone to be exalted in ourselves, and, as it were, intoxicated by them. Hence we are exhorted ' to think soberly.' Eo. xii. 3'. Tlii* the Valley of Humiliation caiuei us to do. — (.Masou.) 206 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. need not to be so afraid of tliis Valley, for here is Mr. Great-heart nothing to hurt us, unless we procure it UuSion.°f t0 ourselves. It is true, Christian did First Part, here meet with Apollyon, with whom page in. he a]so h^ a gore comDat . hut that fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in his going down the hill ; for they that get slips there, must look for combats here. And hence it is, that this Valley has got so hard a name. For the common people, when they hear that some fright- ful thing has befallen such a one in such a place, are of an opinion, that that place is haunted with some foul fiend, or evil spirit ; when, alas ! it is for the fruit of their doing, that such things do befall them there. This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruit- _,, , ful a place, as any the crow flies over ; The reason why , Christian was and I am persuaded, if we could hit bo beset here. ., . , , n , , upon it, we might find somewhere hereabouts, something that might give us an account why Christian was so hardly beset in this place. Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder . ... ... stands a pillar, and it looks as if sonie- A. pillar with an i / inscription on thing was written thereon ; let us go and see what it is. So they went, and found there written, ' Let Christian's slips, before he came hither, and the battles that he met with in this place, be a warning to those that come after.' Lo, said their guide, did not I tell you, that there was something hereabouts, that would give intimation of the reason why Christian was so hard beset in this place? Then, turning himself to Christiana, he said, No disparagement to Chris- tian, more than to many others, whose hap and lot his was ; for it is easier going up, than down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory over his enemy ; let him grant that dwelleth above, that we fare no worse, when we come to be tried, than he. But we will come again to this Valley of Humi- This VaUey a liation. It is the best and most useful brave place. pjece Qf groun(J JQ all tuoge partg# jt 1 Thu3 beautifully does our author describe the grace of humility. O that every reader may know its excellence by happy experience 1 — (Burder.) 2 These are the rare times ; above all, when I can go to God as the Publican, sensible of his glorious majesty, sensible of my misery, and bear up and affectionately cry, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' For my part, I find it oue of the hardest things I can put my soul upon, when warmly sensible that I am a sinner, to come to God for a share in mercy and grace; I cannot but with a thousand tears say, ' God be mer- ciful to me a sinner.' — (Buuyan's Pharisee and Publican, vol. ii. p. 261.) 8 Though this Valley of Humiliation, or a clear sight and abiding sense of the sinfulness of our nature, and the wicked- ness of our hearts, may be very terrifying to pilgrims, after they have been favoured with peace and joy, and comforted by the views of faith and hope, yet it is a very safe place; and is fat ground, and, as you see, consisteth much in meadows ; and if a man was to come here in the summer-time, as we do now, if he knew not any- thing before, thereof, and if he also delighted him- self in the sight of his eyes, he might see that that would be delightful to him. Behold how green this Valley is, also how beautified with lilies.1 Ca. ii. l. I have also known many labouring men that have got good estates in this Valley of Humiliation (' for God resisteth the proud, but gives more, more grace unto the humble,' Ja. iv.6; l Pe. t. 5), for indeed it is a very fruitful „ ., . . J Men thrive in soil, and doth bring forth by handfuls. the Valley of Some also have wished, that the next way to their Father's house were here, that they might be troubled no more with either hills or mountaius to go over ; but the way is the way, and there is an end.3 Now, as they were going along, and talking, they espied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a very fresh and well-favoured countenance ; and as he sat by himself, he sang. Hark, said Mr. Great-heart, to what the shepherd's boy saith. So they hearkened, and he said — He that is down needs fear no fall ; He that is low, no pride; He that is humble, ever shall Have God to be his guide. PM. iv. 12, 13. I am content with what I have, Little be it, or much ; And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because thou savest such. Fulness to such a burden is, That go on pilgrimage ; Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age.4 lie. xiii. 5. Then said the guide, Do you hear him? I will dare to say, that this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of that herb called heart's-ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet ;5 but we will proceed in our discourse. though, at first entering into it, and seeing more of themselves than was ever before showed them, they may fear and tremble, yet, after some continuing here, they are more reconciled and contented; for here they find the visits of their Lord, and in the depths of their humility, they behold the heights of his love and the depths of his mercy, and cry out in joy, Where sin aboundeth, grace superabounds. Though sin abounds in me, the grace of Jesus superabounds towards me. Though I am emptied of all, yet I have an inexhaustible fulness in Jesus, to supply me with all I want and all I hope. — (Mason.) 4 The humble man is contented ; if his estate be low, his heart is lower still. He that is little in his own eyes, will not be much troubled at being little in the eyes of others. — (Watson.) Those circumstances that will not disturb a humble man's sleep, will break a proud man's heart. — (Matt. Heury.) They that get slips in going down the hill, or would hide his descent by deception, or repine at it, must look for combats when in the valley. — (Ivimey.) 6 Perhaps the shepherd's boy may refer to the obscure but quiet station of some pastors over small congregations, who THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 207 Tn this Valley our Lord formerly had liis country house ; he loved much to he here ; he the flesh,0!™! loved also to walk these meadows, for }!oSUSeC(inUtrte lic found tlie air was Peasant.1 Be- VaUey of liu- sides, here a man shall he free from initiation. . - . , . „ the noise, and from the hurryings ot this life. All states are full of noise and con- fusion, only the Valley of Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not be so let and hindered in his contemplation, as in other places he is apt to be. This is a Valley that nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgrim's life. And though Christian had the hard hap to meet here with Apollyon, and to enter with him a brisk encounter, yet I must tell you, that in former times men have met with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place found the words of life.2 Ho. xii. 4, 5. Did I say, our Lord had here in former days his country-house, and that he loved here to walk ? I will add, in this place, and to the people that live, and trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid them at certain seasons, for their maintenance by the way, and for their further encouragement to go on in their pilgrimage. Matxi. 29. Samuel.3 Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great-heart ; Sir, I perceive that in this Valley my father and Apollyon had their battle ; but whereabout was the fight? for I perceive this Valley is large. Great-heart. Your father had that battle with Apollvon, at a place vonder, before Forgetful Green. r . J r J . . , , us, in a narrow passage, just beyond Forgetful Green.4 And indeed, that place is the live almost unknown to their brethren, but are, iu a measure, useful and very comfortable. — (Scott.) 1 Our Lord chose retirement, poverty, and an obscure station; remote from bustle, and favourable to devotion; so that his appearance in a public character, and in crowded scenes, for the good of mankind and the glory of the Father, was a part of his self-denial, in which ' he pleased not himself.' Some are banished into this valley, but the poor in spirit love to walk in it ; and though some believers here struggle with distressing temptations, others, in passing through it, enjoy much communion with God. — (Scott.) 2 Ever remember the words of our Lord, ' It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master.' If your Lord made it his chief delight to be in this Valley of Humiliation, learn from his example to prize this valley. Though you may meet with an Apollyon or a destroyer here, yet you are safe in the arms and under the power of your all-conquering Lord: ' Pot though the Lord is high, yet hath he respect unto the Ion ly.' Therefore you may add with David, 'Though I walk in the midst of trouble, thou wilt revive me : thou shalt stretch lorth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand shall save me.' Fs. exxxviii. 7. Such are the con- fidence, the reasoning, and the pleading of humble souls iu the power of faith, which leads them quite out of themselves to their Lord. — (Mason.) 3 In the first edition this name is printed ' Simon ;' it was corrected to Samuel in Bunyan's later editions. — (Ed.) 4 It is marvellous to see how some men are led captive by- most dangerous place in all these parts. For if at any time the pilgrims meet wuh any brunt, it is when they forget what favours they have re- ceived, and how unworthy they are of them.0 This is the place also, where others have been hard put to it; but more of the place when we are come to it ; for I persuade myself, that to this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monument to testify that such a battle there was fought. Mercy. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this Valley, as I have been anywhere else in all our journey; the place, methinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be in such places Humility a where there is no rattling with coaches, 8wect srace- nor rumbling with wheels ; methinks, here one may, without much molestation, be thinking what he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the King has called him ; here one may think, and break at heart, and melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become like ' the fish-pools of Heshbon.' Ca. vii. 4. They that go rightly through this Valley of Baca, make it a well, the rain that God sends down from heaven upon them that are here, also filleth the pools, rs. lxxxiv. e, 7. This Valley is that from whence also the King will give to his their vineyards, Ho. ii. is ; and they that go through it, shall sing, as Christian did, for all he met with Apollyon. Great-heart. It is true, said their guide, I have gone through this Valley many a time, and never was better than e*f i™meL when here. I have also been a conductor to several pilgrims, and they have confessed the same. ' To this man will I look (saith the King), even to him that is forgetfulness. Those that some time thought no pains too much, no way too far, no hazards too great to run for eternal life, become as if they had never thought of such things. Should one say to some — Ait not thou that man 1 saw crying out under a sermon, 'What shall I do to be saved?' that I heard speak well of the holy Word of God? how askew they will look upon one. Or if they acknowledge that such things were with them once, they do it more like dejected ghosts thau as men. — (Bunyan's Ho/// Life, vol. ii. p. 507.) s 0 pilgrims, attend to this I Pride and ingratitude go hand in hand. Study, ever study the favours of your Lord ; how freely they are bestowed upon you, and how utterly un- worthy you are of the least of them. Beware of Forgetful Green. Many, after going some way on pilgrimage, get into this Green, and continue here; and talk of their own faithful- ness to grace received, the merit of their works, and a second justification by their works, &c. Hence it is plain that they are fallen asleep on this Forgetful Green, and talk incoherently, as men do in their sleep ; for they fra-get that they are still sinners— poor, needy, wretched sinners; and that they want the blood of Christ to cleanse them, the righteousness of Christ to justify them, and the Spirit of Christ to keep them humble, and to enable them to live by faith upon the fulness of Christ to sanctify them, as much as they did when they first set out as pilgrims. O it is a most blessed thing to be kept mindful of what we are, and of the Lord's free grace aud unmerited goodness to us 1 — (Mason.) 208 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word. ' X Is. Lsvi. 2. Now they were come to tlie place where the afore-mentioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, her children, and Mercy, This is the place, on this ground Christian stood, and up there came Apollyon against him. And look, did not I tell you? here is some The place where e , , u 11 i .1 Christian and ot your husband s blood upon these the Rend did gt()nes to thjs dfty . be]10lJ) alSOj how signs of the here and there are yet to bs seen upi fight. Some signs battle remain. the place, some of the shivers of Apoll- yon's broken darts; see also, how they did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to make good their places against each other ; how also, with their by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces. Verily, Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as stout, as could, had he been there, even Hercules himself.2 When Apoll- yon was beat, he made his retreat to the next Valley, that is called, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, unto which we shall come anon.3 Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which A monument of is engraven this battle, and Christian's the battle, victory, to his fame throughout all ages. So, because it stood just on the wayside before them, they stepped to it, and read the writing, which word for word was this — Hard by, here was a battle fought, Most strange, and yet most true;4 A mmument Christian and Apollyon sought of Christian's Each other to subdue, victory. rp^g man g0 }jrave]y piay'j the man, He made the fiend to fly ; Of which a monument I stand, The same to testify. When they had passed by this place, they came First Part, upon the borders of the Shadow of p. 114.. Death ; and this Valley was longer than the other ; a place, also,' most strangely haunted 1 ' Trembles at God's "Word,' so as not to dare pick and choose which doctrines he will receive, and which reject. Would you act thus by God's holy commandments ? Would you choose one and reject another? Are they not all of equal authority ? And are not all his holy doctrines also stamped with the same Divine sanction? Where there is true faith in them, it will make a man tremble to act thus by God's Word 1 — (Mason.) 2 We ought to study the records of the temptations, con- flicts, faith, patience, and victories of believers ; mark their wounds, by what misconduct they were occasioned, that we may watch and pray lest wc fall in like manner. Learn how they repelled the assaults of the tempter, that we may learn to resist him steadfast in the faith. Their triumphs should animate us to keep on the whole armour of God, that we may be able to withstand in the evil day. — (Scott.) 3 If Satan be driven back from one attack, prepare for another. Bless God for your armour. Never put it off. — (Mason.) * If this monument refers to the experience of Bunyan, as exhibited in his Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, it is well called, ' Most strange, and yet most true.' — (Ed.) with evil things, as many are able to testify ;5 but these women and children went the better through it, because they had daylight, and because Mr. Great-heart was their conductor. When they were entered upon this Valley, they thought that they heard a groaning, „ ° , , Groamngs heard, as of dead men, a very great groan- ing. They thought, also, they did hear words of lamentation spoken, as of some in extreme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the women also looked pale and wan ; but their guide bid them be of good comfort. So theywent on a little further, and they thought that they felt the ground begin to shake The oround under them, as if some hollow place shakes. was there ; they heard also a kind of a hissing, as of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then said the boys, Are we not yet at the end of this doleful place? But the guide also bid them b« of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest haply, said he, you be taken in some snare.6 Now James began to be sick, but I think the cause thereof was fear ; so his mother James s\cY with gave him some of that glass of spirits fcar- that she bad given her at the Interpreter's house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepared, and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on, till they came to about the middle of the Valley, and then Christiana said, Methinks I The Fiend see something yonder upon the road be- appears. fore us, a thing of such a shape such as I have not seen. Then said Joseph, Mother, what is it? An ugly thing, child ; an ugly thing, said she. But, mother, what is it like? said he. It The Pilgrims is like I cannot tell what, said she. areafriiid- And now it was but a little way off; then said she, It is nigh. Well, well, said Mr. Great-heart, Let them that are most afraid, keep close to me. So Great-heart en- the fiend came on, and the conductor images them. met it; but when it Avas just come to him, it vanished to all their sights. Then remembered they what had been said some time ago, ' Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.' Ja. iv. 7. They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but they had not gone far, before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she , .. V ° , . i-i v A lion, thought, something most like a lion, 6 This valley represents the inward distress, conflict, and alarm, arising from darkness and insensibility of mind. It varies according to the constitution, animal spirits, health, education, and strength of mind of different persons. — (Scott.) 6 None know the distress, anguish, and fear that haunt pil- grims in this valley, but those who have been in it. The hissings, revilings, aud injections of that old serpent, with all his infernal malice, seem to be let loose upon pilgrims in this valley. Asaph seems to be walking in this valley when he says, 'As for me, my feet were almost gone, my steps had well nigh slipped.' Ps. hxiii. 2.— (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 209 fend it came a great padding pace after ; and it hail n hollow voice of roaring; and at every roar that it gave, it made all the Valley echo, and their hearts to aehc, save the heart of him that was their guide. So it came up ; and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the Pilgrims all before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart ad- dressed himself to give him battle. But when he saw that it was determined that resistance should be made, he also drew back, and came no further.1 I Te. v. 8, 9. Then they went on again, and their conductor did go before them, till they came at a place where A pit and dark- was cast UP a lMt trie whole breadth uess- of the way ; and, before they could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and dark- ness fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then said the Pilgrims, Alas ! now what shall we do? But their guide made answer, Fear not, stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also. So they staid there, because their path was marred. They then also thought that they did hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies ; the lire, also, and the smoke of the pit, was much easier to be discerned.2 Then said Christiana to Mercy, Now I see what my poor Christiana now husband went through ; I have heard knows what her much of this place, but I never was husband telt. , . „ ^ , here betore now. Poor man, lie went here all alone in the night ; he had night almost quite through the way; also, these fiends were busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none can tell what the Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean, until they come in it themselves. ' The heart knows its own bitterness ; and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy.' To be here is a fearful thing. Great-heart. This is like doing business in Great-heart's great waters, or like going down into rcP'y- the deep ; this is like being in the heart of the sea, and like going down to the bot- toms of the mountains ; now it seems as if the earth, with its bars, were about us for ever. But let them that walk in darkness, and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their 1 Satan is often most dreadful at a distance, and, courage- ously resisted, will not advance nearer. This advice is ever needful, ' Be sober ; be vigilant.' These pilgrims kept up their watch. Satan did come upon them unawares ; still they heard his approach ; they were prepared for his attack ; lo, Satan drew back. — (Mason.) - Miserable, uncomfortable walking; with a pit before us, and darkness around, yea, within us, and hell seeming to move from beneath to meet us who have been left to the dark- ness of our nature, the terrors of a fiery law, the sense of guilt, and the fear of hell ! 0 what an unspeakable mercy, iusuch a distressing season, to have an Almighty Saviour to look to, and call upon for safety and salvation I ' For he will hear our cry and save us.' Ps. cxlv. 19. — i^Masou.) VOL. III. God.3 is. l. io. For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often through this Valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am, and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that 1 am not mine own saviour ; but I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for light to him that can lighten our dark- ness, and that can rebuke not only these, but all the Satans in hell. So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliverance, for there was now no _ , . , . . ,, , They pray. let m their way ; no not there, where but now they were stopped with a pit. Yet they were not got through the Valley ; so they went on still, and behold great stinks and loathsome smells, to the great annoyance of them.4 Then said Mercy to Christiana, There is not such pleasant being here, as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the house where we lay last. 0 but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to go through here, as it is to abide hero Une of the boys' always; and for aught I know, one re^- reason why we must go this way to the house pre- pared for us, is, that our home might be made the sweeter to us.5 Well said, Samuel, quoth the guide, thou hast now spoke like a man. Why, if ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I did in all my life. Then said the guide, We shall be out by and by.G So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the end of this Valley as yet ? Then said the guide, Look to your feet, for you shall pre- sently be among the snares. So they looked to their feet, and went on ; but they were troubled 3 This text has been a sheet anchor to my soul under dark- ness and distress. I doubt not but it has been so to many others. 0 there is an amazing depth of grace, and a wonder- ful height of mercy in it. Bless God for it. Study it deeply. — (Mason.) 4 \\ hat must the pure and holy Jesus have suffered when he tasted death in all its bitterness? His sold was in an agony. Hell was let loose upon him. This is your hour, said he, aud the power of darkness, when he cried out, ' My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' It seemed as if the pains of hell had got hold of him. O what justice and judg- ment I what love and mercy! what power and might were here displayed 1 And all this for us, and for our salvation. W hat shall we render to the Lord for all hisbeuetits? — (J. B.) 6 Precious thought ; under the worst and most distressing cirenmstanees think of this. Their continuance is short. The appointment, love. Their end shall be crowned with glory. Our dark and distressing nights make us prize our light and joyful days the more. — (Mason.) 6 The'tremendous horrors of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, figuratively represents the gloomy frame of mind in which fears rise high, aud temptations greatly abound, more especially "hen they are augmented by bodily disease. Pew Christians are wholly exempted from such distressing seasons, but all are not distressed alike.— (Burder.) Banyan's experi- ence, recorded in his Grace Abounding, shows that I when under conviction, very familiar with these horrors. — (ED.) 27 *10 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. much with the snares. Now, when they were come among the snares, they espied a man cast into the ditch on the left hand, with his flesh all rent and torn. Then said the guide, That is one Heedless, Heedless is slain that was agoing this way ; he has lain ■md Take-heed there a great while.1 There was one Take-heed with him, when he was taken and slain ; hut he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine how many are killed hereabout, and yet men are so foolishly venturous, as to set out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a First Part, guide.2 Poor Christian ! it was a won- p. ill. ^ tnat ]ie jiere esCaped ; Dut he was beloved of his God : also, he had a good heart of his own,3 or else he could never have done it. Now they drew towards the end of the way ; and just there where Christian had seen the cave when he went by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This Maul did use to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry; and he called Great-heart by his name, and said unto him, How ne quarrels with many times have you been forbidden Great-heart. to do tiiese t]lings ? Then said Mr. Great-heart, What things? What things? quoth the giant ; you know what things ; but I will put an end to your trade. But pray, said Mr. Great- heart, before we fall to it, let us understand where- fore we must fight. Now the women and children stood trembling, and knew not what to do. Quoth the giant, You rob the country, and rob it with the worst of thefts.4 These are but generals, said Mr. Great-heart; come to particulars, man. Maul, a giant. 1 Heedless professors, be warned. The doctrines of grace were never intended to lull any asleep in carnal security. If they do so by you, it is a sure sign that what should have been for your health proves an occasion, of your falling. — (Mason.) 0 the miserable end of them that obey not the gospel — punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power. — (J. B.) 2 Prayer prevailed, and they were delivered. By glimm'ring hopes, and gloomy fears, We trace the sacred road ; Through dismal deeps, and dung'rous snares, We make our way to God. — (Binder.) 3 By a good heart is here meant, that Christian was endued with boldness and courage from above ; as the Psalmist says, ' Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart.'— (J. B.) 4 Satan's master argument is, Thou art a horrible sinner, a hypocrite, one that has a profane heart, and one that is an utter stranger to a work of grace. I say this is his Maul, his club, his master-piece. He doth with this as some do by their most enchanting songs, sings them everywhere. I believe there are but few saints in the world that have not had this temptation sounding in their ears. But were they but aware, Satan by all this does but drive them to the gap, out at which they should go, aud so escape his roaring. Saith he, Thou art a great sinner, a horrible sinuer, a profane-hearted wretch, one that cannot be matched for a vile one in the country. The tempted may say, Aye, Satan, so I am, a sinner of the biggest size, and, therefore, have most need of Jesus Christ ; yea, be- cause I am such a wretch Jesus calls me first. I am he, wherefore stand back, Satan, make a lane ; my right is first to come to Jesus Christ. This, now, would be like for like ; this would foil the devil : this would make him say, I must not Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a kidnapper ; thou gatherest up „ ,, 11 ° . r God's ministers women and children, and earnest them counted as kid- in to a strange country, to the weaken- nappeis- ing of my master's kingdom. But now Great-heart replied, I am a servant of the God of heaven ; my business is to persuade sinners to repentance ; I am commanded to do my endeavour to turn men, women, and children, ' from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God:' , ,.,,,., .-ii-i 1^ "lie giant and and it this be indeed the ground of Mr. Great-heart thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon mus ° as thou wilt. Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart went to meet him ; and a3 he went, he drew his sword, but the giant had a club. So Avithout more ado, they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great-heart down upen one of his knees ; with that the women and chil- Weak folks, dren cried out ; so Mr. Great-heart prayers do recovering himself, laid about him in help strong full lusty manner, and gave the giant ° s cnes' a wound in his arm ; thus he fought for the space of an hour, to that height of heat, that the breath came out of the giant's nostrils, as the heat doth out of a boiling caldron. Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great- heart betook him to prayer ; also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last.5 When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both fell to it again,6 and Mr. Great-heart with a full blow, fetched the giant The giant down to the ground. Nay, hold, and stlU(*down. let me recover, quoth he ; so Mr. Great-heart fairly let him get up. So to it they went again, and the giant missed but little of all-to-breaking Mr. Great-heart's skull with his club. Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat of his spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib ; with that the giant began to faint, and could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great- heart seconded his blow, and smote the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then the women and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God, for the deliverance he had wrought.7 deal with this man thus ; for then I put a sword into his hand to cut off my head. — (Good News for the Vilest of Men, vol. i. p. 96.) ° The greatest heart cannot understand without prayer, nor conquer without the almighty power of God. The belief of this will excite prayer. — (Mason.) 6 The severity of Job's sufferings probably suggested to the author, the idea of taking rest during the conflict. ' How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?' Job vii. 19. Here is no timidly miucing the matter with sophistry or infidelity ; but a manful, prayer- ful, lighting it out.— (Ed.) 7 Mr. Ivimey considers, that in Giant Maul is characterised that erroneous but common notion, that the church of Christ THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 211 "When this was done, they among them erected _ , , . .a pillar, and fastened the giant's head I \ Fie is slain, and , f ' , , ° ., . . . J his liead dis- thereon, and wrote unuerneatn in lct- posc °* ters, that passengers might read- lie that did wear this head, was one That pilgrims did misuse ; He stoppM their Way, he spared none, But diil them all abase; Until that I, Great-heart, arose, The pilgrim's guide to be; Until that I did him oppose, That was their enemy. Now I saw, that they went to the ascent that was a little way off, cast up to he a prospect for First Vnrt, pilgrims (that was the place from p. lie. ' whence Christian had the first sight of Faithful his brother) ; wherefore here they sat down, and rested ; they also here did eat and drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy.1 As they sat thus, and did eat, Christiana asked the guide if he had caught no hurt in the battle. Then said Mr. Great-heart, No, save a little on my flesh ; yet that also shall be so far from being to my detriment, that it is at present a proof of my love to my Master and you, and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my reward at last.2 2 Co. iv. consists exclusively of some one state religion, to dissent from which is to cause schism, and to rend the seamless coat of Christ. Maul dwelt in the place where Pagan and Pope had resided ; the club being the temporal power to compel uniformity. If so, the declaration for liberty of conscience slew the siant, and the Act of toleration prevented his resurrec- tion. Alas, how little do such Antichristians know of that spiritual kingdom which extends over all the temporal king- doms of the earth, and which constitutes Christ the King of lings. — (Ed.) Carnal reasoning upon the equity of the Divine proceedings have mauled many a Christian — robbed him of his comfort, and spoiled his simplicity. As soon as we turn aside to vain janglings and doubtful disputations, we get upon the devil's ground. As Great-heart was knocked down with this giant's club, so many a faithful minister has beeu confounded with the subtle arguments of a cunning disputer. The way to overcome this giant is to keep close to Scripture, and pray for the teaching of the Holy Spirit.— (J. B.) Though Maul was baffled, disabled, and apparently slain ; it will appear that he has left a posterity on earth to revile, injure, and oppose the spiritual worshippers of God in every generation. — (Scott.) 1 Well may Giant Maid, with his sophistry, be called a dangerous enemy. Many of this tribe are mentioned in the IMy War, as Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, the Lord Murmur, and one Clip-promise, a notorious villain. These lords felt the edge of Lord Will-be- will's sword, for which his Prince Immauuel honoured him. Clip-promise was set in the pillory, whipped, and hanged. One clipper-of-promise does great abuse to Mansoul in a little time. Banyan's judgment was, that 'all those of his name and life should be served even as he!' — (Ed.) 2 Light afflictions, but for a moment, and which work out for us an eternal weight of glory — ' a little hurt on my flesh.' If this refers to Bunyan's twelve years' imprisonment under the maul of sophistry, how must his natural temper have been subdued by humility ! — (Ed.) Christ. But was you not afraid, good Sir, when you saw him come out with his club ? :i Discomne of the Great-heart. It is my duty, said ,i»llt- he, to distrust my own ability, that I may have reliance on him that is stronger than all. Christ. But what did you think when he fetched you down to the ground at the first blow? Great-heart. Why, I thought, quoth he, that so my Master himself was served, and yet he it was that conquered at the last. Matt. When you all have thought what you please, I think God has been wonder- ,. ,,, , 1 ' ... Matthew hrre ful good unto us, both in bringing us admires Good- out of this Valley, and in delivering us out of the hand of this enemy ; for my part, I see no reason, why we should distrust our God any more, since he has now, and in such a place as this, given us such testimony of his love as this. Then they got up and went forward. Now a little before them stood an oak; and -,, „ .Old Honest a. under it, when they came to it, they sleep under au found an old pilgrim fast asleep ; they knew that he was a pilgrim by his clothes, and his staff, and his girdle. So the guide, Mr. Great heart, awaked him, and the old gentleman, as he lift up his eyes, cried out, What's the matter? Who are you? and what is your business here?4 Great-heart. Come, man, be not so hot, here is none but friends ; yet the old man gets up, and stands upon his guard, and will know of them what they were. Then said the guide, My name is Great-heart ; I am the guide of these Pilgrims, which are going to the Celestial Country. Honest. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy ; I feared that you had been One saint some- of the company of those that some another for hi! time ago did rob Little-faith of his eue,">- money ; but now I look better about me, I perceive you are honester people. Great-heart. Why, what woul or could you have done, to have helped yourself, if we indeed had been of that company. Hon. Done ! why I would have fought as long as breath had been in me ; and had I so done, I am sure you could never have given me the worst on it ; for a Christian can never be overcome, unless he should yield of himself.0 Talk between d, Great-heart 3 This club we may suppose to mean human power, under which many godly ministers, in the seventeenth century, Buf- fered greatly. Blessed be God, we have nothing of this to fear in our" day ;" therefore, the more shame for such professors who desert Christ when they have nothing to fear but the breath of reproach, a nickname, or a by- word of contempt.— (Mason.) 4 The experienced Christian will be afraid of new acquaint- ance; hi his most unwatchful seasons he is folly convinced that no enemy can hurt him, unless he is induced to yield to temptation, and commit sin. — (Scott.) 5 The character of Honesty is beautifully drawn by a mas- i terly hand. 'Ihe aged pilgrim, worn out with fatigue, can sa) 212 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Great-heart. Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide ; for by this I know thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou hast said the truth. Hon. And by this, also, I know that thou knowest what true pilgrimage is ; for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of any. Great-heart. Well, now we are so happily met, Whence Mr. Pray let nie crave your name, and the Honest came. name 0f the place you came from. Hon. My name I cannot ; but I came from the town of Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond the City of Destruction. Great-heart. Oh ! are you that countryman, then ? I deem I have half a guess of you ; your name is Old Honesty, is it not ? So the old gen- tleman blushed, and said, Not Honesty, in the abstract,1 but Honest is my name; and I wish that my nature shall agree to what I am called. Hon. But, Sir, said the old gentleman, how could you guess that I am such a man, since I came from such a place? Great-heart. I had heard of you before, by my Master ; for he knows all things that are done on the earth ; but I have often wondered that any stnpified oneg should come from your place, for your tTosT' merely town is worse than is the City of De- camal struction itself. Hon. Yes, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and senseless; but was a man in a mountain of ice, yet if the Sun of Righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen heart shall feel a thaw ; and thus it hath been with me.2 Great-heart. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it ; for I know the thing is true. Then the old gentleman saluted all the Pilgrims with a holy kiss of charity ; and asked them of their names, and how they had fared since they set out on their pilgrimage.3 without fear, ' I laid me down and slept ; I awaked ; for the Lord sustained me.' He blushed when his name was men- tioned, and proved to be a most valuable acquisition to the Pilgrim party.— (En.) 1 By honesty, in the abstract, he means to distinguish be- tween his earnest desire to be honest, and a perfect character. Every Christian is the subject of honesty or justice, upright- ness and sincerity ; yet when we come to describe these virtues in the abstract, or what they really are in their strict purity and utmost perfection, where is the Christian but must wear the conscientious blush, as Honesty did, under a sense of his imperfections ? — (Mason.) 2 This is the confession of an honest heart. It is never afraid of ascribing too much to the sovereignty of grace ; nor of giving all the glory to the Sun of Kighteousnrss, for shining upon, and melting down its hard frozen soul. — (Mason.) 3 If the kiss of charity be given, great care should be taken that it is a 'holy' kiss. 'Some have urged the holy kiss, but then I have asked why they made baulks ; why they did salute the most handsome, and let the ill-favoured go. This has been unseemly in my sight.' — {Grace Abounding, No. 315.) How- ever such a custom may have been innocent in the oriental scenes of apostolic labours, it has been very properly discontinued in later ages, unless it be as in the case of old Honest, or the unexpected meeting of very old friends and relatives. — (Ed.) Christ. Then said Christiana, My name, I sup- pose you have heard of; good Chris- oid Honest and tian was my husband, and these four Christiana talk. were his children. But can you think how the olJ gentleman was taken, when she told him who she was ! He shipped, he smiled, and blessed them witli a thousand good wishes, saying: t Hon. I have heard much of your husband, and of his travels and wars, which he underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband rings over all these part3 of the world: his faith, his courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, has made his name famous. Then he turned him to the boys, and He ds0 talk9 asked them of their names, which they "■>* *e b?>'s. ,11. aii -ii •'Old Air. llo- told him. And then said he unto nest's blessing them : Matthew, be thou like Matthew on em' the publican, not in vice, but in virtue. Mat. x. 3. Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Ps. xdx. 6. Joseph, said he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that flies from temptation. Ge. xxxix. And James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord. Ac. i. 13, u. Then they told him of Mercy, and how she pie Wesseth had left her town and her kindred to Mercy. come along with Christiana and with her sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy name ; by Mercy shalt thou be sustained, and carried through all those difficulties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither, where thou shalt look the Fountain of Mercy in the face with comfort. All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very much pleased, and smiled upon his companion. Now, as they walked along together, the guide asked the old gentleman, if he did not know one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage Talk of one out Of his parts? Mr. fearing. Hon. Yes, very well, said he. He was a man that had the root of the matter in him ; but he was one of the most troublesome pilgrims that ever I met with in all my days.4 4 The character and narrative of Fearing is drawn and arranged with great judgment, and in a very affecting manner. Little-faith, mentioned in the First Part, was faint-hearted and distrustful ; aud thus he contracted guilt, aud lost his comfort ; bat Fearing dreaded sin, and coming short of heaven, more than all that flesh could do unto him. He was alarmed more at the fear of being overcome by temptation, than from a reluctance to undergo derision or persecution. The peculiarity of this description of Christians must be traced back to consti- tution, habit, first impressions, disproportionate and partial views of truth, and improper instructions; these, concurring with weakness of faith, and the common infirmities of human nature, give a cast to their experience aud character, which renders them uncomfortable to themselves, and troublesome to others. Yet no competent judges doubt that they have the root of the matter iu them ; and none arc more entitled to the patient, sympathizing, and tender attention of ministers and Christians. — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 213 Great-tie art. I perceive you knew hini ; for you Lave given a very right character of him. Hon. Knew him ! I was a great companion of his; I was with him most an end; when he first began to think of what would come upon us here- after, I was with him. Great-heart. I was his guide from my Master's house to the gates of the Celestial City. IIox. Then you knewhim to he a trouhlesomeone. GREAT-nEART. I did so, but I could very well bear it ; for men of my calling are oftentimes intrusted with the conduct of such as he was. Hon. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed himself under your conduct. Great-heart. Why, he was always afraid that „ ^ . , he should come short of whither he had Mr. Fennns s . . . . troublesome a desire to go. Everything frightened pi grimace. ^.^ ^at ^e heard anybody speak of, that had but the least appearance of opposition in „. u^. it. I hear that he lay roaring at the His l>eliaviour * ° at the Slough Slough of Despond for about a month together ; nor durst he, for all he saw several go over before him, venture, though they, many of them, offered to lend him their hand. He would not go back again neither.1 The Celestial City, he said, he should die if he came not to it ; and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and stum- bled at every straw that anybody cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the Slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshine morning, I do not know how, he ventured, and so got over ; but when he was over, he would scarce believe it. He had, I think, a Slough of Despond in his miud ; a slough that he carried everywhere with him, or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate, you know what I mean, that stands at the head of this way ; and there His behariour also he stood a good while, before he at the gate. wouhd adventure to knock. When the gate was opened, he would give back, and give place to others, and say that he was not wortby. For, for all he got before some to the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would stand, shaking and shrinking. I dare say, it would have pitied one's heart to have seen him; nor would he go back again. At last, he took the hammer that hanged on the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two; then one opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that opened stepped out after him, and said, Thou trembliug one, what wantest thou ? With that he 1 "We cannot but admire the variety of experiences introduced into the Pilgrim's Progress. Many have died remarkably happy in the Lord, who, till very near their last moments, have been in bondage through the fear of death. We may be 6ure of this, that wherever the Lord has begun a work, he will carry it on to the great decisive day. The proof of this is ' he would not go back!' ' If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed.' — (J. 13.) fell down to the ground, lie that spoke to him wondered to sec him so faint. So he said to him, Peace he to thee ; up, for I have set open the door to thee. Come in, for thou art blessed. With that he got up, and went in trembling; and when he was in, he was ashamed to show his face. Well, after he had been entertained there a while, as you know how the manner is, he was hid go on his way, and also told the way he should take. So he came till he came to our house. But as he behaved himself at the gate, so he did nis bclnvi( at my master the Interpreter's door. «t the [uter- He lay thereabout in the cold a good prc l while, before he would adventure to call ; yet he would not go back, and the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my master, to receive him and grant him the comfort of his house, and also to allow hira a stout and valiant conductor, because he was him- self so chicken-hearted a man ; and yet, for all that, he was afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man! he was almost starved. Yea, so great was his dejection, that though he saw several others, for knocking, get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I think, I looked out of the window, and perceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I went out to him, and asked what he was ; but, poor man ! the water stood in his eyes ; so I perceived what he wanted. I went, therefore, in and told it in the house, and we showed the tiling to our Lord. So he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in ; but, I dare say, I had hard work to do it. At last he came in ; and I will IIow he wm say that for my Lord, he carried it entertained wonderfully lovingly to him. There were but a few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid upon his trencher. Then he pre- sented the note, and my Lord looked thereon, and said his desire should be granted. So, when he had been there a good while, he seemed He is a little to get some heart, and to be a little ^Yrut^re- more comfortable ; for my master, ter'8 House. you must know, is one of very tender bowels, espe- cially to them that are afraid ; wherefore he carried it so towards him, as might tend most to his encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfortable things to eat. Thus we set forward, and 1 went before him ; but the man was but of few words, only he would sigh aloud. When we were come to where the three fellows were handed, he said that he doubted He m greatly , , , , . , , .-. i alraid when lie that that would be Ins end also. Unly »wthegibbetj he seemed glad when he saw the Cross ^«^w * u£ and the Sepulchre. There, I confess, Cm* 214 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. he desired to stay a little to look, and he seemed, for a while after, to be a little cheery. When we came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions ; for you must know that his trouble was not about such things as those ; his fear was about his acceptance at last.1 I got him in at the House Beautiful, I think, Dumpish at Dei"ore ne was willing. Also, when the House he was in, I brought him acquainted Beautiful with the damsels that were of the place ; but he was ashamed to make himself much for company. He desired much to be alone, yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it. He also loved much to see ancient things, and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me afterwards that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came last, to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter, but that he durst not be so bold to ask. When we went also from the House Beautiful, ± , down the hill, into the Valley of Hu- He went down ..... . « into, and was miliation, he went down as well as in,r\heP Valley ever I saw man m my life 5 for he tfon Huuuliil" cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think, there was a kind of a sympathy betwixt that valley and him ; for I never saw him better in all his pilgrimage than when he was in that valley.2 Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. La. iii 27-29. He would now be up every morning by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro in this valley. But when he was come to the entrance of the Much perplexed Valley of the Shadow of Death, I of tlufshadow thought I should have lost my man ; of Death. not for tjiat he ^d anj inclination to go back ; that he always abhorred ; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh ! the hobgoblins will have me ! the hobgoblins will have me ! cried he ; and I could not beat him out on it. He made such a noise, and such an outcry here, that, had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon us.3 1 See all through this character, what a conflict there was between fear, and the influence of grace. Though it may not be the most comfortable, yet the end of Mr. Fearing was very joyful. 0 what a godly jealousy displayed itself all through his life! Better this, than strong, vain-glorious confidence. The Valley of Humiliation suits well with fearin"- hearts — (Mason.) 2 When persons are naturally fearful and low-spirited, it will be fouud, notwithstanding the courage and comfort they sometimes are favoured with, that the constitutional bias of their tempers and dispositions will discover itself, more or less, all through their pilgrimage. Thus there is a kind of sympathy between Fearing and the Valley of Humiliation, which seems congenial to him. — (J. B.) s O what a time of need is the day of death, when I am to pack up all, to be gone from hence ; now a man grows near the borders of eternity; he sees into the skirts of the next world. But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as quiet while he went through it, as ever I knew it before or 3ince. I suppose these enemies here had now a special check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over it. It would be too tedious to tell you of all. We will, therefore, only mention a passage or two more. When he was come at Vanity Fair, I Hi8 behaviour thought he would have fought with all «* Vanity Fair. the men at the fair. I feared there we should both have been knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries.4 Upon the Enchanted Ground, he was also very wakeful. But when he was come at the river, where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said, he should be drowned for ever, and so never see that face with comfort that he had come so many miles to behold. And here, also, I took notice of what was very remarkable ; the water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life. So he went over at last, not much above wet-shod.5 When he was going up to the gate, Mr. Great-heart began to take his leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above. So he said, I shall, I shall. Then parted we asunder, and His boldness a» I saw him no more. last- Hon. Then, it seems, he was well at last. Great-heart. Yes, yes ; I never had doubt about him ; he was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made hi3 life so burdensome to himself, and so troublesome to others. Fs. lxxxviii. He was, above many, tender of sin. He was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he often would deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend. Ro. iiv. 21. 1 Co. viii. 13. Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all his days so much in the dark?6 Now death is death, and the grave the grave indeed. Has he laid up grace for this day, while cold death strokes his hand over his face, and over his heart, and is turning his blood into jelly ; while strong death is loosing his silver cord, and breaking his golden bowl ? — Banyan's Saints' Privilege, vol. i. p. 678. Can a great-hearted saint wonder that Mr. Fearing was at his wit's end? — (Ed.) 4 Here is a glorious display of a fearing heart. Full of courage against evil, and fired with zeal for God's glory. — (Mason.) b O how gracious is our Lord ! as thy day is, O Pilgrim, so shall thy strength be. Even the river of death, though there can be no bridge to go over, yet faith makes one; and the Lord of faith makes the waters low, to suit the state of bis beloved ones. — (Mason.) 6 We know the least appearance of a sin better by its native hue, than we know a grace of the Spirit. Sin is sooner felt in its bitterness upon a sanctified soul than is the grace of God. Sin is dreadful and murderous in the sight of a sanc- tified soul. Grace lies deep in the hidden part, but sin floats above in the flesh, and is easier seen. Grace as to quantity, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 215 Great-heart. There are two sorts of reasons Reasons why ^or li : ^ne 1S' ^ie w's0 ^0(* w'^ nave irood men are it so ; some must pipe, and some must so in the dark. >t nr -n weep. Mut «. 16-is. Now Mr. r earing was one that played upon this bass; he and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than the notes of other music are ; though, indeed, some say the bass is the ground of music. And, for my part, I care not at all for that pro- fession that begins not in heaviness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches is the bass, when he intends to put all in tune. God also plays upon this string first, when he sets the soul in tune for himself. Only here was the imperfec- tion of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon no other music but this, till towards his latter end.1 I make hold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the wits of young readers; and because, in the book of the Revelations, the saved are com- pared to a company of musicians that play upon their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne. Re. viiL 2 ; xiv. 2, 3. Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what relation you have given of him ; diffi- culties, lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at all. It was only sin, death, and hell that was to him a terror, because he had some doubts about his interest in that celestial country.2 Great-heart. You say right. Those were the a close about things that were his troublers, and Lim- they, as you have well observed, arose from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a pilgrim's life. I dare believe that, as the proverb is, ' he could have bit a firebrand, had it stood in his way;' but the things with which he was op- pressed, no man ever yet could shake off with ease. Christ. Then said Christiana, This relation of Christiana's ^r- Fearing has done me good. I sentence, thought nobody had been like me; but I see there was some semblance betwixt this seems less than sin. 'What is leaven, or a grain of mustard sired, to the bulky lump of a body of death ? It is a rare thing (or some Christians to see their graces, but a thing very com- mon for such to see their sins, to the shaking of their souls. — (Banyan's JUtsire of the Righteous, vol. i. p. 755.) 1 This is an every-day character in the church, delicately and accurately drawn, a man, as Mr. Ivimey says, that ' carried the Slough of Despoud in his mind everywhere with him,' not from the difficulties of the way, nor the frowns of the world, but from doubts lest sin, death, and hell, should prevail over them. They walk safely, however sorrowfully; and seldom give the enemy an occasion to rejoice. — (Ed.) - lkre is a very striking lesson for professors. Talk not of your great knowledge, rich experience, comfortable frames, and joyful feelings; all are vain and delusive, if the gospel has not a holy iullucuce upon your practice. On the other hand, be not dejected if you are not favoured with these; for if a holy fear of God, and a godly jealousy over yourselves, possess your heart, verily you are a partake! of the grace of Christ. — vMason.) good man and I ; only we differed in two things: His troubles were so great, they break out ; but mine I kept within. His, also, lay so hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for entertainment ; but my trouble was always such as made me knock the louder. Mercy. If I might also speak my heart, I must say, that something of him has also Mercy*» dwelt in me; for I have ever been wntence. more afraid of the lake, and the loss of a place in Paradise, than I have been of the loss of other things. 0, thought I, may I have the happiness to have a habitation there, it is enough, though I part with all the world to win it ! Matt. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was far Matthew's from having that within me that ac- sc"lcnce- companies salvation ; but if it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me ? James. No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always grace where there James's is the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, ■■■*«»■ there is no grace where there is no fear of God.3 Great-heart. Well said, James, thou hast hit the mark ; for the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom ; and, to be sure, they that want the be- ginning, have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell. Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, and wast afraid Of doing anything, while here, that woidd have thee bctray'd. Their Earcwc-tl And didst thou fear the lake and pit ? »•">»< >»"1- Would others did so too 1 For, as for them that want thy wit, They do themselves undo.4 3 Hatred to sin can only arise from the love of God. In vain do men think of deterring others from sin, or driving them to duty by low terrors, or low requirements, 'the strong man armed will keep his palace, till a stronger than he cometh and taketh from him the armour whereiu he trusted. But herein they err, not knowing the Scriptures, which set forth love as the constraining motive to true obedience. — (J. J3.) 4 Christians who resemble Fearing, are greatly retarded in their progress by discouraging apprehensions ; they arc apt to spend too much time in unavailing complaints ; yet they cannot think of giving up their feeble hopes, or of returning to their forsaken worldly pursuits and pleasures. They are indeed helped forward, through the mercy of God, in a very extraor- dinary manner; yet they still remain exposed to alarms and discouragements, in every stage of their pilgrimage. They arc afraid even of relying on Christ for salvation, because they have not distinct views of his love, and the methods of his grace; and imagine some other qualitication to be nei besides the willingness to seek, knock, and a>k for the pro- mised blessings, with a real desire of obtaining them. They imagine, that' there has been something is their past life, or tbat there is some peculiarity in their present habits, and way of applying to Christ, which may exclude them from the benefit: so that they pray with diffidence; and, being eon- 216 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now I saw, that they still went on in their talk ; for after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. LTonest began to tell them of Of Mr Self will anotuer> ^ut I"3 name was ^T. Self- will. He pretended himself to he a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest ; but I persuade myself he never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the way. Great-heart. Had you ever any talk with him about it ? Hon. Yes, more than once or twice ; but he nnn . . , would always be like himself, self- OUl Honest had TT J . ' talked with willed. He neither cared tor man, nor argument, nor yet example ; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and nothing else could he be got to. Great-heart. Pray, what principles did he hold ? for I suppose you can tell. Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices Seif-wiii's as well as, the virtues of the pilgrims ; opinions. an(i that if he did botll) he shoul(1 be certainly saved. Great-heart. How! if he had said, It is pos- sible for the best to be guilty of the vices, as well as to partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed ; for indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive.1 But this, I perceive, is not the thing ; but if I understand you right, your meaning is, that he was of that opinion, that it was allowable so to be. Hon. Aye, aye, so I mean ; and so he believed and practised. Great-heart. But what ground had he for his so saying? Hon. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant. Great-heart. Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars. Hon. So I will. He said, To have to do with other men's wives, had been practised by David, sciously unworthy, can hardly believe that the Lord will grant their requests. They are also prone to overlook the most decisive evidences of their reconciliation to God; and to per- severe in arguing with perverse ingenuity against their own manifest happiness. The same mixture of humility and un- belief renders persons of this description backward in asso- ciating with their brethren, and iu frequenting those companies in which they might obtain further instruction ; for they are afraid of being considered as believers, or even serious inquirers; so that ali'ectiouate and earnest persuasion is requisite to prevail with them to join in those religious exercises, by which Christians especially receive the teaching of the Holy Spirit. Vet this arises not from disinclination, but diffidence; and though they are often peculiarly favoured with seasons of great comfort, to counterbalance their dejections, yet they never hear or read of those who ' have drawn back to perdition,' but they are terrified with the idea that they shall shortly resemble them ; so that every warning given against hypocrisy or self-deception seems to point them out by name, and every new discovery of any fault or mistake in their views, temper, God's beloved ; and therefore he could do it. Ke said, To have more women than one, was a thing that Solomon practised ; and therefore he could do it. He said, That Sarah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did saved Rahab ; and there- fore he could do it. He said, That the disciples went at the bidding of their Master, and took away the owner's ass ; and therefore he could do so too. He said, That Jacob got the inheritance of his father in a way of guile and dissimulation ; and therefore he could do so too.2 Great-heart. Highly base ! indeed. And you are sure he was of this opinion ? Hon. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scrip- ture for it, bring argument for it, &c. Great-heart. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the world. Hon. You must understand me rightly. He did not say that any man might do this ; but that those that had the virtues of those that did such things, might also do the same. Great-heart. But what more false than such a conclusion ? for this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of iu- firmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind ; or if, because a child by the blast of the wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down, and defiled itself in mire, therefore ho might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. Who could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust ? But what is written must be true : They ' stumble at the word, being disobedient ; where- unto also they were appointed.' 1 Pe. u. 8. His supposing that such may have the godly men's virtues, who addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as strong as the other. It is just as if the dog should say, I have, or may have, the qualities of the child, because I lick up its stinking excrements. To eat up the sin of God's people, is no sign of one that is possessed with or conduct, seems to decide their doom. At the same time, they are often remarkably melted into humble, admiring grati- tude, by contemplating the love aud sufferings of Christ, and seem to delight in hearing of that subject above all others. They do not peculiarly fear difficulties, self-denial, reproaches, or persecution, which deter numbers from making au open profession of religion j and yet they are more backward in this respect than others, because they deem themselves unworthy to be admitted to such privileges aud iuto such society, or else are apprehensive of being finally separated from them or becoming a disgrace to religion. — (Scott.) 1 This is a solid, scriptural definition; pray mind it. Here conditions may safely be admitted; and happy is the Christian who keeps closest to these conditions, in order to enjoy peace of conscience, and joy of heart in Christ. — (Mason.) 2 That heart, which is under the teaching and influence of the grace of God, will detect such horrid notions, and cry out against them. God forbid that ever I shoidd listen one mo- ment to such diabolical sentiments! for they are hatched in hell, and propagated on earth, by the father of lies. — (Mason.) THE riLGRIM'S TROGRESS. 217 their virtues, no. ir. 8. Korean I believe, that one that is of this opinion, can at present have faith or love in him. But 1 know you have made strong objections against him; prithee, what can h I keep; and then thou mayesl say with comfort, Well, tl is over; my soul is safe; the thieves, if they meet me, come at that ; God will keep it to my joy and comfort at the great day.— (Banyan's Advice to Sufferers, vol. ii. p. 701.) u The spiritual refreshment, arising from experimental sation, seems to be especially intended , but the name < suggests also the importance of the apostle's exhortatio hospitality without judging.' Thisought to h strangers if they are certified to us as brethren m i (Scott.) Every Christ ian'a house should, so far as ability be an inn for the refreshment of weary tellou -pilgrims.— (i^D.j 23 213 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Gaius's Cook. to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called They enter into f°r the master of the house, and he his house. came t0 them> So they asked if they might lie there that night. Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if ye be true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims. Then was Gains entertains Christiana, Mercy, and the boys, the them.andhow. more gia(^ for that ti,e lnn_keeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they called for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and her children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great- heart and the old gentleman. Great-heart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gaius, what hast thou for supper? for these pil- grims have come far to-day, and are weary. Gaius. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot con- veniently go out to seek food ; but such as we have, you shall be welcome to, if that will content.1 Great-heart. We will be content with what thou hast in the house; forasmuch as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so many pil- grims. Thi3 done, he comes up again, saying, Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you ; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good discourse. So they all said, Content. „, „ . , Gaius. Then said Gaius, Whose Talk between Gaius and Ids wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter is this young damsel. Great-heart. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a Pilgrim of former times ; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance ; one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps ; yea, if they do but see any place where the old Pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it ministereth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. Gaius. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian's wife? and are these Christian's children? I knew your husband's father, yea, also his father's father. Many have been good of this stock ; their ancestors Of Christian's dwelt first at Alltioch. Ac. xi. 2G. Chris- ancestors, tian's progenitors (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage, for the Lord of the Pilgrims, his ways, and them that 1 This character is drawn from that of the well-beloved Gaius, in the third epistle of John. Although, in comparison with the great bulk of Christians, there are but few such in the church ; yet in all ages, and in most churches, some hospitable Gaius is to be found. May their numbers be greatly increased. — (Ed.) Mark this. loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations, that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen, that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones. Ac. vii. 59, 60. James, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword. Ac. xn. 2. To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions ;2 Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones, and Polycarp, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun, for the wasps to eat ; and he who they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea to be drowned. It would be utterly impossible to count up all of that family that have suffered injuries and death, for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad, to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's name, and tread in their father's steps, and come to their father's end. Great-heart. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads ; they seem to choose heartily their father's ways. Gaius. That is it that I said ; wherefore Chris- tian's family is like still to spread . , . x „, . J r Advice to Chris- abroad upon the face of the ground, tiana about her and yet to be numerous upon the face oy°' of the earth ; wherefore, let Christiana look out some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, The more he cast away, the more he had. Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gaius would say ; so he sat still awhile, and then thus replied: — He that bestows his goods upon the poor, aius opens 1 . g^ j^yg as mucn again, and ten times more. Joseph Then said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did wonders. no^ thjnk y0U could have found it out. Oh ! said Gaius, I have heen trained up in this way a great while; nothing teaches like experience; I have learned of my Lord to he kind ; and have found hy experience, that I have gained thereby. 1 There is that scattered), and yet incrcaseth ; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet ; hut it tendcth to poverty. Pr. xi. 24. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing ; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.' 1 Pr. xni. 7. Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, and said, Mother, this is a very good man's house, let us stay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to Mercy, before we go any further.3 The which Gaius the host overhearing, said, With a very good will, my child. ,. ... , So they staid there more than a Matthew and J . Mercy aremar- month, andMercywas given to Matthew riud. .,. to wife. While they staid here, Mercy, as her custom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon the Pilgrims.3 But to return again to our story. After supper _,, . . the lads desired a bed ; for that they The hoys go to » J bed, the rest were weary with travelling : then Gaius called to show them their cham- ber; but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. So she had them to bed, and they slept well ; but the rest sat up all night ; for Gaius and they were such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part. Then after much talk of their Lord, „,,„ , themselves, and their journey, old Old Honest nods. -, TT . , J . , , Mr. Honest, he that put forth the riddles, to teach important truth in a way calculated to he impressed on the memory. Thus, in the treatise on the Cove- nants of the Law and Grace, the second Adam was before the first, and also the second covenant before the first. This is a riddle. — (Vol. ii. p. 524.) — (Ed.) Observe here, the feast of pilgrims was attended with mirth. Christians have the greatest reason to be merry ; but then it ought to be spiritual mirth, which springs from spiritual views and spiritual conversation. — (Mason.) 1 When Christian intercourse is conducted with gravity and cheerfulness united, it is both pleasant and instructive. Speech should be ' always with grace, seasoned with salt, that it may minister grace to the hearers,' and thus ' provoke one another unto love, and to good works ;' thus are the young encouraged to follow that which is good. — (Ivimey.) 2 Here is a genuine discovery of a gracious heart when it riddle to Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great- heart, What, Sir, you begin to be drowsy ; come, rub up ; now here is a riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. Then said Mr. Great-heart, He that will kill, must first be overcome, "Who live abroad would, first must die at home. n °" Ha ! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one, hard to expound, and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said he, I will, if you please, leave my part to you ; do you expound it, and I will hear what you say. No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is expected that you should answer it. Then said the old gentleman, He first by grace must conquer'd be, That sin would mortify ; T]ie ri(idJe And who, that lives, would convince me, opened. Unto himself must die.4 It is right, said Gaius ; good doctrine and expe- rience teaches this. For, first, until grace dis- plays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory, it is altogether without heart to oppose sin ; be- sides, if sin is Satan's cords, by which the soul lies bound, how should it make resistance, before it is loosed from that infirmity? Secondly, nor will any, that knows either reason or grace, believe that such a man can be a living monument of grace that is a slave to his own corruptions. And now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story worth the hearing. There were . ,. two men that went on pilgrimage ; the worth the one began when he was young, the other when he was old. The young man had strong corruptions to grapple with ; the old man's wero decayed with the decays of nature. The young man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as light as he. Who now, or which of them, had their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike ? Hon. The young man's, doubtless. For that which heads it against the greatest . , - , . A comparison. opposition, gives best demonstration that it is strongest ; especially when it also holdeth is delighted with spiritual company and conversation, and longs for its continuance. Is it so with you ? — (Mason.) 3 If our love to sinners be only shown by seeking their spiritual good, it will be considered as a bigoted desire to proselyte them to our sect ; but uniform diligent endeavours to relieve their temporal wants are intelligible to every man, and bring a good report on the profession of the gospel. Mat. v. 16.— (Scott.) 4 0, this dying to self, to self-righteous pride, vain confid- ence, self-love, and self-complacency, is hard work to the old man ; yea, it is both impracticable and impossible to him. It is only grace that can conquer and subdue him; and where grace reigns, this work is carried on day by day. And yet the old man of siu, and self-righteousnes?, still lives in us: — (Mason.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 221 pace with that that meets not with half so nrach ; as, to he sure, old age does not.1 Besides, I have observed that old men have blessed themseltJS with this mistake, namely, taking the decajS of nature for a gracious conquest over corruptions, ami so have been apt to beguile themselves. Indeed, old men that are gracious, are best able to give advice to them that are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness of things. But yet, for an old and a young [man] to set out both together, tin' young one has the advantage of the fairest dis- covery of a woik of grace within him, though the old man's corruptions are naturally the weakest. Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, when the family was up, Christiana bid her son James that he should read a chapter; so he read the fifty-third of Isaiah. "When he had done, Another quts- ^r- Honest asked, why it was said lluu- that the Saviour is said to come ' out of a dry ground ; ' and also, that ' he had no form or comeliness in him ? ' Great-heart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first, I answer, Because the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. To the second, I say, The words are spoken in the person of the unbelievers, who, because they want that eye that can see into our Prince's heart, therefore they judge of him by the meanness of his outside. Just like those that know not that precious stones are covered over with a homely crust ; who, when they have found one, because they know not what they have found, cast it again away, as men do a common stone. Well, said Gaius, now you are here, and since, as 1 know, Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good.-' About a mile from hence, there is one Slay- good, a giant that does much annoy the King's highway in these parts ; and I know whereabout Giant Slay-good his haunt is; IIe.is niaster of a assaulted nwi number of thieves ; it would be well if we could clear these parts of him. 1 Old age affords advantage in overcoming some propensi- ties, yet habits of indulgence often counterbalance the decays of nature ; and avarice, suspicion, and peevishness, with other t\il-, gather strength as men advance in years. Some old men may imagine that they have renounced sin, because they are no longer capable of committing the crimes in which they once lived. — (Scott.) * The refreshment of Divine consolations, and Chilian fellowship, is intended to prepare us tor vigorously maintaining the good fight of faith ; not only against the enemies of our own souls, but also against the opposers of our most holy religion. We are soldiers, and should unite together under the Captain of Salvation, to contend for the faith once delivered to the saints, by every method authorized by the Word of God ; nor must we shrink from danger and contumely in so good a cause. — (Scott.,) So they consented, and went, Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves/' When they came to the place where he was, they found him with one Feeble-mind in his He is found with hands, whom his servants had brought 5nmd ^JjJ unto him, having taken him in the ,'""1- way. Now the giant was rifling him, with a pur- pose, after that, to pick his hones, for he was of the nature of flesh-eaters. Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted. Great-heart. We want thee; for we are come to revenge the quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, when thou hast dragged them out of the King's highway; wherefore, come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out ; and to a battle they went, and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind. Slay. Then said the giant, Why are you hero on my ground ? Great-heart. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, as I also told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give back ; but he came up again, and, in the greatness of his mind, he let fly with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand ; so he smote him, and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. lie also took Feeble- 0 y . , mind, the pilgrim, and brought him mind rescued .... . i • l i • Tim Ai faun the giant. with nun to Ins lodgings. \\ lien they were come home, they showed his head to the family, and then set it up, as they had done others before, for a terror to those that shall attempt to do as he hereafter.4 Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his hands ? Feeble-mind. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see; and, hecause How Feeb!c_ death did usually once a day knock at mind ^me to my door, I thought I should never be L a °r well at home ; so I betook myself to a pilgrim'.-, life, and have travelled hither from the town of 3 It may be asked, how far it is right to expose ourselves to danger and difficulties, since it is rashness, not courage, to expose ourselves to unnecessary danger, or to give unnecessary offence. I would auswer, It can never be improper t error, or oppose a prevailing vice, by which God's children are in danger of being beguiled.— (J. B.) 4 Giant Slay-good represents a wicked, cruel man — a mere cannibal, invested with judicial authority — a selfish, malignant persecutor, who intimidated feeble-minded professors by fines ami imprisonments, to the hazard of their souls. By the thieves, of whom he was master, wore perhaps intended the common informers, who got their living by giving evidence against Nonconformists; some cruel magistrates pursued them to death. The attack was by scriptural and rational argu- ments, which led to a great alteration in these accursed laws. — (Ivimey and bcott.J 222 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Uncertain, where I and my father were horn. I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind ; hut would, if I could, though I can hut craw], spend my life in the pilgrim's way.1 When 1 came at the gate that is at the head of the way, the Lord of that place did entertain me freely ; neither ohjected he against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind; but gave me such things that were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there ; and because the Hill Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, though none were willing to go so softly as I am forced to do ; yet still, as tbey came on, tbey bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was the will of their Lord that comfort sbould be given to the feeble-minded, and so went on their own pace, l Th. v. u. When I was come up to Assault Lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter ; but, alas ! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial. So he came up and took me. I conceited he should not kill me. Also, when he had got me into his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I should come out alive again ; for I have heard, that not any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps beart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of Providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Robbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am ; but I am, as you see, escaped with life ; for the which I thank my King as author, and you as the means. Other brunts I also look for ; but this I have resolved on, to wit, to run when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I thank him that loves me, I am fixed. My way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind.2 Hon. Then said old Mr. Honest, Have you not, 1 All pilgrims are not alike vigorous, strong, and lively ; Borne are weak, creep and crawl on, in the ways of the Lord. No matter, if there be but a pilgrim's heart, all shall be well 3t last ; for Omnipotence itself is for us, and then we may boldly ask, ' Who shall be against us?' — (Mason.) Constitu- tional timidity and lowness of spirits, arising from a feeble frame, give a peculiar cast to the views and nature of religious profession, which unfits for hard and perilous service. The difference between Feeble-mind and Fearing seems to be this — the former was more afraid of opposition, and the latter more doubtful about the event, which perhaps may intimate, that Slay-good rather represents persecutors than deceivers. — (Scott.) 2 What a sweet simple relation is here I Doth it not suit many a feeble mind ? Poor soul, weak as he was, yet his Lord pro- vided against his danger. He sent some strong ones to his deliverance, and to slay his enemy. Mind his belief, even in bis utmost extremity. Learn somewhat from this Feeble- suiud. — (Mason.) some time ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fear- ing, a pilgrim. Feeble. Acquainted with him ! Yes ; he came from the town of Stupidity, which MrFearing Mr. lieth four degrees to the northward of Feeble-mind's the City of Destruction, and as many off of where I was horn ; yet we were well ac- quainted, for, indeed, he was my uncle, my father's brother. He and I have been much of a temper. He was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complexion. Hon. I perceive you know him ; and I am apt to believe also, that you were related Feeble-mind has one to another; for you have his ring's let whitely look, a cast like his with your tmes- eye, and your speech is much alike. Feeble. Most have said so that have known us both ; and besides, what I have read in him, I have, for the most part, found in myself. Gaids. Come, Sir, said good Gaius, be of good cheer, you are welcome to me, and to Gams comforts my house, and what thou hast a mind Uim- to, call for freely ; and what thou wouldest have my servants do for thee, they will do it with a ready mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is unexpected favour, and as the sun shinino; out of „ .. . , ' o Notice to be a very dark cloud. Did Giant Slay- taken of Pro- good intend me this favour when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further ? Did he intend, that after he had rifled my pockets, I should go to Gaius, mine host ? Yet so it is.3 Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, there comes one running, TMingsIl0W0ne and called at the door, and told that, Not-right was , ., i i ir> «. i sIain Wlt" u about a mile and a half off, there was thunderbolt, one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck mind's 6comI dead upon the place where he was ment upon it. with a thunder-holt.4 Feeble. Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He overtook me some clays before I came so far as hither, and would be my company-keeper. He also was with me when Slay-good, the giant, took me ; but he was nimble of his heels, and escaped. But, it seems, he escaped to die, and I was took to live.5 3 0 how sweet to reflect, that the most gigantic enemies shall be conquered, and their most malicious designs be overruled for our good ; yea, what they intend for our ruin shall be made to work for our health and prosperity. — (Mason.) 4 ' Whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.' Mat. xvi. 25. — (Ed.) Here is a contrast between a feeble believer and a specious hypocrite ; the latter eludes persecutions by time-serving, yet perishes in his sins ; the former suffers and trembles, yet hopes to be delivered and comforted. The frequency with which this is introduced, and the variety of characters by which it is illustrated, show us how important the author deemed such warnings. — (Scott.) 6 Events, which at first appear big with misery and mis- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 223 What, one would think, doth seek to slay outright, Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight. That very providence, whose face is death, Doth ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath. I taken was, he did escape and flee; Hands cross'd gives death to him, and life to me. Now, about this time, Matthew and Mercy wore married, Also Gains gave Iris daughter Fhelie to James, Matthew's brother, to wife ; after which time thej vet staid above ten days at Gains' house, spending their time, and the seasons, like as pil- grims used to do.1 When they were to depart, Gains made them a „.. . feast, and they did eat and drink, and The Pilgrims J prepare logo were merry. Now the hour was come that they must be gone ; wherefore, Mr. Great-heart called for a reckoning ; but Gaius told him, that at his house it was not the custom for pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He TT .. . boarded them by the year, but looked How thev greet J r< one another at for his pay from the good Samaritan, who had promised him, at his return, whatsoever charge he was at with them, faithfully to repay him. i.u. x. 34, 35. Then said Mr. Great- heart to him, Great-heart. ' Beloved, thou dost faithfully whatsoever thou dost to the brethren, and to strangers ; which have borne witness of thy charity before the church ; whom if thou (yet) bring for- ward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well.' 3 Jn. 5, 6. Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and of Gaius hi last ms children, and particularly of Mr. kindness to Feeble - mind. He also gave him something to drink by the way. Now Mr. Feeble-nrind, when they were going out of the door, made as if he intended to linger ; the which when Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us, I will be your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest. Feeble. Alas! I want a suitable companion; Feeble-mind for you are all lusty and strong ; but I, going behind. as y0U sec> am wea]j . j CU00Se, there- fore, rather to come behind, lest, by reason of my many infirmities, I should be both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and fcrtune, have been found afterwards to have been as so many dark passages, to lead into brighter and more glorious displays of the Divine power, wisdom, and goodness. — (J. 15.) 1 ' Marriage is honourable iu all ;' nor will Christian females find such a state any hinder:: nee to theii abounding iu works of charity and mercy. By fulfilling the duties of the married life, they "ill cause the ways of God to be well spoken of. The desire of Paul was, 'That the younger women many, be sober, love their husbands, love their children, be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the "Word of God be not blasphemed.' Tit. ii. -1, 5. — (Ivimey.) made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no laughing ; I shall like no gay attire ; I shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay, 1 am so weak a man, as to be offended with that which others have liberty to do. I do not , ,, , 1 t Hiscxcusi'forit. yet know all the truth ; I am a very ignorant Christian man ; sometimes, if I hear aomo rejoice iu the Lord, it troubles me, because I can- not do so too. It is with me, as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a lamp despised ('He that is ready to slip with his feet, is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at case ; Job xti. 0), so that T know not what to do.2 Great-heart. But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have it in commission to 'comfort the Great-heart's feeble-minded,' and to ' support the connisaton. weak.' iTh. v. 14. You must needs go along with us; we will wait fur you ; we will lend you our help, Ro. xiv. 1 ; we will deny ourselves of some things, both opinionative and practical, for your sake, 1 Co. vid., we will not enter into doubtful disputa- tions before you ; we will be made all things to you, rather than you shall be left behind.3 1 Co. fct 23. Now all this while they were at Gaius's door; and behold, as they were thus in the A Christian heat of their discourse, Mr. Ready-to- 6pmt" halt came by, with his crutches* in his * rromises. hand, rs. xxxviii. 17 ; and he also was going on pil- grimage. Feeble. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, Man, How earnest thou hither ? I was ... . ' • • 1 t 1 i EeeDle-minuglau but iust now complaining, that I had toseeKeady-to. 0 .,1 ■ t . . 1 .. halt come by. not a suitable companion, but thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt, I hope thee and I may be some help. READY-TO-nALT. I shall be glad of thy company, said the other ; and good Mr. Feeble-nrind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches.4 Feeble. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy goodwill, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. Howbcit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog.5 2 "What an open, ingenuous confession is here! though feeble in mind, he was strong iu wisdom and sound judgment. — (.Mason.) Woe be to those who offend one of these little ones ; no less dear to God than the most eminent and dis- tinguished saints. — (J. B.) a O that this were more practised anions: Christians of dif- ferent standings, degrees, and judgments ! If they who are strong were thus to bear with the weak, as they ought, how much more love, peace, and unanimity would prevail ! — (Mason.) 4 Excellent ! See the nature of Christian love ; even to be ready to spare to a brother, what we ourselves have occasion for. Love looketh not at the things of our own, but to pro- vide for the wants of others. — 1 M 6 The character of r'eeble-mind scims to coincide, in some things, with that of Tearing:, and in others with the description £24 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ready. If either myself or my crutches can do tliee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good Mr. Feeble-mind. Thus therefore they went on ; Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Peady-to-halt, came behind with his crutches.1 Then said Mr. Honest, Hon. Pray, Sir, now we are upon the road, tell us some profitable things of some that New talk. . ., . "" , c have gone on pilgrimage beiore us. Great-heart. With a good will. I suppose you First Part, have heard how Christian of old did P-m- meet with Apollyon in the Valley of Humiliation ; and also what hard work he had, to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also I think you cannot but have heard how Faith- ful was put to it with Madam Wanton, with Adam the first, with one Discontent, and Shame, four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road. Hon. Yes, I have heard of all this ; but indeed, good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame ; lie was an unwearied one. Great-heart. Aye; for, as the Pilgrim well said, lie of all men had the wrong name. Hon. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian First Part, ana< Faithful met Talkative? That p- V2°- same was also a notable one. Great-heart. He was a confident fool, yet many follow his ways. Hon. He had like to have beguiled Faithful. Great-heart. Aye, but Christian put him into a First Part, way quickly to find him out. Thus p. 123. tney went on till they came at the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them of what should befall them at Vanity Fair. Great-heart. Then said their guide, Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophesied to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity Fair. Hon. Say you fo? 1 dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did read unto them.2 of Little-faith. Constitutional timidity and lowness of spirits, arising from a feeble frame, and frequent sickness, while they are frequently the means of exciting men to religion, give also a peculiar east to their views and the nature of their profession — tend to hold them under perpetual discouragements, and unfit them for hard and perilous services. '1 his seems implied in the name given to the native place of Feeble-mind ; yet tins is often connected with evident sincerity, and remarkable perseverance in the ways of God. — (Scott.) 1 Here, very ingeniously, an associate is found for poor Feeble-mind; in one equally weak, lame, and limping iu his religious sentiments, who, instead of forming his own senti- ments from the Word of Truth, leant upon the sentiments and opinions of others. The hesitation of Feeble-mind to accept one of his crutches, is humourously conceived. He would, weak as he was, think for himself; though he had no objection to quote the opinion of another Christian against an Great-heart. It was so; but he gave thern encouragement withal. But what do j'irstPart, we talk of them ? they were a couple P- 13°- of lion-like men ; they had set their faces like flint. Don't you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge? Hon. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. Great-heart. So he did, and as brave things came on it ; for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates it, were converted by his death. Hon. Well, but pray go on ; for you are well acquainted with things. Great-heart. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity rirst part Fair, one By-ends was the arch one. P- V6~- Hon. By-ends ! What was he ? Great-heart. A very arch fellow ; a downright hypocrite. One that would be religious which way ever the world went; but so cunning, that he would be sure neither to lose nor suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion ; and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and change from opinion to opinion ; yea, and plead for so doing too. But, so far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends ; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God. Now, by this time, they were come within sight of the town of Vanity, where Vanity T, -' ' « lney are come Fair is kept. So, when they saw that within sight of they were so near the town, they con- sulted with one another, how they should pass through the town ; and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have, as you may understand, often been a con- ductor of pilgrims through this town ; They enter into now I am acquainted with one Mr. one Mr. Mna,. Mr, . , . son's to lodgo. nason, a Cyprusian by nation, an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. Ac. xxi. ig. If you think good, said he, we will turn in there.'1 Content, said old Honest ; Content, said Chris- tiana ; Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind ; and so they said all. Now, you must think, it was even-tide by that they got to the outside of the town ; but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man's adversary. — (lvimey.) 'As iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.' liow great a comfort to find a fellow-pilgrim whose experience agrees with our own, and with whom we can take sweet counsel ! Still all our dependence must be on Ready -to-halt's crutches — ' the promises.' — (Ed.) - The near prospect of persecution is formidable even to true believers, notwithstanding all the encouragements of God's \\ ord. It is useful to realize such scenes, that we may pray, without ceasing, for wisdom, fortitude, patience, meekness, faith, and love sufficient for us, should matters come to the worst. — (Scott.) a liow happy to find a family, in Vanity Fair, whose master will receive and entertain pilgrims. Blessed be God for the present revival of religion in our day, and for the many houses that are open to friends of the Lamb. — (Alason.) THE PILGRIM'S TROCHES*. 223 house. So thither tlioy came ; and lie called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever lie heard it ; so he opened, and they all came in. Then said Mnason their host, How far have ye come to-day? So they said, From the house of Gains our friend. I promise you, said he, you have gone a good stitch, you may well he a weary; sit down. So they Bat down. Great-heart Then said their guide, Come, what r ^gtafloj cheer, Sir. '. 1 d:.re say you are wel- entartainmmt. comc to my friend. Mnason. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do hid you welcome, and, whatever you want, do hut say, and we will do what we can to get it for you. HON. Our great want, a while since, was har- hour and good company, and now I hopo we have both. MtfASON. For harbour, you see what it is; but for good company, that will appear in the trial. Great-heart. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the Pilgrims up into their lodging? Mnason. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he bad them to their respective places; and also showed them a very fair dining-room, where they might be, and sup together, until time was come to go to rest. Now, when they were set in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked bis landlord, if there were any store of good people in the town? MNASON. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few, when compared with them on the other Bide. Hon. Cut bow shall we do to see some of them? They desire to for the sight of good men to them that p'.a' peopii of are S'oin8' ou pilgrimage, is like to the the town. appearing of the moon and the stars to them that are sailing upon the seas.1 Then Mr. Mnason stamped with bis foot, and bis daughter Grace came up; so be said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Love- saint, Mr. Dare-not-lic, and Mr. Penitent; that I have a friend or two at my house that have a mind this evening to see them. Some sent for. 1 The inquiry of disciples, after suitable company, discovers that they, with David, love the Lord's saints; and in the excellent of the earth is all their delight. Ps. xvi. 3. A genuine discovery this of a gracious heart. — M a Great, indeed, was the change in the town of Vanity, when Christiana and her party of pilgrims arrived, compared with the but recent period when Faithful was martyred. The declaration of liberty of conscience had rendered the profes- sion of vital godliness more public, still there was persecution enough to make it comparatively pure. Dr. Cheever has indulged in a delightful reverie, in his lecture ou Vanity Fair, Borne 1' Qgth, how our glorious dreamer would uow describe the face of society in our present Vanity Fair. After describing the consequences that had arisen from religion having become Fasiiionallk, he hints at the ret] movement towards Popery, known under the name of Pnse) ism. VOL. III. So Grace went to call them, and they came ; and, after salutation made, they sat down together at the table. Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neigh- bours, I have, as you sec, a company of strati come to my bouse; they are Pilgrims; they come from afar, and are going to mount Zion. But who, quoth be, do you think this is? pointing with his finger to Christiana; it is Christiana, the wife of Christian, that famous Pilgrim, who, with Faithful bis brother, were so shamefully handled in our town. At that they stood amazed, saying, We little thought to sec Christiana, when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very comfortable surprise. Then they asked her of her welfare, and if these young men were her husband's sons? And when she had told them they were, they said, The King whom you love and serve, make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace! Hon. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all sat down) asked Mr. Contrite, and the SometnlkbetwKt rest, in what posture their town was 1 Contrite. at present? Contrite. You may be sure we arc full of hurry in fair-time. It is bard keeping our hearts and spirits in any good order, when we are in a cum- bered condition. He that lives in such Tlie fniit of a place as this is, and that has to do watchfulness. with such as we have, has need of an item, to cau- tion him to take heed, every moment of the day. Hon. But how are your neighbours for quietness ? Contrite. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know bow Chris- v r\ rsecuunn not tian and Faithful were used at our so hot at Vanity town ; but of late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with load upon them till now ; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious ; now, especially in some parts of our town (for you know our town is large), religion is counted honourable. - 'It happened, in process of time, that a part of the pilgrims who remained in Vanity Fair, began to visit the cave of Giant Pope, and it became a sort of fashionable pilgrimage to that cave. They brushed up the giant, and gave him medii alleviate the hurts from those bruises which he had received in h;s youth ; and, to make the place pleasauf.cr, they carefully cleared away the remains of the bones and skulls of burned pilgrims, and plai aclosnre with Bowers and ercr- -i i * ii-.' ' The cage in which the Pilgrims were once confined was now never used; some said it was consecrated for church purposes, ami put under the cathedral, in a deep cell, from which it might again be brought forth if occasion required it.' The Doctor's description of the present - . Pair is rarj deeply interesting and amusing. — (En.) When i is counted honourable, we shall not want professors; but trying times are sifting times. As the chaff flies before the wind, so will the formal professors before a storm of persecu- tion,—(J. B.) 29 226 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth it with you in your pilgrimage ? How stands the country affected towards you? Hon. It happens to us as it happeneth to way- faring men ; sometimes our way is clean, some- times foul, sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill ; we are seldom at a certainty; the wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already ; and what are yet behind, we know not ; but for the most part, we find it true, that has been talked of, of old, A good man must suffer trouble. Contrite. You talk of rubs ; what rubs have you met withal? Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide, for he can give the best account of that. Great-iieart. We have been beset three or four times already. First, Christiana and her children were beset with two ruffians, that they feared would a took away their lives. We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good, Indeed we did rather beset the last, than were beset of him. And thus it was : After we had been some time at the house of ' Gaius, mine host, and of the whole church,' Ro. xvi. 23, we were minded upon a time to take our weapons with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims (for we heard that there was a notable one thereabouts). Now Gaius knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt there- about; so we looked, and looked, till at last we discerned tbe mouth of his cave ; then we were glad, and plucked up our spirits. So we ap- proached up to his den, and lo, when we came there, he had dragged, by mere force, into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, sup- posing, as we thought, he had had another prey, he left the poor man in his hole, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the way-side, for a terror to such as should after practise such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion. Feeble-mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true, to my cost, and comfort ; to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends with their weapons, approach so near for my deliverance. 1 Kindness to the poor increases and builds up the church. It conquers the prejudices of the worldly, secures their confi- dence, and brings them under the preaching of the gospel. They rationally conclude that they cannot be bad people who do so much good. — (Ivimey.) Holt-man. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things that they have need to be Mr. noiy-man's possessed with, that go on pilgrimage ; 8Peech- courage, and an unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way ; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of a Pilgrim stink. Love-saint. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this caution is not needful amongst Mr. Love-saint's you. But truly, there are many that speech, go upon the road, that rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pil- grims in the earth. Dare-not-lie. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, It is true, they neither have the pilgrim's Mr. Dare-not- weed, nor the pilgrim's courage ; they Ue's sPecch- go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet ; one shoe goes inward, another outward, and their hosen out behind ; there a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord. Penitent. These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled for ; nor are Mr. Penitent's the pilgrims like to have that grace speech. put upon them and their pilgrim's progress, as they desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes. Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until supper was set upon the table ; unto which they went and refreshed their weary bodies ; so they went to rest. Now they stayed in this fair a great while, at the house of this Mr. Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph. The time, as I said, that they lay here, was long (for it was not now as in former times). Wherefore the Pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, laboured much for the poor ; wherefore their bel- lies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession.1 And, to say the truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their place. They were also all of them very fruitful ; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world. While they lay here, there came a monster out of the woods, and slew many of tbe people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps.2 Now, no man in the town durst so 2 This monster is Antichrist. The devil is the head; the syna- gogue of Satan is the body; the wicked spirit of iniquity is the soul. The devil made use of the church [the clergy] to midwife this monster into the world. He had plums in his dragon's mouth, and so came in by flatteries. He metamorphosed himself into a beast, a man, or woman; and the inhabitants of the world loved the woman dearly, became her sons, and took up helmet THE riLGKIM'S PROGRESS. 227 much as face this monster; hut all men fled when they heard of the noise of his coming. The monster was like unto no one heast upon His shape, his the earth ; its body was like a dragon, nature. an(j jt ]m(i seveD heads and ten horns. Re. xvii. 3. It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman.1 This monster propounded conditions to men, and such men as loved their lives more than their souls, accepted of those conditions. So they came under.2 Now this Mr. Great-heart, together with these that came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this heast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent. Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. How he is en- Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. gaged. Penitent, with their weapons go forth to meet him. Now the monster, at first, was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain ; hut they so belaboured him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a retreat; so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again. The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town ; also these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did still continually assaidt him ; inso- much, that in process of time he became not only wounded, but lame; also he has not made that havoc of the townsmen's children, as formerly he has done. And it is verily believed by some, that this beast will die of his wounds.3 This, therefore, made Mr. Great-heart and his and shield to defend her. She arrayed herself in flesh-taking ornaments — gold, and precious stones, like an harlot. She made the kings drunken, and they gave her the blood of saints and martyrs until she was drunken, and did revel and roar. But when her cup is drunk out, God will call her to such a reckoning, that all her clothes, pearls, and jewels shall not be able to pay the shot. This beast is compared to the wild boar that comes out of the wood to devour the church of God. Ps.kxx. 13. The temporal sword will kill its body, but spirit can only he slain by spirit ; the Lord the Spirit will slay its soul. — (Banyan on Antichrist, vol. ii. p. 47.) Is not Anti- christ composed of all the State religions in the world ? — (Ed.) 1 For this woman's name and costume see Re. xvii. 1 — 4. She has just sent one of her illegitimate sons to England, under the impudent assumption of Archbishop of Westminster. — (Ed.) 2 And that you may be convinced of the truth of this, look back aud compare Antichrist four hundred years ago, with Antichrist as he now is, aud you shall see what work the Lord Jesus has begun to make with him ; kingdoms and countries he hath taken from her. True, the fogs of Antichrist, and the smoke that came with him out of the bottomless pit, has eclipsed the glorious light of the gospel ; but you know, in eclipses, when they are recovering, all the creatures upon the face of the earth cannot put a stop to that course, until the sun or the moon have recovered their glory. And thus it shall be now, the Lord is returning to visit this people with his primi- tive lustre ; he will not go back until the light of the sun shall be sevenfold. — (Bunyau's Antichrist and hit Ruin, vol. ii. p. 48.) follows of great fame in this town ; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverend esteem and respect for the in.' Upon this account therefore it was, that theso pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand more than a beast ; these had no reverence for these men, aor took they notice of their valour or adventures.5 Well, the time grew on that the Pilgrims mu?t go on their way, wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends; they con- ferred with them ; they had some time set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. There were again, that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so Laded them with such things as were necessary. Ac. xxviii. io. Then they set forward on their wry ; and their friends accompanying them so far as was conven- ient, they again committed each other to the pro- tection of their King, and parted. They, therefore, that were of the Pilgrims' com- pany went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now the women and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they could bear ; by this means Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more to sympathize with their condition. When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell ; they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death ; there therefore they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well ; and the rather because they now found that they had a benefit by such a manly suffering as his was.6 They went on, therefore, after this, a good way 3 'Wheu nations have restored to the people the property of which they have been plundered, under the pretence of assisting to obtain the pardou of sin and the favour of God, the monster will soon die ; when neither rule, nor honour, nor pelf is to be gained by hypocrisy. — (Ed.) 1 This may refer to that noble baud of eminent men who, in 1675, preached the morning exercises against Popery; among others were Owen, Manton, Baxter, Doolittle, Jeukyu, Poole, and many others. They were then, and ever will be, of great fame. — (Ed.) * The plaus of Charles II. and James II., to re-establish Popery in England, were defeated by the union of the eminent Nonconformists with some decided enemies to Rome in the Established Church ; this brought them into esteem and respect. Mr. Scott's note on this passage is — ' The disinterested, and bold decided conduct of many dissenters, on this occasion, pro- cured considerable favour both to them and their brethren, with the best friends of the nation ; but the prejudices ol prevented them from reaping all the advantage from it that they ontiht to have done.' — (Ed.) 8 David Hume, in his History of England, admitted the invaluable services of the Puritans, ' By whom the precious spark of liberty was kindled and preserved, and to whom the English owe all the blessings of their excellent constitution.' —(Ed.) THE Hi.r.KIM'fi PROGRESS. further, talking of Christian and Faithful; and | how Hopeful joined himielf to Chri itiaa after that Faithful was (lend. Now they were come up with the Hill Lucre, : ,rti where the silver mine was, which tool off from lii pilgrin , and Into which, as some think, By ends Fell and per> I bed; wherefore they considered that. But when they were come to the old monument that stood over against the hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake; they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of thai knowledge and ripene of they were, should be so blinded as to turn bere. Only they considered again, that nature i i no! affected with the harms that othei s have mel with, e peoially if that thing upon which they look, ba ■ an attracting virtue upon the fooli ih I iye. 1 saw now thai they went on, (ill they came at ,(i, the river that was on this side of the p Delectable Mountains. To the river where the fine trees grow on both sides; and whose leave . if taken inwardly, are good again il surfeits, where the meadows are green all the year long, and where they might lie down safely, r-. udu. By this river side, In the meadow, there were ind fold i for sheep, a b le built for the 1 rishing and bringing up of those lambs, the of those women that go on pilgrimage. 9« » a, M o there was here one that was intrusted with them, who < Id have compassion, and that oould gather these lambs with hi i arm, and carry them in hi ■ bi i, and thai oould gently lend those that were with young, ti, d. a New to the care of this man, Christiana admonished her four daughters to commit (heir little ones, that by these waters they mighl be bou ed, harboured, succoured, and nour- ' bi d, aud thai none of them might be laoking in time to eome.1 This Man, if any of them go a itray, or be lo it, be will bring them again ; he «ill also hind up that whioh was broken, and will strengthen them that are siok, Bm. mdr. u ifl. Here they will never wanl meat, and drink, and olothing; bere they will be kepi from thieves and robbers; for this Man will die before one of those oommitted to hi • tru i shall be loi t. 3a. kxiil l Bi side i, here they hall be ure to have "nod nurture and ad- monition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, and that you Knew is a favour of DO Small account. A.1 o here, as you ee, are «h ticate waters, 1 This Is " moil encouraging view of the tender core of the . i" the ohildn n ol bi lievei i c uitti d to hii oare, by godly parenta, Nol byanj ceremonial obiervanee, but hycon< mi fervi ui upplii tttionitoth thi i i ei on their behalf, .nid by a i -il i ten! pioui example to train thorn up in the way in which they ihould go, thai when the] i Id they ihoald nol deparl from the new and living way, -(En.) plea mi meadows, dainty Sowers, variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit; fruit not like that thai Matthew ate of, (hat fell over the wall out of Beelzebub's garden ; but fruit thai pro- cureth health where there is none, and that oon« tinuetb and increaseth it where it is.8 So they were < tent to commit their little one i to him; and that which was also an encourage ineiit, to them so to do, was, for that, all lln . w.i . to be at the charge ol* the King, and so was as an hospital for young children and orphans, Now they went, on; and when they were come to By path Meadow, to the stile oyer ,,.||L:I ,,mI which Christian went, with his fellow P ! Hopeful, when they were, taken hy ' i,. i„ ■„ .„ ,., 1 J •' i H 1 1 j 1 1 . 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ■ . Giant Despair, and put into Doubting hnve n mind to I 'a lie ; they Sat down and eon allied ,,', Qj J ' il, what, was best to he done ; to wit, now they were so strong, and had got sneli a man as Mr. (ireat heart, for their eondnelor, whether they had not best to make an attempt upon the Giant, demolish his castle, and, if there were any pilgrims in it, to set, them at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said the contrary. One questioned if it wa i lawful to go upon uneonsecrated ground; another said they might, provided their end was good; but Air. (ireat, heart, said. Though that assert ion ollered last CanUOl be universally true, yet 1 have a. com- mandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the good fight of faith; and, l pray, with whom should 1 fight this good fight, if not with Giant Despair? 1 will, therefore, attempt the taking away of his life, and the demolishing of Doubting < !a lie. Then said he, Who will go with me i Then said old Honest, I will, And so will we too, said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, James, and Joseph; for they were young men and Strong. 1 .in. iii. 18, II. So they left the, women in the road, and with them Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready to halt with his orutohes, to be their guard, until they came hack ; for in that place though Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a little child might lead them, b, a, & So Mr. (Ireat heart, old Honest, and the four young men, went to go up to Doubting Castle, to look for Giant Despair. When they came at the Castle-gate, they knocked ^^~ entrance with an unusual noise. At that the old Giant comes to the gate, and Diffidence, his wife, follows. Then said he, Who, and what is he that, is so hardy, a; after this manner to molest the Giant Despair? Hi iv we frequently find our author speaking of our God and Saviour at man; be excels in thie. n li to be wi bed thai authoi in, i |,n ,m h. i , wrote and ipoke of the manhood of Jeaui, who woj ii perfect man, like unto ni In .'ill things excepl sin. The view and consideration of this la iweot to faith, and endcori our Saviour to our heart*.-— (Maaon.) 1111. PILGRIM'S PROGR] 3. Groat heart replied, It Is 1. Great heart, one of the King of the Celestial Country'! oonduo ton of pilgrims to their plaeej and I demand of thee thai thou open thj galea for tnj entrance, Propare thyself al o to fight, for 1 ara oome to away thj bead, aad t«> demolioh Doubting C OS tie. Now Giant Despair, beoaute he was i giant, thoughl no man oould overooms him ; '"""''"' ,'1"- and, again, thought he, shies here tofore 1 have made s oonque I oi angels, shall Great heart make me afraid ! So he hoi himself, and wont out. He had a oap of steel upon his head, s breast plate of fire girded to him, and he oame nut in iron shoes with a great club in Ins hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and before. Also when Diffi- denoe, the giantess, oame up to help bim, old Mr. Honest <-ut her down at one blow, Then they fought for their live*, and Giant Despair was brought down t<> the ground, but was ''"'"'• vcr\ loath i" die, 1 1<- struggled hard, . nd had, as thej soy, as manj lives as a oat ; but I real heart was hie death, for he Left him not (ill he had severed his head from Ids shoulders.1 'i hen thej fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, that you know might with eo is bs '' done, sinoe Giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in destroying i>r that; and in it of pilgrims thej found one Mr. Despondenoy, almost starved (<> death, and one Mueh afraid, hie daughter; these two thej saved olive. But it would have made you a wondered to have seen the dead bodies that lav here and there in the oastli yard, and how full of dead men's bones tint dungeon was. W heU Mr. Civ. il limit and his enni|>anion I Lid performed this exploit, thej took Sir, Dospondenoy, and his daughter Much-afraid, into their proteo for they were bone it people, though thej were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to that tyrant Giant Despair. They, therefore, l say, took with them the head of tin- Giant, Lr bis bodj thej had buried under a heap of stones, and down to the 1 \\ Ii it i .linn. ( GrCOl In' ul do ';' u lull feat UOt | what vi o Greol hi art P id Giant De paii be lain bj tha power t-heart, with ' the iword of the Spirit, wnioh u tin- Word "i Qod,' E ph vi, I , i even Di pondi uci . thou n delivered, sod bi dau [hti [ Mm h i bo rescued, 0 for more of Great heart i company ' i inful, and uti I, bul ii i hall I" fluallj incci ful. ' I am per- suaded,' laitfa the apostle, ' that oeithei death, nor life, nor aor principalities, nor powers, noi things present, nor things to come, aor hoi bth, noi depth, noi anj other creature, i. bi from the low of God, which ii In Chrial Jc hi "in Lord.' Pan] demoliahed the an lie, and lie? I . but, . niii.,"! remain, An, i nuke Di luau Ike Olunl Uti i l to their oompanions theyoame, and showed them what they had done, Now when feeble- mind and Readj to halt ■ avi that it wa - th oi Giant Despair indeed, thej were verj jocund and merrj .- Now Chi i itiana, if n< od wa , oould play unon the v iol, and Ii. r dan • lilt-r , Aii'i i'v u\x>u the int.' ; o, inoe they "-1 • merrj di po ed, she plop d ' " J"v them ii lesson, and Readj to halt would danoe. So he took De pondenoy' i daughter, named Muoli afraid, bj the hand, and to danoing thej went in the load. True, he oould not danoe without one orutoh in his hand; but, I promise von, he footed it well, All o the gii I was to be commended, for slio answered the music handsomely. a i for M i . I ii pondenoj , the rau io » a not muoh (^ liim; be was for feeding rather than danoing, for that be wa i alrao I stoi ved* I o Christiana gave bim i ome of her bottl i oi for present roliof, and tlien propared him thing to eat ; and, in little time, the old gonth man oame t>> himself, and began to be finelj revived. Now l aaw in my dream, when all the e I were flnii bed, Mr. Great heart took the head of Giant Despair, and set it upon a pole bj the hi fh« way side, right over against the pillar that I tian oreoted for a caution to pilgrims that after, to take heed of entering into his grounds. ' Though Doubting Caitle be doraoll h'd, Ami the. Giant Deipair hath toit his head, Sin oan rebuild the Castle, moko't roiuoiu, Ami in.: k»- Deipair the G it livi Then he writ under it, upon a rnarbli ill," q \ er e i follovi ing i 'This the bead of him, whose name onlj in former times did pilgrimi terrify, [■] i Ue'i down . and Diffldi Brave Master On De pondenoy, his daughtei Muoh ilVaid, I m immontnl Great heart (be them also the man liai ploy'd; Who hereof doubts, If he'll but oast bis eyo t |i hithi r, in i; i in hi "i also, whi n doubtin \ oi ipplos d tnoo, Doth ihom i i ft u i thoj have di livi " How wall d Muoh afraidi, Head] to halti, and the Feebl I < 'ome and u ■ leo ■ ' ' Poor ■• i ■ oul, thou art ill man that would ride full gallop, whose hoi e will hardlj trot ' Now, the deairoof 1 Die dull jade bo ride but bj the h teli Ing, and ipurrii mk. Thj fl« h tbii dull jade ; it will aot a dlop after Chri I It will I ward, though thj il ana heaven li( .i irt, ' hri I jad n th i rdin ■ to thi aeei j heart.' (Vol.l.p | || the work and aim of even i ithful mi Christ, to de troj Giant Di | CtoUe, in the henrti of God'i children. \ i awful ch It not ,,, the world, thi • man who a niino- th mstcri i idohorooter, n I lot '■"" ! "•' n tn of m Motion which Is « i >d '" -" who lireallj oalled and lent nt God J. BJ 230 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. When these men had thus hravelj showed them- selves against Doubting Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they went forward ; and went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. Now the Shepherds, seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great-heart, for with him they were well acquainted, they said unto him, Good Sir, you have got a goodly company here. Pray, where did you find all these ? Then Mr. Great-heart replied : First, here is Christiana and her train, Her sons, and her sons' wives, who like the wain,1 Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer, From sin to grace, else they had not been here ; The Guide's Next, here's old Honest come on pilgrimage, 3peech to the «■,,,,.. ,T, Shepherds. Keady-to -halt, too, who, I dare eugase, True-hearted is, and so is Peeble-mind, Who willing was not to be left behind ; Despondency, good man, is coming after, And so also is Much-afraid his daughter. May we have entertainment here, or must We further go ? Let's know whereon to trust. Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable Their entertain- company. You are welcome to us, went. for we }iave [comfort] for the feeble as for the strong. Our Prince has an eye to what is done to the least of these ; therefore infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment. Mat. xxv. 40. So they had them to the palace door, and then said unto them, Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind ; Come in, Mr. Ready-to-halt ; come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid, his daughter.2 These, Mr. Great-heart, said the Shepherds to the guide, we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back ; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that you are my A description Lord's Shepherds indeed ; for that you herds? shq)' have not pushed these diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should.3 Eze. xxxiv. 21. 1 'The wain,' seven bright stars in the constellation of Ursa Major, called by country people, the plough, or the wain, or Charles I. s chariot. — (Ed.) 2 Those ministers who exercise the greatest affection towards weak and upright Christians, are most according to the description of pastors, after God's own heart, given in the Scriptures of truth. — (Iviniey.) 3 Bunyan was peculiarly tender with the weak ; they are to be received, but not to doubtful disputations. Thus, with regard to the great cause of separation among Christians, he says, ' If water-baptism ' (whether by sprinkling of infants', or immersing of adults) ' trouble their peace, wound the con-' sciences of the godly, and dismember their fellowships, it is, So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great- heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the Shepherds said to those of tho weaker sort, What is it that you would have ? for, said they, all things must be managed here to tho supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of the unruly. So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing; the which, when they had received, they went to their rest, each one respectively unto his proper place. When morning was come, be- cause the mountains were high, and the day clear, and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to show to the Pilgrims, before their departure, some rarities ; i therefore, after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the Shepherds took them out into the fields, and showed them first what they had showed to Christian before. Then they had them to some new places. The first was to Mount Marvel, where they 1 i j j t_ i 1 1 v Mount M.irveL looked, and beheld a man at a dis- tance, that tumbled the hills about with words. Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean ? So they told them, that that man was a son of one Great-grace, of whom you read in the First Part of the Records of the Fil- ■pirat -p^ grim's Progress. And he is set there P- 149- to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their way, what difficulties they shall meet with, by faith.5 Mar. ». 23, 24. Then said Mr. Great- heart, I know him. He is a man above many. Then they had them to another place, called Mount Innocent ; and there they saw Mount a man clothed all in white, and two innocent, men, Prejudice and Ill-will, continually casting dirt upon him. Now, behold, the dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in little time fall off again, and his garments would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat.6 although an ordinance, for the present to be prudently shunned, for the edification of the church.' ' Love is more discovered when we receive, for the sake of Christ, than when we refuse his children for want of water.' — (Bunyan on Baptism, vol. ii. p. 608.) When will such peaceful sentiments spread over the church?— (En.) 4 There are things taught by the gospel, here called 'rarities/ which, though high and mysterious, will yet, when clearly stated, prove the means of exciting Christians to live by faith, and to cidtivate whatsoever things are lovely and of good report. — (Ivimey.) 5 Strong faith, in the words of Christ, will ' believe down ' mountains of afflictions, or tumble them out of the Christian's way. Though it will not perform miracles, it will remove difficulties resembling mountains. — (Ivimey.) 6 The history of Joseph, with that of Mr. Bunyan, aud of thousands besides, proves, that charges against a godly, inno- cent man, arising from the prejudice, ill-will, and malice of his enemies, shall eventually turn out to his honour, and to their confusion. ' Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.' Mat. v. 11.— (Ed J THE HLG RIM'S PROGRESS. 231 Mount Charity. Then said the Pilgrims, What means this ? The Shepherds answered, This man is named Godly- man, and this garment is to show the innoceney of his life. Now, those that throw dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing; hut, as you see the dirt will not stiek upon his clothes, so it shall he with him that liveth truly innocently in the world. Whoever they he that would make such men dirty, they lahour all in vain; for God, hy that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall hreak forth as the light, and their righteousness as the noon-day. Then they took them, and had them to Mount Charity, where they showed them a man that had a hundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. Then said they, What should this be ? This is, said the Shepherds, to show you, that he that has a heart to give of his labour to the poor, shall never want wherewithal. lie that watereth shall be watered himself. And the cake that the widow gave to the prophet did not cause that she had ever the less in her barrel. They had them also to a place where they saw , , one Fool, and one Want-wit, washing rheworkof one . ]. ro on ,1 ,1., i i pilgnmage. our parts, and he told it about what Christian had done, that went from the City of Destruction; namely, how he had forsaken his wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was also confidently reported, how he had killed a serpent that did come out to resist him in his journey, and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told, what wel- come he had at all his Lord's lodgings, especially when he came to the gates of the Celestial City ; for there, said the man, he was received with sound of trumpet, by a company of Shining Ones. He told it also, how all the bells in the city did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments he was clothed with, with many other things that now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels, that my heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after him ; nor could father or mother stay me! So I got from them, and am come thus far on my way. Great-heart. You came in at the gate, did you not ? 2 In this battle, this striving for the truth, three considera- tions strike the mind.— 1. Reliance upon Divine aid, without which we can do nothing. 2. A right Jerusalem weapon, forged iu the lire of love, well tempered with Rible truths. Such a sword will make even the angeUf the bottomless pit flee, its edge will never blunt, and it will cut through every- thing opposed to it. 3. Decision of character, per- i to the utmost ; no trimming or meanly compounding for truth, but a determination, in the Lord's strength, to come off more than conquerors. It is blessed lighting when hand and heart are engaged, and the sword grows united to both.— 3 The church of Christ has produced heroes of the first class in point of courage, which they have displayed in circum- stances of great danger. Luther and Knox, and [atim. r and Bunyan, were men of this stamp ; each of whom m,, ht wuh great propriety, have been named \ ahant-lor-thc-truth.- (Ivimey.) SQ 234 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Valiant. Yes, yes ; for the same man also told He begins us tnat a^ would be nothing, if we did not right, begin to enter this way at the gate.1 Great-heart. Look you, said the guide to Chris- fliristian's name tiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, famous. an(j wnat jie iias gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. Valiant. Why, is this Christian's wife ? Great-heart. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four sons. Valiant. What ! and going on pilgrimage too ? Great-heart. Yes, verily; they are following after. Valiant. It glads me at heart. Good man ! lie is much re- how joyful will he be when he shall 'Christians SCe see tliem tliat would not S° with nim> wife. yefc to enter after him in at the gates into the City ! Great-heart. Without doubt it will be a com- fort to him ; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children. Valiant. But, now you are upon that, pray let me hear your opinion about it. Some make a question, Whether we shall know one another when we are there. Great-heart. Do they think they shall know themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do these, why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also ?2 Again, since relations are our second self, though that state will be dissolved there ; yet why may it not be rationally concluded, that we shall be more glad to see them there, than to see they are wanting ? 1 The reason why so many professors set out, aud go on for a season, but fall away at last, is, because they do not enter into the pilgrim's path by Christ, who is the gate. They do not see themselves quite lost, ruined, hopeless, and wretched ; their hearts are not broken for sin ; therefore they do not. begin by receiviug Christ as the only Saviour of such miser- able sinners. But they set out in nature's strength ; and not receiving nor living upon Christ, they fall away. This is the reason of this inquiry, Did you come in at the gate ? A ques- tion we ought to put to ourselves, and be satisfied about. — (Mason.) 2 Among many puzzling questions which agitate the Chris- tian's mind, this is very generally a subject of inquiry. At the mount of transfiguration, the apostles knew the glorified spirits of Moses and Mias. The rich man and Lazarus and Abraham knew each other. The most solemn inquiry is, to reconcile with the bliss of heaven the discovery that some dear relative has been shut out. Shall we forget them ? or will all our exquisite happiness centre in the glory of God ? liunvuu has no doubt upon personal identity iu heaven : — ' Our friends that lived godly here Shall there be found again; The wife, the child, and lather de;ir, With Others of our train. Those God did use us to convert We there with joy shall meet. And jointly shall, with all our heart, Iu life each other greet.' — [.One Thing Needful, ver. 69, 71.)— (Ed.) Valiant. Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage ? 3 Great-heart. Yes. Was your father and mother willing that you should become a pilgrim ? Valiant. 0 no ! They used all means imaginable to persuade me to stay at home. Great-heart. What could they say against it ? Valiant. They said it was an idle The great stum- life ; and if I myself were not inclined ££ ^°\^ to sloth and laziness, I would never frie1nd? w?re . . , laid in his countenance a pilgrim s condition.* way. Great-heart. And what did they say else ? Valiant. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way ; yea, the most dangerous way in the world, said they, is that which the pilgrims go. Great-heart. Did they show wherein this way is so dangerous ? Valiant. Yes ; and that in many particulars. Great-heart. Name some of them. Valiant. They told me of the Slough of De- spond, where Christian was well nigh TIie nrst stum- smothered. They told me that there Ming-block, were archers standing ready in Beelzebub Castle, to shoot them that should knock at the wicket- gate for entrance. They told me also of the wood, and dark mountains ; of the Hill Difficulty ; of the lions; and also of the three giants, Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good. They said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the Valley of Hu- miliation, and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hobgoblins are ; where the light is darkness ; where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. The)' told me also of Giant Despair, of Doubting Castle, and of the ruin that the Pilgrims met with there. Further, they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And that, after all this, I should find a river, over which I should find no bridge, and that that river did lie betwixt me and the Celestial Country. Great-heart. And was this all ? Valiant. No. They also told me that this way was full of deceivers,0 aud of 3 A sound Christian is not afraid to be examined, and sifted to the bottom, for he can give reason of the hope that is in him. He knows why and wherefore he commenced his pil- grimage.— (Mason.) 4 This is a reproach cast upon religion in every age. Pharaoh said to Moses and the Israelites, ' Ye are idle, ye are idle.' Meu by nature imagiue, that time spent in reading the Bible and in prayer is wasted. It behoves all believers to avoid every appearance of evil; and, by exemplary diligence, frugality, and good management, to put to silence the ignor- ance of foolish men. — (Scott.) 5 Worldly people, in opposing the gospel, descant upon the hypocrisy of religious persons; they pick up every vague report that they" hear to their disadvantage, and narrowly watch for the halting of such as they are acquainted with; and then they form general conclusions from a few distorted THE TILR RIM'S PROGRESS. 236 persons that laid in wait there to turn good men out of the path. Great-heart. But how did they make that out? Valiant. They told me that Mr. Worldly-wise- man did there lie in wait to deceive. They also Baid, that there was Formality and Hypocrisy con- tinually on the road. They said also that By-ends, Talkative, or Demas would go near to gather mo up; that the Flatterer would catch me in his net; or that, with green-headed Ignorance, I would pre- sume to go on to the gate, from whence he always was sent hack to the hole that was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell. Great-heart. I promise you this was enough to discourage ; but did they make an end here ? Valiant. No; stay. They told me also of many that had tried that way of old, The thud. ^ tj)afc jifuj gone a gT(,at .^ therein, to see if they could find something of the glory there, that so many had so much talked of from time to time ; and how they came hack again, and hcfooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And they named several that did so; as Obstinate and Fliable, Mistrust and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more, who, they said, had some of them, gone far to see if they could find ; hut not one of them found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather.1 Great-ueart. Said they anything more to dis- courage you ? Valiant. Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fear- ing who was a pilgrim ; and how he The fourth. * s , ^ ■ Tx *i x i found this way so solitary, that lie never had comfortable hour therein. Also that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein ; yea, and also, which I had almost forgot, that Christian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned in the Black River, and never went foot further, however it was smo- thered up.2 and uncertain stories. Thus they endeavour to prove that there is no reality in religion. This is a frivolous sophistry, often employed after all other arguments have heen silenced. —(Scott.) 1 If Judas the traitor, or Francis Spira the backslider, were alive, to whisper these men in the ear a little, and to tell them what it hath cost their souls fur turning hack, it would surely stick by them as long as they have a day to live in the world. Agrippa gave a fair step on a sudden ; he stepped almost into the bosom of Christ iu less than half an hour. ' Almost thou persuadest me to he a Christian.' It was but almost, and so he had as good been not at all. lie stepped fair, but stepped short. He was hot whilst he ran, but he was quickly out of breath. 0 this but almost 1 I tell you, it lost his soul. \\ hat a doom they will have, who were almost at heaven's gate, but ran back again ! — (Bunyan's Heavenly Footman) ' How natural is it for carnal men to give an evil report of the ways of the Lord ; and to discourage those who are just Great-heart. And did none of these things discourage you ? Valiant. No; they seemed but as so many nothings to me. Great-heart. How came that about? Valiant. Why, 1 still believed lliAvl, what Mr. Tell-true had said, and that carried me beyond them all. Great-heart. Then this was your victory, even your faith. Valiant. It was so. I believed, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that Bet themselves against me, and, by believing, am come to this place.'5 Who would true valour see, Let him come hither ; One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather. There's no discouragement Shall make him once relent, His first avow'd intent To be a pilgrim. Who so beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound, His strength the more is; No lion can him fright, He'll with a giant fight ; But he will have a right To be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit ; He knows he at the eud Shall life inherit. Then fancies fly away, He'll fear not what men say; He'll labour night and day To bu a pilgrim. By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground,'1 where the air naturally tended j^rst i>.irt) to make one drowsy ; and that place P1 1"-- was all grown over with briars and thorns, except- ing here and there, where was an Enchanted Arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in which, if a man sleeps, it is a question, say some, whether setting out, by telling of the dangers and difficulties they shall meet with ! But here is not one word of the pleasures, com- forts, and joys, that are experienced in the ways of the Lord. No, they feel' them not, they believe not one word about them; therefore they cannot speak of them. — (Mason.) 8 Here we see that valiant soldiers of Christ ascribe all to faith. They set out with faith, and they hold on and hold out by believing. Thus they give all the glory to Christ who is the object, author, and finisher of faith. — (Mason.) 4 Various are the enemies we meet with in our Christian warfare. The world, with its enchantments, has a tendency to stupifv, and bring on a fatal lethargy. How manj sors receive principles, by which they harden themselves in carnal pursuits and Bensnal gratiflcationBj and others, still preserving a religions name and character, are as dead in their souls, as devoted to the world as these, though contending lor nnciples, and high in their religious pretensions!— (J. B.) 235 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ever he shall rise or wake again in this world.1 Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one and the other, and Mr. Greatheart went before, for that he was the guide ; and Mr. Valiant-for- truth, he came behind, being there a guard, for fear, lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered up one another as well as they could ; Feeble-mind, Mr. Great-heart commanded, should come up after him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant.2 Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all, so that they could scarce, for a great while, see the one the other ; wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel for one another by words; for they walked not by sight. But any one must think that here was but sorry going for the best of them all ; but how much worse for the women and children, who both of feet and heart, were but tender. Yet so it was, that through the encouraging words of he that led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. The way also was here very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. Nor was there on all this ground so much as one inn, or victualling house, therein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing. While one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt ; and the children, some of them, lost their shoes in the mire. While one cries out, I am down; and another, Ho! where are you? and a third, The bushes have got such fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them. 1 It behoves all who love their souls to shun that hurry of business, and multiplicity of affairs and projects, into which many are betrayed by degrees, in order to supply increasing expenses, that might be avoided by strict frugality ; for they load the soul with thick clay, are a heavy weight to the most upright, render a man's way doubtful and joyless, and drown many in perdition. — (Scott.) 2 Old pilgrims, ye who have set out well, and gone on well for a long season, consider ye are yet in the world, which is enchanted ground. Know your danger of seeking rest here, or of sleeping in any of its enchanting arbours. Though the flesh may be weary, the spirit faint, and the arbours inviting, yet beware. Press on. Look to the Strong for strength; and to the Beloved for rest in his way. — (Mason.) 3 Mark how the ready hands of death prepare ; His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart; He aims, he levels at thy slunib'riug heart. The wound is posting ; 0 be wise, beware ! What, has the voice of danger lost the art To raise the spirit of neglected care ? Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes ; But know, withal, sweet tastes have sour closes ; And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses. — (Ovaries' Emblems, i. — vii.) Then they came at an arbour, warm, and pro- mising much refreshing to the Pil- An arW on grims ; for it was finely wrought above the Knchant- head, beautified with greens, furnished mg with benches and settles.3 It also had in it a soft couch, whereon the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things considered, was tempting : for the Pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the way ; but there was not one of them that made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually, when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. This arbour was The name of called The Slothful's Friend, on pur- the arboui- pose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary. I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground, till they The way &&. came to a place at which a man is apt cult t0 6uiL to lose his way.4 Now, though when it was light, their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand; but he had in his pocket The„uide] a map of all ways leading to, or from map of ail the Celestial City ; wherefore he struck ufor from "hi a light, for he never goes also without Clty" his tinder-box, and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be careful, in that place, to turn to the right-hand way. And had he not hero been careful to look in his map, they had all, in probability, been smothered in the mud; for, just a little before them, and that at the end of the cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the Pilgrims in.5 Then thought I with myself, who that goeth on pilgrimage, but would have one of II 1. j. X.- 1.1 x i God's Book- these maps about mm, that ho may look when he is at a stand, which is the way ha must take.6 4 This inculcates the duty of constant attention to the precepts and counsels of Scripture, as well as reliance on it3 promises ; and a habitual application to the Lord by prayer, to teach us the true meaning of his Word, that we may learn the way of peace and safety in the most difficult and doubtful cases. — (Scott.) 5 The Word of God is compared to a map and a lantern; to these we shall do well to take heed, as to light shining in a dark place. Let this be the pilgrim's guide, when the light of spiritual joy or sensible comfort is withdrawn. — (Burder.) 6 — - — To follow Christ. He is to them instead of eyes, He must before them go in any wise; And he must lead them by the water side, This is the work of him our faithful guide. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 237 They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, An arbour, and tiU &W ™m3S THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. fortable. So by that they had gone a little further, a wind arose, that drove away the fog ; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off, by much, of the Enchanted Ground, only now they could see one another better, and the way wherein they should walk. Now, when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived that, a little before them, was a solemn noise of one that was much concerned. So they went on and looked before them; and behold, Stand-fast upon they saw, as they thought, a man upon ^eEmh-mted his knees, with hands and eyes lift Ground. yp^ anj speaking, as they thought, earnestly to one that was above.1 They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said. So they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got up, and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, say- ing, Soho ! friend, let us have your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I The story of know this man. Then said Mr. Valiant- staiid-fast. for-truth, Prithee, who is it ? It is one, said he, who comes from whereabouts I dwelt. His name is Stand-fast ; he is certainly a right good pilgrim. So they came up one to another; and presently Stand-fast said to old Honest, Ho, father Honest, are you there ? Aye, said he, that I am, as sure „ „ , . as you are there. Right glad am I, Talk between J o s> > him and Mr. said Mr. Stand-fast, that I have found you on this road. And as glad am I, said the other, that I espied you upon your knees. Then Mr. Stand-fast blushed, and said, But why, did you see me ? Yes, that I did, quoth the other, and with my heart was glad at the sight. Why, what did you think? said Stand-fast. Think! said old Honest, what should I think ? I thought we had an honest man upon the road, and there- fore should have his company by and by. If you thought not amiss [said Stand-fast], how happy am I ; but if I be not as I should, 1 alone must bear it. That is true, said the other ; but your fear doth further confirm me, that things are right 1 lie who fears always, will pray evermore. The fear of the heart will bring pilgrims on their knees. He who fears to be or go wrong, will pray to be set right. The Lord will direct the heart, and order the goings of all who cry to him. Fear and prayer go hand in hand. Joy shall attend them. — (Mason.) 2 No more money than an owl loves light. * The anti- quarian, who delights to solace himself in the benighted days of monkish owl-light, sometimes passes for a divine.' — (War- burton.)— (Ed.) 5 My soul, what's lighter than a feather ? Wind. Than wind ? The fire. And what than fire ? The mind. What's lighter than the mind ? A thought. Than thought ? This bubble world. What than this bubble ? Naught. — (Queries.) betwixt the Prince of Pilgrims and your soul ; for, saith he, ' Blessed is the man that feareth always.' Valiant. Well, but brother, I pray thee tell us what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees eveu now ? Was it for that some special mercies laid obligations upon They found him thee, Or how? at prayer. Stand-fast. Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground ; and as I was com- What it was fog along, I was musing with myself b^ujoi^ of what a dangerous road the road in knees- this place was, and how many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here been stopped, and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of the death with which this place destroyeth men. Those that die here, die of no violent distemper. The death which such die is not grievous to them ; for he that goeth away in a sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure ; yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Hon. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour ? Stand-fast. Aye, aye, I saw Heedless and Too- bold there ; and, for aught I know, there they will lie till they rot. Pr. x. 7. But let me go on in my tale. As I was thus musing, as I said, there was one, in very pleasant attire, but old, who presented herself unto me, and offered me three things ; to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the truth is, I was both a-weary and sleepy ; I am also as poor as an owlet,2 and that, perhaps, the witch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and twice, but she put by my repulses, and smiled. Then I began to be angry ; but she mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, and said, If I would be ruled by her, she would make me great and happy; for, said she, I am the mistress of the world, and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name, and she told me it was Madam Bubble.3 This set me further from Madara Bubble> her; but she still followed me with or ,this vaiu mi t i world. enticements. I hen 1 betook me as you saw, to my knees ; and with hands lift up, and cries, I prayed to him that had said he would help.4 So, just as you came up, the gentlewoman went her way. Then I continued to give thanks for this my great deliverance ; for I verily believe she 1 intended no good, but rather sought to make stop of me in my journey. Prayer's arrow drawn Down to the head by nervous peuitence, Or meek humility's compliant strings, Wings to the destiu'd mark its certain way, And ne'er was shot in vain ! — (Dodd's Epiphany, p. 32, 4to.) s 0 pilgrims, beware of this Madam Bubble ! Know and consider well, that ye have a nature exactly suited to accept of her offers, and to fall in love with her promises. The riches, honours, and pleasures of this world, what mortal can with- stand ? or who can forego them ? No one but he who sees THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 239 Hox. Without doubt her designs were bad. "But stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have road .some story of her. Staxd-fast. Perhaps you have done hoth. Hon. Madam Bubble! is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy complexion ? Staxd-fast. Right, you hit it, she is just such a one. Hox. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of a sentence ? Staxd-fast. You fall right upon it again, for these are her very actions. IIox. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side; and is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that was her heart's delight? Stand-fast. It is just so ; had she stood by all this while, you could not more amply have set her forth before me, nor have better described her features. IIox. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that wrote of her said true.1 GREAT-nEART. This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted. Whoever doth lay their head down in her lap, had as good lay it down upon that block over which the axe doth hang ; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, are counted the enemies of God. Ja. It. i. 1 Jn. ii. 15. This is she that maintaineth in their splendour all those that are the enemies of pilgrims. Yea, this is she that hath bought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a great gossipper ; she is always, hoth she and her daughters, at one pilgrim's heels or another, now commending, and then pre- ferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut; she will talk with any man. She always laugheth poor pilgrims to scorn ; but highly commends the rich. If there he one cun- ning to get money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house ; she loveth banqueting more charms in Jesns, more glory in his cross, and more com- fort in the enjoyment of his love and presence ; and there- fore, is continually looking and crying to him, ' Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity.' — (Mason.) Many, indeed, are her fair promises and golden dreams. Many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. O for precious faith, to overcome the world ; and to pass through it, in pursuit of a nobler portion, as strangers and pilgrims 1 — (Burder.) 1 Is she not rightly named Babble? Art thou convinced that she is nothing more? 'Why then dost thou not break loose from her hold ? I ask, Why lias the world such hold of thee? "Why dost thou listen to her enchantments? For shame! Stir up thy strength, call forth thy powers! What ! be convinced that the world is a bubble, and be led captive by her. Shake her off, you ought, you should, it is your duty. Let Mr. Stand-fast answer these questions. His earn solemn prayers plainly prove the sense he had of his own weakness and inability to extricate himself from her enchant- ments. Though some may appear to despise the dominion of tin, I am convinced that it must be a Divine power to deliver me from it. — (J. B.) and feasting mainly well ; she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in some places, that she is a goddess, and therefore somo do worship her. She has her times and open places of cheating; and she will say and avow it, that none can show a good comparable to hers. She promiscth to dwell with children's children, if they will but love and make much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold like dust, in some places, and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending hn- commodities, and she loves them most that think best of her. She will promise to some crowns and kingdoms, if they will but take her advice; yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. Staxd-fast. 0, said Stand fast, what a mercy is it that I did resist! for whither might she have drawn me! Great-heart. Whither! nay, none but God knows whither. But, in general, to be sure, she would have drawn thee into 'many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.' 1 Ti. vi 0. It was she that set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. It was she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that pre- vailed with Demas to forsake the godly pilgrims' life; none can tell of the mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbour and neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, be- twixt a man aud himself, betwixt the flesh and the heart. Wherefore, good Master Stand-fast, be as your name is, and ' when you have done all, Stand.' - At this discourse there was, among the Pilgrims, a mixture of joy and trembling ; but at length they brake out, and sang— What danger is the pilgrim in ! 1 1 ow many are his foes 1 How many ways there are to sin No Living mort;d knows. - It was amidst this Enchanted Ground that good Mr. stand- fast, whom the Pilgrims there found upon Ins knees, was so hard beset and enticed by Madam Bubble; aud indeed it is by her sorceries that the ground itself is enchanted. Madam Bubble is the world, with its allurements aud vanities; and whosoever, as Mr. Great -heart said, do lay their eyes upon her beauty are counted the enemies of God; for God hath said that the friendship of the world is enmity against God; and he hath said furthermore, 'Love not the world, nor the things of the world ; if any man love the world, the the Father is not in him.' So Mr. Stand-fast did well to he- take him to his knees praying to him that could help him. So if all pilgrims, when worldly proposals and en'. allure them, and they feel the iove of the Wi them, and gaming on' them, would thus go to more 1 prayer, and he "made more ri{ Madam Bubble wo'dd rot gaiu so many victories.— (Cheever.) 240 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Some of the ditch shy are, yet can Lie tumbling in the mire ; Some, though they shun the frying-pan, Do leap iuto the fire. After this, I beheld until they were come unto First Part, the Land of Beulah, where the sun P- 161- shineth night and day.1 Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves a while to rest; and, because this country was common for pilgrims, and because the orchards and vine- yards that were here belonged to the King of the Celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep ; and yet they received as much refreshing, as if they had slept their sleep ever so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked in the streets, was, More pilgrims are come to town. And another would answer, saying, And so many went over the water, and were let in at the golden gates to-day. They would cry again, There is now a legion of Shining Ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road ; for here they come to wait for them, and to com- fort them after all their sorrow. Then the Pil- grims got up, and walked to and fro ; but how were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with celestial visions! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing, that was Death bitter to offensive to their stomach or mind ; sweet* to the 0nty wlieQ tne7 tasted of tlie water soul. of the river over which they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was down. 1 The ensuing description represents the happy state of those that live in places favoured with many lively Christians, united in heart aud judgment; and where instances of triumphant deathhed scenes are often witnessed. Aged be- lievers, in such circumstances, have heen remarkably delivered from fears and temptations, and animated by the hopes and earnests of heaven; so that, while death seemed bitter to nature, it became pleasant to the soul to think of the joy and glory that would immediately follow it. — (Scott.) O scenes surpassing fable, and yet true I Scenes of accomplish'd bliss, which who can see, Though but in distant prospect, and not feel His soul refresh'd with foretaste of the joy? Bright as a sun the sacred City shines ; All kingdoms and all princes of the earth Flock to that light, the glory of all lands Plows into her ; unbounded is her joy, And endless her increase. Thy rams are there, Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar there ; The looms of Orrnus, and the mines of Iud, And Saba's spicy groves pay tribute there. Praise is in all her gates ; upon her walls, Aud in her streets, aud in her spacious courts, Is heard Salvation I In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here also much dis- Death has its coursed how the river to some had had to^s ate its Sowings, and what ebbings it has the tide- had while others have gone over. It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed it3 banks for others. In this place the children of the town would go into the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the Pilgrims, and bring them to them with much affection. Here also grew camphire, with spike- nard, and saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all its trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these the Pilgrims' cham- bers were perfumed, while they staid here ; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river when the time appointed was come. Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the . ° .A messeneer of town, that there was a post come from Death sent to the Celestial City, with matter of great ms ldnd" importance to one Christiana, the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was; so the post presented her with a letter ; the . . i /• , Tr ., i His message. contents whereof were, ' Had, good woman ! I bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldest stand in his presence, in clothes of immortality, within these ten days.' When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was, an arrow with a point sharpened with love, let d0eath\o°theni easily into her heart, which by degrees jgyjS, JJ wrought so effectually with her, that to die. at the time appointed she must be gone.2 When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she was the first of this company that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-heart her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, aud could have been glad had the post come Her speech to for him. Then she bid that he should hei Guide- give advice how all things should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying, thus and 2 These messengers are the diseases or decays by which the Lord takes down the earthly tabernacle, when he sees good to receive the souls of his people iuto his immediate presence. In plain language, it was reported that Clvristiana was sick and near death, aud she herself became seusible of her situation. 'The arrow sharpened by love' implies, that the time, manner, and circumstances of the believer's death, are appointed by him ' who loved us, and gave himself for us.' lie, as it were, says to the dying saint, ' It is I, be not afraid.' — (Scott.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 241 thus it must l)c; and wo that survive will accom- pany yon to the river side. Then she called fur her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them, that she yet read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and her daughters to he ready against the messen- ger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for- truth, and said unto him, Sir, you have To Mr. Valiant. ,. , , , ,,. . in all places showed yourself true- hearted; 'he faithful unto death,' and my King will give you 'a crown of life.' I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children ; and if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise To Mr. stand- upon them will he their end. But last- she gave Mr. Stand-fast a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, ' Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.' Then said he, I wish you a fair day, when you set out for Mount Zion, and shall he glad to see that you go over the river dry-shod. But she answered, Come wet, come dry, I long to he gone; for, however the weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I come there to sit down and rest me, and dry me. Then came in that good man Mr. Ready-to-halt, To Mr. Ready- to see her. So she said to him, Thy to-hait. travel hither has been with difficulty ; hut that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready ; for at an hour when you think not, the messenger may come. After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, to whom she To Despond- . , ,T , , -,i ,' i c 1 e ency and hiii said, 1 ou ought with thankfulness, tor daughter. eyer tQ rememi>er y0ur deliverance from the hands of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. The effect of that mercy is, that you are brought with safety hither. Be ye watch- ful, and cast away fear ; ' be sober and hope to the end.' Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast To old Ileiu^t. 1 This is the faith and patience of this dying Christian heroine, who hegan her pilgrimage with trembling steps, maintained her journey with holy zeal, and thus finished her course with joy. — (Ivimey.) 1 0 how blessed is the death of the righteous, who die in the Lord ! Even a wicked Balaam could wish for this. But it will be granted to none but those who have lived in the Lord ; whose souls have been quickened by his Spirit to come unto Jesus, believe in him, and glory of him as their righteous- ness and salvation. — plasou.) VOL. III. * ' delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay-good, that thou mightest live in the light of the living for ever, and see thy King ToFe«-'u'"""i- with comfort ; only I advise thee to repent thee of thine aptness to fear and doubt of his goodm before he sends for thee; lest thou shouldest, when ho conies, be forced to stand before him, for that fault, with blushing. Now the day drew on, that Christiana must he gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her iourney. But, behold, all the ,, ill" ll • r ''(T 'ast "lav, banks beyond the river were full of and manner at horses and chariots, which were come ci'drtur(;- 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 words that she was heard to say here, were, I come, Lord, to be with thee, and bless thee.1 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. At her departure her children wept. But Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well- tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places.2 In process of time there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to- halt. So he inquired him out, and Ready-to-halt said to him, I am come to thee in the "munoned. name of him whom thou hast loved and followed, though 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.8 Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, I have broken thy golden howl, and loosed thy silver cord. Ec. xii. 6. After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fel- low-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, there- fore thus he said, These crutches I priI! bequeath to my son that shall tread 1Jls waL 5 Evident decays of natural powers as effectually convince the observing person, as if a messenger had been • inform him. But men in general cling to life, wilfoJlj ova look such tokens, and try to keep up to the last the vai of recovering; those around them, by a cm soothe them in the delusion; so that numbers die of chronic diseases as suddenly as if they had been shot throng heart. Perhaps the author had some reference to inexplicable presages of death which some persons evidently experience. — (Scott.) 31 242 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. in my steps, with a hundred warm wishes that he may prove hetter than I have done. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his eon- duct 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 ! l So he went Ilis last words. , . his way. After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought Feeble-mind him, that the post sounded his horn summuued. at j^ cuamber door. Then he came in, and told him, saying, I am come to tell thee, that thy Master hath need of thee ; and that, in very little time, thou must behold his face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of my message, 'Those that look out of the windows shall be darkened. ' 2 Ec. xii. 3. Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the lie makes no message. Then he said, Since I have wiu- nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose should I make a will ? As for my feeble mind, that I will leave behind me, for that I have no need of that in the place whither I go. Nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrim ; where- fore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a dunghill. This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest. His last words were, _. , , Hold out, faith and patience. So he His last words. . ... went over to the other side. When days had many of them passed away, Mr. Despond- ^r* Despondency was sent for ; for a ency's sum- post was come, and brought this mes- sage to him : Trembling man, these are to summon thee to be ready with thy King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy for thy deliver- ance from all thy doubtings. And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take this for a proof ; so he gave him the grasshopper to be a burden unto him. Ec. xii. 5. Now, His daughter ^r- Despondency's daughter, whose goes too. name wag Much-afraid, said, when she 1 See the joyful end of one ready to halt at every step. Take courage hence, ye lame, halting pilgrims. — (Mason.) 'J The tokens are taken from that well-known portion of Scripture, Ec. xii. 1-7; in which the dealings of the Lord are represented as uniformly gentle to the feeble, trembling, humble believer ; and the circumstances of their deaths comparatively encouraging and easy. — (Scott.) 3 In the Holy War, the doubters having been dispersed, three or four thrust themselves into Mansoul. Now, to whose house should these Diabolian doubters go, but to that of Old Evil-questioning. So he made them welcome. "Well, said he, be of what shire you will, you have the very length of my foot, are one with my heart. So they thanked him. I, said one, am an election-doubter; I, said another, am a vocation- heard what was done, that she would go with he? father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends, Myself and my daughter, you know what we have been, and how troublesomely we have behaved our- selves in every company. My will and my daughter's is, that our desponds and slavish fears be by no man ever received, from the day of our departure, for ever ; for I know that after my death they will offer themselves to others.3 For, to be plain with you, they are ghosts the which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after ; and they will walk about and seek entertainment of the pilgrims ; but, for our sakes, shut ye the doors upon them.4 When the time was come for them to depart, they went to the brink of the river. The last words of Mr. Despondency were, Farewell • •. . i j tt ■ i i i His last words. night, welcome day. Mis daughter went through the river singing, but none could understand what she said.5 Then it came to pass, a while after, that there was a post in the town that inquired Mr Honest for Mr. Honest. So he came to his summoned, house where he was, and delivered to his hand these lines : Thou art commanded to be ready against this day sevennight, to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's house. And for a token that my message is true, ' All thy daughters of music shall be brought low.' Ec. xii. 4. Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto He jj,akeg no them, I die, but shall make no will. wilL As for my honesty, it shall go with me ; let him that comes after be told of this. When the day that he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over the river. Now the river at that time overflowed the banks in some places ; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken Good-conscience to one Good-conscience to meet him neStSoverr the there, the which he also did, and lent nver- him his hand, and so helped him over. The last doubter ; then said the third, I am a salvation-doubter ; and the fourth said, I am a grace-doubter. I am persuaded you are down boys, and are one with my heart, said the old gentleman. — (Ed.) 4 Pilgrims, mind this. It is as much your duty to strive, in the strength of the Lord, against unreasonable doubts and slavish fears, as against sin ; nay, are they not, in their own nature, the worst of sins, as they spring from infidelity, and dishonour God's precious truth, glorious grace, and everlasting salvation ? Never, never, then, cherish or give way to them, but resist, and shut the door of your hearts against them. — (Mason.) 6 How various is the experience of Christians in the hour of death. Christian and Hopeful inquired ' if the waters were all of a depth.' The answer was, ' You shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe iu the King of the place.' ' What ailed thee, 0 Jordan, that thou wast driven back?' The answer is, ' At the presence of the Lord : at the presence of the God of Jacob.' In proportion as a Christian can say, ' for me to live is Christ,' in that proportion may he hope to find the water shallow, and feel support to his feet in the trying passage. — (Ed.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 213 Ilia last words. words of Mr. LTonest were, Grace reigns. So he left the world. After this, it was noised abroad, that Mr. Valiant- Mr. Valiant for-truth was taken with a summons, summoned, ^y t]ie same post as the other; ami had this for a token that the summons was true, * That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.' Ec. sii. 6. When he understood it, ho called for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father's; ami though with great dif- ficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouhle I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my coarage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I cany with me, to he a wit- ness for me, that I have fought his battles, who now will he my rewardcr. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went, he said, Death, where is thy sting ? ' And is he went down deeper, he said, * Grave, where is thy victory ? ' So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.1 Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Stand- Mr. stand-fastis fast — tms ^r- Stand-fast was he that summoned. t]le rest 0f t]ie Pi]grimS found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground — for the post brought it him open in his hands. The contents whereof were, that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should he so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Stand- fast was put into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you need not doubt of the truth of my message, for here is a token of the truth thereof : ' Thy wheel is broken at the cistern.' Ec. xii. 6. Then he called He calls for Mr. ,mto him Mr. Great-heart, who was Great-heart, their guide, and said unto him, Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company in the days of my pilgrimage ; yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I left behind His speech to nie a wife and five small children; let him- me entreat you, at your return (for I know that you will go, and return to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a conductor to more of the holy pilgrims), that you send to my 1 In the truth of Jesus is victory. He who is valiant for it shall share most of its comforts in life, and in death. 0 Lord, increase our faith in the never-failing word of truth and i.race, for thy glory and our soul's triumph ! — (Mason.) 2 Such is the joy and blessedness of faith ! How does it bring near and realize the sight of Christ in glory I Do we indeed see Qhrist by the eye of faith ? Is he the one, the chief object of our soul ? Verily, then we shall count our days on earth toilsome ones, and long for the full fruition of him in glory. 0 it will he our great glory to see that dear Man, whose blessed head was crowned with thorns, and whose lovely family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath, or shall happen unto me. Tell q, , them, moreover, of my happy arrival bis family. to this place, and of the present [and] late hi condition that I am in. Tell them also of Christian, and Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whither she is gone. I have little or nothing to send to my family, except it be prayers and tears for them; of which it will suffice if thou acquaint them, if peradventure they may prevail. When Mr. Stand-fast had thus set things in order, and the time being come for him to haste him away, he also went down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time in the river ; where- fore Mr. Stand-fast, when he was about half-way in, stood a while and talked to his companions that had waited upon him thither; and he said, This river has been a terror to many ; yea, , , , n • 1 i r nis last word?. the thoughts of it also have often frightened me. Now, methinks, I stand easy, my foot is fixed upon that upon which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, while Israel went over this Jordan. Jos. m. 17. The waters, indeed, are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold ; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end of my journey, my toilsome days are ended. I am going now to seo that head that was crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me.2 I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of ; and wherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. llis name has been to me as a civet-box ; yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me ha3 been most sweet ; and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His word I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faiutings. ' He has held me, and hath kept me from mine ini- quities ; yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his way.'3 face was spit upon, for us. O that we may be living every day upon him ami to him, till we see him as he is I — (Mason.) 3 This speech has been justly admired as one of the most striking passages in the whole work; but it is so plain that it only requires an attentive reader. It may, however, be irorl by of our observation, that, iu all the instances before us, the pflgrima are represented as resting their only dependence, at the closing scene, on the mercy of God, through the righte- ousness and atonement of his Son; and yet recollecting their conscious integrity, boldness in professing and contending fur the truth, love to the cause, example, and words of Christ, 244 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now, while he was thus in discourse, his coun- tenance changed, his strong man howed under him ; and after he had said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased to be seen of them. But glorious it was to see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city.1 As for Christian's children, the four boys that obedience to his precepts, delight in his ways, preservation from their own iniquities, and consistent behaviour, as evidences that their faith was living, and their hope warranted ; and in this way the retrospect conduced to their encouragement. Moreover, they all concur in declaring that, while they left their infirmities behind them, they should take their graces along with them, and that their works would follow them.' — (Scott.) 1 0 who is able to conceive the inexpressible, inconceivable joys of heaven ! How will the heavens echo with joy, when the bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell with her husband for ever ! Christ, the desire of nations, the joy of angels, the delight of the Father ; what solace then must the soul be filled with, that hath the possession of him to all eternity ! 0 what acclamations of joy will there be, when all the children of God shall meet together, without fear of being disturbed by the antichristian and Caiuish brood 1 If you would be better satisfied what the beatifical vision means, my request is, that you would live holily, and go and see. — (Bunyan's Dying Sayings, vol. i. p. 65.) 2 It was not without design that our excellent author tells us, that the four boys, with their wives and children, were suffered to continue in life for a time, for the increase of the church in the place where they dwelt. He doubtless intended to write a Third Part of his ' Pilgrim's Progress,' founded upon this circumstance, with a design, probably to show the influ- ence of real religion and evangelical sentiments on persons in business and in domestic life. — (Ivimey.) 3 The view of the peaceful and joyful death of the pilgrims, cannot but affect every reader ; and many, perhaps, may be ready to say, ' Let me die the death of the righteous, and Christiana brought with her, with their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I came away, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the church in that place where they were, for a time.2 Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account of what I here am' silent about.3 Meantime, I bid my reader Adieu. let my last end be like his ; ' but, except they make it their principal concern to live the life of the righteou?, such a wish will be frustrated. If any man, therefore, doubt whether this allegory do indeed describe the rise and progress of religion in the soul — the beginning, continuance, and termination of the godly man's course to heaven, let him diligently search the Scriptures, and fervently pray to God, from whom alone ' cometh every good and perfect gift,' to enable him to deter- mine this question. But let such as own themselves to be satisfied that it does, beware lest they rest in the pleasure of reading an ingenious work on the subject, or in the ability of developing many of the author's emblems. Let them beware lest they be fascinated, as it were, into a persuasion that they actually accompany the pilgrims in the life of faith and walk- ing with God, in the same measure as they keep pace with the author in discovering and approving the grand outlines of his plan. And let every one carefully examine his state, senti- ments, experience, motives, tempers, affections, and conduct, by the various characters, incidents, and observations, that pass under his review — assured that this is a matter of the greatest consequence. We ought not, indeed, to call any man master, or subscribe absolutely to all his sentiments ; yet the diligent practical student of Scripture can scarcely doubt that the warnings, counsels, and instructions of this singular work agree with that sacred touchstone, or that characters and aetions will at last be approved or condemned by the Judge of the world, in a great degree according to the sentence passed on them in this wise and faithful book. The Lord grant that both tho writer and readers of these observations 'may find mercy in that day,' and be addressed in these gracious words, ' Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for yoa from the foundation of the world.' — (Scott.) THE HOLY WAR, MADE BY S II ADD A I UPON DIABOLUS, FOR THE REGAINING OF THE METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD OR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. By JOHN BUNYAN, The Autiiob op ' The Pilgrim's I'boguf.ss.' 1 have used rimilitudea.' — Ilosca xii. 10. London: Friuted for Dorman Newman, at the King's Arms in the Poultry; and Benjamin Alsop, at the Angel and Bible iu the Poultry, 1682. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. Bunyan's account of the Holy War is indeed an extraordinary book, manifesting a degree of genius, research, and spiritual knowledge, exceeding even that displayed in the ' Pilgrim's Progress. ' To use the words of Mr. J. Montgomery, 'It is a work of that master intelligence, which was privileged to arouse kindred spirits from torpor and inactivity, to zeal, diligence, and success.' It was first published in 16S2, in a small octavo volume, and, like the first edition of the Pilgrim, it was printed in a very superior manner to all the subsequent editions, to a recent period. The por- trait of the author, by White, which faced the title- page, is without doubt the best likeness that has ever appeared of our great allegorist.1 In addition to this is a whole length figure of the author, with a representation of Heart-castle on his left breast ; the town of Mansoul, behind, being partly seen through him ; Emmanuel and his army on the heart side, and Diabolus with his dragons on his right. From the publication of this popular book in 16S2, it has been constantly kept in print, so that it is impossible to calculate the numbers that have been circulated. As time rolls on, the ' Holy War,' allegorized by John Bunyan, becomes more and more popular ; nor can there be a doubt, but that so long as the internal conflict and spiritual warfare between the renewed soul and its deadly enemies are maintained, this book will become in- creasingly popular. The 'Holy War,' although so very extraordinary an allegory, has not been translated into so many languages, nor has it been so much read in English, 1 The original drawing by White, from which he engraved the portrait, is preserved in the print department of the British Museum. An accurate copy from it is prefixed to this edition of bis 'Works. as the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' This would naturally arise from the Pilgrimage being a more simple narrative. It is a journey full of the most striking scenery and incidents, which is read with the deepest interest by all classes, from the children in a work- house to the profoundest Christian philosopher. The facts which are intended to be impressed upon the mind by the force of the allegory, are seen and appreciated by the Christian without requiring much investigation; while the 'Holy War' is carried on under an allegorical representation by no means so transparent. Man's soul is figured under the simile of a town, which having surrendered to an insidious and mortal enemy, is besieged by its lawful Sovereign with all the * pomp and circum- stances ' of war ; the arch-enemy is driven out, the town retaken, new-modelled, and garrisoned by Emmanuel. To the Christian, whose aim and end is peace, war presents a most forbidding aspect. He loves not to. see the garments rolled in blood, nor to hear the dying groans of the wounded, nor the heart- rending cries of the bereaved, especially those of the widow and the orphan. Spoliation and rob- bery are not the pastimes of the child of God, nor is cruelty the element of his happiness or peace. To read of such scenes, produces painfully inter- esting sensations ; but even these are not so strong or intense as those delightful feelings which per- vade the mind while watching the poor pilgrim in his struggles to get through the Slough of Despond, his terror under the flames of Mouut Sinai, his passing unhurt the darts from Beelzebub's castle, and his finding refuge at the Wicket Gate. It is true, that the most delicate Christian must become a stern warrior — the most sensitive ear must bo alarmed with the sound of Diabolus's drum, and 216 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. at times feel those inward groanings which cannot be uttered — pass through « the fiery trial,' and 'endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ;' while at other periods of his experience, flushed with victory, he will cry out, ' Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?' We must fight the good fight of faith, or we can never lay hold on eternal life. We must he engaged in this holy war, and fight or perish. There is no neutrality, no excuse that can be awaiting at the day of judgment. The servant of Christ is there- fore found trusting in the Captain of salvation, furnished with the whole armour of God, with which his soul is clothed by the Holy Spirit — having the shield of faith, the helmet, the breast- plate, the two-edged sword. It was being thus mysteriously, invulnerably armed, that gave the delicate, learned, pious Lady Anne Askew strength to triumph over her agonies, when the Papists dis- jointed every bone and sinew of her body on the rack. Her spiritual armour enabled her with patience to bless God at the stake, when, for re- fusing to worship Antichrist, she was burned in Smithfield, and her soul ascended to heaven in a flaming fiery chariot. It is the same spiritual armour, the same Captain to guide, the same Spirit to sanctify, the same Father to bless us, by which alone we can become more than con- querors over our vigilant and powerful enemies. The Holy war is in this volume presented to us by an old, experienced, faithful warrior; it is an alle- gorical narrative, written by a master hand, guided by deeply penetrating, searching powers of mind. It is his own severe brunts with the great enemy, who is aided by his army of pomps, vanities, lusts, and allurements, many lurking within, disguised to appear like angels, while under their masquerade dress they are very devils. It is written by one who possessed almost boundless resources of im- agination. It is more profound, more deeply spiritual than the pilgrimage from Destruction to the Celestial City ; and to understand its hidden meaning, requires the close and mature application of the renewed mind. There are, alas ! compara- tively few that are blessed with spiritual discern- ment ; and even of these, there are but few inclined to mental investigation and research. These are reasons why it has not been so popular a book as the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' To aid those whose time for reading is limited, notes are given, by which obsolete words and customs are explained, and the reader assisted to appreciate the beauties, and to understand the meaning of this allegory. It is earnestly hoped that many Avill richly enjoy the comforts, instructions, consolations, and strength which the author ardently wished to convey to Zion's warriors, by the study of this important subject. I have already, in my long Introduction to the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' noticed the peculiar genius and originality which are conspicuous in all Bun- yan's works, and which most resplendently appear in his allegorical writings. That genius became hallowed and sanctified by prison discipline, by an intense study of the Sacred Scriptures, and by his controversies with great men of various sects and parties. In the 'Holy War' Bunyan's peculiar genius shines forth in its most beauteous lustre ; the whole is new, genuine, flowing forth from his own deep and rich experience. It is, in fact, the same narrative that he had published under the title of 'Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, or a brief and faithful relation of the exceeding mercy of God, in Christ, to his poor ser- vant John Bunyan.' This simple, heart-affecting narrative, is here related under the allegorical re- presentation of the ' Holy War.' In this, all the circumstances of his conviction of sin, and his con- version to God, are narrated with startling interest from the first alarm — his being roused from a state of death-like lethargy, his opposition to the grace of God, his refusals of the invitations of Emman- uel, and his being at length conquered to become a monument of Divine mercy — a temple of the Holy Ghost. Then came his declension by carnal security, and his misery in that state, until he was finally reconquered ; and his heart is permanently occupied by Emmanuel. The ' Grace Abounding,' aided by the marginal notes of the author to the * Holy War,' forms a very valuable key to the mys- teries of this allegory; without their aid some passages would be found deeply mysterious, and hard to be understood. Nor can this be considered extraordinary, when it is recollected that the whole of the allegory is a revelation of scenes, feelings, hopes, fears, and enjoyments, which are unknown, unfelt, and invisible to all except to those whose minds are enlightened by Divine truth ; and even of these, very few have had the deep and trying experience with which the author was exercised. That the * Holy War ' allegorically represents Bunyan's personal feelings, is clearly declared by him in the poetical Introduction or Address to the Reader, prefixed to the book. He adverts to books of fiction, and solemnly declares — ' I have somewhat else to do, Than with vain stories thus to trouble you, For my part, / [myself) was in the town, Both when 'twas set up, and when pulling down ; I saw Diabolus in his possession, - - Yea, I was there when she own'd him for lord.' A remarkable verse describes his state before conversion — ' When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine, And wallowed in filth as doth a swine ; When she betook herself unto her arms, * jjig Fought her Emmanuel, despis'd his charms,* couusda. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 247 Then I was there, ami did rejoice to see Diabolus anil Mansoul 90 agree.' Some editor, imagining that Bnnyan could never have so rejoiced, forgetting hia own words in the fourth section of his ' Grace Abounding ' — ' It was my deUght to be taken captive by the devil, at his will ' — altered those words to — 'Then I was there, and grieved for to see Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.' This alteration, which perverts the author's meaning, appears in a London edition, 1752, and has been copied into many modern editions, even into those hy Mason and Burder.1 The author having in the ahove lines descrihed his unconverted state, goes on to delineate his convictions in theso words : — — i ' What is here in view, Of mine own knowledge, I dare say is true. I saio the Prince's armed men come down, I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound; Yea, how they set themselves in battle-ray, I shall remember to my dying day' The whole of this address is descriptive of what the author saw, felt, or heard — ' What shall I say ? I heard the people's cries, And saw the Prince wipe tears from Mansoid'9 eyes ; / heard the groans, and saw the joy of many, Tell you of all, I neither will, nor can I ; But by what here I say, you well may see That Mansoul's matchless wars no fables be.' The narrative of this eventful war is authenti- cated by his personal feelings while under the chastising, correcting, hand of his heavenly Father; in his new birth and subsequent experience ; in bringing his soul from darkness to marvellous light, and from the wretched bondage of sin to the glorious liberty of the gospel. This address is closed with a very important notice, which all our readers should keep constantly in mind — it is to attend to the author's key to the allegory, and that is his marginal notes— ' Nor do thou go to work without my key, (In mysteries men soon do lose their way), And also turn it right, if thou woidd'st know My riddle, and would'st with my heifer plough. It lies there in the window,* fare thee well, My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.' The last line strongly reminds us of the author's difficulty to quit the gin and beer-drinking practice of bell-ringing, to which in his youth he was so much addicted. It is recorded in his ' Grace •The margent 1 These words were correctly given in an edition that I published in 1806.— (ED.) - How strange to hear a sermon, on the day of sacred rest, from the words, 'Keep holy the Sabbath day,' accompanied by 'a trible-bob graudsire,' the men labouring and sweating most violently. — (Ed.) The form and order of the narrative is exceed- inu.lv beautiful, and deeply interesting to those win. have lieen engaged in a similar warfare. Passing over the short and vivid narration of the fall of man, our personal feelings are excited hy wit] [ng the methods of grace, adapted hy a covenant" keeping God and Father, to rescue his people from their natural state of Diabolonian slavery. Many of the incidents will bring, to the enlightened reader's recollection, the solemn and powerful im- pressions under which he struggled, when oppi the invitations of Emmanuel. His holy joy, when a sense of pardoning love and mercy came over his soul ; and his anxieties, when in conflict with doubts, and fears, and blood-men. Our young readers must be cautioned not to give way to doubts and fears for their soul's safety, because they have never passed through the sam<; feelings which fitted Bunyan for a sphere of extraordinary usefulness. God bring3 his lambs, and sheep into the fold by such means as are agreeable to his infinite wisdom and grace. Some surrender at the first summons ; others hold out during a long and distressing siege. 'God's ways are not our ways.' All our anxious inquiries should be, Is Emmanuel in Ileart-castle? is he ' formed in me the hope of glory ? ' do I live and believe in him who has immutably decreed that ' whosoever ' — be he rich or poor, learned or un- learned— if he * liveth and believeth in me, shall never die ? ' It matters not, as to my salvation, whether the siege was long or short. The vital question is, Has my heart been conquered; do I love Emmanuel ? If I do, it is because he first loved me, and he changeth not. In proportion to the trouble that I gave to my Conqueror, so should be my zealous, holy, happy obedience to his com- mands. Much is expected from those to whom much has been forgiven. The Conqueror, by his victory, fits us for those peculiar duties to which he intends to devote us in extending his kingdom. In the history of this war, the reader's attention will be naturally arrested by the fact that Man- soul, having voluntarily surrendered to the dominion of Satan, made no effort to relieve herself. No spiritual feelings lurked in the walls to disturb the reign of Diabolus ; not even a prayer or a sigh breaks forth from her heart for deliverance ; she felt not her degradation nor her danger; she was dead while she yet lived— dead in sin ; and from this state would have sunk, as thousands have, from spiritual and temporal death into eternal and irretrievable ruin. The first conception of a scheme for her deliverance from such awful danger, in the celestial court of her Creator; grace lays the foundation, and raises the top-stone. AH the redeemed of God will unite in one song, « Not unto us, 0 Lord ; not unto us, but unto thy name give 24S ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. glory.' A covenant is made, ordered in all things and sure, to save Mansoul ; and from this emanates the vast, the costly design of her deliverance. To effect this great object, the Mosaic dispensation — the Law, with all its terrors, is sent, in fearful array, to conquer or destroy. This is allegorically represented under the similitude of an army of forty thousand warriors, • stout, rough-hewn men, fit to break the ice, and make their way by dint of sword. ' They are under the command of four captains, each with his ensign — Boanerges and Thunder, Conviction and Sorrow, Judgment and Terror, Execution and Justice. To resist this force, Diabolus arms the town, hardens the con- science, and darkens the understanding. He places at Eargate a guard of deaf men, under old Mr. Prejudice, and plants over that important gate two great guns, Highmind and Heady. He arms Mansoul with the whole armour of Satan, which is very graphically described. Summons after summons is unheeded. The death of friends, sick- ness, and trouhles, pass by apparently without any good result. They ' will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely. ' At length, the town is assaulted, conscience becomes alarmed, but the will remains stubborn. The beleaguering of the town — planting the ensigns — throwing up batteries — the slings casting, with irresistible force, portions of the Word into the mind — the battering- rams beating upon the gates, especially Eargate — exciting alarm under the fear of the just and awful punishment due to sin — all are described with an extraordinary knowledge of military terms and tactics. The episode of the three volunteers who enlisted under Shaddai, into Captain Boanerges's company — Tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man's- invention — are inimitably beautiful. When they were caught in the rear, and taken prisoners — ' as they did not live so much by religion as by the fates of fortune' — they offer their services to Diabolus, and are joined to Captain Anything's company. After a few sharp assaults, convictions of sin alarm the conscience, and six of Diabolus's new Aldermen are slain with one shot. Their names are well worthy an attentive consideration, showing what open vices are abandoned upon the soul being first terrified with the fear of retribution — Swearing, Whoring, Fury, Stand-to-lies, Drunk- enness, and Cheating. Alarms are continued by day and night, until it is said of Mansoul, ' Upon all her pleasant things there was a blast, and burning instead of beauty ; with shows of the shadow of death.' Thus was it with David — 'My soul is cast down within me: deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy water- spouts ; all thy waves and thy bdlows are gone over me. ' Vs. xlii. 6, 7. All the assaults of Moses and the Law are in- effectual ; the gates remain closed against her King and God. The thunders of Sinai and the voice of the prophets may alarm, but cannot conquer Man- soul. The thundering, terrifying captains appeal to the celestial court, and Emmanuel — God with us — condescends to fight the battle, and secure the victory. The angelic hosts desire to look into these things — they are the peers of the heavenly realm — the news ' flew like lightning round about the court' — and the greatest peers did covet to have commissions under Emmanuel. The captains that accompany him in this grand expedition are Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience. Mansoul is to be won by persuasion to receive her Saviour. The cost of the enterprise is vast in- deed ; the army is numerous as our thoughts, and who can number ' the multitude of his thoughts ?' The battering rams and slings, we are told by the margin, mean the books of Sacred Scripture, sent to us by the influence of the Holy Ghost. Em- manuel is irresistible — Mansoul is taken — Diabolus is dragged out, stripped of his armour, and sent to the parched places in a salt land, 'seeking rest, but finding none.' The heart at first trembles lest punishment should be justly poured out upon her for treason, but it becomes the throne of its lawful King ; and instead of God's anger, his pardon and blessings are proclaimed, and Mansoul is filled with joy, happiness, and glory. Reader, can you call to mind the peace and holy enjoyment which took possession of your soul, when — having passed through the fears and hopes, the terrors and alarms, of the new birth — you sat down, for the first time, at the table of the Lord, to celebrate the wonders of his grace ? Then you rejoiced in hope full of immortality ; then you could exclaim, ' 0 tidings ! glad tidings ! good tidings of good, and of great joy to my soul ! ' ' Then they leaped and skipped upon the walls for joy, and shouted, Let Emmanuel live for ever !' And then you fondly thought that happiness was secure for the rest of your pilgrimage, until your glorified spirit should enter into the celestial city. Alas ! your enemies were not dead. They in- sidiously seized an unguarded moment. Remiss in watchfulness, and formal in prayer, Carnal-security invaded the mind. Your ardent love is cooled — intercourse with heaven is slighted — and by slow degrees, and almost unperceived, Emmanuel leaves Heart-castle ; and the prince of the power of the air promotes the treason, and foments rebellion, by the introduction of loose thoughts, under the name of harmless mirth. The news soon reach Diabolus, and an infernal conference, or dialogue of devils, is revealed by our author; who had watched the course and causes of spiritual declen- sion, and was not ' ignorant of Satan's devices.' ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 24'J The malignant craft and subtilty displayed in Satan's counsel, are described in a manner far beyond an ordinary imagination. They display the almost unbounded resources of genius and in- vention so richly possessed by tho prince of alle- gorists, John Banyan, It reminds us of the dia- logue between Lucifer and Beelzebub, in that rare work by Barnardine Ochine, a reformer, published in 1549, called, A Tragedy or Dialogue of (he un- just usurped Primacy of (he llishop of Borne.1 In this is represented, in very popular language, the designs of Lucifer to ruin Christianity by the establishment of Popery. Lucifer thus addresses his diabolical conclave — ' I have devised to make a certain new kingdom, replenished with idolatry, superstition, ignorance, error, falsehoods, deceit, compulsion, extortion, treason, contention, discord, tyranny, and cruelty; with spoiling, murder, ambi- tion, filthiness, injuries, factions, sects, wickedness, and mischief; in the which kingdom all kinds of abomination shall be committed. And notwith- standing that it shall be heaped up with all kinds of wickedness, yet shall the [professed] Christian men think it to be a spiritual kingdom, most holy and most godly. The supreme head of this king- dom shall be a man which is not only sinful, and an abominable robber and thief, but he shall be sin and abomination itself; and yet, for all that, shall be thought of Christian men a God in earth, and his members, being most wicked, shall be called of men most holy. God sent his Son into the world, who, for the salvation of mankind, hath humbled himself even to the death of the cross. The Pope the I will send my son into the world, who, dc\u'sson. £or ^e destruction and condemnation of mankind, shall so advance himself that he shall take upon him to be made equal with God.' ' I will, by craft and diligence, shadow and cover superstition and idolatry with a fair face, and beauty of holy ceremonies, that men shall be made so drunken and so amazed with this outward pomp and show, that they shall not be able to discern truth from falsehood, when they be drowned in the flood of idolatry and superstition.' ' I will cause them to be most cruel tyrants and butchers of Christ and his members, under a pretence of zeal to the house of God. They shall hide their un- cleanness and filthy behaviour with an exceeding wide cloak of hypocri.-y, and with glorious shining titles.' Thus this intrepid reformer opened up the origin, the development, the desolations, of Popery; and, with a similar knowledge of Satan's devices, the Nonconformist Bunyau shows the means by which Diabolus urges the young Christian into a backsliding state. ' Let our Diabolonian friends in Mansoul draw it into sin, for there is nothing From a copy in the Editor's library. like sin to devour Mansoul; while we will send against it an army of twenty or thirty thousand sturdy terrible doubters. Sin renders Mansoul sick and faint, while doubts are by it made fierce and strong.' At length Diabolus and his army of doubts march from Hellgate Hill to Mansoul : the order in which they are placed, and the Dames of the officers, are very instructive, as well as curious. Election-doubters, under Captain Rage — Vocation- doubters, commanded by Captain Fury — Grace- doubters, led by Capt. Damnation — Faith-doubters, under Captain Insatiable — Perseverance-doubters, led by Captain Brimstone — Resurrection-doubter^, by Captain Torment — Salvation-doubters, under Captain Noease — Glory-doubters, commanded by Captain Sepulchre — Felicity-doubters, led by Cap- tain Pasthope. Incredulity was Lord-general, and Diabolus was King and Commander-in-chief. The roaring of the drum — their alarming outcries, Hell- fire ! Hell-fire ! — their furious assaults — the mul- titude of doubts — and the perplexity of poor dis- tracted Mansoul, are admirably and truly narrated. The town makes a sortie in the night, but Dia- bolus and his legions, experienced in night work, drive them back, and severely wound Captains Faith, Hope, and Experience. Again the gates are assaulted, and Diabolus and his doubters gain an entrance, by the senses, into the town, but cannot force the heart ; and Mansoul is reduced to the greatest straits and sadness. In this ex- tremity, prayers are incessantly offered up to Em- manuel ; but, for a long time, they can obtain no satisfactory answers. Both parties are on the alert; but Diabolus finds it impossible, either by treachery, or by storming with his legion of doubts, to gain possession of Ileart-castle. Being worsted in a general engagement, the doubters are slain, and are buried with their armour; yea, all that did but smell of a Diabolonian doubter. The arch- fiend now enters upon a new mode of assault — he sends for a reinforcement, to try the effect of per- secution ; and obtains an army of fifteen thousand bloodmen, from the province of Loathgood. To these were added ten thousand new doubters, under their commander old Incredulity. These blood- men were ' rugged villains, and had done feats heretofore;' ' they were mastiffs, and would fasten upon father, mother, brother, yea, upon the Prince of princes. Among their officers is Captain Pope, whose colours were the stake, the flame, and tho good man in it.' To these I would humbly suggest the propriety of adding one more — it is Captain State-religion, upon whose standard should be re- presented the Nonconformist John Bunyan in a. damp dreary dungeon, writing his 'Pilgrim's Pro- gress, ' with his poor blind child at his feet. 0 persecutor, whether you burn or imprison a Non- conformist, or harass him in Ecclesiastical courti, Z-2, 250 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. or seize his goods to support forms or ceremonies which he helieves to be Antichristian, your com- mander is old Incredulity — your king is Diabolus! The Woodmen send a summons to Mansoul ' as hot as a red hot iron,' threatening fire and sword, and utter destruction ; but the God who visited our pious author in prison, and cherished and com- forted him in his twelve years' sufferings under persecution, came to the relief of Mansoul. The Diabolonian army is routed — the doubters are slain, excepting a few who escaped — the bloodmen or persecutors were not to be slain, but to be taken alive. The prisoners are brought to trial, with all the forms and solemnities of law ; and the narra- tive concludes with a most admirable charge from Emmanuel to keep Mansoul in a state of the most prayerful vigilance. Enemies still lurk within, to keep her humble ; that she may feel her depend- ence upon God, and be found much in communion with him. • Believe that my love,' says Emman- uel, ' is constant to thee. Watch, hold fast, till I come.' In the whole detail of this war, very singular skill is manifested. A keen observer of all that passed before him, aided by a most retentive me- mory, and a fertile imagination, enabled our pil- grim forefather to gain much knowledge in a short time. He had been engaged, as a private soldier, in the Civil war ; and was at the siege of Leices- ter, when it was taken by Prince Rupert. This gave him a knowledge of the meauing of trumpet ©r bugle sounds; so that, when the trumpeters made their best music, in the expectation of Em- manuel's speedy assistance to help Mansoul, Dia- bolus exclaims, ' What do these madmen mean ? they neither sound to boot and saddle, nor horse and away, nor a charge.' Bunyan had been released from his tedious and cruel imprisonment for conscience sake ahout ten years, when he published the 'Holy War.' In this interval of time, although labouring inces- santly to win souls to Christ, being a very popular preacher, yet he must have found time to gratify his incessant thirst for knowledge ; gaining that he might communicate, and in imparting it, re- ceiving into his own mind a rich increase. This would douhtless lead him to read the best of our Puritan and Nonconformists' works, so that we find him using the Latin words primum mobile, carefully noting in the margin that he meant 'the soul;' and from hence he must have scraped acquaintance with Python, Cerberus, and the furies of mythology, whom he uses in this war, describing accurately their names and qua- lities. At first sight, it may seem strange that the armies, both within and without the city, should be so numerous, as it is but one man who is the object of attack and defence — one human body, containing one immortal Mansoul ; but if the reader reflects that every soldier represents a thought, who can number them ? At one time, by the sin-sickness, eleven thousand — men, women, and children — died in Mansoul ! this is interpreted by Bunyan to mean, that the men represented ' good thoughts' — the women, 'good conceptions' — and the children, 'good desires.' The town is assaulted by thirty or forty thousand doubts, very curiously and methodically arranged. The value of the marginal notes is very great, throwing immediate light upon many difficult pas- sages. Every reader should make free use of tho key which lieth in the window.* The , value of this key is seen by a few quotations. Thus, when Diabolus beat, a charge against the town, my Lord Reason was wounded in the head — the brave Lord Mayor, Mr. Under- standing, in the eye — and 'many also of the inferior sort were not only wounded, but slain outright.' The margin explains this as meaning ' Hopeful thoughts.'1 When the enemy broke into the town at Feelgate, during a night of terror, and got possession, it is described as being accompanied by all the horrors of war — by atrocities probably even greater than those perpetrated by Rupert's cavaliers at Leicester. ' Young children were dashed in pieces, yea, those unborn were destroyed.' ' The women were beastlike abused.' This is interpreted by two marginal notes — ' Good and tender thoughts,' 'Holy conceptions of good.' The storming of Leicester took place in tho night, and furnished Bunyan, who was an eye- witness, with a correct notion of raising the stan- dard, beleaguring the city, and forcing the gates, and a lively view of the desolations he describes. Awful as is his account of the sacking of Man- soul, with its murders and desolations, yet it may prove to be a good description of the conduct of Prince Rupert and his cavaliers at the storming of Leicester. Strike out the name of Diabolus, and insert Rupert, and put Leicester instead of Mansoul, and the account of the brutal conduct of the Royal army will be found accurately described. Lord Clarendon, who wrote to gain the smiles of royalty, plainly tells us that, when Prince Rupert and the King took Leicester, ' The conquerors pursued their advantage with the usual license of rapine and plunder, and miserably sacked the whole town, without any distinction of persons and places. Churches and hospitals, as well as other houses, were made a prey to the enraged and greedy soldier, to the exceeding regret of the King.' Clarendon goes on to account for the exceeding regret of Charles : it Avas because many 1 See subsequent page. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR, 251 of liia faithful friends bad suffered, in the confu- sion of this murderous scene of rapine and plunder. In the ' Holy War,' Bunyan has not heen, nor can ho ever be, charged with copying from any author who preceded him. Erasmus, Gouge, and many other of our Reformers, Puritans, and Non- conformists, commented upon the Christian's arm- our and weapons. Benjamin Reach, about the time that the ' Holy War ' appeared, published his War with the Devil, or, The Young Mans Conflict with the Powers of Darkness. It is a scries of admirable poetical dialogues on the corruption and vanity of youth, the horrible nature of sin, and deplorable condition of fallen man ; with the rule of conscience and of true conversion. It has no- thing allegorical in it, but is replete with practical warnings and exhortations. No one had ever at- tempted, under the form of an allegory, to describe the internal conflict between the powers of dark- ness and of the mind in the renewed man ; the introduction of evil thoughts and suggestions, their unnatural union with the affections, and the off- spring of such union, under the name of Diabolo- nians, who, when Mansoul is watchful unto prayer, lurk in the walls ; but when in a backsliding state, are tolerated and encouraged openly to walk the streets. Some have supposed that there is a slight similarity between the description, given by John Chrysostom of the battle between the hosts of hell and mankind, and John Bunyan 's ' Holy War.' It is not at all probable that Bunyan was acquainted with Chrysostom on the Priesthood, which was then locked up in the Greek language, but has been since translated into English. Nor can we And any similarity between the work of the pious apostolically descended tinker, and the learned Greek father. Chrysostom 's picture of the battle is contained in n letter to Basil, urging him to become a minister of the gospel. It is in words to this effect: — ' Pent up in this body, like a dungeon, we cannot discern the invisible powers. Could you behold the black army of the devil and his mad conflict, you would witness a great and arduous battle, in which there is no brass or steel,1 no horses or wheeled chariots, no fire and arrows, but other instruments much more formidable. No breastplates, or shields, or swords, or darts. The very sight of this accursed host is alone sufficient to paralyze a soul which is not imbued with courage furnished by God, and with even greater foresight than valour. Could you calmly survey all this array and war, you would see, not torrents of blood or dead bodies, but fallen 60uls ! You would see wounds so grievous, that human war, with all its horrors, is mere child's play or idle pastime, in comparison to the sight of 1 All Diabolus's army are by Bunyan clothed in iteel armour. -(Ed.) so many souls struck down every day by Satan.' Thus this learned Greek lather very eloquently represents the great battle of Satan and his costs, against all mankind. But for a description of the internal conflict, Diabolus and his army of doubters and bloodmen arrayed against the powers of Man- soul, Bunyan stands alone and most beautifully resplendent. In this war there is no combination of souls to resist Satan, nor can any human powers in any way assist us in the trying battle. Here, 0 my reader, you and 1 must stand alone far from the aid of our fellow-men. We must call upon all the resources of our minds, and while there is unity within, no resisting or treason — while the Holy Spirit strengthens and inclines the will, the under- standing-, the conscience, the affections, and all our powers are united to resist Satan, God fights for us, and the heart is safe under the gracious smiles of our Emmanuel. May we never forget that our spiritual life is totally dependent upon him, in whom, as to the body, we live, and move, and have our being. But when doubts enfeeble us, and bloodmen harass us, there is no help from man. No pope, cardinal, archbishop, minister, or any human power can aid us ; all our hope is in God alone ; every effort for deliverance must be by fer- vent prayer and supplication, from the heart and conscience, directly to God. Our petitions must be framed by the Holy Ghost, and presented unto Shaddai, not by priest or prelate, but by our Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, the only intercessor and mediator. The attentive reader of Bunyan 's works will notice the difference between the trial of Faithful in the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and that of the pri- soners brought to the bar as traitors in the ' Holy War.' The judge and jury are particularly over- bearing to Faithful, much more so than to the Diabolonians. Still there is one very strong fea- ture in which they all agree. The prisoners are all brought to their trial, not that their guilt or innocence might be proved, but in order to their condemnation and execution. All are brought up in chains, a custom which then was very prevalent, if not universal, but which is now only read of as a cruel practice of a bygone age. There are a few riddles or questions arising out of this narrative, the solving of which may afford instructive amusement to the reader. What is meant by the drum of Diabolus, which so terrified Mansoul ? Refer to Ga. iii. lO. He. vi. 4-3. 1 .'n. v. V, H» xii. 23. Why Avere the troops numbered at forty thousand, that came up to alarm and convince Mansoul of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, while Emmanuel's army is not numbered ? See Job. iv. 13. He. xii. 22. When the doubters are slain or driven from Mansoul, after her conversion, they go 252 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. straggling up and down the country enslaving the barbarous people (the margin informs us that the unbeliever never fights the doubters). Why do they go by fives, nines, and seventeens ? Do these odd numbers refer to the nine companies of doubters, and eight of bloodmen, who were under the com- mand of five fallen angels — Diabolus, Beelzebub, Lucifer, Legion, and Apollyon? Fearful odds against a poor fallen sinner, five evil spirits, or nine classes of doubts, or these nine doubts united to eight kinds of bloodmen or persecutors. In a work so highly allegorical, and founded upon a plain narrative of facts in the experience of the author, the editor deemed it needful to add numerous notes. These contain all that appeared to be explanatory or illustrative in other commen- taries, with many that are original ; obsolete terms and customs are explained ; references are given to about fifty passages in the ' Grace Abounding,' that the reader's attention may be constantly directed to the solemn truths which are displayed under this delightful allegory. The editor has the consolation of hoping that the result of great labour can do no injury. Those whose deep expe- rience in the spiritual warfare enables them to un- derstand and enjoy the allegory, can pass them by; while many of the poor but immortal souls engaged in this warfare, who are not deeply experienced, may receive aid and encouragement to persevere, until they shall exclaim, The battle is fought, the victory is one, eternal praises to the great and gracious Emmanuel. Reader, I must not detain you much longer from the pleasure of entering upon a narrative so deeply interesting to all who possess the understanding- heart — an allegory, believed by very many to be the most beautiful and extraordinary that mere human genius ever composed in any language. 0 consider the worth of an immortal soul ! God sent his servants, Moses and the prophets, with their slings and battering-rams, their great and precious promises to the early propliets, who have faithfully handed them down to us ; and then came Emmanuel and his heavenly army, and all this to conquer Mansoul ! Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sin. The blood of bulls and of goats cannot wash out our stains. We must be found in Christ as part of his mystical body, and thus in perfection obey the Divine law, and then, through the sin-atoning offering of Emmanuel, God's equal, eternal Son, a fountain is opened for sin and uncleanness, in which our souls, being puri- fied, shall be clothed with the garment of salvation. Who can calculate the worth of his immortal soul, that God himself should pay 60 costly a price for its redemption! May the desire of every reader be, 0 that my soul may be engaged in this holy war, my ears be alarmed by the infernal drum of Diabolus, that my Heart-castle may receive the King of salvation, and Christ be found there the hope of glory. Then may we feel the stern neces- sity of incessant watchfulness and prayer against carnal security, or any other cause of backsliding, with its consequent miseries. Well may the world wonder, how a poor travel- ling tinker could gain the extraordinary know- ledge, which enabled him to become the greatest allegorical writer that the world ever saw. The reason is obvious, he lived and moved and had his being in the atmosphere of God's revealed will. It was this that enabled him to take the wings of the morning, and fly not only to the uttermost parts of the visible but of the invisible world ; to enjoy scenes of light and glory, such as Gabriel contemplated when he came from heaven to Naz- areth, and revealed to Mary her high destiny — that her Son should be the promised Saviour, who should bear the government of the universe upon his shoulders — whose name was Wonderful — Coun- sellor— the Mighty God — the everlasting Father — the Prince of Peace — Emmanuel, God with us. Bunyan's industry and application must have been intense, he could not by possibility for a single moment say, ' soul take thine ease,' inglorious, de- structive ease. His hands had to labour for his bread, and to provide for a most exemplary wife aud four childern, one of them blind. There was no hour of his life when he could have said to his soul. Let all thy noble powers be absorbed in eating, drinking, being merry — mere animal gratifications. The Holy War, the solemn results depending upon it, salvation or eternal ruin, the strong desire to glorify Emmanuel, the necessity to labour for his household — that blessed industry left him no op- portunity for weaving a web of unmeaning casuistic subtilties, in which to entangle and engulph his soul, like a Puseyite or a German Rationalist. The thunders and lightnings of Sinai had burnt up all this wood, hay, and stubble, and with child-like simplicity he depended upon the Holy Spirit, while drawing all his consolations and all his spiritual supplies from the sacred Scriptures. Bunyan's narrative of the Holy War, from its commencement in the fall of man to that splendid address of Emmanuel with which it concludes, has been the study of the Editor for more than forty years, and he hopes that no future year of the residue of his life will be spent without reading this solemn, soul-stirring, delightful narrative. Hacknet, April 1851. GEO. OfFOR. TO THE HEADER, "Tis strange tome, (Lai lihej thai love to tell Things done of old, yea, and that do excel Their equals in historiology, Speak not of Mansoul'a wars, but lei them lie Dead, like, old fables, or such worthless things, That to the reader no advantage brings: When men, let them make what they will their own, Till they know this, are to themselves unknown. Of stories I well know there 's divers sorts, Some foreign, some domestic ; and reports Are thereof made, as fancy leads the writers ; By books a man may guess at the inditers. Some will again of that which never was, Nor will be, feign, and that without a cause, Such matter, raise such mountains, tell such things Of men, of laws, of countries, and of kings : And in their story seem to be so sage, And with such gravity clothe ev'ry page, That though their frontispiece say all is vain, Yet to their way disciples they obtain.1 But, readers, I have somewhat else to do, Than with vain stories thus to trouble you ; Christians What here I say, some men do know so well, They can with tears and joy the story tell. The town of Mansoul is well known to many, Nor are her troubles doubted of by any Scrimures. ^na^ are acquainted with those histories That Mansoul, and her wars, anatomize. Then lend thine ear to what I do relate Touching the town of Mansoul and her state, How she was lost, took captive, made a slave ; And how against him set, that should her save. Yea, how by hostile ways, she did oppose Her Lord, and with his enemy did close. For they arc true ; he that will them deny Must needs the best of records vilify. Tor my part, I (myself) was in the town, Both when 'twas set up, and when pulling down, I saw Diabolus in his possession, And Mansoul also under Ins oppression. Yea, I was there when she ownd him for lord, And to him did submit with one accord. 1 Very few persons can imagine what trumpery trash was circulated by hawkers and chapmen in Banyan's time, and even to the period when the Tract Society was established. Lying wonders and lewd stories were eagerly read, to the de- struction of millions. Thanks to the piety of Sunday-school teachers, their supplications were heard, and our youth, when taught to read, are now supplied with nutritious literary food, by the aid of that iuvaluable society. — (Ed.) When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine, And wallowed in tilth as doth a swine; When she betook herself unto her anus, Fought her Emmanuel, despis'd his charms, n;s , Then I was there, and did rejoice to see Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.2 Let no men, then, count me a fable-maker, Nor make my name or credit a partaker Of their derision; what is here in view, Of mine own knowledge, I dare say is true. I saw the prince's armed men come down, By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town. I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound, And how his forces covcr'd all the ground. Yea, how they set themselves in battle-ray, I shall remember to my dying day. I saw the colours waving in the wind, And they within to mischief how combin'd, To ruin Mansoul, and to make away Her prinwm mobile3 without delay. rter Sot-i. I saw the mounts cast up against the town, And how the slings were placed to beat it down. I heard the stones fly whizzing by mine ears, What longer kept in mind than got in fears, I heard them fall, and saw what work they made. And how old Mors did cover with his shade De;i;h- The face of Mansoul ; and I heard her cry, Woe worth the day, in dying I shall die ! I saw the battering rams, and how they play'd,* To beat ope Ear-gate, and I was afraid Not only Ear-gate, but the very town, Would by those battering rams be beaten down. I saw the fights, and heard the captains shout, And each in battle saw who faced about ; 1 saw who wounded were, and who were slain; Lwu And who, when dead, would come to life again. I heard the cries of those that wounded were, While others fought like men bereft of fear, And while the cry, Kill, kill, was in mine ears, The gutters ran, not so with blood as tears. Indeed, the captains did not always fight, But then they would molest us day and night ; 2 Bunyan, in his Grace Abounding, No. 4, thru I that awful period of his experience—' It was my delight to be taken captive by the devil at his will.' In IT"'-', and even in Burder's edition, the line is strangely altered to — ' Then I was there, and grieved for to sec.'— r what he hath done to us. So Mainst thev sat down, ftna' called a council held lus and In* t lows, agaii the to«n of 0f War, and considered with them Mansoul. selves what ways and methods they had best to engage in, for the winning to them- selves this famous town of Mansoul ; and these four things were then propounded to be considered of. First. Whether they had best, all of them, to show themselves in this design to the town of Mansoul. Second. Whether they had best to go and sit down against Mansoul, in their now ragged and beggarly guise. Third. Whether they had best to show to Mansoul their intentions, and what design they came about, or whether to assault it with words and ways of deceit. Fourth. Whether they had not best, to some of their companions, to give out private orders to take the advantage, if they see one or more of the principal townsmen, to shoot them ; if thereby thev shall judge their cause and design will the better be promoted. First. It was answered to the first of these pro- To the first pro- posals in the negative, to wit, that it posaL would not be best that all should show themselves before the town, because the appearance of many of them might alarm and fright the town ; whereas a few, or but one of them, was not so likely to do it. And to enforce this advice to take place, it was added further, that if Mansoul was frighted, or did take the alarm, it is impossible, said Diabolus — for he spake now — that we should take the town ; for that none can enter into it with- 1 Mr. Burder supposes that the fall of the BDgelfl took place after the creation of man, because Job says that at the laying the foundation of the world, "the morning .-tar> sang I and the sons of God shouted for joy' (xx.wiii. 7). Bui angels in a fallen Btate had forfeited their high and exalted titles and glory.— (Ed.) '; This agrees with Milton as to the perfect freedom of the will before' the fall :— not immutable; Hi iii r it in ;i,_\ power; ordained tli_\ uiil By nature free.-— [Portidue Luit, li. r.) out its own consent.2 Let therefore but few or but one assault Mansoul, and in mine opinion, s:iid Diabolus, let me be he. Wherefore to this they all agreed, and then to the second proposal they came, namely, Second. Whether they had best to go and sit down before .Mansoul in their now The second pro. nagged and beggarly guise. To which i'"s:'' it was answered also in the negative, l'>y no means; and that because though the town of Mansoul had been made to know and to have to do, before now, with things that are invisible, they did never as yet see any of their fellow-creatures in so sad and rascal condition as they. And this was the advico of that tierce Alecto.3 Then said Apullyon, the advice is pertinent, for even one of us appearing to them as we aro now, must needs both beget and multiply such thoughts in them as will both put them into a consternation of spirit, and necessitate them to put themselves upon their guard. And if so, said he, then, as my lord Alecto3 said but now, it is in vain for us to think of taking the town. Then said that mighty giant Beelzebub, the advice . i i T . . * • j i Beelzebub. that already is given is sate ; tor though the men of Mansoul have seen such things as we once were, yet hitherto they did never behold such things as we now are. And it is best, in mine opinion, to come upon them in such a guise as is common to, and most familiar among them.4 To this, when they had consented, the next thing to be considered was, in what shape, hue, or guise, Dia- bolus had best to show himself, when he went about to make Mansoul his own. Then one said one thing, and another the contrary ; at last Lucifer answered, that in his opinion it was best that his lordship should assume the body of some of those creatures that they of the town had dominion over. For, quoth he, these are not only familiar to them, but being under them, they will never imagine that an attempt should by them be made upon the town ; and, to blind all, let him assume the body of one of these beasts that Mansoul deems to be wiser than any of the rest. Ge. iii. 1. Re. xx. i, 2. This advice was applaud- ed of all ; so it was determined that the giant Diabolus should assume the dragon, for that he was in those days as familiar with the town of Mansoul as now is the bird with the boy. For 3 It is cxident that Bunyan thought thai a fury,whi - hair was a living snake, ought rather to be as generally pictured; but, query, was it in tb< manuscript Diabolus, mistaken by the printer I had given this advice. Some editors navi alt red I but as it is Alecto in all Banyan's own editions, it is here continued. — (Ed.) . * If devils cordially unite in the work o( i oughl Christians to unite in their efforts to promote 1 dom of Christ. We should be ' wisi as serpent*, while harm- li -- as doves.' — (Eo.) oo 258 THE HOLY WAR. nothing that was in its primitive state was at all amazing to them.1 Then they proceeded to the third thing-, which was, Third. Whether they had hest to show their in- The third pro- tentions or the design of his coming posal. ^0 Mansoul, or no. This also was answered in the negative, hecause of the weight that was in the former reasons, to wit, for that Mansoul were a strong people, a strong people in a strong town, whose wall and gates were im- pregnable, to say nothing of their castle, nor can they by any means he won hut by their own con- sent. Besides, said Legion2 (for he gave answer to this), a discovery of our intentions may make them send to their King for aid, and if that be done, I know quickly what time of day it will be with us. Therefore let us assault them in all pre- tended fairness, covering of our intentions with all manner of lies, flatteries, delusive words ; feigning of things that never will be, and promising of that to them that they shall never find. This is the •way to win Mansoul, and to make them, of them- selves, to open their gates to us ; yea, and to desire us too, to come in to them. And the reason why I think that this project will do is, because the people of Mansoul now are every one simple and innocent ; all honest and true ; nor do they as yet know what it is to be assaulted with fraud, guile, and hypocrisy. They are strangers to lying and dissembling lips ; wherefore we cannot, if thus we be disguised, by them at all be discerned ; our lies shall go for true sayings, and our dissimulations for upright dealings. What we promise them, they will in that believe us, especially if in all our lies and feigned words we pretend great love to them, and that our design is only their advan- tage and honour. Now there was not one bit of a reply against this ; this went as current down as doth the water clown a steep descent ; wherefore they go to consider of the last proposal, which was, Fourth. Whether they had not best to give out The fourth pro- orders to some of their company, to posal. shoot some one or more of the prin- cipal of the townsmen, if they judge that their cause may be promoted thereby. This was carried in the affirmative, and the man fO~ 1 In this infernal conference the names are well chosen. Apollyon signifies the Destroyer; Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils ; Lucifer, the Morning Star, a fallen angel, the arch- devil ; Alecto, a heathen name of one of the furies, whose head was covered with snakes, and who was full of vengeance; Tisiphone, another of the furies. — (Burder.) 2 'Legion;' a military term. Among the Romans, five thousand men. An indefinite number. Mar. v. 9. — (Mason.) 8 Resistance to the first sin is of the utmost importance: — ' Sin will at first, ju9t like a beggar, crave One penny or one halfpenny to have ; Ami, it' you grant its first suit, 't will aspire 1'iuiii pence to pounds, and so will stdl mount higher To the whole soul.' — (Bunyan's Caution, vol. ii. p. 575.) that was designed by this stratagem to be de- stroyed was one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called Captain Resistance. And a creat man „„„ „ . • »t i i • /-< • i? • Of Capt. Resist- m Mansoul this Captain Resistance am.-, was; and a man that the giant Diabolus "^ and his band more feared than they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides.3 Now who should be the actor to do the murder, that was the next, and- they appointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, to do it. They thus having ended their council of Avar, rose up, and essayed to do as they The result of had determined. They marched to- their council, wards Mansoul, but all in a manner invisible, save one, only one ; nor did he approach the town in his own likeness, but under the shape and in the body of the dragon.4 So they drew up, and sat down before Ear-gate, for that was the place of hearing for all without the town, as Eye-gate was the place of perspection. So, as I said, he came up with his Diabolus march- train to the gate, and laid his ambus- towuf and calls cado for Captain Resistance within for audience, bow-shot of the town. This done, the giant ascended up close to the gate, and called to the town of Mansoul for audience. Nor took he any with him, but one All-pause,5 who was his orator in all difficult matters. Now, as I said, he being come up to the gate, as the manner of those times was, sounded his trumpet for audience. At which the chief of the town of Mansoul, such as „. T , my Lord Innocent, my Lord Will-be- Mansoul ap- will,6 my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder,7 pea" and Captain Resistance came down to the wall to see who was there, and what was the matter. And my Lord Will-be-will, when he had looked over and saw who stood at the gate, demanded what he was, wherefore he was come, and why he roused the town of Mansoul with so unusual a sound. Diab. Diabolus then, as if he had been a lamb, began his oration, and said ; Gentle- DiabnWs men of the famous town of Mansoul, oration. I am, as you may perceive, no far dweller from you, but near, and one that is bound by the King to do you my homage, and what service I can ; wherefore, that I may be faithful to myself, and to you, I have somewhat of concern to impart unto you. Wherefore grant me your audience, and hear me patiently. And, first, I will assure you, 4 ' The dragon ;' a scriptural name of the devil ; see Re. sii. xiii. — (Ed.) 5 In the early editions this dangerous enemy is called All- pause when first introduced, but always afterwards Ill-pause. -(Ed.) 6 The will by which we determine for or against an action. 7 The Recorder is conscience, by which we judge of an action as good or bad, according to the light we enjoy, whether by the law of nature or by the written law. Conscience records our actions ; cad, in the day of judgment, the book of con- science is one of those which shall be opened. — (Burder.) THE HOLY AVAR. 259 it is not myself, but you; not mine, but your ad- vantage that I seek, by what I now do, as will full well be made manifest by that I bave opened my mind unto you. For, gentlemen, 1 am, to tell v"u tbe truth, come to Bhow you liow you may obtain great and ample deliverance from a bondage that, unawares to yourselves, you are captivated and enslaved under. At tins the town of Mansoul Hanson] began to prick up its ears, and what engaged. js jt( prfty> wuat j3 ;t> thought tbey; and be said, I bave Bomewhat to say to you con- cerning your King, concerning bis law, and also touching yourselves. Touching your King, I know he is great and potent, but yet all that be bath said to you is neither true, nor yet for your advan- tage. 1. It is not true, for that wherewith be hath hitherto awed you shall not come to pass, nor be fulfilled, though you do the thing that he hath forbidden. But if there was danger, what a slavery is it to live always in fear of the greatest of punishments, for doing so small and trivial a tfiing as eating of a little fruit is? 2. Touching _. . , , . his laws, this I say further, they are Pmliolus s sub- * , . •> , tiety made up both unreasonable, intricate, and in- tolerable. Unreasonable, as was hinted before, for that the punishment is not proportioned to the offence. There is great difference and dis- proportion betwixt the life and an apple ; yet the one must go for the other, by the law of your Shaddai. But it is also intricate, in that he saith, first, you may eat of all ; and yet after, forbids the eating of one. And then, in the last place, it must needs be intolerable, forasmuch as that fruit which you are forbidden to eat of, if you are for- bidden any, is that, and that alone, which is able, by your eating, to minister to you a good as yet unknown by you. This is manifest by the very name of tbe tree ; it is called the tree of knoidedge of good and evil ; and have you that knowledge as vet? No, no, nor can you conceive how good, how pleasant, and bow much to be desired to make one wise it is, so long as you stand by your king's commandment. Why should you be holden in ignorance and blindness? Why should you not be enlarged in knowledge and understanding? And now, ah! ye inhabitants of the famous town of Mansoul, to speak more particularly to your- selves, you are not a free people! You are kept 1 Satan may tempt, but cannot force the soul to sin, .Ta. i. 1 1; we are therefore commanded to resist the devil, that he may flee from us. To destroy this resistance, therefore, must he a great point with the enemy. — (Border.) - The artful speech of Diabolus is founded upon the scrip- tural account of the fir>t temptation. ' Ye shall not surely die,' said the father of lies, and he still persists in it. God says, Sinner, thou shalt die; Satan Bays, Thou shalt not die. Which of these ought we to believe? — (Burder.) 3 'That he.' According to Tyrwhitt, p. 113, UK was pre- fixed to proper names by the Saxons emphatically. Shakspeare thus lists it: '1 stand to answer thee, or any he the proudest both in bondage and slavery, and that by a griev- ous threat; no reason being annexed, but so I will have it, BO it shall be. And is it not grievOUB to think on, that that very thing thai you are for- bidden to do, might you but do it, would yield you both wisdom and honour; for then your eves ss\\\ lie opened, and you shall be as gods. Now, since this is thus, quoth he, can you be kept by anv prince in more slavery, and in greater bondage, than you are under this day? You are made un- derlings, and are wrapped up in in conveniences, as I have well made appear. For what bondage greater than to be kept in blindness? Will not reason tell you that it is better to have eyes than to be without them; and so to be at liberty, to be bet- ter than to be shut up in a dark and stinking cave. And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone Captain Resist- shot at Captain Resistance, where he a"cu *1:""- stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in the head ; so that he, to the amazement of the townsmen, and tbe encouragement of Diabolus, fell down dead quite over the wall.1 Now, when Captain Resistance was dead, and he was the only man of war in the town, poor Mansoul was wholly left naked of courage, nor had she now any heart to resist. But this was as the devil would have it.2 Then stood forth that he,3 Mr. Mr. I lllpause, that Diabolus brought with Swaof Man- bim, who was his orator,4 and he ad- Boul- dressed himself to speak to the town of Mansoul: the tenor of whose speech here follows. Illpacse. Gentlemen, quoth he, it is my mas- ter's happiness that he has this day a quiet and teachable auditory,8 and it is hoped by us that we shall prevail with you not to cast off good advice ; my master has a very great love for you, and although, as lie very well knows, that he runs the hazard of the anger of King Shaddai, yet love to you will make him do more than that.0 Nor doth there need that a word more should be spoken to confirm for truth what he hath said ; there is not a word but carries with it self-evidence in its bowels ; tbe very name of the tree may put an end to all controversy in this matter. 1 therefore of thy sort.' Banyan uses it as a mark of contempt. A m - tor would say, ' That fellow, Mr. lllpause.'— (Kd.) 1 Re stance failed in our first mother. .She paused, and it was an Ill-pause; whatever contradicts God's Word should be instantly resisted as diabolical. — (Burder.) A The most imminent danger to the soul is when Satan finds a death-like, quiet, teachable auditory. So it was when Whit- & Id and Wesley, on their godlike mission, roused the who, to a frightful extent, were slumbering on the brink of eternal torments. — (Ed.) • Beware of flattery and hj pocrisy, especially of that cunning craftiness of false teachers whereby thej lie in wail to nnwary souls, and keep them in darkm - that dates the sinner with vain confidence, is much more dangerous than the Mack one i uess, and despair. — (Mawhj 260 THE HOLY WAR. at this time shall only add this advice to you, under, and by the leave of my lord (and with that he made Diabolus a very lo\y conge). Consider his words, look on the tree, and the promising- fruit thereof; remember also that yet you know but little, and that this is the way to know more ; and if your reasons be not conquered to accept of such good counsel, you are not the men that I took you to be. But when the towns-folk saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eye, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, they did as old Illpause advised, they took and did eat thereof. Now this I should have told you before, that even then, when this Illpause was making of his speech to the townsmen, my My Lord inno- Lord Iunoceucy — whether by a shot cency's death. from tiie camp 0f the giant, or from some sinking qualm that suddenly took him, or whether by the stinking breath of that treacherous villain old Illpause, for so I am most apt to think — sunk down in the place where Iip stood, nor could he be brought to life again.1 Thus these two brave men died ; brave men I call them, for they were the beauty and glory of Mansoul, so long as they lived therein ; nor did there now remain any more a noble spirit in Mansoul, they all fell down, and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and became his slaves and vassals, as you shall hear.2 Now these being dead, what do the rest of the The town taken, towns-folk, but as men that had found a and how. fool's paradise, they presently, as afore was hinted, fall to prove the truth of the giant's words ; and first they did as Illpause had taught them, they looked, they considered, they were taken with the forbidden fruit, they took thereof, and did eat ; and having eaten, they became imme- diately drunken therewith ; so they opened the gate, both Eargate and Eyegate, and let in Diabolus with all his bands, quite forgetting their good Shad- dai, his law, and the judgment that he had annexed with solemn threatening to the breach thereof.3 [Chapter II.] [Contents: — Diabolus takes possession of the castle — The Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, is deposed, and a wall built before his house, to darken it — Mr. Conscience, the Recorder, is put out of office, and becomes very obnoxious both to Diabolus and to the inhabitants — My Lord Will- be-will, heartily espousing the cause of Diabolus, is made the principal governor of the town — The image of Shad- dai defaced, and that of Diabolus set up in its stead — Mr. Lustings is made Lord Mayor, and Mr. Forget-good, Recorder — New aldermen appointed — Three forts built to defend the town against Shaddai.] Diabolus, having now obtained entrance in at the gates of the town, marches up to the middle thereof, to make his conquest as sure as he could, and finding by this time the affections of the people warmly inclining to him, he, as thinking it was best striking while the iron is hot, made this further deceivable speech unto them, saying, Alas, my poor Mansoul ! I have done thee indeed this service, as to promote thee to honour, and to greaten thy liberty, but alas! alas! poor Man- soul,' thou wantest now one to defend thee, for assure thyself that when Shaddai shall hear what is done, he will come ; for sorry will he be that thou hast broken his bonds, and cast his cords away from thee. What wilt thou do — wilt thou after enlargement suffer thy privileges to be in- vaded and taken away? or what wilt resolve with thyself? Then they all with one consent said to this bramble, Do thou reign over us. He & enter_ So he accepted the motion, and be- tained for their came the king of the town of Mansoul. This being done, the next thing was to give him possession of the castle, and so of the whole strength of the town. Wherefore into He is possessed the castle he goes — it was that which °nd fortified it Shaddai built in Mansoul for his own lor H™^ delight and pleasure — this now was become a den and hold for the giant Diabolus.4 Now having got possession of this stately palace or castle, what doth he but make it a garrison for himself, and strengthens and fortifies it with all sorts of provision against the King Shaddai, or those that should endeavour the regaining of it to him and his obedience again. This done, but not thinking himself yet secure enough, in the next place, he bethinks ITe ncw.niodel- himself of new-modelling the town ; leth lhe luwu- and so he does, setting up one, and putting down another at pleasure.0 Wherefore my Lord Mayor, whose name was my Lord Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, those he puts out of place and power. As for my Lord Mayor, though he was an un- derstanding man, and one too that MyLoruMayor had complied with the rest of the put out "of town of Mansoul in admitting of the giant into the town, yet Diabolus thought not fit 1 The breath of temptation, entertained for a moment, admits unbelief, and destroys primitive innocence. In a spiritual sense, man died ; and, by the offence of one, judgment came upon all to condemnation. Re. v. 18. — (Burder.) Then peace expired, And every grace fell slaughter'd round her tomb. — (Swain's Redemption^ 3 • Her rash hand, in evil hour, Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she ate : Karth felt the wound, and nature, from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, That all was lost. — {Paradise Lost, B. ix.) 4 His nolle passions, once the blissful seat Of each celestial grace, became the den Of fiends infernal. — (Swain.) 6 God's image of holiness being obliterated. Satan, with all his horrid crew of lusts and vile affections, gained admittance ; the understanding was perverted, and the affections estranged. — (Masou.) THE HOLY WAR. 261 to let him abide in liis former lustre and glory, because he was a seeing man. Wherefore he darkened it not only by taking from him bis office and power, but by building- of a high and strong towei', just between the sun's reflections, and the windows of my lord's palace, :'«„. x. i, 5; by which means his house and all, and the whole of bis habitation, was made as dark as darkness itself. And thus being alienated from the light, he be- came as one that was born blind. Ep, tv. 18, n>. To this his house my lord was confined, as to a prison ; nor might he upon his parole go further than within his own hounds. And now had he had a heart to do for Mansoul, what could lie do for it or wherein could be be profitable to her? So then, so long as Mansoul was under the power and government of Diabolus — and so long it was under him as it was obedient to him ; which was even until by a war it was rescued out of bis hands — so long my Lord Mayor was rather an impediment in, than advantage to, the famous town of Mansoul. As for Mr. Recorder, before the town was taken he was a man well read in the laws of his King, and also a man of courage and faithfulness, to speak truth at every occasion ; and he had a tongue as bravely hung as he had an head tilled with judgment. Now this man, Diabolus The Kecorder put out of could by no means abide, because, place- though he gave his consent to his coming into the town, yet be could not, by all wiles, trials, stratagems, and devices that he could use, make him wholly his own. True, he was much degenerated from bis former King, and also much pleased with many of the giant's laws and service ; but all this would not do, forasmuch as be was not wholly his. He would now and then think upon Shaddai, and have dread He sometimes . -1 , . . , , r his of his law upon him, and then he tust King. W0U1(J speak with a voice as great against Diabolus as when a lion roareth ; J yea, and would also at certain times when his fits were upon him — for you must know that sometimes he had terrible fits — [he would] make the whole town of .Mansoul shake with his voice: and, there- fore, the now king of Mansoul could not abide him." Diabolus therefore feared the Recorder more than any that was left alive in the town of Man- soul, because, as 1 said, his words did shake the whole town ; they were like the rattling thunder, 1 0 sinner, listen now to the voice of conscience, before his awful suggestions drive thee to despair. ' 0 give it leuve lo speak; _ ' (i bear it now, Wliilu useful its advice, as accent! mild.' — (Young.) - The office and power of conscience, the old recorder, is beautifully described. He will sometimes speak, yea, war aloud, testifying for Gud, and against sin. — (Burder.J and also like thunder-claps, Since therefore the giant could not make him wholly his own, what doth he do but studies all that he could to debauch the old gentleman; and by debauchery to stupify his mind, and more harden his heart in wa vanity. Ami as he attempted, so he accomplished his design ; he debauched the man, , , .. , 1 !• 1 1 1 • • "'' IS M1"ri' " I « - - and by little and little so drew lnm into bandied than sin ami wickedness, that at last he was not only debauched as at first, and so by con- sequence defiled, but was almost, at last, 1 say, past all conscience of sin. Ami this was the furthest Diabolus could go. Wherefore he be- thinks him of another project; and that was to persuade the men of the town that Mr. Recorder was mail, and so not to he regarded : and for this he urged Ins fits, and said, If he he himself, why doth he not do thus always? but, quoth he, as all mad folks have their tits, and in them their raving language, so hath this old and doating gentleman. Thus, by one means or another, he „., .,,*',, , ,. , , "ie town taken quickly got Mansoul to Blight, neglect, oit from heed- and despise whatever Mr. Recorder "'g0 could say.3 For besides what already you have heard, Diabolus bad a way to make the old gentle- man, when he was merry, unsay and deny what he in his fits had affirmed ; and, indeed, this was the next way to make himself ridiculous, ami to cause that no man should regard him. Also, now he never spake freely for King Shaddai, but always by force and constraint ; besides, he would at one time be hot against that at which at n„„.consc:ence another he would hold his peace, so b5«nnea so 1 rnliculous as uneven was he now in his doings. «ith carnal Sometimes be would be as if fast asleep, and again sometimes as dead, even then when the whole town of Mansoul was in her career after vanity, and in her dance after the giant's pipe. Wherefore, sometimes, when Mansoul did use to be frightened with the thundering voice of the Recorder that was, and when they did tell Diabolus of it, he would answer that what the old gentle- man said was neither of love to him nor pity to them, but of a foolish fondness that he had to be prating ; and so would hush, still, and put all to quiet again. And that he might leave no argu- ment unurged that might tend to make them secure, ho said, and said it often, 0 Mansoul ! con- sider that notwithstanding the old gentleman'.-, rage, and the rattle of his high and thundering words, you hear nothing of Shaddai himself, when, liar and deceiver that he was, every outcry of Mr. Recorder against the sin of Mansoul Wi 3 This is the old device of Satan. It was thus hi poor Christian, in the PUgrmt Progrui, when first alarmed soul's welfare— 'They thought that some frcuzy dis- temper had got into his head.'— (ED.) ;62 THE HOLY "WAR. voice of God in him to tliem. But lie goes on and Satanical says, You see that he values not the rhetonc i0SS) noi. rebe]lion of the town of Man- soul, nor will he trouble himself with calling of his town to a reckoning for their giving of themselves to me. lie knows that though ye were his, now you are lawfully mine; so, leaving us one to another, he now hath shaken his hands of us.1 Moreover, 0 Mansoul! quoth he, consider how I have served you, even to the uttermost of my power ; and that with the best that I have, could get, or procure for }Tou in all the world : besides, I dare say, that the laws and customs that you now are under, and by which you do homage to me, do yield you more solace and content than did the paradise that at first you possessed. Your liberty also, as yourselves do very well know, has been jrreatly widened and enlarged by His flatteries. & , T i> i j. me ; whereas I found you a pent-up people. I have not laid any restraint upon you ; you have no law, statute, or judgment of mine to frighten you ; I call none of you to account for your doings, except the madman (you Conscience. f , ° T \ , , w. , know who I mean). 1 have granted you to live, each man, like a prince, in his own, even with as little control from me as I myself have from you. And thus would Diabolus hush up, and quiet the town of Mansoul, when the Recorder, Men sometimes . . , angry with their that was, did at times molest them; yea, and with such cursed orations as these would set the whole town in a rage and fury against the old gentleman ; yea, the rascal crew at some times would be for destroying of him. They have often wished, in my hearing, that he had lived a thousand miles off from them : his company, his words, yea, the sight of him, and especially when they remembered how in old times he did use to threaten and condemn them — for all he was now so debauched — did terrify and afflict them sore.2 But all wishes were vain ; for I do not know how, unless by the power of Shaddai, and his wisdom, he was preserved in being amongst them. Besides, his house was as strong as a castle, and stood hard to a stronghold of the town. Moreover, if at any time any of the crew or rabble attempted to make him away, he could pull up the sluices, and let in such floods, as would drown all round about him. 1 Liars ought to have good memories; just before this the devil said, ' When Shaddai shall hear what is done, he will come.' .Now he tells them, ' He hath shako' his hauds of us,' or entirely given us up.— (Ed.) - Conscience, in natural men, is very unequal and irregular in its opposition to sin ; yet by tits and starts he will cry out, and so frighten the sinner, that he wishes him ' a thousand miles off,' so as to give him no disturbance. The powers of conscience cannot be utterly defaced. — (Buider.) But to leave Mr. Recorder, and to come to my Lord Will-be-will, another of the gentry of the famous town of Mansoul. This Will-be-will was as high-born as any man in Man- soul, and was as much, if not more, a freeholder than many of them were: besides, if I remember my tale aright, he had some privilege peculiar to himself in the famous town of Mansoul. Now, together with these, he was a man of great strength, resolution, and courage ; nor in his oc- casion could any turn him away. But I say, whether he was proud of his estate, privileges, strength, or what — but sure it was through pride of something — he scorns now to be a slave in Man- soul ; and therefore resolves to bear office under Diabolus, that he might, such an one as he was, be a petty ruler and governor in Mansoul.3 And, headstrong man that he was, thus he began be- times; for this man, when Diabolus did make his oration at Ear-gate, was one of the first that was for consenting to his words, and for accepting of his counsel as wholesome, and that was for the opening of the gate, and for letting him into the town : wherefore Diabolus had a kindness for him, and therefore he designed for him a place ; and perceiving the valour and stoutness of the man, he coveted to have him for one of his great ones, to act and do in matters of the highest concern.4 So he sent for him, and talked with him of that secret matter that lay in his breast, The will takes but there needed not much persuasion place under • .i - .. ., <..:, i. ._ l)h in the case ; for at first he was liabolus. willing that Diabolus should be let into the town, so now he was as willing to serve him there. When the tyrant therefore perceived the willing- ness of my lord to serve him, and that his mind stood bending that way, he forthwith made him the captain of the castle, governorof the Flesh.' wall, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul ; &en:,es- yea, there was a clause in his commission that nothing without him should be done in all the town of Mansoul. So that now, next to Diabolus himself, who but my lord Will-be-will in all the town of Mansoul ; nor could anything now be done, but at his will and pleasure, throughout the town of Mansoul. He had also one nIr. Mind, my Mr. Mind5 for his clerk, a man to Lord's clerk. speak on, every way like his master ; for he and 3 The will scorns to be a slave, but plunges into the worst of slavery — that to Satan and to sin ; and in that slavery must perish, unless emancipated aud redeemed by Christ. — (En.) 4 The will is a lord, a person of great importance, a govern- ing faculty ; and there could be no sin till the will consented to the temptation. In fallen man, it is not subject to the law of God, but obstinately opposed to it, and therefore a fit deputy for the devil. — (Border.) 0 The mind or judgment, whereby we distinguish between good and evil, lawful and unlawful. 2 Co. iii. 14. Tit. i. 15.— (Mason.) How awfully has sin fettered man, and made him a slave.— (En.) THE HOLY WAT5. 203 his lord were in principle one, and in practice not far asunder. Ro. riii ;. And now was Mansoul brought under to purpose, and made to fulfil the lusts of the will and of the mind. Bui it will not out of my thoughts, what a desper- ate one this Will-he-will was, when power was put into his hand. First, be flatly deuied that he owed any .sUit or s.-rvicc to his former prince and liege Lord. 'I'll- done, in the next place he took an oath, and swore fidelity to his great master I Ma- bolus, and then, being stated and settled in his places, offices, advancements, and preferments, 0! you cannot think, unless you had Been it, the Btrange work that this workman made in the town of Mansoul J First, he maligned Mr. Recorder to death; he , „ would neither endure to see him, nor Tlic carnal «;11 . up, M-iii cou- to hear the words ot his mouth; he would shut his eves when he saw him, and stop his ears when he heard him speak: also, he could not endure that so much as a fragment of the law of Shaddai should he anywhere seen in the town. For example, his clerk, Mr. Mind, had some old, rent, and torn parchments of the law of good Shaddai in his house,1 but when Will-he-will saw them, he cast them behind his hack. Ne. U. 2C True, Mr. Recorder had some of the laws in his .,, study, hut my lord could by no means Corrupt will - «* •> lores a dark come at them: he also thought, and 's' said, that the windows of my old Lord Mayor's bouse were always too light f«»r the profit of the town of Mansoul. The light of a candle be could not endure. Now, nothing at all pleased Will-he-will but what pleased Diabolus his lord. There was none like him to trumpet about the streets the brave nature, the wise conduct, and great glory of the King Diabolus. lie would range and rove throughout all the streets of Man- soul to cry up his illustrious lord, and would make himself even as an abject, among the base and rascal crew, to cry up his valiant prince. And I say, when and whereso- ever he found these vassals, he would even make himself as one of them. In all ill courses he would act without bidding, and do mischief with- out commandment. The Lord Will-he-will also had a deputy under him, and his name was Mr. Affection; one that was also greatly debauched in his principles, and answerable thereto in his life. lto. L 25. lie was wholly given to the flesh, and therefore they called '•The onawakened sinner lias do pleasure in the Holy Scrip- tures; they are to him like old, rent, torn law parchment*, which are written in a lan<-'uai:e that lie cannot understand, and he casts them away. — (Eo.) 2 What a progeny ! but they are the genuine fruits of sin, which is of an impudent, scornful, and revengeful nature j aud they have made the soul an enemy to justice, mercy, and truth. —(Mason.) Vain thoughts. him Vile-affection, Now there was he, an Carnal-lust, the daughter of Mr. Miud (like to like, quoth the devil to the collier) that fell in love, and made a lust- match, and were married; and, as I take it, they had several children, as Impudent, Blackmouth, and Bate-reproof; these three were black hoy.-,. And besides these they had three daughters, as Scorn- truth, and Slightgod, and the name of the youngest was Revenge; these were all married in the town, and also begot and yielded many had brats, too many to he here inserted.2 But to pas- by this. When the giant had thus ingarrisoned himself in the town of Mansoul, and bad put down and Bet up whom he thought good; be betakes himself to (h facing. Now there was in the marketplace in Mansoul, and also upon the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed Bang Shaddai; this image was so exactly engraven, and it was engraven in gold. that it did the most resemble Shaddai himself of anything that then was extant in the world. This be basely commanded to he defaced, what Nutmtii and it was as basely done by the hand dd- of Mr. Notruth. Now you must know, that a3 Diabolus had commanded, and that by the hand of Mr. Notruth, the image of Shaddai was del lie likewise gave order that the same Mr. Notruth should set up in its stead the horrid and formidable image of Diabolus; to the great contempt of the former King, and debasing of his town of Mansoul. Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of all remains of the laws and statutes of Shaddai ^ law..lxiok, that could be found in the town of de*tn . r . . . . , could be so. Mansoul ; to wit, such as contained either the doctrines of morals, with all civil and natural documents. Also relative severities he sought to extinguish.3 To be short, there was nothing of the remains of good in Mansoul which he and Will-he-will sought not to destroy ; for their design was to turn Mansoul into a brute, and to make it like to the sensual sow, by the hand of Mr. Notruth.* When he had destroyed what law and good orders he could, then, further to effect his design — namely, to alienate Mansoul from Shaddai, her king — he commands and they set up his own vain edicts, statutes, and commandments, in all places of resort or concourse in Mansoul ; to wit, such as gave liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the 1 . 3 Relative severities are the duties we owe to Cod, to our- selves, and to man, as puhlic and private prayer, obedience and affection to parents and relatives, aud that duty so essential to our spirit's welfare — 'self-examination.1 the sinner becomes to every pood work reprobate. — t.M 4 Satan would conceal or obliterate the sacred .•scriptures, prevent the practice of duty to God or to our neighbour, and make man merely carnal and brutish. Awl cceded; so that 'man has become thai beast, half -devil, uniting in buns former with the diabolic temper ul the latter.— tburdcr.) 264 THE HOLY WAR. the eyes, and the pride of life, which are not of Shaddai, but of the world, i jn. a. ie. He encouraged, countenanced, and promoted lasciviousness, and all ungodliness there. Yea, much more did Dia- bolus to encourage wickedness in the town of Man- soul; he promised them peace, content, joy, and bliss in doing his commands, and that they should never be called to an account for their not doing the contrary. And let this serve to give a taste to them that love to hear tell of what is done be- yond their knowledge, afar off in other countries.1 Now Mansoul being wholly at his beck, and brought wholly to his bow, nothing was heard or seen therein but that which tended to set up him. But now, he having disabled the Lord Mayor They have a new and Mr. Recorder from bearing of and a newX- office iu Mansoul, and seeing that the corder. town, before he came to it, was the most ancient of corporations in the world ; and fearing, if he did not maintain greatness, they at any time should object that he had done them an injury, therefore, I say, that they might see that he did not intend to lessen their grandeur, or to take from them any of their advantageous things, he did choose for them a Lord Mayor and a Re- corder himself; and such as contented them at the heart, and such also as pleased him wondrous well. The name of the Mayor that was of Diabolus's The new Lord making was the Lord Lustings; a May°r- man that had neither eyes nor ears ; all that he did, whether as a man or as an officer, he did it naturally, as doth the beast.2 And that which made him yet the more ignoble, thouo-h not to Mansoul, yet to them that beheld and were grieved for its ruins, was, that he never could savour good, but evil. The Recorder was one whose name was Forget- Tiie new Recor- good ; and a very sorry fellow he was. He could remember nothing but mis- chief, and to do it with delight. He was naturally prone to do things that were hurtful ; even hurtful to the town of Mansoul, and to all the dwellers there. These two, therefore, by their power and Thoughts. Practice> example and smiles upon evil, did much more grammar,3 and settle the Great is the the danger of seeking to be wise above what is written. The Bible is the limit of all real knowledge in matters of religion. To the law and to the testimony, if any doctrine or practice is not to be found there, reject it instantlv and for ever ; it is poisonous, aud tends to death and hell — (En.) 2 ' Neither eyes nor ears ;' no regard to reason nor danger, but hurried on by mere appetite to every tlcshlv indulgence! — (Burder.) How degraded ! Man becomes a "compound of devilish and benstly lusts. ' Lord, what is man that thou should be mindful of him.' — (Ed.) 3 To ' grammar ;' to instil into the mind. — (Ed.) 4 Nothing could evidence more intrepid faithfulness than this severe, but just, reflection upon the open licentiousness aud debauchery of Charles II. and his courtiers. Nearly thirteen years of frightful imprisonment had not chilled his faithful common people in hurtful ways. For who doth not perceive, but when those that sit aloft are vile, and corrupt themselves, they corrupt the whole region and country where tliey are ?4 Besides these, Diabolus made several burgesses and aldermen in Mansoul ; such as out He doth make of whom the town, when it needed, BS^aS might choose them officers, governors, "ll°- and magistrates. And these are the names of the chief of them, Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Haughty, Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Hardheart, Mr. Piti- less, Mr. Fury, Mr. Notruth, Mr. Stand-todies, Mr. Falsepeace, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Cheating, Mr. Atheism — thirteen in all. Mr. Incredulity is the eldest, and Mr. Atheism the youngest, of the company.5 There was also an election of common council- men, and others ; as bailiffs, sergeants, constables, and others ; but all of them like to those afore- named, being either fathers, brothers, cousins, or nephews to them ; whose names, for brevity's sake, I omit to mention. When the giant had thus far proceeded in his work, in the next place he betook He huiideth three himself to build some strongholds in Cef mlf'go' the town. And he built three that vernore. seemed to be impregnable. The first he called the Hold of Defiance, because it was made to com- mand the whole town, and to keep it from the knowledge of its ancient King. The second he called Midnight-hold, because it wras built on pur- pose to keep Mansoul from the true knowledge of itself. The third was called Sweet-sin-hold, be- cause by that lie fortified Mansoul against all desires of good. The first of these holds stood close by Eyegate, that as much as might be light might be darkened there. The second was built hard to the old castle, to the end that that might be made more blind, if possible. And the third stood in the market-place.6 He that Diabolus made oovernor over the first spirit, nor cowed him in doing his duty. In serving God he was a stranger to fear. — (Ed.) 6 ' What a vile set of wretches!' the reader will exclaim ; but are you sure that they do not rule your heart ? Unbelief is the first, aud how natural the gradation to Atheism, the last — ■ the scoruer's seat. — (Ed.) 'Christ purged his temple, so must tliou fliy heart. All sinful thoughts are thieves, together niet To cozen thee.' — (Herbert.) c Thus Satan fixes his empire in the soul: — 1. By enmUy and aversion to Divine instruction; 2. By the blindness of the understanding, aud perverseness o-f the will, by which the knowledge of its lamentable state aud of God are concealed ; aud, 3. By a habit and delight in sin, rolling it as a sweet morsel under the tongue ; all which, if grace prevent not, will drown men in destruction and perdition. — (Mason.) Reader, beware, these three strongholds are the greatest enemies to human happiness: — 1. Indiffereut carelessness; 2. Ignorance of the new birth aud of spiritual religion, which is the strength of superstition — the cruel persecutor of the saints; 3. Lusts, which degrade the soul into slavery to Satan. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. of these, was one Spitegod, a most blasphemous wretch, He came with the whole rabble of them that came against Mausoul at first, and was him- self one of themselves. Ee that was made the governor of Midnight-hold, was one Love-no-light. lie was also of them that oame first against the town. And he that was made the governor of the hold called Sweet-sin-hold, was one whose name was Loveflesh ; he was also a very lewd fellow, but not of that country where the other are bound.1 This fellow- could find more sweetness when he Stood sucking of a lust, than he did in all the paradise of God. And now Diabolus thought himself Bafe; he had taken Mansoul ; he had ingarrisoned himself therein ; he had put down the old officers, and Oabolua has had set up new ones ; he had defaced made liis nest. the jmage „f shaddai, and had set up his own; he had spoiled the old law-hooks, and had promoted his own vain lies; he had made him new magistrates, and set up new aldermen ; he had built him new holds, and had manned them for himself.' And all this he did to make himself secure, in case the good Shaddai, or his Son, should come to make an incursion upon him. [CriAPTER. 111.] [Contents.-— Information of the revolution carried to the court of King Shaddai — His great resentment of the rebellion — His gracious intention of restoring Mansoul — Some intimations of this published — Care of Diabolus to sup- press them — His artifices to secure the town, and prevent its return to Shaddai.] Now you may well think, that long before this Tidiues mmed tmie AVOrtl> bJ some or other, could not aurt of but be carried to the good King Shad- what IihiI hap- ,., ..-.r r-i • |.ened to Man- dai, bow his Mansoul in the continent of Universe was lost; and that the renegade giant Diabolus, once one of his Majesty's servants, had, in rebellion against the King, made sure thereof for himself; yea, tidings were carried and brought to the King thereof, and that to a \x-v\ circumstance.3 As first, How Diabolus came upon Mansoul — they being a simple people, and innocent — with craft, subtilty, lies, and guile. Item, That he had treacherously slain the right noble and valiant cap- tain, their Captain Resistance, as he stood upon the gate, with the rest of the townsmen. Item, How my brave Lord Innocent fell down dead — 1 Loveflesh was one of the corrupted Manaoulians, and, therefore, not bound to the place wh< nee Spit< god and Love- n it- ; these were Diabolonians. — (En.) 2 How awful and complete is the revolution ! The under- standing is darkened, the conscience debauched, the will per- verted, the image of God defaced, the law of God suppressed, and lusts triumphant ; while the proud sinner defies God, loves midnight darkness, and wallows in sin. What an awful, but accurate, picture of apostate man 1 God, be merciful to us sinners. — (Burder.) VOL. III. with grief, some say, or with being poisoned with the stinking breath of one [llpause, a- say others — at the hearing of his just hod ami rightful prince Shaddai bo abused by the mouth of so filthy a Diabolonian as that varlet 1 llpause was. The messenger further told, that after this lllpause had made a short oration to the townsmen, in behalf of Diabolus his master, the simple town believing that what was said was true, with one consent did open Eargate, the chief gate of the Corporation, and did let him with his crew into a possession of the famous town of Mansoul. lie further showed how Diaholus had served the Lord .Mayor and Mr. Recorder, to wit, that he had put them from all place of power and trust. Item, He showed also that my Lord Will-be-will was turned a very rebel and renegade, and that - one Mr. Mind, his clerk; ami that they two did range and revel it all the town over, and teach the wicked ones their ways, lie said, moreover, that this Will-be-will was put into great trust ; and, particularly, that Diabolus had put into Will-he-will's hand all the strong places in Man- soul ; and that Mr. Affection was made my Lord Will-be-wiU's deputy in his most rebellious affairs. Yea, said the messenger, this monster, Lord Will- be-will, has openly disavowed his King Shaddai, and hath horribly given his faith and plighted his troth to Diabolus.4 'Also,' said the messenger, 'besides all this, the new king, or rather rebellious tyrant, over the once famous, but now perishing, town of Mansoul, has set up a Lord Mayor and a Recorder of his own. For Mayor, he has set up one Mr Lustings, and for Recorder, Mr. Forget-good; two of the vilest of all the town of Mansoul.' This faithful messenger also proceeded, and told what a sort of new burgesses Diabolus had made, also that lie had builded several strong forts, towers, and Btrong- holds in Mansoul. He told too, the which 1 hail almost forgot, how Diabolus had put the town of Mansoul into arms, the better to capacitate them on his behalf to make resistance against Shaddai their king, should he come to reduce them to their former obedience. Now this tidings-teller did not deliver his rela- tion of things in private, but in open court, the King and his Son, high lords, chief QM at f01irt captains, and nobles, being all there to hear the tid- present to hear. But by that they bad heard the whole of the story, it would have amazed one to have seen, had he been there to s ' Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world.' 'Not a sparrow shall fall without your 1 ' The very hairs of your head are all numbered.' -Mai. I ! —(En.) 4 ' Ye have said, We have made a covenant with death, aad with hell are we at agreement.' Is. xxriii. 13.— (Ed.) ;, 1 266 THE HOLY WAR. behold it, what sorrow and grief, and compunction of spirit, there was among all sorts, to think that famous Mansoul was now taken ; only the King, and his Son foresaw all this long before, yea, and sufficiently provided for the relief of Mansoul, though they told not everybody thereof. Yet, be- cause they also would have a share in condoling of the misery of Mansoul, therefore they also did, and that at the rate of the highest degree, bewail the losing of Mansoul. The King said plainly, * That it grieved him at his heart,' and you may be sure that his Son was not a whit behind him. Ge. vi. 5, 6. Thus gave they conviction to all about them, that they had love and compassion for the famous town of Mansoul. Well, when the King and his Son were retired into the privy-chamber, there they again consulted about what they had The secret of his designed before, to wit, that as Mail- purpose. sou] should in time be suffered to be lost, so as certainly it should be recovered again ; recovered I say, in such a way as that both the King and his Son would get themselves eternal ™. c «„ , fame and glory thereby. Wherefore The Son of God. i • i i « #• m n • after this consult, the Son or Shaddai, a sweet and comely person, and one that had always great affection for those that were in affliction, but one that had mortal enmity in his heart against Diabolus, because he was designed for it, and because he sought his crown and dignity. This Son of Shaddai, I say, having stricken hands1 with his Father, and promised that he would be his servant to recover his Mansoul again, stood by his resolution, nor would he repent of the same. is. xik. 5. l Ti. i. is. He. xiii. 14. The purport of which a brave design agreement was this : to wit, That at a tovTof'Man- certain time prefixed by both, the soul. King's Son should take a journey into the country of Universe ; and there, in a way of justice and equity, by making of amends for the follies of Mansoul, he should lay a foundation of her perfect deliverance from Diabolus, and from his tyranny.2 Moreover, Emmanuel resolved to make, at a time convenient, a war upon the giant Diabolus, even while he was possessed of the town of Man- By the Holy soul ! ar>d that he would fairly, by Ghost. strength of hand, drive him out of his hold, his nest, and take it to himself, to be his habitation. This now being resolved upon, order Avas given The Holy Scrip- to tUe Lord Chief Secretary, to draw tures. Up a fajr record 0f what was deter- 1 'To strike hands' means to enter into agreement, make a coutract, or become security. Pr. xvii. 18. — (Ed.) 2 How astonishing is the Divine benignity ! Who can express it so well as in the words of Emmanuel himself, God so loved the world? So loved! How much he loved, no tongue can tell, no heart conceive. It is love unsought, un- paralleled, free, and everlasting. — (Burder.) mined, and to cause that it should be published in all the corners of the kingdom of Universe. A short breviat3 of the contents thereof you may, if you please, take here as follows : • Let all men know who are concerned, That the Son of Shaddai, the great King, is engaged, by covenant to his Father, to ^ Contents- bring his Mansoul to him again ; yea, and to put Mansoul too, through the power of his matchless love, into a far better, and more happy condition than it was in before it was taken by Diabolus.'4 These papers, therefore, were published in several places, to the no little molestation of the tyrant Diabolus, for now, thought he, I shall be molested, and my habitation will be taken from me. But when this matter, I mean this purpose of the King and his Son, did at first take air at court, who can tell how the high lords, chief captains, and noble princes, that were Among the there, were taken with the business. Angels. First, they whispered it one to another, and after that it began to ring out throughout the King's palace ; all wondering at the glorious design that between the King and his Son was on foot for the miserable town of Mansoul. Yea, the courtiers could scarce do any thing, either for the King or kingdom, but they would mix with the doing thereof a noise of the love of the King and his Son, that they had for the town of Mansoul. Nor could these lords, high captains, and princes, be content to keep this news at court, yea, before the records thereof were perfected, themselves came down and told it in Universe. At last Dial)o]ug per. it came to the ears, as I said, of Dia- piexed at the bolus, to his no little discontent. For you must think it would perplex him to hear of such a design against him ; well, but after a few casts in his mind, he concluded upon these four things. First. That this news, this good tidings, if possible, should be kept from the ears Heconciudedon of the town of Mansoul.5 For, said several things. he, if they shall once come to the knowledge that Shaddai, their former King, and Emmanuel, his Son, are contriving of good for the town of Man- soul ; what can be expected by me, but that Man- soul will make a revolt from under my hand and government, and return again to him. 3 ' Breviat ;' a summary or epitome ; a word commonly used in Bunyan's time. — (Ed.) 4 Early intimation was given to a lost world of God's gracious designs in favour of rebel man. He was pleased to publish in his Word this benevolent purpose. — (Burder.) 6 It is the interest of hell to keep men in ignorance of the gospel. His great instrument, in all ages and climes, has been a wicked priestcraft. All that tends to prevent anxious personal inquiry for salvation is from beneath, from the father of lies. ' 1 believe as the church believes, and the church believes as I believe,' is the wretched sophistry by which Satan entangles souls in his net. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. 267 Now, to accomplish this his design! lie renews ... . „ . his flattery with my Lord Will-he-will, r ir Shaddai hearing and of intends to destroy them ; wherefore, he considering. 1 i 1 • 1 summons the whole town into the market-place, and there, with deceitful tongue, thus he addresses himself unto them : — ' Gentlemen, and my very good friends, You are all, as you know, my legal subjects, and men of the famous town of Mansoul ; you know how, from the first day that I have been with you until now, I have behaved myself among you, and what liberty, and great privileges you have enjoyed under my government, I hope to your honour, and mine, and also to your content and delight. Now, my famous Mansoul, a noise of trouble there is abroad, of trouble to the town of Mansoul, sorry I am there- of for your sakes. For I have received but now by the post from my lord Lucifer — and he useth to have good intelligence — that your old king Shaddai is raising of an army to come against you, to destroy you root and branch:2 and this, 0 Man- soul, is now the cause that at this time I have called you together ; namely, to advise what in this juncture is best to be done ; for my part, I am but one, and can with ease shift for myself, did I list to seek my own ease, and to leave my Mansoul in all the danger. But my heart is so firmly united to you, and so unwilling am I to leave you, that I am willing to stand and fall with you, to the utmost hazard that shall befall me.3 What say you, 0 my Mansoul ? Will you now desert your old friend, or do you think of standing by me?' Then as one man, with one mouth, they cried out together, 'Let him die the death that will not.' Then said Diabolus again, ' It is in vain for us to Very deceivahie hope for quarter, for this king knows language. not j10w to si10W ;t . true> perhaps, he at his first sitting down before us will talk of, and pretend to, mercy, that thereby, with the more ease, and less trouble, he may again make himself the master of Mansoul. Whatever therefore he shall say, believe not one syllable or tittle of it, for all such language is but to overcome us, and to make us, while we wallow in our blood, the trophies of his merciless victory. My mind is, therefore, that we resolve, to the last man, to resist him, and not to believe him upon any terms ; for in at that door will come our danger.4 But shall we be flattered out of our lives ? I hope you know more of the rudiments of politics than to suffer yourselves so pitifully to be served. • But suppose he should, if he gets us to yield, saVe some of our lives, or the lives of some of them that are underlings in Mansoul, what help will that be to you that are the chief of the town ; especially of you whom I have set up, and whose greatness has been procured by you through your faithful sticking to me? And suppose again, that he should give quarter to every ying angaage" one of you, be sure he will bring you into that bondage under which you were captivated before, or a worse ; and then what good will your lives do you ? Shall you with him live in pleasure as you do now ? No, no, you must be bound by laws that will pinch you, and be made to do that which at present is hateful to you ; I am for you, if you are for me, and it is better to die valiantly, than to live like pitiful slaves.5 But I say, the life of a slave will be counted a life too good „ . -.a of for Mansoul now ; blood, blood, no- losing of Man- thing but blood is in every blast of Shaddai's trumpet against poor Mansoul now.6 Pray, be concerned, I hear he is coming up ; and stand to your arms, that now while you have any leisure, 1 may learn you some feats of war. Ar- mour for you I have, and by me it is ; yea, and it is sufficient for Mansoul from top to toe ; nor can you be hurt by what his force can do, if you shall keep it well girt and fastened about you. Come therefore to my castle, and welcome, „ t t^ and harness yourselves for the war. upon arming There is helmet, breastplate, sword, and shield, and what not, that will make you fight like men. ' 1. My helmet, otherwise called an head-piece, is hope of doinr>- well at last, what lives ,. m • . ,i . i.i His helmet. soever you live. This is that which they had, who said, that they should have peace though they walked in the wickedness of their heart, 'to add drunkenness to thirst.' De. xxix. 19. A piece of approved armour this is, and whoever has it and can hold it, so long no arrow, dart, 1 'Brute,' generally spelt 'bruit;' report, rumour, fame. — Imp. Die. — (Ed.) - This is one of the great lies with which Satan and his emissaries would keep sinners in bondage, by leading them to think that Christ came not to save, but to destroy, and that true religion is a dull, melancholy, pursuit, tending only to misery and melancholy; the very reverse of all Christian experience and truth. — (Ed.) a Well may Satan be called the father of lies; all his object is to destroy souls. He is a merciless tyrant ; his service is the vilest drudgery ; his wages are pain, sorrow, sickness, temporal, and eternal death. O for that spiritual wisdom from heaven by which alone we can detect his devices. — (Ed.) 4 The strength of Satan's kingdom lies in preventing men from thinking or examining for themselves. — (Ed.) 6 How do the most wretched slaves, eveti the devil's dirtiest drudges, hug their chains, and try to imagine themselves free. The believer alone knows what liberty is ; Christ's service is perfect freedom, and his ways — all his ways, and none but his ways — are pleasantness and peace. — (Ed.) 8 Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins ; but with the blood-shedding of Jesus, the gospel of peace and salvation is brought to the guilty conscience. How malig- nantly the father of lies can pervert the plainest gospel truths, — (ED.\ TTTE HOLY WAR. .TO swoni, or shield can hurt him ; this therefore keep on, and thou wilt keep off many a h!ow, my Man- soul.1 •2. My breastplate is a breastplate of iron; I had it forged in mine own country, and Hisbreastplate. „ ', ,. , . • . , all my soldiers aro armed therewith; in plain language it is an hard heart, an heart as hard as iron, and as much past feeling as a stone; the which if you get, and keep, neither mercy shall win you, nor judgment fright yon. Be.ix.9. This, therefore, is a piece of armour most necessary for all to put on that hate Shaddai, and that would tight against him under my banner. ' 3. My sword is a tongue that is set on fire of hell, rs. ivii. 4, and that can bend itself to speak evil of Shaddai, his Son, his ways, and people. Pilxiv. a. Use this; it has been tried a thousand times twice told ; whoever hath it, keeps it, and makes that use of it as I would have him, can never be conquered by mine enemy. Ja. iii. 3—5. '•i. My shield is unbelief, or calling into question the truth of the Word, or all the say- ings that speak of the judgment that Shaddai has appointed for wicked men. Use this shield. Job xv. :'G. Many attempts he has made upon it, and sometimes, it is true, it has been bruised. Ps. lxxvi. 3. But they that have writ of the wars of Emmanuel against my servants, have testified that he could do no mighty work there because of their unbelief. Mar. vi. 5, 6. Now, to handle this weapon of mine aright, it is not to believe things because they are true, of what sort or by whomsoever as- serted. If he speak of judgment, care not for it; if he speak of mercy, care not for it ; if he pro- mise, if he swear that he would do to Mansoul, if it turn, no hurt but good, regard not what is said ; question the truth of all ; for this is to wield the shield of unbelief aright, and as my servants ought and do; and he that doth otherwise loves me not, nor do I count him but an enemy to me. '5. Another part or piece,' said Diabolus, 'of mine excellent armour is a dumb and prayerlcss spirit — a spirit that scorns to cry for mercy; where- fore lie you, my Mansoul, sure that you make use of this.3 What ! cry for quarter, never do that if you 1 How many baptized infidels perish in a vain hope that Divine mercy will be extended to impenitent, unawakened sinners; forgetting that 'a God all mercy, is a God uujust.' — (Ed.) u This shield of the devil is used to an extent that few persous imagine. Ail the impenitent disbelieve the punish- ment of sin, and use this shield to ward oil' conviction ; and how many of the children of God, when in a state of doubt, use the same shield, to prevent the cut ranee of those pro- mises which would bring consolation to their wounded souls! Strangely has sin perverted the faculties of Mansoul. — (£d.) 3 llmv skilfully Satan plies his suggestions, to keep p or shiners from their knees. lie knows that lie cauuot withstand godly, fervent, prayer. — (Kb.) would be mine ; 1 know you are BtOUt men, and am Sure that I have clad you with that which i> armour of proof; wherefore to cry to Shaddai lor mercy, let thatr be far from you. Besides all this, I have a maul, fire-brands, arrows and death, all Lr"od liand- weapons, and BUch as will do execution. '* After lie had thus furnished his men „ . , He bsela >D with armour and arms, he addressed withe himself to them in such like words as these: — 'Remember,' quoth he, 'that I am your rightful king, and that you have taken an oath, and entered into covenant to be true to me and my cause ; I say, remember this, and show yourselves stout and valiant men of Mansoul. Remember also the kindness that I have always showed to you, and that without your petition: I have granted to you external things, wherefore tho privileges, grants, immunities, profits and honours wherewith I endowed you, do call for at your hands returns of loyalty, my lion-like men of Mansoul ; and when so fit a time to show it as when another shall seek to take my dominion over you, into their own hands ? One word more, and I have done, Can we but stand, and overcome this one shock or brunt, I doubt not but in little time all the world will be ours ; and when that day comes, my true hearts, I will make you kings, princes, and cap- tains, and what brave days shall we have then ? '•' Diabolus having thus armed, and fore-armed his servants and vassals in Mansoul, against their good and lawful king Shaddai ; in the next place, he doubleth his guards at the gates of the town, and he takes himself to the castle, which was his strong hold. His vassals also, to show their They <>f Man- wills, and supposed, but ignoble, gal- J^0^* lantry, exercise themselves in their 8iaut- arms every day, and teach one another feats of war; they also defied their enemies, and sang up the praises of their tyrant; they threatened also what men they would be, if ever things should rise so hio;h as a war between Shaddai and their kins:.6 4 Header, we have here presented to our view the whole armour of the devil — presumption, hardness of heart, a blas- phemous tongue, unbelief, and a prayerlcss spirit. This is Satan's armour; the very reverse of that which God has pro- vided for Christian soldiers. — (Burder.) 6 Thus Satan deceivcth the world, promising liberty and pleasure, while slavery and destruction are his only aim. ' All these things,' said he to our Lord, ' will I give thee, if thou wilt worship me.' O that we may be enabled to say, 'Get thee behind me, Satan.' — (Burder.) Satan first beguiles, then destroys, and lastly torments; he flatters only to betray and ruin. — (Mason.) ti Reader, having accompanied Bunyan thus far in his War, pause and consider whether you understand his spiritual meaning: the original perfection of human nature — the temptations of the enemy of souls— the loss of innocency— the admission of Diabolus into the heart oi reign of sin— the first intimations of Divine mercy- : precautions to prevent it— to resist th( -and to keep i he soul in shivery,— have I felt all tins in my own ex- perience?— (En.) 270 THE HOLY WATt. [Chapter IV.] [Contents; — Shaddai sends an army of forty thousand to re- duce Mansoul, under the direction of four captains, Boa- nerges, Conviction, Judgment, and Execution, who address the inhahitants with great energy, but to little purpose — Diabolus, Incredulity, Illpause, and others, interfere to pvevent submission — Prejudice defends Eargate with a guard of sixty deaf men.] Now all this time, the good King, the King Btadtoiprepa*. Shaddai was preparing to send an etii an army army to recover the town of Mansoul for the rero- • n i ,1 c ±i ■ very of Mm- again, from under the tyranny ot their sox^ pretended king Diabolus. But he thought good, at the first, not to send them hy the hand and conduct of brave Emmanuel his Son, but under the hand of some of his servants, to see first, by them, the temper of Mansoul; and whether The wonts of by them they would be won to the Gud- obedience of their King. The army consisted of above forty thousand, all true men ; for they came from the King's own court, and were those of his own choosing. They came up to Mansoul under the conduct of four stout generals, each man being a captain of The captains' ten thousand men, and these are their names. names, and their signs. The name of the first was Boanerges ; the name of the second was Captain Conviction ; the name of the third was Captain Judgment; and the name of the fourth was Captain Execution. These were the captains that Shaddai sent to regain Mansoul.1 These four captains, as was said, the King thought fit, in the first place, to send to Mansoul, to make an attempt upon it ; for indeed, generally in all his wars he did use to send these four captains in the van, for they were very stout and rough- hewn men, men that were fit to break the ice, and to make their way by dint of sword, and their men were like themselves.2 Ps. ix. 4. To each of these captains the King gave a bon- ner that it might be displayed, because of the good- ness of his cause, and because of the right that he had to Mansoul. First to Captain Boanerges, for he was the chief ; to him, I say, was given ten thousand men. His ensign was Mr. Thunder; he bare the black colours, and his escutcheon Avas three burning thunderbolts. Mar. iii. 17. The second 1 The army of forty thousand terrors of the law was not so fearful as one threatening of the new covenant. Bead care- fully Grace Abounding, No. 246. — (Ed.) 2 Mansoul's spirit is first to be broken by the terrors of the law ; there is no difficulty in understanding the very appro- priate names of the captains. But why forty thousand con- victions and terrors, unless from that number of valiant men ' prepared for war,' that went up with Joshua, who was feared 'as they feared Moses?' Jos. iv. 13. The margin says, 'The words of God.' There are in the Bible 810,697 words, so that the 40,000 and above may refer to the number of those passages intended to convince of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment to come. — (Ed.) captain was Captain Conviction ; to him was also given ten thousand men. His ensign's name was Mr. Sorrow ; he did bear the pale colours, and his escutcheon was the book of the law wide open, from whence issued a flame of fire. De. xxxhi. 2. The third captain was Captain Judgment; to him was given ten thousand men. His ensign's name was Mr. Terror ; he bare the red colours, and his es- cutcheon was a burning fiery furnace. Mat. xjii 40, 41. The fourth captain was Captain Execution ; to him was given ten thousand men. His ensign was one Mr. Justice; he also bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was a fruitless tree, with an axe lying at the root thereof. Mat. iii. 10. These four captains, as I said, had every one of them under his command ten thousand men ; all of good fidelity to the King, and stout at their military actions.3 Well, the captains, and their forces, their men and under-officers, being had upon a day by Shad- dai into the field, and there called all over by their names, were then and there put into such harness4 as became their degree, and that service that now they were going about for their King.5 Now, when the King had mustered his forces — for it is he that mustereth the host to the battle — he gave unto the captains their several commissions, with charge and commandment, in the audience of all the soldiers, that they should take heed faith- fully and courageously to do and execute the same, Their commissions were, for the substance of them, the same in form ; though as to name, title, place, and degree of the captains, there might be some, but very small variation. And here let me give you an account of the matter and sum contained in their commission. A commission from the great Shaddai, King of Man- soul, to his trusty and noble captain, the Captain Boanerges ,6 for his making roar upon the town of Mansoul. ' 0 thou Boanerges, one of my stout and thundering captains, over one ten xheir commis- thousand of my valiant and faithful Slun- 3 ' Boanerges,' a powerful awakening ministry; * Conviction,' an awful display of the requirements of the law ; ' Judgment,' the dreadful expectation of the great day; 'Execution,' the destruction of impenitent sinners. These are means of con- viction, although in many cases, as that of Lydia, the heart is gently opened to admit Emmanuel. — (Ed.) 4 ' Harness ;' dress or equipments for fighting men, or for horses.— (Ed.) 4 These are the usual means of conviction and conversion, but not the only means. Some are gently led to the Saviour, to others 'in a dream, in a vision of the night; he openeth the ears of men, and scaleth their instruction.' Job xxxiii. 15, 16. The great question is, Do I love the Lord ? Does that love lead to obedience? — (Ed.) 6 A son of thunder, meaning a powerful proclamation of the gospel, which, when made effectual iu the heart by the Holy Ghost, becomes the power of God to salvation. — (Mason.) THE HOLY AVAR. 271 servants ; go tliou in my name, with this thy force, to the miserable town of Mansoul; ami when tliou comest thither, offer them first con- ditions of peace, lhtx.ll. Lakes, ft. and command them, that casting off the yoke and tyranny of the wicked Diabolus, they return to me, their rightful Prince and Lord; command them, also, that they cleanse themselves from all that is his in the town of Mansoul, and look to thysel! that thou hast good satisfaction touching the truth of their obed- ience. Thus when thou hast commanded them, if they in truth submit thereto, then do thou, to the uttermost of thy power, what in thee lies, to set up for me a garrison in the famous town of Man- soul ; nor do thou hurt the least native that moveth or hreatheth therein, if they will submit themselves to me, hut treat thou such as if they were thy friend or brother — for all such I love, and they shall be dear unto me — and tell them that 1 will take a time to come unto them, and to let them know that 1 am merciful, l Th. u. :-n. 1 But if they shall — notwithstanding thy sum- mons, and the production of thy authority — resist, stand out against thee, and rebel, then do I com- mand thee to make use of all thy cunning, power, might, and force, to bring them under by strength of hand. Farewell.' Thus you see the sum of their commissions, for, as I said before, for the substance of them they were the same that the rest of the noble captains had. Wherefore they having received each commander his authority, at the hand of their King, the day They prepare for being appointed, and the place of their a march. rendezvous prefixed, each commander appeared in such gallantry as became his cause and calling. So, after a new entertainment from Shaddai, with flying colours, they set forward to march towards the famous town of Mansoul. Cap- tain Boanerges led the van; Captain Conviction and Captain Judgment made up the main body, and Captain Execution brought up the rear. Bph.iL 13, 17. They then having a long way to go, for the town of Mansoul was far oil' from the court of Shad- dai, they marched through the regions and countries of many people, not hurting or abusing any, hut blessing wherever they came. They also lived upon the King's cost in all the way they went.1 Having travelled thus for many days,2 at last they came within sight of Mansoul ; the which, 1 Although Banyan was not a hireling preacher, but for a great portion of his life maintained himself and his family by the labour of his hands, yet he plainly intimates that itinerating ami missionary labourers in the Lord's vineyard must be main- tained at the Kind's cost while away from home. — (Ed.) 2 The distance to which man has fallen from Sod, is well set forth in the Church Homily en the Nativity: ' Before he Was beloved, now he is abhorred; before hi' was mosi beautiful and iirecious, now he is vile and wretched. Instead of the image when they saw, the captains could for their heart! do 110 less than for a while bewail the ( dition of the town, for they quickly saw how that it u.i- prostrate to the will of Diabolus, and to his ways and designs. Well, to be short, the captains came up before the town, march up to Ear-ate, sit down there, tor that was the place of hearing. So, when they had pitched their tents and intrenched them- selves, they addressed themselves to make their assault. Now the townsfolk at first, beholding so gal- lant a company, so bravely accoutered, T)ie worl(1 and so excellently disciplined, hav- convim ,. * . l , the well-order- ing on their glittering armour, and ed life of Uie displaying of their flying colours, 8 ly' could not hut come out of their houses and gaze. But the cunning fox, Diabolus, fearing that the people, after this sight, should oi. a sudden sum- mons, open the gates to the captains, came down with all haste from the castle, and made them retire into the body of the town, who, when he had them there, made this lying and dece'vable speech unto them : — ' Gentlemen,' quoth he, 'although you are my trusty and well-beloved friends, yet I ^^ ^ cannot but a little chide vou for your »tcs their minds , , . ... from thrm. late uncircumspect action, m going out to gaze on that great and mighty force that but yesterday sat down before, and have now in- trenched themselves, in order to the maintaining of a siege against, the famous town of Mansoul. Do you know who they are, whence they come, and what is their purpose in setting down before the town of Mansoul ? They are they Timt'* i of whom I have told you long ago, tu"- that they would come to destroy this town, and against whom I have been at the cost to arm you with cap-a-pie * for your body, besides great forti- fications for your mind. Wherefore, then, did yon not rather, even at the first appearance of them, cry out, fire the beacons, and give the whole town an alai that we might all have been in" a pos- [g^*^ ture of defence, and been ready to Mansoul a- ,...". g.uns! lain. have received them with the highest acts of defiance, then had you showed yourselves men to my liking; whereas, by what you have done, you have made me half-afraid ; 1 Bay hail- afraid, that when they and we shall come to push a pike, I shall find you want courage to stand it satan gpreatlv concernin«r them, afraid oi God's of God, he is now the image of the devil ; instead of being the citi/.m of heaven, he i., the bond-slave of heU . pari of his former purity and cleanness, but is .V and defiled, and is nothing but a lump of sin, I Bating death.' What - i i mind of an unconverted clergyman, who prides nimsel dipnity of human nature, and yet reads tins I • timi.— (Ed.) 3 ' Cap-a-pie;' armed all over from head to feet— {!„ . 273 THE HOLY WAT!. out any longer. Wherefore have I commanded a watch, aud that you should douhle your guards at the gates ? Wherefore have I endeavoured to make you as hard as iron, and your hearts as a piece of the nether millstone ? Was it, think you, that you might show yourselves women, and that you might go out like a company of innocents to llestirsthemup gaze on your mortal foes? Fy, fy, tothe ministers P11^ yourselves into a posture of de- of the Word fence, heat up the drum, gather to- gether in warlike manner, that our foes may know that, hefore they shall conquer this corpor- ation there are valiant men in Mansoul. 'I will leave off now to chide,1 and will not farther rebuke you ; hut I charge you that henceforwards you let me see no more such actions. Let not henceforward a man of you, without order first obtained from me, so much as show his head over the wall of the town of Mansoul. You have now heard me, do as I have commanded, and you shall cause me that I dwell securely with you, and that I take care as for myself, so for your safety and honour also. Farewell.'1 Now were the townsmen strangely altered ; they were as men stricken with a panic fear ; they ran „, . to and fro through the streets of the When sinners „ ,, , . TT . hearken to Sa- town or Mansoul, crying out, ' Help, set' in'ay rage lielP ! tlie men tliat tunl the WOllJ against godii- UpSide down are come hither also;' ncss. L m ' nor could any of them he quiet after, hut still, as men bereft of wit, they cried out, ' The destroyers of our peace and people are come. ' This went down with Diubolus. ' Aye !' quoth he to himself, ' this I like well, now it is as I would have it; now you show your obedience to your prince, hold you but here, and then let them take the town if they can.' Well, before the King's forces had sat before Mansoul three days, Captain Boanerges commanded The King's trum- his trumpeter to go down to Eargate, pet sounded at and there, in the name of the Great Eargate. „, , , . = . bnauaai, to summons JVlansoul to give audience to the message that he, in his Master's name, was to them commanded to deliver. So the trumpeter, whose name was Take-heed-what-you- hear, went up, as he was commanded, to Ear-gate, and there sounded his trumpet for a hearing; but They will not there was none that appeared that gave answer or regard ; for so had Diabolus commanded. So the trumpeter returned to his captain, and told him what he had done, and 1 To alarm and to persuade are the two principal means by which the devil tempts men ; and it is not uncommon among Christians to fed the influence of both on one occasion. Now, as two things so dissimilar are not likely to arise out of the self-same mind, is not this an evidence of the power of some foreign and infernal influence over the human heart? Let us, then, be always awake to a sense of our danger, and put on the whole armour of God. — (Mason.) also how he had sped. Whereat the captain was grieved, but bid the trumpeter go to his tent. Again Captain Boanerges sendeth his trumpeter to Eargate, to sound, as before, for a a second sum- hearing. But they again kept close, monsrepulsed. came not out, nor would they give him an answer, so observant were they of the command of Diabolus their king.2 Then the captains, and other field-officers, called a council of war,3 to consider what e ., iii r ,i • • A council of war. further was to be done for the gaming of the town of Mansoul, and, after some close and thorough debate upon the contents of their commis- sions, they concluded yet to give to the town, by the hand of the fore-named trumpeter, another summons to hear ; but if that shall be refused, said they, and that the town shall stand it out still, then they determined, and bid the trumpeter tell them so, that they would endeavour, by what means they could, to compel them by force to the obedience of their King. Lu. xiv. 23. So Captain Boanerges commanded his trum- peter to go up to Eargate again, and, a third sum- in the name of the great King Shaddai, IU0I1S- to give it a very loud summons, to come down with- out delay to Eargate, there to give audience to the King's most noble captains. So the trumpeter went and did as he was commanded. He went up to Eargate and sounded his trumpet, and gave a third summons to Mansoul ; he said, moreover, that if this they should still refuse to do, the cap- tains of his Prince would with might come down upon them, and endeavour to reduce them to their obedience by force, is. km. 1. Then rttood up my Lord Will-be-will, who was the governor of the town; this Will- The Lord will.be. be-will was that apostate of whom will: his speech , ! » i.i to the trumpeter. mention was made before, and the keeper of the gates of Mansoul. He, therefore, with big and ruffling words, demanded of the trumpeter who he was, whence he came, and what was the cause of his making so hideous a noise at the gate, and speaking such insufferable words against the town of Mansoul ? The trumpeter answered, ' I am servant to the most noble captain, Captain Boanerges, , r . ^ .1 x r. The trumpeter. general of the forces of the great King Shaddai. against whom both thyself, with the whole town of Mansoul, have rebelled, and lift up the heel; and my master, the captain, hath a special mes- 2 ' Faith cometh by hearing ;' but, alas 1 how ofteu, at the instigation of Satan, is the ear shut against the messages of grace. The Christian inquirer's duty is to hear and search all things, and hold fast that which is good.— (Ed.) 3 The knowledge which Banyan displays upon all subjects is very surprising. He had an opportunity, when in the army, of hearing about councils of war, at which, in that day, captains may have assisted ; but now a captain is not called ' a field- otlicer.' — (Kd.) THE HOLY WAR. 573 sage to tliis town, and to thee as a member thereof; tlie which, if you of Mansoul shall peaceably hear, so;1 and if not, you must take what follows.' Then said the Lord Will-be-will, ' I will carry Will-be-will. *ny words to my lord, and will know what he will say.'-' But the trumpeter The trumpeter. S00I) rCp|;ctit saying, * Our message is not to the giant Diabolus, but to the miserable town of Mansoul. Nor shall we at all regard what answer by him is made, nor yet by any for him. We are sent to this town to recover it from under his cruel tyranny, and to persuade it to submit, as in former times it did, to the most excellent King Shaddai.' Then said the Lord Will-be-will, 'I will do your Wiii-be-wiii. erran^ to the town.' The trumpeter then replied, ' Sir, do not deceive us, The trumpeter. ]est Jn so doing> }.QU an(^ f°r an Captain Con- escutcheon, he had the book of the law wide open [from whence issued a flame of fire] — ' Hear, 0 Mansoul ! Thou, 0 Mansoul, wast once famous for innocency, but now thou art degenerated into lies and deceit. Ro. in. 3, io-23 ; xvi. 17, is. Thou hast heard what my brother the Captain Boanerges hath said ; and it is your wisdom, and will be your happiness, to stoop to, and accept of, conditions of peace and mercy when offered ; especially when offered by one against whom thou hast rebelled, and one who is of power to tear thee in pieces, for so is Shaddai our King; nor, when he is angry, can anything stand before •him. Ps. l. 21, 22. If you say you have not sinned, nor acted rebellion against our King, the whole of your doings, since the day that you cast off his service — and there was the beginning of your sin- will sufficiently testify against you. What else means your hearkening to the tyrant, and your receiving him for your king ? What means else your rejecting of the laws of Shaddai, and your obeying of Diabolus ? Yea, what means this your taking up of arms against, and the shutting of your gates upon us, the faithful servants of your King ? Be ruled then, and accept of my brother's invitation, and overstand not the time of mercy, but agree with thine adversary quickly. Lu. xii. 58, 59. Ah, Mansoul, suffer not thyself to be kept from mercy, and to be run iuto a thousand miseries, by the flattering wiles of Diabolus. Perhaps that piece of deceit may attempt to make you believe thai, we seek our own profit in this our service ;l but know, it is obedience to our King, and love to your happiness, that is the cause of this under- taking of ours. ' Again, I say to thee, 0 Mansoul, consider if it be not amazing grace that Shaddai should so humble himself as he doth. Now, he by us reasons with you, in a way of entreaty and sweet persua- sions, that you would subject yourselves to him. Has he that need of you, that we are sure you have of him ? No, no ; but he is merciful, and will not that Mansoul should die, but turn to him and live.' 2 Co. v. is— 21. Then stood forth Captain Judgment, whose was 1 Godly ministers cannot be too careful in their conduct to guard against the appearance of preferring the fleece to the flock. The worldling has, alas, continual proofs that many are influenced by their own profit instead of love to immortal bonis. — (En.) the red colours, and for an escutcheon he had the burning fiery furnace, and he said, * 0 Ca tain Jli(]^ ye, the inhabitants of the town of Man- ment,his speech soul, that have lived so long in rebel- lion and acts of treason against the King Shaddai; know that we come not to-day to this place, in this manner, with our message of our own minds, or to revenge our own quarrel ; it is the King, my master, that hath sent us to reduce you to your obedience to him, the which if you refuse in si peaceable way to yield, we have commission to compel you thereto. And never think of your- selves, nor yet suffer the tyrant Diabolus to per- suade you to think, that our King, by his power, is not able to bring you down, and to lay you under his feet ; for he is the former of all things, and if he touches the mountains, they smoke. Nor will the gate of the King's clemency stand always open ; for the day that shall burn like an oven is before him, yea, it hasteth greatly, it sluni- bereth not. Mai. iv. 1. 2 Pe. a. 3. ' 0 Mansoul ! Is it little in thine eyes that our King doth offer thee mercy, and that, after so many provocations ? Yea, he still holdeth out his golden sceptre to thee, and will not yet suffer his gate to be shut against thee. Wilt thou provoke him to do it? If so, consider of what I say: — To thee it is opened no more for ever. Job xxxvi. 14. If thou sayest thou shalt not see him, yet judgment is before him ; therefore trust thou in him. Yea, "because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away with his stroke ; then a great ransom cannot deliver thee." ver. is. Will he esteem thy riches ? No; not gold, nor all the forces of strength. "He hath prepared his throne for judgment." Ps. ix. 7. For " he will come with fire, and with his chariots like a whirlwind, to render his anger with fury, and his rebuke with flames of fire." is. lxvi. 15. Therefore, 0 Mansoul, take heed, lest after thou hast fulfilled the judgment of the wicked, justice and judgment should take hold of thee.' Now, while the Captain Judgment was making of this oration to the town of Mansoul, it was ob- served by some that Diabolus trembled.2 But he proceeded in his parable, and said, ' 0 thou woful town of Mansoul ! wilt thou not yet set open thy gate to receive us, the deputies of thy King, and those that would rejoice to see thee live ? "Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong, in the days that he shall deal" in judgment " with thee?" Eze. xxii. 14. I say, canst thou endure to be forced to drink, as one would drink sweet wine, the sea of wrath that our King has prepared for Diabolus and his angels ? Consider betimes, con- sider.' 2 ' The devils believe and tremble ;' so when Paul reasoned of righteousness, temperauce, and judgment to come, Felix trembled. Alas ! many tremble who never turn. — (Burder.) T1TE HOLY WAR. 275 Then stood forth the fourth captain, the noblo , . Captain Execution, and said: *0 town The speech of ' Captain Exe- 01 Mansoul! 0I1CC FamOUS, out now like the fruitless hough ; once the de- light of the high ones, hut now a den for Diabolus: hearken also to me, and to the words that I shall speak to thee in the name of the great Shaddai. Behold " the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down, and cast into the' fire." Jiut.iii.7-io. 'Thou, 0 town of Mansoul! hath hitherto been this fruitless tree; thou bearest nought hut thorns and briars. Thy evil fruit fore-bespeaks thee not to he a good tree. Thy "grapes are grapes of gall, thy elusters are bitter." De. xxxii. 32. Thou hast rebelled against thy King, and lo! we, the power and force of Shaddai, are the axe that is laid to thy roots. What sayest thou, wilt thou turn? I say again, tell me before the first blow is given, wilt thou turn? Our axe must first he laid to thy root, before it be laid at thy root; it must first he laid to thy root in a way of threatening, before it is laid at thy root by way of execution ; and be- tween these two is required thy repentance, and this is all the time that thou hast. What wilt thou do? wilt thou turn, or shall I smite? If I fetch my blow, Mansoul, down you go; for I have commission to lay my axe at, as well as to thy roots, nor will anything hut yielding to our King prevent doing of execution. What art thou fit for, 0 Mansoul, if mercy preventeth not, but to be hewn down, and cast into the fire and burned? '0 Mansoul! patience and forbearance do not act for ever; a year or two, or three, they may; but if thou provoke by a three years' rebellion — and thou hast already done more than this — then what follows but cut it down? Nay, "after that thou shalt cut it down." Lu. xm. 9. And dost thou think that these are but threatenings, or that our King has not power to execute his words? 0 Mansoul! thou wilt find that in the words of our King, when they are by sinners made little or light of, there is not only threatening, but burning coals of fire. Thou hast been a cumber-ground 1 long already, and wilt thou continue so still? Thy sin has brought this army to thy walls, and shall it bring it in judgment to do execution into thy town? Thou hast heard what the captains have said, but as yet thou shuttest thy gates ; speak out, Mansoul, wilt thou do so still, or wilt thou accept of con- ditions of peace?' 2 These brave speeches of these four noble captains the town of Mansoul refused to hear, yet a sound 1 'Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?' La. xiii. 7. ' A cumber-ground professor is not only a provocation to God, » stumbling-block to the world, and a blemish to religion, but a snare to his own soul aLso.' — Bunvan's Barren iiy Dee, Preface.— (Ed.) thereof did beat against Eargate, though the force thereof could not break it open. In fine, the town desired a time to prepare their ,. ] i ,.., MatiMuldcfire* answer to these demands. The ca tains then told them, 'That if they would throw out to them one Illpause, that was in the town, that they might reward him accord- ing to his WOFks, then they would give their, time to consider; hut if they would not east (•.„„, ,, him to them over the wall of Mansoul, then they would give them none ; for,' them time. c said they, ' we know that so long as Illpause draws breath in Mansoul, all good consideration will be confounded, and nothing hut mischief will come thereon.' Then Diabolus, who was there present, being loth to lose his Illpause, because he I)j:ili, : was his orator, (and yet be sure he nipt* , , 1,1 . i i • i i • a,1(l g(-'ts I"- had, could the captains have laid their credu fingers on him,) was resolved at this a"s*crll'c'»- instant to give them answer by himself; but then, changing his mind, he commanded the then Lord Mayor, the Lord Incredulity, to do it, saying, ' My Lord, do you give these runagates an answer; and speak out, that Mansoul may hear, and under- stand you.' So Incredulity, at Diabolus's command, began and said: 'Gentlemen, you have here, as we do behold, to the disturbance of our prince, and the molestation of the town of Mansoul, camped against it: but from whence you come we will not know, and what you are we will not believe. Indeed, you tell us in your terrible speech that you have this authority from Shaddai ; but by what right he commands you to do it, of that we shall yet be ignorant. You have also, by the authority aforesaid, summoned this town to desert her lord ; and for protection, to yield up herself to the great Shaddai, your King ; flatter- ingly telling her, that if she will do it, he will pass by, and not charge her witli her past oifeiices. Further, you have also, to the terror of the town of Mansoul, threatened, with great and sore de- structions, to punish this corporation, if she con- sents not to do as your wills would have her. ' Now, captains, from whencesoever von come, and though your designs be never so right, yet know ye, that neither my lord Diabolus, nor I his servant Incredulity, nor yet our brave Mansoul, doth regard either your persons, message, or the King that you say hath sent you: his power, his greatness, his vengeance, we fear not; nor will we yield at all to your summons. His speech. 2 There is much energy in this speech ; po to the conscience are on en G d to the conTer souls. 0 sinner I consult not flesh and blood- • old Illpause; nor let prwsrastination or 'a more convenient 6casou' destroy thy soul.— (Ed.) 276 THE HOLY WAR. • As for the war that you threaten to make upon us, we must therein defend ourselves as well as we can ; and know ye, that we are not without where- withal to bid defiance to you. And, in short, for I will not he tedious, I tell you that we take you to be some vagabond runagate crew, that, having shaken off all obedience to your King, have gotten together in tumultuous manner, and are ranging from place to place to see if, through the flatteries you are skilled to make on the one side, and threats wherewith you think to fright on the other, to make some silly town, city, or country, to desert their place and leave it to you ; but Mansoul is none of them. To conclude, we dread you not, we fear you not, nor will we obey your summons : our gates we keep shut upon you, our place we will keep you out of; nor will we long thus suffer you to sit down before us. Our people must live in quiet; your appearance doth disturb them (lu. %i 21.); wherefore arise with bag and baggage, and begone, or we will let fly from the walls against you. ' * This oration, made by old Incredulity, was seconded by desperate Will-be-will, in words to this effect : ' Gentlemen, we have heard the Lord Will- your demands, and the noise of your threats, and have heard the sound of your summons, but we fear not your force ; we re- gard not your threats, but will still abide as you found us. And we command you, that in three days' time you cease to appear in these parts, or you shall know what it is once to dare offer to rouse the lion Diabolus, when asleep in his town of Mansoul.' The Recorder, whose name was Forget-good, he _ , , also added as followeth : 'Gentlemen, The speech of lor-jet-itood the my Lords, as you see, have, with mild and gentle words, answered your rough and angry speeches ; they have, moreover, in my hearing, given you leave quietly to depart as you came. Wherefore, take their kindness, and begone. We might have come out with force upon you, and have caused you to feel the dint of our swords ; but as we love ease and quiet ourselves, so we love not to hurt or molest others.'2 Then did the town of Mansoul shout for joy ; as The town re- if, by Diabolus and his crew, some stand the"cap- great advantage had been gotten of tains. tiie captains. They also rang the 1 Thus reasons the flesh — We will not know ; we will not believe ; we v/ill not submit ; we must not be disturbed; there- fore begone ye faithful teachers, or we will persecute you. — (Border.) 2 If the Holy Spirit would let sinners sleep on, all mankind would lie in carnal security until pi untied into destruction and perdition. ' Go into the highways and compel them to come in,' is the command of Divine mercy and irresistible grace. — (Ed.) 3 How admirably is that great enemy 'Prejudice' pictured ; old, angry, ill-conditioned, with Deafness under his command. —(Ed.) bells, and made merry, and danced upon the walls. Diabolus also returned to the castle, and the Lord Mayor and Recorder to their place ; but the Lord Will-be-will took special care that the gates should be secured with double guards, double bolts, and double locks and bars. And that Eargate espe- cially might the better be looked to — for that was the gate in at which the King's forces sought most, to enter — the Lord Will-be-will made one old Mr. Prejudice, an angry and ill-conditioned fellow, captain of the ward at that sate, and m . _ v , . . . „ , The band ot put under his power sixty men, called deafmensetto Deafmen ; 3 men advantageous for eep arga e" that service, forasmuch as they mattered no words of the captains, nor of their soldiers.* [Chapter V.] [Contents : — The captains resolve to give them battle — The town resolutely resists, and the captains retire to wintt r quarters — Tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man's-inven- tion enlist under Boanerges, but are taken prisoners, and carried to Diabolus ; they are admitted soldiers for him, under Captain Anything — Hostilities are renewed, and the town much molested — A famine and mutiny in Man- soul— The town sounds a parley — Propositions made and rejected — Understanding and Conscience quarrel with Incredulity — A skirmish ensues, and mischief is done on both sides.] Now, when the captains saw the answer of the £reat ones, and that they could not m , iii. n The captains re- get a hearing from the old natives or solved to give the town, and that Mansoul was re- thembattle- solved to give the King's army battle, they pre- pared themselves to receive them, and to try it out by the power of the arm. And first, they made their force more formidable against Eargate ; for they knew that unless they could penetrate that, no good could be done upon the town. This done, they put the rest of their men in their places ; after which they gave out the word, which was, 'Ye must be born again.'5 Then they sounded the trumpet ; then they in the town made them answer, with shout against shout, charge against charge, and so the battle began. Now they in the town had planted upon the tower over Eargate, two great guns, two gvms planted the one called Highmind, and the «P<>nEaigate. other Heady. Unto these two guns they trusted The battle be?un. 4 How often do poor mistaken sinners rejoice in their sins and misery — glorying in their shame. Small cause for joy have they who reject the counsel of God against themselves. Miserable is the state of that man whose ears are shut again- 1 the gospel of salvation ; who is deaf to all the calls of God. — (Burder.) 5 As our Lord began with Nieodemus, so it behoves his followers to commence with sinners. How startling the cry, Ye must be born again, or perish everlastingly. * If thou has* anything less than regeneration, believe me,' thou canst nevi r see heaven. There is no hope of heaven till then, till thou ait born again.'— (Archbishop Usher's Sermons.)— (Ed.) THE HOLY AVAR. 277 much ; they were east in the castle by Diabolus's founder, whose name was Mr. Puffup; and mis- chievous pieces they were.1 But so vigilant and watchful, when the captains saw them, were they, that though sometimes their shot would go by their ears with a whiz, yet they did them do harm. By these two guns the towns-folk made no ques- tion hut greatly to annoy the camp of Shaddai, and well enough to Becure the gate, but they had not much cause to hoast of what execution they did, as hy what follows will be gathered. The famous Man soul had also some other small pieces in it, of the which they made use against the camp of Shaddai. They from the camp also did as stoutly, and with as much of that as may in truth he called The sentence valoUr» Iet % as fast at thc town iU"1 and power of at Eargate: for they saw that unless the Word. . , , t i -n they could break open Eargate, it would he hut in vain to hatter the wall. Now thc King's captains had brought with them several slings, and two or three battering-rams ; with their slings, therefore, they battered thc houses and people of the town, and with their rams they sought to break Eargate open. The camp and the town had several skirmishes, and brisk encounters, while the captains, with their engines, made many brave attempts to break open, or beat down, the tower that was over Eargate, and at the said gate to make their entrance. But Mansoul stood it out so lustily, through the rage The town stoutly of Diabolus, the valour of the Lord stands out, and Will-be-will, and the conduct of old the captains re- ... , , . turn to their Incredulity, the Mayor, and Mr. for- winte, quarters. get.good> the Recorder, that the charge and expense of that summer's wars, on the King's side, seemed to be almost quite lost, and the advantage to return to Mansoul. But when the captains saw how it was, they made a fair retreat, and intrenched themselves in their winter quarters. Now in this war, you must needs think there was much loss on both sides, of which he pleased to accept of this brief account follow- ing:—3 The King's captains, when they marched from An account of tllC C0UFt t0 COnle UP aga»,st MaUSOul this war, with to war, as they came crossing over reference to ,, ,, " , . . ,. , . the loss onboth the country, they happened to light s"lc9, upon three young fellows that had a mind to go for soldiers ; proper men they were, and men of courage and skill, to appearance. Three new sol- Their names were Mr. Tradition, Mr. diuls- Human-wisdom, and Mr. Man's-inven- 1 Pride and vain conceit puff up multitudes in even society. My soul, art thou thus puffed U(>, or hast thou ('alien into the arms of Divine mercy? Almighty grace can bring the mountain low, and exalt the valley. A learned persecuting Saul may become a chosen vessel. — (Ed.) tion. So they came up to the captains, and prof- fered their services to Shaddai. The captains then told them of their design, and bid them not to be rash in their offers; but the young men told them they had considered the thing before, and that hearing they were upon their march for Mich B design, came hither on purpose to meet them, that they might be listed under their excellencies. Then Captain Boanerges, for that they were men of courage, listed them into his company, and BO away they went to the war. Now when the war was begun, in one of the briskest skirmishes, so it was, that a company of the Lord Will-be-will's men sallied out at the sally-port, or postern of the town, and fell in upon the rear of Captain Boanergcs's men, where these three fellows happened to be, SO they They are taken took them prisoners, and away they prisoners, carried them into the town; where they had not lain long in durance, but it began to be noised about the streets of the town what three notable prisoners the Lord Will-be-will's men had taken, and brought in prisoners out of the camp of Shad- dai. At length tidings thereof were carried to Diabolus to the castle, to wit, what my Lord Will- be-will's men had done, and whom they had taken prisoners. Then Diabolus called for Will-be-will, to know the certainty of this matter. So he asked him, and he told him ; then did the giant ^ ,miii„,it send for the prisoners, who, when beam D r . and are content they were come, demanded of them to fight under his who they were, whence they came, and what they did in the camp of Shaddai ; and they told him. Then he sent them to ward again. Not many days after, he sent for them to him again, and then asked them if they would be willing to serve him against their former captains. They then told him that they did not so much live by religion, as by the fates of fortune ; and that since his lordship was willing to entertain them, they should be willing to serve him. Now while things were thus in hand, there was one n • a i • i*i Anythii.^. Captain Anything, a great doer in the town of Mansoul, and to this Captain Anything did Diabolus send these men, with a note under his hand to receive them into his com- He l pany ; the contents of which letter ^'",; were thus:— a letter/' ' Anything, my darling, the three men that aro the bearers of this letter have a desire to sen in the war, nor know I better to whose conduct to commit them than to thine ; receive them, there- fore, in my name, and, as need shall require, make 2 The opposition of a raging devil and inbred lusts would had the most able ministers to despair of sue , '1 am with you always;' and 'All that the I giveth me suall come to me.' — (B ' 7S THE HOLY WAR. use of them against Shaddai and his men. Fare- Anything receives wel1'*' So they came, and he received them into hisser- them; and he made of two of them 6erjeants, hut he made Mr. Man's- invention his armour-hearer. But thus much for this, and now to return to the camp.1 They of the camp did also some execution upon The roof of old the town, for they did heat down the l"useUUltCat roof of the old Lord Mayor's house, do«n. anc| so ]a;j h^ more open than he was before. They had almost, with a sling, slain my Lord Will-he-will outright; hut he made a shift to recover again. But they made a notable slaughter among the aldermen, for with one only Six aldermen sbot they cut off six of them; to wit, sIlim- Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Fury, Mr. Stand-to-lies, Mr. Drunkenness, and Mr. Cheating.2 They also dismounted the two ''guns that stood Thetwogreatguns upon the tower over Eargate, and dismounted. kid them flafc Jn the dirt#3 T toJd you before, that the King's noble captains had drawn off to their winter quarters, and had there intrenched themselves and their carriages, so as ■with the best advantage to their King, and the greatest annoyance to the enemy, they might give seasonable and warm alarms to the town of Man- soul. And this design of them did so hit, that, I may say, they did almost what they would to the molestation of the corporation. For now could not Mansoul sleep securely as Continual alarms before, nor could they now go to gnen to Mansoul. their debaucheries with that quiet- ness as in times past. For they had from the camp of Shaddai such frequent, warm, and terri- The effects of fjing alarms; yea, alarms upon alarms, flwugh0 "com- first at one gate, and then at another, mon^'abiding. an(1 aga;n at &]J ^ g.ates at mce> that they were broken as to former peace. Yea, they had their alarms so frequently, and that when the nights* were at longest, the weather coldest, and so consequently the season most unseasonable; that that winter was to the town of Mansoul a winter by itself. Sometimes the trumpets would sound, and sometimes the slings would whirl the The town much stones into the town. Sometimes ten molested. thousand of the King's soldiers would 1 Tradition, Human Wisdom, and Man's Invention have too often been enlisted into the service of religion, but they are in 1 heir element when engaged on the contrary side. Let Diabo- li;s and his Captain Anything have them, and welcome; the gospel of Jesus needs no such services. — (Burder.) - It is curious to note the order in which open profanity hides its ugly heads under the powerful alarms of conscience. Outward reformation gives up very gross sins, but change of heart abhors them all. — (Ed.) 3 Called ' Highmiud and Heady,' founded by Mr. Puffup. -(Ed.) 4 Under awful convictions of sin, Bunyan suffered alarms in the night. — See Grace Abounding, No. 139. — (Ed.) be running round the walls of Mansoul at midnight, shouting, and lifting up the voice for the battle. Sometimes, again, some of them in the town would be wounded, and their cry and lamentable voice would be heard, to the great molestation of the now languishing town of Mansoul. Yea, so dis- tressed with those that laid siege against them were they, that, I dare say, Diabolus their king had, in these days, his rest much broken. In these days, as I was informed, new thoughts, and thoughts that began to run counter Chall(re of one to another, began to possess the thoughts in minds of the men of the town of Man- soul. Some would say, ' There is no living thus ;' others would then reply, ' This will be over shortly.' Then would a third stand up and answer, ' Let us turn to the King Shaddai, and so put an end to these troubles.' And a fourth would come in with a fear, saying, ' I doubt he will not re- conscience ceive us.'5 The old gentleman too, the speaks. Recorder, that was so before Diabolus took Man- soul, he also began to talk aloud ; and his words were now to the town of Mansoul as if they were great claps of thunder. No noise now so terrible to Mansoul as was his, with the noise of the sol- diers, and shoutings of the captains. Also, things began to grow scarce in Mansoul ; now the things that her soul lusted a famine in after were departing from her. Upon MaasouL all her pleasant things there was a blast, and burning instead of beauty. Wrinkles now, and some shows of the shadow of death, were upon the inhabitants of Mansoul.6 And now, 0 how glad would Mansoul have been to have enjoyed quiet- ness and satisfaction of mind, though joined with the meanest condition in the world ! 7 The captains also, in the deep of this winter, did send, by the mouth of Boanerges's T1 are sum_ trumpeter, a summons to Mansoul to moneda^ainto yield up herself to the King, the great 5 King Shaddai. They said it once, and twice, and thrice ; not knowing but that at sometimes there might be in Mansoul some willingness to surrender up themselves unto them, might they but have 6 Six aldermen, or great vices, slain ; Heady and Highmiud dismounted, or pride laid in the dirt ; conscience withiu and a faithful ministry without, shaking Mansoul with terror upon terror. How plainly is all this exhibited in Bunyan's startling experience, published in Grace Abounding. Poor sold, mercy will prevail over all thy stubbornness. — (Ed.) 6 A famine in Mansoul ; the pleasures of sin fail ; the pro- digal would be glad of the meanest service in his father's house; the dreary winter of affliction succeeds the summer of gaiety ; the messages of mercy are renewed, but unbelief yet prevails. -(Ed.) 7 ' Now was I both a burden and a terror to myself, weary of life, afraid to die ; gladly would I have been anything but a man.' ' I counted the state of a dog and toad far better than miue.' — Grace Abounding, No. 104 and 149. Painful and most distressing were the feelings of Bunyan, but it was ' the bitter before the sweet, to make the sweet the sweeter.' — (Ed.) THE HOLY AVAR. 279 the colour of an invitation to do it under. Yea, so far as I could gather, the town had hcen sur- rendered up to them before now, had it not hcen for the opposition of old Incredulity, and the fickle- ness of the thoughts of my Lord Will-he-will. Diaholus also began to rave, wherefore Mansoul, as to yielding, was noi yet all of one mind, there- Mansnni India- fore, they still Laydiatressedundertheae tress. perplexing fears.1 I told you hut now that they of the King's army had this winter sent three times to Mansoul, to suhmit herself. First, The first time the trumpeter went, he went _ . . with words of peace, telling of them, The content* of . i ,i the fint sum- ' That the captains, the noble captains of Shaddai, did pity and bewail the misery of the now perishing town of Mansoul; and was troubled to see them so much to stand in the way of their own deliverance.' lie said, moreover, ' That the captains hid him tell them, that if now poor Mansoul would humble herself, and turn, her former rebellions and most notorious treasons should, by their merciful King, be forgiven them, yea, and forgotten too.' And having bid them ' beware that they stood not in their own way, that they opposed not themselves, nor made them- selves their own losers,' he returned again into the camp. Second. The second time the trumpeter went, . . he did treat them a little more roughly. The contents of , i i i ihe second For after sound of trumpet, he told them, ' That their continuing in their rebellion did hut chafe and heat the spirit of the captains, and that they were resolved to make a conquest of Mansoul, or to lay their bones before the town walls.' Third. He went again the third time, and dealt The contents of *ith them yet more roughly; telling the third sum- of them, ' That now, since they had been so horribly profane, he did not know — not certainly know — whether the captains were inclined to mercy or judgment; only,' said lie, ' they commanded me to give you a summons to open the gates unto them.' So he returned, and went into the camp. These three summons, and especially the two last, did so distress the town, that they presently called a consultation ; the result of which was this, The town sounds that my Lord Will-he-wiU should go fur a naney. Up to Fargate, and there, with sound of trumpet, call to the captains of the camp for a parley. Well, the Lord Will-he-will sounded upon the wall, so the captains came up in their harness, - with their ten thousands at their feet. The towns- men then told the captains that th.y had beard and considered their summons, and ,n , lhev propound would come to an agreement With oonditioiw ol them, and with their King Shaddai, Upon such certain terms, articles, and propositions as, with and by the order of their Prince, thej to them were appointed to propound — to wit, they would agree upon these grounds to be one people with them. * 1. If that those of their own company, as the now Lord Mayor, and their Mr. For- proposition the get-good, with their brave Lord Will- lirst- be-will, might, under Shaddai, he still the governors of the town, castle, and gates of Mansoul. 2. Pro- vided that no man that now serveth proposition the under their great giant Diabolus, be acco"a- by Shaddai cast out of house, harbour, or the freedom that he hath hitherto enjoyed in the fam- ous town of Mansoul. 3. That it shall be granted them, that they of the town of Mansoul proposition the shall enjoy certain of their rights and third- privileges — to wit, such as have formerly been granted them; and that they have long lived in the enjoyment of, under the reign of their king L)ia- bolus, that now is, and long has been, their only lord, and great defender. 4. That no proposition the new law, officer, or executioner of law fourth. or office, shall have any power over them, without their own choice and consent. ' These be our propositions or conditions of peace ; and upon these terms,' said they, ' we will submit to your King.'3 But when the captains had heard this weak and feeble offer of the town of Mansoul, and their high and bold demands, they made to them again, by their noble captain, the Captain Boanerges, this speech following: — ' 0 ye inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, when I heard your trumpet sound for a par- Boanerges, his ley with us, I can truly say I was answer, glad ; but when you said you were willing to sub- mit yourselves to our King and Lord, then I was yet more glad. But when by your silly provisoes, and foolish cavils, you lay the stumbling-block of your iniquity before your own faces, then was my gladness turned into sorrows, and my hopeful be- ginnings of your return into languishing, fainting fears. ' I count that old Illpause, the ancient enemy of Mansoul, did draw up those proposals that now you present us with as terms of an agreement, but they deserve not to he admitted to sound in the ear of any man that pretends to have service for Shaddai. We do, therefore, jointly, and that ''O the unth ought ofimaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt, yielding to desperation.' — Grace Abounding, .No. 180. — (Ed.) 2 Harness, warlike equipments, and accoutrements. — (Ed.) 3 Sinners, when alarmed by the fears of hell, arc willing to M ly, provided they may retain their lordly lasts : they are ready to assume the form of godliness, but dislike its power.— (Burdcx.) 280 THE HOLY WAR. with the highest disdain, refuse and reject such things as the greatest of iniquities.1 a Ti. ii. 19. 'But, 0 Mansoul ! If jou will give yourselves into our hands, or rather into the hands of our King ; and will trust him to make such terms with, and for you, as shall seem good in his eyes — and I dare say they shall he such as you shall find to be most profitable to you — then we will receive you, and be at peace with you. But if you like not to trust yourselves in the arms of Shaddai our King, then things are but where they were before, and we know also what we have to do.' Then cried out old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor, Old Incredu- an(l 9aKh ' And wno> being out of the lay's reply. hands of their enemies, as you see we are now, will be so foolish as to put the staff out of their own hands, into the hand of they know not who ? I, for my part, will never yield to so unlimited a proposition. Do we know the manner and tem- per of their King ? It is said by some, that he will be angry witli his subjects if but the breadth ,y . .. . of a hair they chance to step out of Unbelief never < * L u profitable in the way ; and of others, that he re- ways 'speaks quireth of them much more than they mischievously. CJm perform< Wherefore it seems, 0 Mansoul, to be thy wisdom, to take good heed what thou dost in this matter; for if you once yield, you give up yourselves to another, and so you are no more your own ! Wherefore to give up yourselves to an unlimited power, is the greatest folly in the world. For now you indeed may repent; but can never justly complain. But do you indeed know, when you are his, which of you he will kill, and which of you he will save alive; or whether he will not cut off every one of us, and send out of his own country, another new people, and cause them to inhabit this town ?'2 This speech of the Lord Mayor undid all, and This speech un- threw flat to the ground their hopes of d'd pieuse'the an accord. Wherefore the captains devil. returned to their trenches, to their tents, and to their men, as they were; and the Mayor to the castle, and to his king. Row Diabolus had waited for his return, for he had heard that they had been at their points. So when he was come into the chamber of state, Diabolus saluted him with 'Welcome, my lord, how went matters betwixt you to day V So the Lord Incredulity, with a low con^e,3 told him the whole of the matter, saying, Thus and thus said the Captains of Shaddai, and thus and thus said T. The which when it was told to Diabolus, he was very glad to hear it, and said, ' My Lord Mayor, my faithful Incredulity, I have proved thy fidelity above ten times already, but never yet found thee false. I do promise thee, if we rub over this brunt, to prefer thee to a place of honour, a place far better than to be Lord Mayor of Mansoul. I will make thee my Universal Deputy, and thou shalt, next to me, have all nations under thy hand ; yea, and thou shalt lay bands upon them that they may not resist thee, nor shall any of our vassals walk more at liberty, but those that shall be content to walk in thy fetters.' Now came the Lord Mayor out from Diabolus, as if he had obtained a favour indeed ; wherefore to his habitation he goes in great state, and thinks to feed himself well enough with hopes, until the time came that his greatness should be enlarged. But now, though the Lord Mayor and Diabolus did thus well agree, yet this repulse to the brave captains put Mansoul into a mutiny. For while old Incredulity went into the castle to congratulate his lord with what had passed, the old Lord Mayor that was so before Diabolus came to the town, to wit, my Lord Understanding:, and m .. ' J . ° The under- the old Recorder Mr. Conscience, get- standing and . , ,,. e 1 . 1 1 1 , conscience be- ting intelligence or what had passed at g|u to receive Eargate, for you must know that they g^^S ight not be suffered to be at that soul iu a 11 i 1 1111 1 hubbub. debate, lest they should then have mutinied for the captains. But, I say, they got intelligence what had passed there, and were much concerned therewith, wherefore, they, getting some of the town together, began to possess them with the reasonableness of the noble captains' demands, and with the bad consequences that would follow upon the speech of old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor — to wit, how little reverence he showed therein, either to the captains, or to their King ; also, how he implicitly charged them with unfaithfulness, and treachery : for what less, quoth he, could be made of his words, when he said he would not yield to their proposition, and added, moreover, a supposi- tion that he would destroy us when before he had sent us word that he would show us mercy.4 The multitude being now possessed with the con- viction of the evil that old Incredulity had done, began to run together by companies in A mutiny in all places, and in every corner of the Mansoul. 1 In l lie uproar which soon after followed, upon Lord Under- standing's speech, we find a plain declaration of the third of these terms of peace; it was, that Mansoul should still live iu all lewdness and vauity. '1 his occasioned Boanerges, with the highest disdain, to give his decided refusal, referring to 2 Ti. ii. 1 to y0ur arms> 0 ye, the trusty friends of Diaholus in Mansoul. '- L\nd. ' Sir, you may put upon my words what meaning you please, but I am sure that the cap- tains of such a high Lord as theirs is, deserves a better treatment at your hands.' Ixcred. Then said old Incredulity, ' This is but They chide on little better. But Sir,' quoth he, 'what both sides. j spake, I spake for my prince, for his government, and the quieting of the people, whom 1 See Grace Abounding, No. 4G. ' I was never out of the Bible, either by reading or meditation, still crying out to God, that I might know the truth, and way to heaven and glory.' — (Ed.) 2 This i9 a blessed mutiny ; unbelief is opposed and the hope of pardoning mer ■■;■ en as the margin says, ' Siu and the soul are at odds.' — (Border.) vol. m. hy your unlawful actions you have this day set to mutiny against us.' Cons. Then replied the old Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, and said, 'Sir. you ought not thus to retort upon what my Lord I a- der.standing hath said. It is evident enough that he hath spoken the truth, and that you arc an enemy to Mansoul ; he convinced, then, of the evil of your saucy and malapert language, and of the grief that you have put the captains to; yea, and of the damages that you have done to Mansoul thereby. Had you accepted of the conditions, the sound of the trumpet and the alarm of war had now ceased ahout the town of Mansoul ; but that dreadful sound abides, and your want of wisdom in your speech has been the cause of it.' Inched. Then said old Incredulity : ' Sir, If I live I will do your errand to Diaholus, and there you shall have an answer to your words. Mean- while we will seek the good of the town, and not ask council of you.' Und. ' Sir, your prince and you are both foreign- ers to Mansoul, and not the natives thereof. And who can tell but that when you have brought U3 into greater straits, when you also shall see that yourselves can he safe by no other means than hy flight, you may leave us and shift for yourselves, or set us on fire, and go away in the smoke, or by the light of our burning, and so leave us in our ruins.' Incred. ' Sir, you forget that you are under a governor, and that you ought to demean yourself like a subject,3 and know ye, when my Lord the King shall hear of this day's work, he will give you but little thanks for your labour.' Now while these gentlemen were thus in their chiding words, doAvn come, from the walls and gates of the town, the Lord Will-be- Men of arms will, Mr. Prejudice, Old Illpause, and «"»e<^«i. several of the new-made aldermen and burgesses, and they asked the reason of tho hubbub and tumult. And with that every man began to tell bis own tale, so that nothing could be heard dis- tinctly. Then was a silence commanded, and the old fox Incredulity began to speak. 'My Lord,' quoth he, • here are a couple of peevish gentle- men, that have, as a fruit of their bad disposi- tions, and, as I fear, through the advice of one Mr. Discontent, tumultuously gathered this company inst me this day; and also attempted to run the town into acts of rebellion against our prince.' 3 This is the true language of antichrist to this day ; when governors or laws infringe upon the rights of consci matters of the soul's health, and salvation"; it is the CI duty to resist such wicked statutes. The answer is, ' It is the law, and whether right or wrong, if it even lead your souls to perdition, you must obey; "demean yourself like a subject."' —(Ed.) SO 282 THE HOLY WAR. Then stood up all the Diabolonians that were A great confu- present, and affirmed these things to sion- he true. Now when they that took part with my Lord Understanding, and with Mr. Conscience, perceived that they were like to come to the worst, for that force and power was on the other side, they came in for their help and relief. So a great company was on both sides.1 Then they on Incredulity's side would have had the two old gentlemen pre- sently away to prison ; but they on the other side said they should not. Then they began to cry up parties again; the Diabolonians cried up old In- credulity, Forget-good, the new aldermen, and their great one Diabolus ; and the other party, they as fast cried up Shaddai, the captains, his laws, their mercifulness, and applauded their con- ditions and ways. Thus the hickerment went a They fall from while, at last they passed from words words to blows. t0 bl0WS) ancl „o\v there were knocks on both sides. The good old gentleman, Mr. Con- science, was knocked down twice by one of the Diabolonians, whose name was Mr. Benumming. And my Lord Understanding had like to have been slain with a harquebus, but that he that shot wanted to take his aim aright. Nor did the other side wholly escape, for there was one Mr. Rashhead, a Diabolonian, that had his brains beaten out by Mr. Mind, the Lord Will-be-will's servant ; and it made me laugh to see how old Mr. Prejudice was kicked and tumbled about in the dirt. For though a while since he was made captain of a company of the Diabolonians, to the hurt and damage of the town ; yet now they had got him under their feet; and I will assure you he had by some of the Lord Understanding's party his crown soundly cracked to boot. Mr. Anything also, he became a brisk man in the broil, but both sides were against him, because he was true to none. Yet he had for his malapertness one of his legs broken, and he that did it wished it had been his neck. Much harm Harm done on more was done on both sides, but this both sides. must not be forgotten, it was now a wonder to see my Lord Will-be-will so indifferent as he was ; he did not seem to take one side more than another, only it was perceived that he smiled to see how old Prejudice was tumbled up and down in the dirt. Also when Captain Anything came halting up before him, he seemed to take but little notice of him.2 A hot skirmish. [Chapter VI.] [Contents : — Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience impri- soned as authors of the disturbance — A conference of the besieging officers, who agree to petition Shaddai for further assistance — The petition approved at court — Emmanuel, the King's son, is appointed to conquer the town — Marches with a great army and surrounds Mansoul, which is strongly fortified against him.] Now when the uproar was over, Diabolus sends for my Lord Understanding, and Mr. r^ two old Conscience, and claps them both up gentlemen put i . i In Pnso,,» as in prison, as the ring-leaders and the authors of ~ A, . . , . , this revel rout. managers of this most heavy riotous rout in Mansoul. So now the town began to be quiet again, and the prisoners were used hardly ; yea, he thought to have made them away, but that the present juncture did not serve for that purpose, for that war was in all their gates.3 But let us return again to our story. The captains, when they were gone back from the gate, and were come into the camp again, called The captains • i o i. i . call a council a council of war, to consult what was aud consujt further for them to do. Now some w'1:»ttodo. said, Let us go up presently and fall upon the town, but the greatest part thought rather better it would be to give them another summons to yield; and the reason why they thought this to be best was, because, that so far as could be per- ceived, the town of Mansoul now was more inclin- able than heretofore. And if, said they, while some of them are in a way of inclination, we should by ruggedness give them distaste, we may set them further from closing with our summons, than we would be willing they should.4 Wherefore to this advice they agreed, and called a trumpeter, put words into his mouth, The result is set him his time, and bid him God they send an- speed. Well, many hours were not ex- *h£ «£ pired before the trumpeter addressed tl.ieldtown t0 himself to his journey. Wherefore, coming up to the wall of the town, he steereth his course to Eargate, and there sounded, as he was commanded. They, then, that were within came out to see what was the matter, and the trumpeter made them this speech following: — 1 0 hard-hearted, and deplorable town of Man- soul, how long wilt thou love thy sin- The summons ful, sinful simplicity, and ye fools Ibd£ delight in your scorning? As yet despise you the offers of peace, and deliverance ? As yet will ye 1 See this solemn inward struggle faithfully narrated in Grace Abounding, No. 86. 2 No small advantage is gained when sinful ras/iness is de- stroyed, prejudice thrown down into the dirt, and indifference about religion is discarded; while the will, that before was wholly on the part of Satan, begins rather to take the other side. — (Burder.) 3 The efforts of an enlightened understanding aud a renewed conscience are offensive to Satan, as threatening to subvert his authority in the soul, and he would kill them if he could, but where the good work of grace is begun, they canuot be de- stroyed.— (Burder.) 4 Ministers should deal gently with awakened sinners. Their great Master 'will not break the bruised reed,' nor should they. Koughness discourages — gentleness attracts. — (Burder.) THE HOLY WAR. 233 refuse the golden offers of Shaddai, anil trust to the lies and falsehoods of Diaholus? Think you when Shaddai should have conquered you, that the remembrance of these your carriages towards him, will yield you peace and eomfort; or that, by ruffling language, you can make him afraid as a grasshopper? Doth ho entreat you, for fear of you? Do you think that you are stronger than he? Look to the heavens, and hehold, and con- sider the stars, how high are they ? Can you stop the sun from running his course, and hinder the moon from giving her light? Can you count the number of the stars, or stay the bottles of heaven? Can you call for the waters of the sea, and cause them to cover the face of the ground? Can you hehold every one that is proud, and abase him, and bind their faces in secret?1 Yet these are some of the works of our King, in whose name, this day, we come up unto you, that you may be brought under his authority. In his name, there- fore, I summon you again, to yield up yourselves to his captains.' At this summons the Mansoulians seemed to be The town at a &t a stand, and knew not what answer stand. to make . wherefore Diaholus forth- with appeared, and took upon him to do it himself, and thus he begins, but turns his speech to them of Mansoul: — ' Gentlemen,' quoth he, ' and my faithful subjects, Diabolus makes ^ ^ *s *rue *na*; *his summoner hath a speech to the sajj concerning the greatness of their town; and eu- • , . •,, , devours to King, by Ins terror you will always the" greatness he kept in bondage, and so be made of God. j0 sneak# Yea, how can you now, though he is at a distance, endure to think of such a mighty one? And if not to think of him, while at a distance, how can you endure to be in his presence? I, your prince, am familiar with you, and you may play with me as you would with a grasshopper. Consider, therefore, what is for your profit, and remember the immunities that I have granted you. Farther, if all be true that this man hath said, how comes it to pass that the subjects of Shaddai are so enslaved in all places where they come? None in the universe so un- happy as they, none so trampled upon as they.2 Consider, my Mausoul. Would thou wert as loth to leave me, as I am loth to leave thee! But con- sider, I say, the ball is yet at thy foot; liberty you have, if you know how to use it ; yea, a king you have too, if you can tell how to love and obey him.' 1 Most of this language is from the book of Job. — (Ed.) 2 This old slander of the father of lies was well answered by the poor boy, while sweeping a chimney, who sung — •The sorrow of the mind. Be banish'd Irom tl.is place, Beligii d never was designed, Tu make our pleasure 3 'This is exemplified in Btmyan's experience. * By the strong Upon this speech, the town of Mansoul did again harden their hearts vet more agaiust „ , . • mi ii He dnvei M;, ii- tne captains ol Miaddai. i be thoughts boh] iuto de- of his greatness did quite quash them, bl''ur' and the thoughts of his holiness sunk them in despair.3 Wherefore, after a short consultation, they, of the Diabolonian party they were, sent back this word by the trumpeter, ' That, for their parts, they were resolved to stick to Man?oul ^ their king: but never to yield to worse and . , . . . worse. Shaddai.' So it was but in vain to give them any further summons, for they had rather die upon the place than yield. And now things seemed to be gone quite back, and Man- soul to be out of reach or call ; yet the captains, who knew what their Lord could do, would not yet be beat out of heart. They therefore send them another summons, more sharp and severe than the last ; but the oftener they were sent to, to be reconciled to Shaddai, the further off they were. 'As they called them, so they went from them : ' yea, ' though they called them to the most High.' Ho. xi. 2, 7. So they ceased that way to deal with them any more, and inclined to think of an- The captains other way. The captains, therefore, leave olt to .. . . J . ,x , summons, and did gather themselves together, to betake tliem- have free conference among them- SL'Nesl0Pra>er- selves, to know what was yet to be done to gain the town, and to deliver it from the tyranny of Diabolus. And one said after this manner, and another after that. Then stood up the right noble, the Captain Conviction, and said, ' My brethren, mine opinion is this: — * First. That we continually play our slings into the town, and keep it in a continual alarm, molest- ing of them day and night ; by thus doing we shall stop the growth of their rampant spirit. For a lion may be tamed by continual molestations.4 'Second. This done, I advise that, in the next place, we, with one consent, draw up a petition to our Lord Shaddai ; by which, alter we have showed our King the condition of Mansoul, and of affairs here, and have begged his pardon for our no better success, we will earnestly implore his Majesty's heip, and that he will j. lease to send us more force and power ; and some gallant and well-spokeu commander to head them ; that so his Majesty may not lose the benefit of these his good beginnings, but may complete his conquest upon the town of Mansoul. 's and unusual assaults of the tempter was my sold like a vessel, driven as with the wind, and tossed sometimes headlong into despair.' — Grace Abounding, A'o. 185. — (Eu.) 4 This is exemplified in Grace Abounding, No. 139 and 140. — (Ed.) 6 Paul may plant and Apollos water, but God alone c the increase. To him, therefore, they wisely apply for further assistauce. — (Burder.) 284 THE HOLY WAR. To this speech of the nohle Captain Conviction, they, as one man, consented ; and agreed that a petition should forthwith he drawn up, and sent fit man, away to Shaddai with speed. The contents of the petition were thus: — ' Most gracious and glorious King, the Lord of the best world, and the builder of the town of Mansoul: We have, dread Sovereign, at thy com- mandment, put our lives in jeopardy, and at thy bidding made a war upon the famous town of 111. When we went up against it, we did, according to our commission, first offer conditions of peace unto it. But they, great King, set light by our counsel, and would none of our reproof. Mat wii. 5. rr. i. 23-so. Zee. i. li, 12. They were for shutting of their gates, and for keeping us out of the town. They also mounted their guns, they sallied out upon us, and have done us what damage they could ; hut we pursued them, with alarm upon alarm, requiting of them with such retribution as was meet, and have done some execution upon the town. Diaholus, Incredulity, and Will-be-will are the great doers against us ; now we are in our winter quarters, hut so as that we do yet with an high hand molest and distress the town. Once, as we think, had we had hut one substantial friend in the town, such as would but have seconded the sound of our summons as they ought, the people might have yielded themselves. But there were none but enemies there, nor any to sneak in behalf of our Lord to the town ; wherefore, though we have done as we could, yet Mansoul abides in a state of rebellion against thee.1 Now, King of kings, let it please thee to pardon the unsuccess- fulness of thy servants, who have been no more advantageous in so desirable a work as the con- quering of Mansoul is ; and send, Lord, as we now desire, more forces to Mansoul, that it may be subdued ; and a man to head them, that the town may both love and fear. We do not thus speak because we are willing to relinquish the wars— for we are for laying of our bones against the place — hut that the town of Mansoul may be won for thy ty. We also pray thy Majesty for expedi- tion in this matter, that, after their conquest, we may he at liberty to be sent about other thy gra- cious designs. Amen.' The petition thus drawn up was sent away with Who carried haste to the King, by the hand of that thi. petition. good manj Mr> Love-to-mansoul. When this petition was come to the palace of Towhomitvas the King, who should it be delivered delivered. to but ^ fchfl King,fl g(m< go ^ ^ 1 Bishop YVilkins, in his Gift of Prayer, gives an awful picture of man's total depravity ami departure from God by tiie fall. ' What a world of mischief,' says he, ' is there in our Bereral parts ! our wills, our affections, our tongue And yet all these are hut as little rivulets: the it and read it, and because the contents of it pleased him well, he mended, and also in some things, added to the petition himself. So after he had made such amendments and additions as he thought convenient, with his own hand, he carried it in to the King ; to whom when he had The Kjn[r re_ with obeisance delivered it, he put on ccives it with authority, and spake to it himself.2 Now the King, at the sight of the petition, was glad; but how much more think you, when it was seconded by his Son ? It pleased him also to hear that his servants that camped against Mansoul were so hearty in the work, and so steadfast in their resolves, and that they had already got some ground upon the famous town of Mansoul. Wherefore the King called to him Emmanuel his Son, who said, Here am I, my Father. Then said the King, Thou his Son, and knowest, as I do myself, the condition heeUsshali"go'to of the town of Mansoul, and what we conquer the * town of Man- have purposed, and what thou hast soul, and he is done to redeem it. Come now, there- fore, my Son, and prepare thyself for the war, for thou shalt go to my camp at Mansoul. Thou shalt also there prosper, and prevail, and conquer the town of Mansoul. Then said the King's Son, Thy law is within my heart. I delight to do thy will. Hesolacethhim- iie.x. This is the day that I have £gitsofS longed for, and the work that I have W0lk- waited for all this while. Grant me, therefore, what force thou shalt in thy wisdom think meet, and I will go, and will deliver from Diaholus, and from his power, thy perishing town of Mansoul. My heart has been often pained within me for the miserable town of Mansoul ; but now it is rejoiced, but now it is glad. And with that he leaped over the mountains for joy ; saying, I have not, in my heart, thought anything too dear for Mansoul ; the day of vengeance is in mine heart for thee, my Mansoul ; and glad am I that thou, my Father, hast made me the Captain of their salvation. He. ii. 10. And I will now begin to plague all those that have been a plague to my town of Mansoul, and will deliver it from their hand. When the King's Son had said thus to his Fa- ther, it presently flew like lightning round about at court ; yea, it there became the only talk what Emmanuel was to go to do for the famous town of Mansoul. But you cannot think how Thehighest peer the courtiers too were taken with this coveuS°un design of the Prince. Yea, so affected tkis desls"- rather the sea, that feeds them, is our corrupted nature.' — ■ (Mason.) 2 Jesus Christ is our great advocate above. He receives, .. , amends, and presents our prayers ; and those petitions which S our affections, our tongues, and eyes! have the glory of God for their object, cannot but be acceptable fountain, or , to hiin.— (Burder.) THE HOLY WAR. ess were tliey with this work, and with the justness of tlic war, that the highest lord and greatest peer of the kingdom did covet to have commissions under Emmanuel, to go to help to recover again to Shaddai the miserable town of Mansoul.1 Then was it concluded that some should go and carry tidings to the camp that Emmanuel was to oome to recover Mansoul, and thai he would bring along with him bo mighty, so impregnable a force, that lie could not he resisted. Bui <>, how ready were the high ones at court to run like lackeys to cany these tidings to the' camp that was at Man- soul ! Now when the captains perceived that the King would send Emmanuel his Son, and that it also delighted the Son to he Bent on this errand by the great Shaddai, his Father, they also, to The camp shouts show how thev were pleased at the for joy when ,1 1 . c i • • , tiny hear the thoughts Ot IllS COllllUg, gave a SllOllt tidings. t]iat ni;uie t]ie earth rend at the sound thereof. Yea, the mountains did answer again by echo, and Diaholus himself did totter and shake. For you must know, that though the town of Mansoul itself was not much, if at all, concerned with the project — for, alas for them, they were wofully hesotted, for they chiefly regarded their Diaholus afraid pleasure and their lusts— yet Diabo- at the news of his their governor was ; for he had his spies continually abroad, who brought him intelligence of all things, and they told him what was doing at court against him, and. that Emmanuel would shortly certainly come with a power to invade him. Nor was there any man at court, nor peer of the kingdom, that Diaholus so feared as he feared this Prince. For if you re- member, I showed you before that Diaholus had felt the weight of his hand already. So that, since it was he that was to come, this made him the more afraid. Well, you see how I have told you that the King's Son was engaged to come from the court to save Mansoul, and that his Father had made him the Captain of the forces. The The Trincc ad- time, therefore, of his setting forth ftThtahiio^ being now expired, he addressed him- IK>- self fur his march, and taketh with 1 How honourable a work is it to make known the gospel! Every Bainl is thus honoured, it by his walk and converse lie wins souls t.> Christ; ; priests under the new covenant; they are made ' Kings and priests unto God.' The angels desire to look into these things. ' I in heaven covets to go on this design.' How does God ho- nour his saints! The pious D . or servant, the godly artizan or mechanic, the humble Christian merchant Or nobleman 'that turn many the stars fur ever and ever?' Can we wonder that some proud nun should vainly boast themselves as possessing a monopoly of this glory ?— (Ed.) 2 The powerful influences, giftsand graces, of the Holy Spirit, Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience, under the im- mediate command of Christ, lead on the new covenant forces to conqi fter il had been convinced and alarmed by the terrors of the laws. — (En.) him, for his power, five noble captains and their The first was that famous captain, the i Captain Credence. Bis were the red coloui Mr. Promise bore them, and for a scutcheon In- had the holy lamb and golden shield. And he had ten thousand men at I 29, Bp, u. 18. The set 1 was that famous captain, thi tain Goodhope. His were the blue colours, his Btandard-bearer was Mr. Expectation, and for a scutcheon he had the three golden anchors.8 And he had ten thousand men at his feet, Bt.vi.19. The third captain was thai valiant captain, the Captain Charity. His standard-hearer was Mr. Pitiful, his were the green colours, and for his scutcheon he had three naked orphan- embraced in the bosom. And he bad ten thousand men at bis feet. 1 c0. xin. The fourth was that gallant command* Captain Innocent. His Btandard-bearer was Mr. Harmless, his were the white colours, and for his scutcheon he had the three golden doves. He. x. 16. The fifth was the truly loyal and well-bi captain, the Captain Patience. His standard- bearer was Mr. Suffer-long, his were the black colours, and for a scutcheon he had three arrows through the golden heart. lie. vi. 12. These were Emmanuel's captains, these their standard-bearers, their colours, and their scut- cheons,4 and these the nun under their command. So, as was said, the brave Prince took his march to go to the town of Mansoul. Cap- ia;ti, and Patience tain Credence led the van, and Cap- dolhc work- tain Patience brought up the rear. So the other three, with their men, made up the main body; the Prince himself riding in his chariot at the head of them.5 But when they set out for their march, I the trumpets sounded, their armour glittered, and how the colours waved in the wind ! The Prince's armour was all of gold, and it shone like the sun in the firmament. The captains' armour was of proof, and was in appear- ance like the glittering stars. There were also 3 ' The three golden anchors.' When Christiana the house of the Interpreter, she had a golden ami., r - her, for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it lute necessity that you may lay hold of that within the veil, :.nd stand steadfast in turbulent weather, .loci iii. 16; II' . Here we find two golden anchors, hut where is the third? — ( En.) 4 These standards are all scriptural: Faith in the I.. that was slain ; : Chanty and the orphan Innocent with the 1 and his arrows in the heart. 1'-. wwm. -'. Bunju the use of standards in the civil war. — (Ed.) '• When Jesus comes to effect the conquest of the human soul, he is gloriously attended with ' faith, hope, love, innocence, and pal van; patience brings up the n ' tion, In. ■ je-ty, conquering uud to conquer.— (iiuruer. ) 2S6 THE HOLY WAR. some from the court that rode reformades,1 for the love that they had to the King Shaddai, and for the happy deliverance of the town of Man- soul.2 Emmanuel also, when he had thus set forward to go to recover the town of Mansoul, took with _. noIvBil))e him, at the commandment of his Fa- containing (j« ther, forty-four battering rams, and twelve slings, to whirl stones withal. Every one of these was made of pure gold; and these they carried with them in the heart and body of their army, all along as they went to Mansoul. So they marched till they came within less than a league of the town. And there they lay till the first four captains came thither, to acquaint him with matters. Then they took their journey to go to the town of Mansoul, and unto Mansoul they came. But when the old soldiers that were in the Tlie forces camP saAV tnat tney ^la(^ new forces to joined with join with, they again gave such a shout before the walls of the town of Mansoul, that it put Diabolns into another fright. So they sat down before the town, not now as the other four captains did, to wit, against the gates of Man- Mansoui be- sou^ on^ » Dut tneJ enyironed it round leaenered on every side, and beset it behind and before ; so that now, let Mansoul look which way it will, it saw force and power lie in siege against it. Besides, there were mounts cast up against it. The Mount Gracious was on the one side, and Mounts east up Mount Justice was on the other; fur- againstit. ^ej.^ tnere were several sma]} banks and advance-ground — as Plaintruth Hill, and No- sin Banks — where many of the slings were placed against the town. Upon Mount Gracious were planted four, and upon Mount Justice were planted as many ; and the rest were conveniently placed in several parts round about the town. Five of the best battering rams — that is, of the biggest of them— were placed upon Mount Hearken°; a mount cast up hard by Eargate, with intent to break that open.4 Now, when the men of the town saw the mul- titude of the soldiers that were come up against the place, and the rams and slings, and the mounts on which they were planted, together with the glittering of the armour and the wavino- 0f their 1 'Reformades,1 angel volunteer officers, not attached to any troop or company. — (Ed.) 2 No Bigh, no murmur, his elect shall hear, Prom ev'ry face he'll wipe oil' ev'ry tear; In adamantine chains shall death be bound, And hell's grim tyrant l'eel th' eternal wound. [Messiah,) 8 The text states forty-four battering-rams and twelve dings, which the margin interprets to mean the si.rly-six books of the Holy Bible. Jt would be a task for Aquiims to discover which are rams and which the slings. The whole of this paragraph .8 omitted in the second edition, 1084, but is re-inserted in colours, they were forced to shift and shift, and aenda to ceremoniea of the flag, and also to would " have know of them whioh of the things nwrcyorjuatice. they would choose, whether grace and mercy, or judgment and the execution of judg- ment. All this while they kept their gates shut with locks, bolts, and bars, as fast as they could; their guards, also, wore doubled, and their watch made as strong as they could. Diaholus also did pluck up what heart he could to encourage the town to make resistance. The townsmen also made answer to the Prince's messenger, in suhstance, according to that which follows :— 'Great Sir, as to what hy your messenger you The townsfolk's nave signified to US, whether we will "*""' accept of your mercy or fall hy your justice, we are hound hy the law and custom of this place, and can give you no positive answer. For it is against the law, government, and the prerogative royal of our king, to make either peace or war without him. But this we will do, we will petition that our prince will come down to the wall, and there give you such treatment as he shall think fit, and profitable for us.' When the good Prince Emmanuel heard this answer, and saw the slavery and bondage of the people, and how much content they were to abide v „„. . , in the chains of the tyrant Diaholus, tmmnnuelzneved •> folly of it grieved him at the heart. And, indeed, when at any time he perceived that any were contented under the slavery of the giant, he would he affected with it. But to return again to our purpose. After the town had carried this news to Diaholus, and had told him, moreover, that the Prince that lay in the leaguer1 without the wall, waited upon them for an answer, he refused, and hulled as well as he could, but in heart he was afraid. Then, said he, I will go down to the gates myself, and give him such an answer as I think fit. So he went down to Motithgate, and there addressed himself to speak to Emmanuel, but in such language as the town understood not, the contents whereof were as follows: — 1 0 thou great Emmanuel, Lord of all the world, iils fprech to I know thee that thou art the Sou oi the Prince. t]ie (^reat Shaddai ! Wherefore art thou come to torment me, and to cast me out of my possession? This town of Mansoul, as thou very well knowest, is mine, and that by twofold right. 1. It is mine by right of conquest, I won it in the open field. And shall the prey lie taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive be delivered? 2. M;uismiiI. l->i.ili"lus afraid. 1 ' Leaguer,' the camp and treuches in wl ermy are sheltered. — (Lo.) besieging This town of Mansoul is mine also by their subjec- tion. They have opened the gates of their town unto me, they have sworn fidelity to me, and have openly chosen me to be their king. They bavi their castle into my hand--; yea, they have put the whole strength of Man- soul under me. Moreover, this town of Mansoul hath disavowed thee; yea, they have cast thy law, thy name, thy image, and all that is thine, behind their hack, and have accepted, and set up in their room, my law, my name, mine image, and all that ever is mine. Ask else thy captains, and they will tell thee that Mansoul hath, in answer to all their BUmmonS, shown love and loyally to me; but al- ways disdain, despite, contempt, and Bcorn to thee and thine. Now thou art the .lust One, and tho Holy, and shouldest do no iniquity; depart then, 1 pray thee, therefore, from me, and leave me to my just inheritance, peaceably.' This oration was made in tho language of Dia- holus himself. For although be can, to every man, speak in their own language — else he could not tempt them all as he does — yet he has a lam. proper to himself, and it is the language of the infernal cave, or black pit. Wherefore the town of Mansoul, poor hcart3, understood him not, nor did they see how he crouched and cringed, while he stood before Em- manuel their prince. Yea, they all this while took him to bo one of that power and force that by no means Could be resisted. Wherefore, while he WM thus intreating that he might yet have bis residence there, and that Emmanuel would not take it from him by force, the inhabitants boasted even of his valour, saying, 'Who is able to make war with bun?' Well, when this pretended king had made an end of what he would say, Emmanuel, the golden Prince, stood up and spake, the contents of whose words follow : — 'Thou deceiving one,' said he, 'I have in my Father's name, in mine own name, :ymm,um.v,,u. and on the behalf and for the good of »«>/ tuDfcbot- this wretched town of Mansoul, some- what to say unto thee. Thou pretended a right, a lawful right, to the deplorable town of Mansoul, when it is most apparent to all my Father's court, that the entrance which thou hast obtained in at the gates of Mansoul was through thy lies and falsehood. Thou beliedst my Father, thou beliedst his law, and so deceivedst the people of Mansoul. Thou pn ■ that the people have accepted thee for their king, their captain, and right liege-h,rd, but thai was by the exercise of deceit and guile. if lying wiliness, sinful craft, and all mai horrible hypocrisy, will go in my Father's court for equity and right, in which curt thou most be tried, then will 1 confess unto thee that thou bast made a lawful conquest. But alas what thief, 2SS THE HOLY WAR. what tyrant, wliat devil is there that may not con- quer after this sort? But I can make it appear, 0 Diabolus, that thou, in all thy pretences to a con- quest of Mansoul, hast nothing of truth to say. Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou didst put the lie upon my Father, and madest him, to Man- soul, the greatest deluder in the world. And what sayest thou to thy perverting, knowingly, the right purport and intent of the law? Was it good also that thou madest a prey of the innocency and sim- plicity of the now miserable town of Mansoul? Yea, thou didst overcome Mansoul by promising to them happiness in their transgressions against my Father's law, when thou kuewest, and couldest not but know, hadst thou consulted nothing but thine own experience, that that was the way to undo them. Thou hast also thyself — 0 thou master of enmity, of despite — defaced my Father's image in Mansoul, and set up thy own in its place, to the great contempt of my Father, the heighten- ing of thy sin, and to the intolerable damage of the perishing town of Mansoul. Thou hast, moreover — as if all these were but little things with thee — hot only deluded and undone this place, but, by thy lies and fraudulent carriage hast set them against their own deliverance. How hast thou stirred them up against my Father's captains, and made them to fight against those that were sent of him to deliver them from their bondage ! All these things and very many more thou hast done against thy light, and in contempt of my Father and of his law ; yea, and with design to bring under his displeasure for ever the miserable town of Mansoul. I am there- fore come to avenge the wrong that thou hast done to my Father, and to deal with thee for the blas- phemies wherewith thou hast made poor Mansoul blaspheme his name. Yea, upon thy head, thou prince of the infernal cave, will I require it. * As for myself, 0 Diabolus, I am come against thee by lawful power, and to take, by strength of hand, this town of Mansoul out of thy burning lingers. For this town of Mansoul is mine, 0 Diabolus, and that by undoubted right, as all shall see that will diligently search the most ancient and most authentic records, and I will plead my title to it, to the confusion of thy face. 'First. For the town of Mansoul, my Father built and did fashion it with his hand. The palace also that is in the midst of that town, he built it fur his own delight. This town of Mansoul there- fore is my Father's, and that by the best of titles ; and he that gainsays the truth of this must lie against his soul. * Second. 0 thou master of the lie, this town of Mansoul is mine. 1 1. For that I am my Father's heir, his first- born, and the only delight of his heart. I am therefore come up against thee in mine own right, ' even to recover mine own inheritance out of thine I hand. He. i. 2 ; Jn. xvi. 15. ' 2. But further, as I have a right and title to Mansoul, by being my Father's heir, so I have also by my Father's donation. His it was, and he o-ave it me (Jn. xvii.) •, nor have I at any time offended 1 my Father, that he should take it from me and give it to thee. Nor have I been forced by play- ing the bankrupt to sell, or set to sale to thee, my beloved town of Mansoul. is. 1. 1. Mansoul is my desire, my delight, and the joy of my heart. But, * 3. Mansoul is mine by right of purchase. I have bought it, 0 Diabolus, I have bought it to myself. Now, since it was my Father's and mine, as I was his heir; and since also I have made it mine by virtue of a great purchase, it followeth, that by all lawful right the town of Mansoid is mine, and that thou art an usurper, a tyrant, and traitor, in thy holding possession thereof. Now, the cause of my purchasing of it was this : Man- soul had trespassed against my Father ; now my Father had said, that in the day that they broke his law they should die. Now it is more possible for heaven and earth to pass away, than for my Father to break his word. Mat. v. is. Wherefore, when Mansoul had sinned indeed by hearkening to thy lie, I put in and became a surety to my Father, body for body, and soul for soul, that I would make amends for Mansoul's transgressions; and my Father did accept thereof. So when o sweet Prince, the time appointed was come, I gave Emmanuel body for body, soul for soul, life for life, blood for blood, and so redeemed my beloved Mansoul. ' 4. Nor did I do this to the halves ; my Father's law and justice that were both concerned in the threatening upon transgression, are both now satis- fied, and very well content that Mansoul should be delivered. ' 5. Nor am I come out this day against thee but by commandment of my Father; it was he that said unto me, Go down and deliver Mansoul. ' Wherefore, be it known unto thee, 0 thou fountain of deceit, and be it also known to the foolish town of Mansoul, that I am not come against thee this day without my Father. ' And now, ' said the golden-headed Prince, ' 1 have a word to the town of Mansoul ; ' . . A word from but as soon as mention was made that .Emmanuel to he had a word to speak to the besotted ' anso town of Mansoul, the gates were double guarded, and all men commanded not to give him audience, so he proceeded, and said, ' 0 unhappy town of Mansoul, I cannot but be touched with pity and compassion for thee. Thou hast accepted of Dia- bolus for thy king, and art become a nurse and minister of Diabolonians against thy Sovereign Lord. Thy gates thou hast opened to him, but hast shut them fast against me ; thou hast given THE HOLY WAR. «: - '.' him a hearing, hut hast Btopped thine ears nt mj cry; he brought to thee thy destruction, and thou didst receive both him and it: I am come to thee bringing salvation, but thou regardest me not. Besides, thou hast, as with sacrilegious hands, taken thyself with all that was mini.' in thee, and hast given all to mv too, and to the greatest enenaj my Father has. You haw bowed and subjected yourselves to him; you have VOWed and sworn yourselves to he his. Poor Mansoul! what shall I do unt i thee? Shall 1 Bave tine' shall I de- stroy thee? What shall 1 do unto thee? Bholl 1 fall upon thee and grind thee to powder, or make thee a monument of the richest grace? What shall I do unto thee!1 Hearken, therefore, thou town of Mansoul, hearken to my word, and thou shalt live. 1 am merciful, Mansoul, and thou shalt find me so; shut me not out of thy gates. C*. v. •>. * 0 Mansoul, neither is my commission, nor in- clination, at all to do thee any hurt ; why fliest thou so fast from thy friend, and stiekest so close to thine enemy ? Indeed, 1 would have thee, be- cause it becomes thee, to he sorry for thy sin ; but do not despair of life, this great force is not to hurt thee, but to deliver thee from thy bondage, and to reduce thee to thy obedience. Lu. ix. 56. Jn. xii. 47. ' My commission, indeed, is to make a war upon Diabolus thy king, and upon all Diabolonians with him ; for he is the strong man armed that keeps the house, and 1 will have him out; his spoils 1 must divide,1 his armour I must take from him, his hold I must cast him out of, and must make it an habitation for myself. And this, 0 Mansoul, shall Diabolus know, when he shall be made to follow me in chains, and when Mansoul shall re- joice to see it so. ' I could, would I now put forth my might, cause that forthwith he should leave you and depart ; but I have it in my heart so to deal with him, as that the justice of the war that I shall make upon him may be seen and acknowledged by all. lie hath taken Mansoul by fraud, and keeps it by violence and deceit; and I will make him bare and naked in the eyes of all observer-. All my words are true, 1 am mighty to save, and will deliver my Mansoul out of Ins hand.' This speech was intended chiefly for Mansoul, but Mansoul would not have the hearing of it. 1 This reference to Is. liii. 12 must not be misunderstood by our youthful readers. It does not mean that Emmanuel would divide the spoil with Diabolus, but that he would take it all from hi in, and divide it at his (Emmanuel's) pleasure.— (Ed.) - Here Emmanuel discovers the true character of Satan — a liar, a deceiver, a blasphemer, an usurper, the malicii of God and man. Emmanuel claims the human soul as his own, his workman-hip, his delight, his inheritance, In- pur- chase. How well docs this gracious address deserve the mo.-t cordial acceptation! — (Border.) VOL. J J I. They shut up Eargate, thej barricaded it up, they kept it lucked and bolted J thev BC( a guard thereat, and commanded that no Mansoulonian should go out tu him, nor that any from the eamp should be admitted into the. town ; all this tln-v did, so horribly bad Diabolus enchanted them to do, and seek to do for him, against their rightful Lord and l'tinee ; win rcfore no man, nor voice, tmr sound of man that belonged to the gluriou- was to come into the town.8 [Chapteb VII. I ' is: - -Emmanuel prepares to make war upon x! — Diaboku sendi Mr. Loth-to-stoop with proposals for propoa ill being dishonourable to Emmanni !. are all rejected — Again Diabolus proposes to patch up ;i peace by reformation, offering to become Emmanuel's deputy in that, business — This proposal also raja New preparations n to be obliged to abandon the town, does much mi — Eargate, violently assaulted by the bai' ih gives way, and is broken to pieces— -ftniaannd's forces enter the town, and take possession of the Eb t house — Several mischievous Diabokmiaos are killed. j So when Emmanuel saw that Mansoul was thus involved in sin, be calls bis army to- r..„m:muei pr(. gether, since now also his words were despised, and gave out a command- 5,ul- ment throughout all his host to be ready a»ainst the time appointed. Now, forasmuch as there was no way lawfully to take the town of Mansoul, but to get in by the gates, and at Eargate as the chief, therefore he commanded his captains and commanders to bring their rams, their slinks, and their men, and place them at Eyegate and Ear- gate, in order to his taking the town. When Emmanuel had put all things in readiness to give Diabolus battle, be sent again to know of the town of Mansoul if in peaceable manner they would yield themselves, or whether tliev \\. r resolved to put him to try the utmost extremity. Then they together, with Diabolus ^.^ ^ their king, called a council ot war, bj I ... , . cii his servant, and resolved upon certain propositions Mr. that should be offered to Emmanuel. if he will accept thereof, so they agreed; ■ iiiii " i: and then the next was Who should be sent on this errand. Now there was in the town of Mansoul an old man, a Diaboloniau, and his name was Mr. Loth-to-stoop, a stiff man in bis way. and a great doer \'^r Diabolus; him therc- 3 Infatuated sinners! rejecting th< counsel themselves. Reader, is this tl Remember ' feith cometh by hearing.' Hear, soul shall live.— (B 4 These terms may be found ; '■ ':'■ No. in. - to reform 'mv virions life; a day, and - life.'— (En.) 31 290 THE HOLY WAR. fore they sent, and put into his mouth what he should say. So he went, and carue to the camp to Emmanuel ; and when he was come, a time was appointed to give him audience. So at the time lie came, and after a Diabolonian ceremony or two, he thus began, and said, ' Great Sir, that it may be known unto all men how good-natured a prince my master is, he hath sent me to tell your Lord- ship that he is very willing, rather than to go to 1 war, to deliver up into your hands one-half of the town of Mansoul. Tit. i. 16. I am therefore to know if your Mightiness will accept of this proposition.' Then said Emmanuel, 'The whole is mine by gift and purchase, wherefore I will never lose one-half.' Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, ' Sir, my master hath said, that he will be content that you shall be the nominal and titular Lord of all, if he may possess but a part.' Lu. xiiL 25. Then Emmanuel answered, 'The whole is mine really; not in name and word only: wherefore I will be the sole Lord and possessor of all, or of none at all of Mansoul.' Then Mr. Loth-to-stoop said again, • Sir, be- hold the condescension of my master ! He says that he will be content, if he may but have assigned to him some place in Man- soul as a place to live privately in, and you shall be Lord of all the rest.' Ac. v. i— ;. Then said the golden Prince, ' All that the Father giveth me, shall come to me ; and of all that he hath given me I will lose nothing, no, not a hoof, nor a hair. 1 will not therefore grant him, ii", not the least corner in Mansoul to dwell in, I will have all to myself.' Then Loth-to-stoop said again, ' But, Sir, sup- ,. , u. Pose tnat my l01"d should resign the Mark this. l , , J , . , ° whole town to you, only with this pro- viso, that he sometimes, when he comes into this country, may, for old acquaintance sake, be enter- tained as a way-faring man for two days, or fen days, or a month, or so ; may not this small matter be granted? ' Then said Emmanuel, ' No: he came as a way- faring man to David, nor did he stay long with him, and yet it had like to have cost David his soul. 3 sa. xii. 1-& I will not consent that he ever should have any harbour more there.' Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, ' Sir, yon seem to be very hard. Suppose my master should yield to all that your Lordship hath said, provided that his bn.s and caruui friends and kindred in Mansoul may [juta- have liberty to trade in the town, and 1 Mark this. A cold, lifeless jiroitssion, without possessing ('hrist, the hope of glory, is uot Christianity ; an almost Christian is a very infidel. We cannot serve two masters, God ;ind Mammon. Jesus is worthy of all our Jove and service; in him are treasured np every needful blessing for time and eternity. — (Mason.) to enjoy their present dwellings; may not that be granted, Sir ? ' Then said Emmanuel. ' Xo: that is contrary to my Father's will ; for all, and all maimer of Dia- bolonians that now are, or that at any time shall be found in Mansoul, shall not only lose their lands and liberties, but also their lives.' Eo. vi 13. Oa. v. 24. Col. iii. 5. Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop again, ' But, Sir, may not my master, and great lord, , V < XJ t ° ••,. Mark this. by letters, by passengers, by accidental opportunities, and the like, maintain, if he shall deliver up all unto thee, some kind of old friend- ship with Mansoul.' Jn. s. s. Emmanuel answered, 'Xo, by no means ; foras- much as any such fellowship, friendship, intimacy, or acquaintance in what way, sort or mode soever maintained, will tend to the corrupting of Mansoul, the alienating of their affections from me, and the endangering of their peace with my Father.' Mr. Loth-to-stoop yet added further ; saying, ' But, great Sir, since my master hath ?. , , . J , , Mark this. many friends, and those that are dear to him in Mansoul, may he not, if he shall depart from them, even of his bounty and good nature, bestow upon them, as he sees fit, some tokens of his love and kindness, that he had for them, to the end that Mansoul, when he is gone, may look upon such tokens of kindness once received from their old friend, and remember him who was once their King, and the merry times that they some- times enjoyed one with another, while he and they lived in peace together.' Then said Emmanuel, 'Xo ; for if Mansoul como to be mine, I shall not admit of, nor consent that there should be the least scrap, shred, or dust of Diabolus left behind, as tokens or gifts bestowed upon any in Mansoul, thereby to call to remem- brance the horrible communion that was betwixt them and him.' Ro. vi 12, 13. 'Well Sir,' said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, 'I have one thing more to propound, and then 1 am got to the end of my commission. Suppose that . J . j ivf Mark this. when my master is gone from Man- soul, any that yet shall live in the town should have such business of high concerns to do, that if they be neglected the party shall be undone ; and suppose, Sir, that nobody can help in that case so well as my master and lord ; may not now my master be sent for upon so urgent an occasion as this ? Or if he may not be admitted into the town, may not he and the person concerned meet in some of the villages near Mansoul, and there lay their heads together, and there consult of matters ? '2 2 Ki. i. 3, 6, 7. 2 The proud heart of man is loth to stoop to that absolute submission ami entire obedience to Christ which he justly re- quires. They will allow him to be a lord in name, but not in THE HOLY WVR. 291 Tliis was the last of tin m ensnaring propositions that Mr. Loth-to-etoop had tu propound to l"m- roanuel on behalf of his master Diabolus ; but Emmanuel would not grant it, for he said, 'There can be no case, or thing, or matter, fall out in Mansoul, when thy master shall be gone, that may not be salved1 by my Father : besides, it will be a great disparagement to my Father's wisdom and skill to admit an) from Mansoul to go out to Dia- bolus for advice, when they arc bid before, in evi ry« thing, by prayer and supplication, to let their re- quest be made known to my Father. I 3*. nrlli 15; •-' Ki. i. ■.', :;. Further, this, should it be granted, would be to grant that a door should he set open for 1'iabolus and the Diabolonians in Mansoul, to hatch, and plot, and bring to pass treasonable designs, to the grief of my Father and me, and to the utter destruction of Mansoul. '- When Mr. Loth-to-stoop bad beard this answer, Lolh-to-stoop ne to°k 1> is leave of Emmanuel and departs. departed, saying, that be would do wend to bis master concerning this whole affair. So be departed and came to Diabolus to Mansoul, and told him the whole of the matter, and bow Emmanuel would not admit, no, not by any means, that be, when be was once gone out, should for ever have anything more to do, eitber in, or with any that are of, the town of Mansoul. When Mansoul and Diabolus bad beard tins relation of tilings, they with one consent concluded to use their best endeavour to keep Emmanuel out of Mansoul, and sent old Illpause, of whom you have heard before, to tell the Prince and bis captains so. So the old gentleman came up to the top of Ear- gate, and called to the camp for a bearing ; who, , ,«,„ when they gave audience, be said, A. speech of Old T , J. t . ' Illpause to the ' I have in commandment irom my high Lord to bid you to tell it to your Prince Emmanuel, that Mansoul and their King- are resolved to stand and fall together, and that it is in vain for your Prince to think of ever having of Mansoul in his band, unless be can take it by force.' So some went and told to Emmanuel what old Illpause, a Diabolonian in Mansoul, had said. Then said the Prince, 'I must try the power of my tword, for I will not, for all the rebellions and re- pulses that Mansoul lias made against me, raise my siege and depart, but will assuredly take my Mansoul, and deliver it from the hand of her enemy. ' Ep. vi n. And with that be gave out a command- ment that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, authority. They would serve Jesus in general, if permitted to indulge in sin occasionally; -II such partial submission is rejected." To be only 'almost a Christian' is to be no Chris- tian at all. To show the importance of this, the author re- peatedly gives a marginal note, '.Murk this.' — (Burder.) ' The word 'salved,' as used in Bunyau's time, means helped, remedied, saved, healed, rescued. Thus, in his Come and if'elcome, he says, ' Such questions would have been, I Thcymmtfyht. Judgment, and Captain Execution, should forthwith march up to Eargate with trumpets Bounding, colours flying, and with shouting for the battle. Abo he would that Captain Credence should join himself with them. Emmanuel, moreover, gave order that Captain Goodhope ami Captain Charity should draw themselves up before Eyegate. He bid also that the rest of his Captains, and their nun, should plan- themselves for the Inst of their advantage against the enemy, round about the town, ami all was dune as he had commanded. Then he bid that the word should he given forth, and the word was at that time 'Emmanuel'. Then was an alarm sounded, and the battering-raftu played, and the slings did whirl stones into the town amain, and thus the halt!.' began. NoW Diabolus himself did manage the townsmen in the war, and that at every gate ; wherefore their I ance was the more forcible, hellish, and offensive to Emmanuel. Thus was the good Prince BO and entertained by Diabolus s d Bfansoul f< r several days together. And a Bight worth it was, to behold bow the captains of Shaddai be- haved themselves in this war. And first for Captain Boanerges, not to under- value the rest, be made three most fierce assaults, one after another, upon *■ """■ Eargate, to the shaking of the posts thereof. Captain Conviction, lie also nun',' up a- fist with Boanerges as possibly be could, and both discern- ing that the gate began to yield, they commanded that the rams should still be played against it. Now Captain Conviction going up very near to the gate, was with great force driven 0mtUttm back, and received three wounds in the *< mouth. And those that rode Refor- rnades, they went about to ene the captain-. For the valour of the two captains made mention of before, the Prince sent for them t i his pavilion, and commanded that a while they should rest theni- . and that with somewhat they should be refreshed. Care also was taken for Captain Con- viction, that he should be healed of his wound-. The Prince also gave to each of them a chain of gold, and hid them yet be of g Nor did Captain Goodhope nor Captain Goodimpc ami Charity come behind in this most ,t|1',' desperate fight, for they so well did behave themselves at Eyegal babbles about, instead of a sufficient s.' tion.' Now, the word wived would I - Reader, 'mark' these proposals of Loth-to- uncouverted cherUh this evi] spirit ; call to n i the time when you felt its infill '' &'■'» ; Christ; nor would you ever ! j your love of sill, bu't tl Spirit conquer. . . his love and mercy.- I 292 THE HOLY WATL almost broken it quite open.1 These also had a reward from their Prince, as also had the rest of the captains, because they did valiantly round about tho town.2 In this engagement several of the officers of Diabolus were slain, and some of the townsmen wounded. For the officers, there was one Captain Captain Boast- Boasting slain. This Boasting thought iug slam. t],at nobody could have shaken the posts of Eargate, nor have shaken the heart of Diaholus. Next to him there was one Captain Captain Secure Secure slain ; this Secure used to say slain. that the blind and lame in Mansoul wore able to keep the gates of the town against Emmanuel's army. 2Sa. v. 6. This Captain Secure did Captain Conviction cleave down the head with a two-handed sword, when he received himself three wounds in his mouth. Besides these, there Captain RraS- was one Captain Bragman, a very des- man slam. perate fellow, and he was captain over a band of those that threw fire-brands, arrows, and death ; he also received, by the hand of Captain Goodhope at Eyegate, a mortal wound in the breast. There was, moreover, one Mr. Feeling, but he was no captain, but a great stickler to encourage Mr. Feeling Mansoul to rebellion, he received a hurt. wound in the eye by the hand of one of Boanerges' soldiers, and had by the captain himself been slain, but that he made a sudden retreat. But I never saw Will-be-will so daunted in all my life : he was not able to do as he was wont ; Wiii-be-wiii a"d some say that he also received a nut. wound in the leg, and that some of the men in the Prince's army have certainly seen him limp, as he afterwards walked on the wall.3 I shall not give you a particular account of the names of the soldiers that were slain in the town, Many of the sol- ^or many were maimed and wounded, diers in Muu- and slain ; for when they saw that the posts of Eargate did shake, and Eyegate was well nigh broken quite open ; and also that their captains were slain, this took away the hearts of many of the Diabolonians ; they fell also by the force of the shot that were sent by 1 'The serpents that bit the people of old were types of guilt and sin. Now these were fiery serpents, and such as, I think, could fly. Is. xiv. 29. Wherefore, in my judgment, they stung the people about their faces, and so swelled up their eyes, which made it the more difficult for them to look up to the brazen serpent, which was the type of Christ.' Jn. iii 14. — (Bun van ou Justification, vol. i. p. 320.) How fitly are Goodhope and Charity qualified to gain such a post. — (Ed.) 2 It is worthy of notid', that, while warnings and convictions attack the ear, hope and love are exhibited to the eye. This was Bunyan's mode of proclaiming the gospel, and it is well worthy of universal imitation by preachers of all denomina- tions.— (Ed.) 3 The will may be called the feet of the soul ; because by the golden slings into the midst of the town of Mansoul.4 Of the townsmen there was one Love-no-good, he was a townsman, but a Diabolonian, Love-no-good he also received his mortal wound in w°unded. Mansoul, but he died not very soon. Mr. Illpause also, who was the man that came along with Dia- bolus when at first he attempted the taking of Mansoul, he also received a grievous nipanse wouod in the head, some say that his wounded, brain-pan was cracked ; this I have taken notice of, that he was never after this able to do that mischief to Mansoul as he had done in times past. Also old Prejudice and Mr. Anything fled.5 Now when the battle was over, the Prince com- manded that yet once more the white The white flag flag should be set upon Mount Gra- huD? out asain' cious, in sight of the town of Mansoul ; to show that yet Emmanuel had grace for the wretched town of Mansoul. When Diabolus saw the white flag hanging out again, and knowing that it was not Diabolus's new for him, but Mansoul, he cast in his prauk< mind to play another prank, to wit, to see if Emmanuel would raise his siege and be gone, upon promise of a reformation.8 So he comes down to the gate one evening, a good while after the sun was gone down, and calls to speak with Emmanuel, who presently came down to the gate, and Diabolus saith unto him : • Forasmuch as thou makest it appear by thy white flag, that thou art wholly given nis speech to to peace and quiet ; I thought meet Emmanuel. to acquaint thee that we are ready to accept thereof upon terms which thou mayest admit. ' I know that thou art given to devotion, and that holiness pleases thee ; yea, that thy great end in making a war upon Mansoul is that it may be an holy habitation. Well, draw off thy forces from the town, and I will bend Mansoul to thy bow. ' [Thus] I will lay down all acts of hostility against thee, and will be willing to Diabolus would become thy deputy, and will, as I have beEnmiannei's J *■ •>. deputy, and he formerly been against thee, now serve would turn thee in the town of Mansoul. And retonuer' more particularly — 1. I will persuade Mansoul to that the soul, yea, the whole man, is carried hither and thither, or else held back, and kept from moving. While my Lord Will-be-will was so active iu the service of Diabolus, he is, very properly, ' wounded iu the leg.' — (Ed.) 1 Portions of the Word, probably from the sacred epistles of the New Testament. — (Ed.) 6 Prejudice and Anything have fled ; Illpause has his brain- pan cracked — there can be no more procrastination ; Love-no- good is slain — the will is wounded ; the feeling is painfully wounded ; Bragman and cr.rual security are slain ; Mansoul troubles ; and in great mercy the white flag is hung out iu token of grace, but the heart does not yet surrender. — (Ed.) ti This is exemplified by Bunyan's experience, iu Grace Abounding, Nos. 30-36. THE HOLY WAR. 2'.):} receive thee for their Lord, and I know that they will do it the Booner when they shall understand that I am thy deputy. -. I will show them where- in they have erred, and that transgression stands in the way to life. •">. I will show them tho holy law unto which tluy must conform, even that which they have broken. 4. I \\ill press upon them the necessity of a reformation according to thy law. 5. And, moreover, thai none of these things may fail, I myself, at my own proper cost and charge, will set up and maintain a sufficient ministry, he- sides lecturers, in Mansoul.1 • >. Thou Bhalt receive, as a token of our subjection to thee continually, year by year, what thou Bhalt think tit to lay and levy upon us, in token of our subjection to thee.'8 Then said Emmanuel to him, ' 0 full of deceit, how movable are thy ways ! How often hast thou changed and re- changed, if so be thou mightest still keep possession of my Mansonl, though, as has been plainly de- clared before, I am the right heir thereof? Often hast thou made thy proposals already, nor is this last a whit better than they. And failing to deceive when thou showedst thyself in thy black, thou hast now transformed thyself into an angel of light, and wouldest, to deceive, be now as a minister of righ- teousness. 2 Co. xi. 14. ' But know thou, 0 Diabolus, that nothing must be regarded that thou canst propound, for nothing Diabolus has no is done by thee but to deceive ; thou eXnorVe "either hast conscience to God, nor to liansoui. iove to tiie town 0f Mansoul ; whence then should these thy sayings arise, but from sinful craft and deceit ? He that can of list and will propound what he pleases, and that wherewith he may destroy them that believe him, is to be aban- doned with all that he shall say. But if righteous- ness be such a beauty-spot in thine eyes now, how is it that wickedness was so closely stuck to by thee before. But this is by the by. Thou talkest now of a reformation in Mansoul, and that thou thyself, if I will please, will be at the head of that reformation, all the while knowing that the greatest proficiency that man can make in the law, and the righteousness thereof, will amount to no more for the taking away of the curse from Man- soul than just nothing at all ; for a law being broken by Mansoul, that had before, upon a suppo- sition of the breach thereof, a curse pronounced against him for it of God, can never, by his obey- ing of the law, deliver himself therefrom. To say nothing of wdiat a reformation is like to be set up 1 Reader, the devil offers to sit up ministers and lecturers ! Take heed what ye hear. — (Kb.; 2 How common is it with sinners, under conviction and the fear of hell, to be content with mending theix lives; they are willing to he reformed, but not to be justified and saved by grace. — (Border.) in Mansonl, when tin? devil is become the cor;. of rice. Thou knoweat that all that thou hast now said in this matter is ,; rtwilldoao nothing hut guile and deceit ; and is, as it was the fir ;. - is it the last card GSh that thou hast to play. Many there "oul" ho that do soon discern thee when th them thy cloven foot; hut in thy white, thy light, and in thy transformation thou art seen hat of But thou shalt not do thus with my Mansoul, <> Diabolus, for I do still love my Man-mil. 'Besides, I am not come to put M works to live thereby — Bhould I do bo, I should I" like unto thee — but I am come that by me, and by what I have and shall do for Mansoul, they mav t<> my Father he reconciled, though by their sin they have provoked him to anger, and though by tie. law they cannot obtain mi 'Thou talkest of subjecting of this town to good, when none desireth it at thy hands, mthfc I am sent by mv Father to possess it l"- < ii* i • i ■ i i ,-i^i Mansoul. myself, and to guide it hy the skilful- ness of my hands into such a conformity to him as shall be pleasing in his sight, 1 will therefore possess it myself, I will dispossess and cast 1 1 m ■ ■ out: I will set up mine own standard in the midst of them : I will also govern them by new laws, new officers, new motives, and new ways. Yea, I will pull down this town, and build it again, and it shall be as though it bad not been, and it shall then b the glory of the whole universe.'8 When Diabolus heard this, and perceived that he was discovered in all his deceits, i /-,.„.. con- he was confounded and utterly put found.. i. to a non-plus; but having in himself the foun- tain of iniquity, rage and malice against both Shaddai and his Son, and the beloved town of Mansoul, what doth he hut strengthen himself what he could, to give fresh battle to the noble Prince Emmanuel? So then, now we must have another fight before the town of Mansoul is taken, up then to the mountains you that love to see mili- tary actions, and behold hy both sides how the fatal hlow is given: while one seeks to hold, and the other seeks to make himself master of the famous town of Mansoul. Diabolus, therefore, having withdrawn himself from the wall to his force that was in >,-,.»• the heart of the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel also returned to the camp; and b them, after their divers ways, put th< I a posture fit to bid battle one to another. 3 What a volume of evangelical In Lfa words! Old things must paaa away, all most we must be buried with Christ in ba] I ■ in aim the hope of glory. We musl ' his righti '••ill love constrain him I In Christ he becomes the 294 THE HOLY WAR. Diabolus, as filled with despair of retaining in DiaMua dcs- his hands the famous town of Mansoul, pain of holding rcsolved to do what mischief he could, ' Mansoul is won,' so they made joined, ami their assault upon the town. Diabolus totn '' .-ides also, as fast as he could with the main fiercely. ()f ^jg power, made resistance from within, and his high lords and chief captains for a time fought very cruelly against the Prince's army. But after three or four notable charges by the broken Prince, and his noble captains, Ear- open. gate was ]jroken open, and the bars and bolts wherewith it was used to be fast shut up against the Prince, were broken into a thousand pieces. Then did the Prince's trumpets sound, the captains shout, the town shake, and Diabolus retreat to his hold. Well, when the Prince's forces had broken open the gate, himself came up and did set his throne in it; also he set his stand- ard thereby, upon a mount, that before The Prince's , , • , , ftandard set by Ins men was cast up to place the sim.'sa"d are eighty slings thereon.- The mount li^castie'11 at was callcd M°unt Dearwell ; there, therefore, the Prince abode, to wit, hard by the going in at the gate. He commanded also that the golden slings should yet be played upon the town, especially against the castle, because for shelter thither was Diabolus retreated. Now from Eargate the street was strait, even to the house of Mr. Recorder that so was before Diabolus took the town, and hard by his house stood the castle, which Diabolus for a long time had made his irk- some den. The captains, therefore, did quickly clear that street by the use of their slings, so that way was made up to the heart of the town. Then did the Prince command that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, and Captain Judgment should forthwith march up -the town to the * Conscience. old gentleman's* gate. Then did the gKK captains in most warlike manner enter ,,ouse- into the town of Mansoul, and marching in with flying colours, they came up to the Recorder's house, and that was almost as strong as was the castle. Battering rams they took also with them, to plant against the castle-gates. When they were come to the house of Mr. Conscience, they knocked and demanded entrance. Now the old gentleman, not knowing as yet fully their design, kept his gates shut all the time of this fight. Wherefore Boanerges demanded entrance at his They demand gates, and no man making answer, he entrance. gave it one stroke with the head of a ram, and this made the old gentleman shake, and his house to tremble and totter. Then came Mr. Recorder down to the gate, and, as he could, with quiver- ing lips, he asked who was there. Boanerges answered, We are the captains and commanders of the great Shaddai, and of the blessed Emmanuel his Son, and we demand possession of your house for the use of our noble Prince. And with that the battering-ram gave the gate another shake; this made the old gentleman tremble the more, yet durst he not but open the gate. Then the King's forces marched in, namely, the three brave captains mentioned before. Now the Recorder's house was a place of much con- venience for Emmanuel, not only because it was near to the castle, and strong, but also because it was large, and fronted the castle, the den where now Diabolus was : for he was now afraid to come out of his hold. As for Mr. Recorder, They do keep the captains carried it very reservedly ^"ed^^rom to him ; as yet he knew nothing of tiie Recorder. the great designs of Emmanuel ; so that he did not know what judgment to make, nor what would be the end of such thundering beginnings. It was They go in. 1 When Satan can no longer keep his dominion over the soul, lie will endeavour to ruin it by temptations to despair, ot- to some abominable vices; as the poor trembling creature in the gospel, desirous of approaching Christ, 'as he was yet a Cuming, the devil threw him down and tare him.' Lu. ix. 42. — (.Btu-der.) 2 Thus was the promise fulfilled, * In that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book,' Is. xxix. IS; and, 'The cars of the deaf shall be unstopped/ xxxv. 5. What a blessing to be able to say, ' Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.' The way is strait from Largate to Conscience, the house of the Recorder, and to the Heart, the castle. ' He that hath ears to hear, let | him hear.' May God bestow ' the hearing ear ' upon every l reader. — (liurder.) THE HOLY WAR 295 also presently noised in the town, how the Recor- der's house was possessed, his rooms taken up, and His house the n's palace made tin: seat of the war; seat of war. ;Ullj tto sooner was it noised abroad, hut they took the alarm as warmly, and gave it out to others of his friends, and you know as a snow-hall loses nothing by rolling, so in little time the whole town was possessed that they must expect nothing from the Prince but destruction ; and the ground ot* the business was this. The Recorder was afraid, the Recorder trembled, and the captains carried it strangely to the Recorder, SO many came to see; hut when they with their own eyes did behold the captains in the palace, and their battering rams ever playing at the castle- gates to heat them down, they were riveted in Theofflceofton- their fears» aml !t made thom lls '" science when amaze. And, as I said, the man of lie is awakened. , . ... ,, . . the house would increase all this, tor whoever came to him, or discoursed with him, no- thing would he talk of, tell them, or hear, hut that death and destruction now attended Mansoul.1 'For,' quoth the old gentleman, ' ycu are all of you sensible that we all have been traitors to that once despised, hut now famously victorious and glorious Prince Emmanuel, For he now, as you see, doth not only lie in close siege about us, but hath forced Ins entrance in at our gates ; more- over, Diabolus flees before him, and he hath, as you behold, made of my house a garrison against the castle, where he is. I, for my part, have trans- gressed greatly, and he that is clean it is well for him. But, I say, I have transgressed greatly in keeping of silence when I should have spoken, and in perverting of justice when I should have exe- cuted the same. True, I have suffered something at the hand of Diabolus, tor taking part with the laws of King Shaddai ; but that, alas! what will that do? Will that make compensation for the rehellions and treasons that 1 have done, and have suffered without gainsaying, to be committed in the town of Mansoul? 0, I tremble to think what will be the end of this so dreadful and so ireful a beginning!' Now, while tWse brave captains were thus busy in the house of the old Recorder, Captain Execu- tion was as busy in other parts of the The wave ex- . r . , * , ploita of Cap- town, in securing the back streets, tainExecution. ^ ^ wajj8 Hfl a,sy hunteJ the Lord WitUbe-will sorely; he suffered him not to 1 WJien the soul listens to the threateninga of the holy law, conscience fears and quakes; and till enlightened with the knowledge of the gospel, and the gracious designs of God, it can think and talk of nothing but 'death and destruction.' — (Burder.) See this part of the Holy War, in Bunyan's ex- perience, recorded in Grace Abounding, Noa. 84-88. — (En.) 2 Bunyan's relief from a state of intense ini?ery was by an assault on Eargate. It »as under a sermon upon I line — 'Thou art lair. D y love ;' then was old Prejudice slain, | Tr.:u. In I rest in any corner. lie pursued him so hard, that he drove his men from him, and made him glad to thrust his head into a hole. Also, this mighty warrior did cut three of the Lord Will-be-wilTs officers down to the ground j one was ou 1.l,JIHiltl. old Mr. Prejudice, he that had his crown cracked in the mutiny; this man was made by Lord Will-he-will keeper of Margate, and fell by the band of Captain Execution. There was also one Mr. Backward- to- all- but- , ill ,i Backward, to- naught, and lie also was one ot Lord all-bnt-naugut Will-be-wiU's officers, and was the "*""• captain of the two guns that once were mounted on the top of Bargate, be also was cut down to the ground by the hands of Captain Execution. Besides these two there was another, a third, and his name was Captain Treacherous, a vile man this was, but one that Will-be-will did put a great deal of confidence in; but him also did, this Captain Execution CUt down to the ground with the rest." Ile also made a very great slaughter among my Lord Will-bc-will's soldiers, killing many that were stout and sturdy, and wounding of many that for Diabolus were nimble and active. But all these were Diabolonians ; there was not a man, a native of Mansoul, hurt.* Other feats of war were also likewise performed by other of the captains, as at Eyegate,4 where Captain Goodhope and Captain Charity had a charge, was great execution done ; for the Captain Goodhope, with his own hands, slew Captain Good- one Captain Blindfold, the keeper of SSbiS that gate; this Blindfold was captain ,oM- of a thousand men, and they were they that fought with mauls; he also pursued his men, slew many, and wounded more, and made the rest hide their heads in corners. There was also at that gate Mr. Illpau whom you have heard before; he was an old man, and had a beard that reached down to his girdle: the same was he that was orator to Diabolus; he did much mischief in *"* "M lllpuU*;- the town of Mansoul, and fell by the hand of Captain Goodhope. What shall I say, the Diabolonians in these days lay dead in every corner, though too many yet were alive in Mansoul. ' and his officers; although other rears afterwards terrified him, yet Prejudice was slain. Head tin- narrative in Grace A ing, No-. b'J-'.»2.— (Ed.) ■ No faculty or power >>f the sonl can be injured by a death unto sin and a lite unto holm,--. Peace > I hap] crease as we live near to God! My young friends, if Satan tells you that religion is a dull or melancholy thin,', call to mind the happiness, nay, ecstacies of Paul and David when living under its holy influences. — (Ed.) ' sei Gi ■ Abounding, No. 113. — (Ed.) 'Conversion proceeds. The carnal will !>;.-: , ••■-•■ pr . jndice is slain; Arersio 2l?G THE HOLY WAR. [CHAPfEIl VIII.] [CONTENTS: — The principal inhabitants hold a conference, and agree to petition the Prince for their lives — The castle Lratcs broken open — Emmanuel marches into Mansoul — Diabolus is made prisoner, and bound in chains — The in- habitants, greatly distressed, petition again and again — At length a free pardon is obtained, and universal joy succeeds.] Now the old Recorder, and my Lord Understand- ing, with some others of the chief of the The old towns- ° . , . men meet aud town, to wit, such as knew they must consult- stand and fall with the famous town <>f Mansoul, came together upon a day, and after consultation had, did jointly agree to draw up a petition, and to send it to Emmanuel, now while The town does he sat in the gate of Mansoul. So they petition, and jrew un their petition to Emmanuel, are answered ^ r with silence, the contents whereof were this, That they, the old inhabitants of the now deplorable town of Mansoul, confessed their sin, and were sorry that they had offended his princely Majesty, and prayed that he would spare their lives.1 Upon this petition he gave no answer at all, and that did trouble them yet so much the more. Now all this while the captains that were in the Recorder's house were playing with the battering- rams at the gates of the castle, to beat them down. So after some time, labour, and travail, the gate The castle gates °f the castle that was called Impreg- inoke open. nable was beaten open, and broken into several splinters ; and so a way made to go up to the hold in which Diabolus had hid himself.2 Then was tidings sent down to Eargate, for Emmanuel still abode there, to let him know that a way was made in at the gates of the castle of Mansoul. But 0 ! how the trumpets at the tidings sounded throughout the Prince's camp, for that now the war was so near an end, and Mansoul itself of being set free.3 Then the Prince arose from the place where he Emmanuel was» ana< to°k with him such of his marches into men of war as were fittest for that Mmisoul. expedition, and marched up the street of Mansoul to the old Recorder's house. Now the Prince himself was clad all in armour ■ if gold, and so he marched up the town with his standard borne before him ; but he kept his coun- tenance much reserved all the way as he went, so that the people could not tell how to gather to that most dangerous foe to the soul, old lllpause, with his traditions, antiquity and longbeard, are slain. All these were Diaboloniaus, not one native power of the soul was injured. — (Burder.) J ' Behold he prayeth.' Prayer is the first sign of spiritual life; Emmanuel was in Mansoul; the answer may be deferred, but praying breath was never spent in vain. — (Ed.) -' W hen the conscience is alarmed, and sends its battering- rams against the heart or affections, the castle, and so the whole soul, will be quickly reduced, uud fall into the arms of Divine mercy. — (Ed.) themselves love or hatred by his looks. Now as he marched up the street, the townsfolk came out at every door to see, and could not but be taken with his person, and the glory thereof, but wondered at the reservedness of his countenance ; for as yet he spake more to them by his actions and works, than he did by words or smiles. But also poor Mansoul, as in such cases all are apt to do, they interpreted the carriages of Emmanuel i tit i » i i i • How they lnter- to them, as did Joseph s brethren his pret fcuimaim- to them, even all the quite contrary e1'3 carriases- way. For, thought they, if Emmanuel loved us, he would show it to us by word or carriage ; but none of these he doth, therefore Emmanuel hates us. Now if Emmanuel hates us, then Mansoul shall be slain, then Mansoul shall become a dung- hill. They knew that they had transgressed his Father's law, and that against him they had been in with Diabolus his enemy. They also knew that the Prince Emmanuel knew all this ; for they were convinced that he was as an Angel of God, to know all things that are done in the earth. And this made them think that their condition was miserable, aud that the good Prince would make them desolate. And, thought they, what time so fit to do this in as now, when he has the bridle of Mansoul in his hand. And this I took special notice of, that the inhabitants, notwithstanding all this, could not ; no, they could not, when they see him march through the town, but cringe, bow, bend, and were ready to lick the dust of his feet. They also wished a thousand times over, that he would be- come their Prince and Captain, and would be- come their protection. They would also one to another talk of the comeliness of his person, and how much for glory and valour he outstript the great ones of the world. But, poor hearts, as to themselves their thoughts would change, and go upon all manner of extremes ; yea, through the working of them backward and forward, Mansoul became as a ball tossed, and as a rolling thing be- fore the whirlwind.4 is. xviL 13 ; xxii. 18. Now when he was come to the castle gates, he commanded Diabolus to appear, and He comes up to to surrender himself into his hands, the castle, and n s\ i i ii ii commands Dia- but 0 ! how loth was the beast to bolus to sur- appear! How he stuck at it! how reuderhiraseif- he shrunk! aye, how he cringed! Yet out he came to the prince. Then Emmanuel commanded, and they took Diabolus and bound him fast in 3 There is joy in heaven over the repenting sinner. The heart, which was deemed impregnable, is taken by invincible grace. — (Burder.) 4 Bunyan was for seven or eight weeks in this painful state. Peace in and out twenty times a day; comfort now, and trouble presently ; peace now, and before I could go a furlong as full of fear and guilt as ever heart could hold. — Grace Abounding, No. 205— (En.) THE HOLY WAR. 21)7 >r his enemy stripping, th. chains, the better to reserve Lira to the judgment that he had appointed fur him. But Diaholua stood up to entreat for himself, that Emmanuel would not send him into the deep, but suffer him t.p depart cut of Mansoul in peace. When Emmanuel had taken him and hound him ., . in chains, he led him into the market- He la taken mmi bouud iu place, anil there, before Mansoul, stripped him of his armour iu which he "boasted so much before. This qow was one of the acts of triumph of Emmanuel ov and all the while that the pant was trumpets of the golden Prince did sound amain; the captains also shouted, and the soldiers did sing for joy. Then was Mansoul called upon t<> Manaoni must behold the begiuning of Emmanuel's beliuld it. triumph over him iu whom they BO much had trusted, and of whom they so much had boasted in the days when he flattered them. Thus having made Diabolus naked in the eve, if Mansoul, and before the commanders of the ,, Prince, in the next place he commands lie is bound '. *1 . to his chariot that Diabolus should he bound with chains to bis chariot-wheels. Then leaving of some of his forces, to wit, Captain Boanerges, and Captain Conviction, as a guard for the castle gates, that resistance might he made on bis behalf, if any that heretofore followed Tlie Prince riii.-s Diabolus should make an attempt to lumTufe's^ia Possess 't. lie did »de in triumph over ■ it Mimsoui. him quite through the town of Man- soul, and so out at, and before the gate called Eyegate, to the plain where bis camp did lie. Bp. iv. But you cannot think unless you bad been there, us I was. what a shout there was in Emmanuel's camp when they saw the tyrant hound by the band of their noble Prince, and tied to bis chariot- wheels! And they said. He hath led captivity captive ; he bath spoiled principalities and power-: Diabolus is subjected to the power of his sword, and made the object of all derision ! ' Those also that rode Reformades, and that came The Refoimadcs- down to see the battle, they shouted J"-- with that greatness of voice, and sung with such melodious notes, that they caused them that dwell in the highest orbs to open their win- dows, put out their beads, and look down to see the cause of that glory. Lu. r?. 7— io.'- The townsmen also, so rnanv of them a They 1 At our Lord's ascension, when lie triumphed over all the force of death and hell, obtained eternal redemption for in, aud received all power in heaven and earth for his el their number is accomplished. Then will be the everlasting triumph. — (Mason.) - By the Refomiades we are to understand the angel volun- teers, who desire to look into the wonders of salvation, aud who rejoice over every sinner who iiuds salvation iu Christ. It is here very strikingly and beautifully expressed.— (Ed.) VOL. III. hut all thinfi this sight, v were, while they I betwixt the earth and the heavens. Tru could not tell what would he the of things a, to them, were clone in Buch excellent methods and 1 cannol 1. 1! how, hut things in the mat incut of them seemed to cast a Bmile towards the town, so that their eyes, their heads, their heart-, and their minds, and all that they had, were taken and held, while they observed Emmanuel's order.' So v. Inn the brave Prince had finished this part of hi. triumph over Diabolus his toe, he turned him up in the midst of hi.- contempt and sham-, having giv< n him a charge no more to be if Mansoul, Then went he from Emmanuel, and out of the mid • amp to inherit the parched places in a salt land, seeking rest hut finding none. Mat ill i 1. Now Captain Boanerges and Captain Con were both of them men of very great majesty, tln-ir faces were like tic far.- of lions, [in di -. and their words like the roaring of the sea and they still quartered in .Mr. Conscience's of whom mention was made before. When there- fore the high and mighty Prince had thus far finished bis triumph over Diabolus, the townsmen had more leisure to view and to behold the action of these noble captains. But the captains carried it with that terror and dread in all - , ,, ,. , , , The carnage of that they did, and you may be sure Boam , that they had private instruct] to do, that thev kept the town under continual heart-aching, and caused, in their apprehension, the well-being of Mansoul for the future, to hang iu doubt before them, bo that, for some considerable time, thev neither knew what rest, or ease, or peace, or hope meant.1 Nor did the Prince himself, as vet, abide in the town of Mansoul, hut in his royal pavillion in the camp, and in the midst of his Father's I So at a time convenient, he sent Bpecial Old Captain Boanerges to summons Mansoul, the whole of the townsmen, into the ca-th-yard, and then and there, before their face?, to take my Lord Un- derstanding, Mr. Conscience, and that ii it i iiT-11 i ii i TliePrinrroini- notable one the Lord \\ ill-be-WJ I. and m , put them all tin they should set : them there, until his pleasure concern- ing them were further known. The which i when the captains had put them iu execution, made no small addition to th- f. an I f 'he I Mansoul ; for now, to their thinking, were their 3 Compare this, and tin' two following paragrapha, ■ Grace Aboundi,,*,, Nos. L89-192. — (J 0 4 Sin-sick soul, Christ is an aU-snfl follow his advice, and the Ho. vi. 3.— Mason.) trong guard U] Sfl •29S THE HOLY WAR. former fears of the ruin of Mansoul confirmed. Now, what death they should die, and how long they should he in dying, was that which most per- plexed their heads and hearts. Yea, they were afraid that Emmanuel would command them all into the deep, the place that the prince Diaholus was afraid of; for they knew that they had de- served it. Also to die hy the sword in the face of the town, and in the open way of disgrace, from the hand of so good and so holy a Prince, that, Mm.snui crrcatly too, trouhled them sore. The town distressed. ,vas ais0 greatly trouhled for the men that were committed to ward, for that they were their stay and their guide, and for that they be- lieve! that if those men were cut off, their execu- tion would he hut the beginning of the ruin of the town of Mansoul.1 Wherefore what do they, but , ^ rc. together with the men in prison, draw tition to Dm- Up a petition to the Prince, and sent niHiiuel, tiytlie .l L. , , , . , „ ,T t Mr. it to Emmanuel hy the hand or Mr. Wouldliw. Wouldlive. So he went and came to the Prince's quarters, and presented the petition; the sum of which was this: — ' Great and wonderful potentate, victor over Diaholus, and conqueror of the town of Mansoul, We, the miserable inhabitants of that most woful corporation, do humbly beg that we may find favour in thy sight, and remember not against us former transgressions, nor yet the sins of the chief of our town, but spare us according to the great- ness of thy mercy, and lef, us not die, but live in thy sight ; so shall we be willing to he thy serv- ants, and if thou shalt think fit, to gather our meat under thy table.2 Amen.' So the petitioner went as was said with his peti- tion to the Prince, and the Prince took it at his They arc an- nan(l, but sent him away with silence. i,K-e "'"' Tllis stiU afflictecl tlie town of Man- soul, but yet considering that now they must cither petition, or die — for now they could not do anything else — therefore they consulted again, and sent another petition, and this petition was much after the form and method of the former. But when the petition was drawn up, by whom should they send it was the next question; for fchey would not send this by him hy whom they Bent the first, for they thought that the Prince had taken some offence at the manner of bis deport- Thcy petition ment before him; so they attempted il- "" to make Captain Conviction their mes- senger with it, but he said that he neither durst, nor would petition Emmanuel for traitors; nor be 1 It is common with convinced sinners, before they obtain clear views of the gospel, to remain in tenor and alarm". They feel themselves condemned by the faithful preaching of the Word; but all will be well — will issue in fervent prayer and happy peace. — (Border.) - Neither the bearer of this petition, nor the prayer itself, can be acceptable. It is the language of those who have been to the Prince an advocate for rebels. Yet withal, said he, our Prince is good, and you TlieycaunotteI1 may adventure to send it by the hand by whom to of one of your town, provided he went with a rope about his bead, and pleaded nothing but mercy.3 Well, they made, through fear, their delays as long as they could, and longer than delays were good ; but fearing at last the dangerousness of them, they thought, but with many a fainting in their minds, to send their petition by Mr. Desires- awake ; so they sent for Mr. Desires-awake. Now he dwelt in a very mean cottage in Mansoul, and he came at his neighbours' request. So they told him what they bad done, and what they would do concerning petitioning, and that they did desire of him that he would go therewith to the Prince. Then said Mr. Desires-awake, why should not I do the best I can to save so famous Mr Desires- a town as Mansoul from deserved de- awake goes mi <» j T i Wltu t'ie peti- struction ; 1 hey therefore delivered tion to the the petition to him, and told him how imce" he must address himself to the Prince, and wished him ten thousand good speeds. So he comes to the Prince's pavilion, as the first, and asked to speak with his Majesty ; so word was carried to Emmanuel, and the Prince came out to the man. When Mr. Desires-awake saw the Prince, he fell flat with his face to the ground, and cried out, 0 that Mansoul might live before thee! and with that he presented the petition. The which when the Prince had read, he turned away for a while and wept, but, refraining himself, he turned His entertain- again to the man, who all this while ment lay crying at his feet as at the first, and said to him, Go thy way to thy place, and I will consider of thy requests. Now you may think that they of Mansoul that had sent him, what with guilt, and what with fear, lest their petition should be rejected, could not but look with many a long look, and that too with strange workings of heart, to see what would be- come of their petition. At last, they His return> a]id saw their messenger corning; back ; so, answer tothem , , ° , i -i i • that sent him. wlien he was come, they asked him how he fared, what Emmanuel said, and what was become of the petition. But he told them that he would be silent till he came to the prison to my Lord Mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Re- corder. So he went forwards towards the prison- house, where the men of Mansoul lay bound. But conquered by terror and power, and not by love; thus it ends with the words of Adonibezek, relative to the seventy kings that he had brought down to slavery. Ju. i. 7. — (fin.) 3 Heady and Highmind are long since slain — Mansoul feels her misery. As a condemned malefactor, expecting execution, what can she sue for but mercy ? ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' Tor the ropes about their heads, see 1 Xi. xx. 31. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. 299 0! what a multitude flocked after to hoar what the messenger said. So when ho was come and had shown himself at the grate of the prison, my Lord Mayor himself looked as white as a clout, the Recorder also did quake; but they and said, Come, good Sir, what did the great Prince say to you? Then Baid Mr. Desires-awake, when 1 came to my Lord's pavilion, 1 failed, and lie came forth; so 1 fell prostrate at his feet, and delivered to him my petition, for the greatness of his person, and the glory of his countenance would not sutler me to Btand upon m\ legs. Now as he received the petition, 1 cried, 0 that Mansoul might live before thee! So when for a while he had looked thereon, he turned him about ami Baid to his servant, Go thy way to thy place again, and 1 will consider of thy requests. The messenger added moreover, and said, The Prince to whom you sent me is sueh a one for beauty and glory, that whoso sees him must hoth love and fear him ; 1, for my part, can do no less; hut I know not what will he the end of these things.1 At this Mansoul con. ai)SW<^ they were all at a stand ; hoth founded at the they in prison, and they that followed answer. , i • i i i the messenger thither to hear the news; nor knew they what or what manner of in- terpretation to put upon what the Prince had said. Now, when the prison was cleared of the throng, the prisoners among themselves began to com- ment upon Emmanuel's words. My Lord Mayor The prisoners' said that the answer did not look Ite^ftS with a rugged face ; but Will-be-will answer. s&[& jt betokened evil ; and the Re- corder, that it was a messenger of death. Now, they that were left, and that stood behind, and so could not so well hear what the prisoners said, some of them catehed hold of one piece of a sentence, and some on a bit of another ; some took hold of what the messenger said, and some of the prisoners' Misgiving judgment thereon; so none had the .SStata "gkt understanding of things; but MausouL y0U cannot imagine what work these people made, and what a confusion there was in Mansoul now.2 For presently they that had heard what was said, Hew about the town; one crying one thing, and another the quite contrary, and both were sure enough they told true, for they did hear, they said, with their ears what was said, and therefore could not be deceived. One would say, We must all be killed; another would say, We must all he saved ; and a third would say that the Prince 1 It is a token of true conversion when the soul can, a- it were, with one eye, behold its total defilement by sin, ami abhor itself in dust and ashes; and with the other be struck with the glory and excellency of Cbl d work, and the ell-sufficiency of his salvation. — M "See Grace ALountJi,:n, No. Ibo.— [V.v.) would not be concerned with Mansoul ; and a fourth that the prisoners must he suddenly put to death. And as I Baid, • rery one Btood to it that he told his tale the tightest, and that all others hut be wore out. Wherefore Mansoul had now molesta- tion upon molestation, not COuld any man know on what to rest the Sole of hi- foot ; fir on,, would go by now, and as he went, if he heard his neigh- bour tell his tale, to be suit he would till the quite contrary, and both would stand in it that lie told the truth. Nay, BOme of them hail got this Bton by 'he end, that tin- Prince did intend tn put M. "isoid to the sword. And now it began to be dirk ; wherefore poor Mansoul wai in sad perplexity all that night until 1" the morning.' But, bo far as 1 could gather, by the best infor- mation that 1 could get, all this hubbub came through the words that the Recorder said, when he told them that in his judgment the Pri answer was a messenger of death. It v. that hied the town, ami that began Whal i the fright in Mansoul, for Mansoul, in do* former times, did use to count that Mr. I!' was a seer, and that his sentence v. a- equal to the best of oracles, and thus was Mansoul a tenor to itself. And now did they begin to feel what was the effects of stubborn rebellion, and unlawful resist- ance against their Prince. 1 say they now began to feel the effects thereof by guilt and fear, that now had swallowed them up, and who more in- volved in the one, but they who were most in the other; to wit, the chief of the town of Mansoul. To be brief, when the fame4 of the frigl out of the town, and the prisoners had a little r< - covered themselves, they take to tbemselvi heart, and think to petition the Prince xbej i for life again. So they did draw up V** a third petition, the contents whereof were this: — • Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of all worlds, and master of mercy, We, thy poor, . ; , . , , i . e T1" r wretched, miserable, dying town ot Mansoul, do confess unto thy great and glorious majesty that we have sinned against thy Father and thee, and are no more worthy to he called thy Mansoul, but rather to be cast into the pit. If thou wilt slay us, we have deserved it. If thou wilt condemn us to the deep, we cannot L thou art righteous. We cannot complain, whatever thou dost, or however thou carries! it towai But 0: let mercy reign; and let it he extended z No unconverted person can imagine with ^^'- rapidity these ideas ]u-iss through the mind of tl the detraction and misery of such a taiatv. The recollection of theae feeling* i* ' the forty-aecond Psalm. 'Deep calletl »me supposed good deeds, listen to the answer which naturally suggests itself, ' Let good works save thee ;' what need of grace. If solvation be attainable by the law, then the death of Christ wis needless. — (En.) with hands wringing together.2 Thus they wenl to the Prince's pavilion. Now when they went to petition this third time, they were not without thoughts that by often com. ing they might be a burden to the Prince. Where- fore, when they were come to the door __ . , J . Their apology of his pavilion, they first made their tor their com- apology for themselves, and for their s giU"' coming to trouble Emmanuel so often ; and they said that they came not hither to-day for that they delighted in being troublesome, or for that they delighted to hear themselves talk, but for that necessity caused them to come to his Majesty ; they could, they said, have no rest day nor night, because of their transgressions against Shaddai, and against Emmanuel his Son. They also thought that some misbehaviour of Mr. Desires-awake the last time, might give distaste to his Highness, and so caused that he returned from so merciful a Prince empty, and without countenance. So when they had made this apology, Mr. Desires- awake cast himself prostrate upon the ground as at the first, at the feet of the mighty Prince, saying, 0 that Mansoul might live before thee! And so he delivered his petition. The Prince then having read the petition, turned aside a while, as before, and, coming again to the place where the petitioner lay on the ground, he de- The Prince taik- manded what his name was, and of eth Wlth them- what esteem in the account of Mansoul ; for that he, above all the multitude in Mansoul, should be sent to him upon such an errand. Then said the man to the Prince, ' 0 let „ _ . ,. Mr. Desires fret not my Lord be angry ; and why speech to the inquirest thou after the name of such a dead dog as I am? Pass by, I pray thee, and take no notice of who I am, because there is, as thou very well knowest, so great a dispropor- tion between me and thee. Why the townsmen chose to send me on this errand to my Lord, is best known to themselves, but it could not be for that they thought that I had favour with my Lord. For my part, I am out of charity with myself; who then should be in love with me ? Yet live I would, and so would I that my townsmen should, and because both they and myself are guilty of great transgressions, therefore they have sent me, and 1 am come in their names to beg of my Lord for mercy. Let it please thee therefore to incline to mercy, but ask not what thy servants are.' Then said the Prince, ' And what is he that is become thy companion in this so weighty a matter?' So Mr. Desires told Emmanuel that he was a poor * How humbling to human pride is this ! But unless our desires for mercy be accompanied with a broken and a contrite spirit, they will be rejected; hut the broken heart God will not despise. Ps. sxxiv. 18; li. 17. Is. lvii. 15. 'He will re- gard the prayer of the destitute.' Ps. cii. 17. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. neighbour of his, ami one of his most intimate associates, ami his name, said be, may it please your most excellent Majesty, is Weteyes, of the town of Munsoul. I know that there •*• are many of tliat name that arc naught, hut 1 hope it will be no offence to my Lord that I have brought my poor neighbour with me. Then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on bia face to the ground, and made this apology for bia coming with his neighbour to his Lord: — 4 0 my Lord,' quoth he, ' what I am 1 know not Mr. WeteyM* myself, nor whether my name he ";!!',; feigned or true, especially when I hit neighbour, begin to think what some have said, namely, that this name was given me because Mr. Repentance was my father. Good men have had children, and the sincere do oftentimes beget hypocrites. My mother also called me by this name from my cradle, but whether because of the moistness of my brain, or because of the softness of my heart, I cannot tell. I see dirt in mine own tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers.' But I pray thee' — and all this while the gentleman wept — ' that thou wouldest not remember against us our transgressions, nor take offence at the un- qualifiedness of thy servants, but mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul, and refrain from the glory - fying of thy grace no longer.'2 So at his bidding they arose, and both stood trembling before him, and he spake to them to this purpose: — • The town of Mansoul hath grievously rebelled The Prince's an- against my Father, in that they have answer. rejected him from being their king, and did choose to themselves for their captain a liar, a murderer, and a runagate slave. For this Diabolus, and your pretended prince, though once so highly accounted of by you, made rebellion against my Father and me, even in our palace and highest court there, thinking to become a prince The original of and king. But being there timely Dmboius. discovered and apprehended, and for his wickedness bound in chains, and separated to the pit with those who were his companions, he offered himself to you, and you have received him. * Now this is, and for a long time hath been an high affront to my Father, wherefore my Father sent to you a powerful army to reduce you to your obedience. But you know how those men, their captains, and their counsel-, were esteemed of you. 1 This language i» peculiarly strikiug; there ma) be a mix- ture of pride in our deepest humility, and sin mingled with our holiest duties. — (Eu.) - \\ ill-be-will is brought low; Boastings, Bragman, Ill- pause are dead; the soul is humbled, ;■ id osea such strikiui; but just terms, 'I see dirt in mine own tears.' Redemption draws Ditrh. 13everidjr'c Bays, ' Repentance nerds to be re- pented, our tears want washing, and the very washing of these tears needs still to be washed over ;. .1 of the Redeemer.' — (Fd.) and what thej received at your hand. Yon belled against them, you shut your gates upon them, you hid them battle, you fought them, and fought for Diabolus againsl them. So they sent to my Father for more power, aid 1 with mi men are come to subdue you. But a- you treated the servants, so you treated their Lord. You st 1 up in hostile manner against me, you -hut up gates against me, you turned the deaf ear to me, and resisted as long as you could ; hut now 1 bave made a conquest >.f you. Did you cry me mercj so long as you had hopes that you might prevail against me?8 But now I have taken the town, you cry. But why did you not cry before, wh( white flag we can say nothing tor them. Then the Prince commanded that a herald A victory should be called, and that he should, proclaimed. ;n t]lQ m\^U anj throughout the camp of Emmanuel, proclaim, and that with sound of trumpet, that the Prince, the Son of Shaddai, had, in his Father's name, and for his Father's glory, gotten a perfect conquest and victory over Mansoul, and that the prisoners should follow him, and say. Amen. So this was done as he had com- Joy for the manded. And presently the music victory. that was in the upper region sounded melodiously. The captains that were in the camp shouted, and the soldiers did sing songs of triumph to the Prince, the colours waved in the wind, and great joy was everywhere, only it was wanting as vet in the hearts of the men of Mansoul.'5 1 'Death and the deep;' or bottomless pit. — (Ed.) 2 The distinction between inbred siusaad th of the enemy is very difficult to be drawn. The gold, silver, and precious stones will be purified and polished; while the wood, hay, and stubble will be burned up. 1 Co. iii. 12, 13. The natives or powers of the soul are pardoned, while the cor- inil lu^s are to be en r, Ibis is solemn, searching heart-work. — (Ed.) 3 The work 1 the heart taken ; the victory of Emmanuel over Man- oed; the heavenly host rejoices; Diabolus is driven from the town, but the Kiim of glory has not yet entered — his gracious | 1- not yet felt in the Bonl j the gates are open ; he will enter, and will not tarry. Is this to show that Heart Castle is to be- Then the Prince called for the and to Btand again before him, and they came and b1 1 trembling. And ' be said unto them, The . iniquities, that you, wit! ■ "> whole town of Mai from time to time commi r and me, I have power and commandment from rnj father tO fol il ; and do forgive you accordingly. And having so said, he gave them written in parchment, and seven seal-, a \m-^v. and general pardon, com- manding both my Lord Mayor, my Lord Will-be- will, and Mr. Recorder, to proclaim, and cause it to be proclaimed to-morrow by that the sun is up, throughout the whole town of Mansoul, Moreover, the Prince stripped the prisoners of their mourning weeds and cave 'beauty for ashes, the oil of iov for mourmnj irmenf of praise for the spirit of heaviness' u. hi. .;. Then he gave to each of the three gold, and preeious stones, and tool. away their ropes, and put chains of gold about their necks, and ear-rings in theii Now the prisoners, when they did hear the gi words of Prince Emmanuel, and had beheld all that was done unto them, fainted almo-t away; for the grace, the benefit, the pardoi sudden, glorious, and so big, that they were not able, without staggering, to stand up under it.1 Yea, my Lord Will-he-will swooned outright; but the Prince stepped to him, put his everlasting under him, embraced him, kissed him, and bid him be of good cheer, for all should be p cording to his word. lie al and smile upon the other two that were Will-be- will's companions, saying, Tak Further tokens of my hive, favour, and compassion to you ; and I charge you, that you, Mr. tell in the town of Mansoul what you have heard and Then were their fetters broken to pieci fore their faces, and cast into the ... - , . Their ?uilt. air. and their slips' were enlarged under them. Then they fell down at the f the Prince, and kissed his feet, and wetted them prepared for bitii, after it has been occupied by in 'The preparation of the heart 1- with bun,' a 4 1 had Mich strange apprehenaiona of the . I could hardly bear up under it; it was BO out of I amazing, when 1 thought it could reach me, that I d if that Bense of it had abode long npon me, it ••■ me incapable of I ining of 'their xviii. 36, and Pr. iv. 12. It is here m and walks full of bi Lv-> 304 THE HOLY WAR with tears; also they cried out with a mighty strong voice, saying, ' Blessed he the glory of the Lord from this place.' E%. Hi. 12. So they were hid rise up, and go to the town, ami tell to Mansoul what the Prince had done. He commanded also ,,,, . that one with a pipe and tabor should Jliev are Bent , home with pipe go and play hefore them all the way into the town of -Mansoul. Then was fulfilled what they never looked for, and they were made to possess that which they never dreamed of.1 . _ . The Prince also called for the noble l aptain Credence . „ , . . , guards th.-m Captain Credence, and commanded that he and some of his officers should march hefore the noblemen of Mansoul with Hying colours iuto the town. He gave also unto Captain Credence a charge, that pardon meet about that time that the Recorder did mem'and'exu- read *^e general pardon in the town """m, (l,'P:'<-< of Mansoul, that at that very time he from the heart ,,,.,„• i 1 • should with flying colours march m at Eyegate with his ten thousands at his feet, and that he should go until he came by the high street of the town, up to the castle gates, and that him- self should take possession thereof against his Lord came thither. He commanded, moreover, that he should bid Captain Judgment and Captain Execution to leave the strong hold to him, and to withdraw from Mansoul, and to return into the camp with speed unto the Prince. And now was the town of Mansoul also delivered from the terror of the first four captains and their men.2 [Chapter IX.] [(Jon i ents : — The liberated prisoners return to Mansoul, where they are received with great joy— The inhabitants request Emmanuel to take up his residence among them — He consents — .Makes a triumphal entry amid the shouts of the people — The town is new modelled, and the image of Shaddai erected.] Well, I told you before how the prisoners were entertained by the noble Prince Emmanuel, and how they behaved themselves hefore him, aud how he sent them away to their home with pipe and tabor going before them. And now you must think that those of the town that had all this while waited to hear of their death, could not but be exercised with Badness of mind, and with thoughts that pricked like thorns. Nor could their thoughts be kept to any one point ; the wind blew with them J What a change ! '.When the Lord turned again the cap- tivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our month filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing; then said they among the heathen, The Lord hath done great things for them. Who is like uuto thee, pardoning iniquity, trans- gression, and siu? Blessed is he whose transgression is for- given, whose siu is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity. Blessed is the man to whom God imputeth rLjhteousuess without works.' Ho. iv. 5. — (Burder) all this while at great uncertainties, yea, their hearts were like a balance that had been disquieted with a shaking hand. But at last, as they with many a long look looked over the wall of Mansoul, they thought that they saw some returning to the town ; and thought again, Who should they be too, who should they be ! At last they discerned that they were the prisoners ; but can you imagine bow their hearts were surprised with wonder, especially when they perceived also in what equipage aud with what honour they were sent home ? They went down to the camp in black, but they came back to the town in white; they went down a strange alter- to the camp in ropes, they came back all0n- in chains of gold ; they went down to the camp with their feet in fetters, but came back with their steps enlarged under them ; they went also to the camp looking for death, but they came back from thence with assurance of life ; they went down to the camp with heavy hearts, but came back again with pipe and tabor playing before them. So, so soon as they were come to Eyegate, the poor and tot- tering town of Mansoul adventured to give a shout, and they gave such a shout as made the captains in the Prince's army leap at the sound thereof. Alas for them, poor hearts ! who could blame them, since their dead friends were come to life again ? for it was to them as life from the dead, to see the ancients of the town of Mansoul to shine in such splendour. They looked for nothing but the axe and the block ; but behold, joy and gladness, comfort and consolation, and such melo- dious notes attending of them that was sufficient to make a sick mau well. So when they came up, they saluted each other with Welcome ! welcome ! and blessed be he that has spared you. is. ssndii. 24. They added also, We see it is well with you, but how must it go with the town of Mansoul ? and, Will it go well with the town of Mansoul ? said they. Then answered them the Re- conscience. The corder and my Lord Mayor, 0 tidings ! understanding. glad tidings ! good tidings of good and of great joy to poor Mansoul ! Then they gave another shout that made the earth to ring again. After this they inquired yet more particularly how things went in the camp, and what message they had from Emmanuel to the town, So they told them all passages that had happened to them at the camp, and everything that the Prince did to them. This made Mansoul wonder at the wisdom and grace of the Prince Emmanuel. Then they told them what they had received at his bands for the whole town -' 'There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.' The four captains no longer deuouuee the wrath of God ; the end of their ministry is accomplished, aud their awful speeches are no more heard. This is well expressed in the margio. When faith and pardon meet together, judgment and leentiou depart from the heart. — (Burder.) THE HOLY WAR. SO 3 of Mansoul ; and the Recorder delivered it in tbeee o n.e fa* of words — Pabooh, Pardon, Pardon for parUoaof.mi Mansoul ; aud thisshall Mansoul know to-morrow. Then ho commanded, and they wont and summoned Mansoul to meet together in the market-place to-morrow, there to hear their general pardon read. But who ean think what a turn, what a change, what an alteration this hint of things did make in the countenance of the town of Mansoul! No man of Mansoul could sleep that night for joy j1 to every house there was joy ami music, singing T.Hvn-taiurtv- end making merry, telling aud hearing "i of Mansoul's happiness, was then all that Mansoul had to do; and this was the burden of all their song — 0, more of this at the rising of the sun ! more of this to-morrow ! Who thought vesterday, would one say, that this day would have been such a day to us ? And who thought, that saw our prisoners go down in irons, that they would have returned in chains of gold ! yea, they that judged themselves as they went to he judged of their judge, were by his mouth acquitted, not for that they were innocent, but of the Prince's mercy, and sent home with pipe and tabor. But is this the common custom of princes ? do they use to show such kind of favours to traitors ? No ! this is only peculiar to Shaddai, and unto Emmanuel his Son.- Now morning drew on apace, wherefore the Lord Mayor, the Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder came down to the market-place at the time that the Prince had appointed, where the townsfolk were waiting for them ; and when they came, they came in that attire and in that glory that the Prince had put them into the day before, and the street was lightened with their glory. So the Mayor, Recorder, and my Lord Will-he-will drew down to Mouthgate, which was at the lower end of the market-place, because that of old time was the place where they used to read public matters. Thither therefore they came in their robes, and their tabret went before them. Now the eager- ness of the people to know the full of the matter was great. Then the Recorder stood up upon his feet, and _n , first beckoning with his hand for a The manner of ° . .-eating tlie silence, he read out with loud voice the pardon. But when he came to these 1 Reader, have you experienced this holy joy, ' unspeakable, mi I full of gloryr What can we render to ftod for Mich a Our light afflictions, which -rriuJ ui to the earth, are but for a moment in comparison with 'an eternal weight of glory.' 'The inhabitants shall not say, I an sick;' there is no cause of sickness or pain, for they are 'forgiven their ini- quity.' Is. xxxiii. '24. — (Erf) ' Man bestows favours ou the most worthy, but Coil extends mercy to enemies, rebels, and beggars; whom he strips of their filthy rags of pride and self-righteousm S3, blots out their sins by the blood of his cross, aud arrays with the best robe of salvatiou. — (Mason.) VOL. III. words, 'The Lord, tho Lord God, mercifu gracious, pardoning iniquity, transgression, and Sin, Bz.zxzir.6i and to these, 'all manner of sin and blasphemy shall he forgiven,' it they could not forbear but leap for joy. For this vou must know, that there was conjoined herewith every man's name in Mansoul; also tac- tile pardon made a brave show.8 When the Recorder had made an end of readin ' the pardon, the townsmen ran up upon >•„„ . the walls of the town, and leaped am! L'" '" skipped thereon for joy; and hov.ed themselves .-even times with their faces towards Emmanuel's pavilion, and shouted out aloud for joy, and .-aid, Let Emmanuel live for ever! Then order was given to the young men in Mansoul, Urelrtadwira that they should ring the hells for j-y. l!l So the hells did ring, and the people sing, the music l;o in every house in Mansoul.4 When the Prince had sent home the three pri- soners of Mansoul with joy, and pipe, and tabor; he commanded his captains, with all . the field-officers and soldiers through- Uweamp. OUt his army, to he ready in that morning that the Recorder should read the pardon in Mansoul, to do his further pleasure. So the morning, as I have showed, being come, just as the Recorder had made an end of reading the pardon, Emman- uel commanded that all the trumpets in the camp should sound, that the colours should be displayed, half of them upon Mount Gracious, and half of them upon Mount Justice.5 He commanded also that all the captains should show themselves in all their harness, and that the soldiers should shout for jov. Nor was Captain Credence, though in the castle, silent in such a day, hut he, from the top of the hold, b,w'J- showed himself with sound of trumpet to Mansoul, and to the Prince's camp. Thus have 1 showed you the manner and way that Emmanuel took to recover the town of Man- soul from under the hand and power of the tyrant Diabolus. Now when the Prince had completed these, the outward ceremonies of his joy, he again commanded that his captains and soldiers should T| <¥ ft show unto Mansoul some teats of war. So they presently addressed thei selves to this work. But 0, with what agility, 3 'Sealed with the Holy Spirit' to the .lay of redemption, to show forth faith by works 'with meekness brave show; see Ep. i". 13; iv. 3U. Ja. ii. Is; iii. 18*- 4 O pardoned smner, how can yon snfficil ' exceeding riches Of Divi vain the soul attempt- to measure the breadth and length, tl the love of Christ; it rarpasseth know -■■■. -(BurdarJ * Duriug the siege, the fl^gg were unfurhd one a? beginning with merry, and ending m i ' :*t now md truth are met together, rurhteomaeai and peace ied each otfer. J'-. Ixuv. 1 >.— (E°J ftfi 305 THE HOLY WAR. nimhleness, dexterity, and bravery did these mili- tary men discover their skill in feats of war to the now gazing town of Mansoul ! They marched, they counter-marched, they opened to the right and left, they divided and sub- divided, they closed, they wheeled, made good their front and rear with their right and left wings, and twenty things more, with that aptness, and ... then were all as they were as;ain, that 1 hey are ravished . , , F , at the sight of they took, yea, ravished the hearts that were in Mansoul to behold it. But add to this, the handling of their arms, the managing of their weapons of war, were marvel- lous taking to Mansoul and me.1 When this action was over, the whole town of Mansoul came out as one man to the Prince in the camp to thank him, and praise him for his abun- dant favour, and to beg that it would please his Thev , that grace to come unto Mansoul with his the Princeana men, and there to take up their quar- his men will . *■ . ,., • dwell with ters tor ever. And this they did m -hem or ever. most iiura|,;e manner, bowing them- selves seven times to the ground before him. Then said he, All peace be to you. So the town came nigh, and touched with the hand the top of his golden sceptre, and they said, 0 that the Prince Emmanuel, with his captains and men of Avar, would dwell in Mansoul for ever ; and that his battering rams and slings might be lodged in her for the use and service of the Prince, and for the help and strength of Mansoul. 'For,' said they, 'we have room for thee, we have room for thy men, we have also room for thy weapons of war, and a place to make a magazine for thy carriages. Do it, Say, and hold to Emmanuel, and thou shalt be King it, ManaouL an(j Captain in Mansoul for ever. Yea, govern thou also according to all the desire of thy soul, and make thou governors and princes under thee of thy captains and men of war, and we will Income thy servants, and thy laws shall be our direction.' They added, moreover, and prayed his Majesty to consider thereof; ' for,' said they, ' if now, after nil this grace bestowed upon us thy miserable town of Mansoul, thou shouhlest withdraw, thou and thy captains from us, the town of Mansoul will die'-' Yea,' said they, ' our blessed Emmanuel, if thou shouhlest depart from us now thou hast done so much good for us, and showed so much mercy unto us; what will follow but that our joy will be as if it had not been, and our enemies will a second time come upon us with more rage than at the 1 'And mi',' shows tin: personal interest of the author in this soul's conflict with the prince of darkness. The war is to be carried on, therefore must Mansoul learn the art of war, and see the King in his beauty, gl"ry, and [lower, (hat he may have confidence in him. Christ, by faith, dwells in the heart, and all is rapture and ecstacy ; and they, for a time, see nothing of the l'iaboloniaus who yet lurked in their walls. — (Ed.) first. Wherefore, we beseech thee, 0 thou the desire of our eyes, and the strength and life of our poor town, accept of this motion that now we have made unto our Lord, and come and dwell in the midst of us, and let us be thy people. Besides, Lord, we do not know but that to this day many Diabolonians may be yet lurking in the town of Mansoul, and they will betray us when thou shalt leave us, into the hand of .Diabolus again ; and who knows what designs, plots, or contrivances have passed betwixt them about these things already ; loth we are to fall again into his horrible hands. Wherefore, let it please thee to accept of our palace for thy place of residence, and of the houses of the best men in our town for the reception of thy soldiers, and their furniture.' 3 Then said the Prince, 'If I come to your town, will you suffer me further to prosecute T1 p that which is in mine heart against question to . .,. Mansoul. mine enemies and yours, yea, will you help me in such undertakings?' They answered, ' We know not what we shell do ; we did not think once that we should have been such traitors to Shaddai as we have proved to be ; what then shall we say to our Lord? Let him put no trust in his saints, let the Prince dwell in our castle, and make of our town a garrison, let him set his noble cap- tains, and his warlike soldiers over us. Yea, let him conquer us with his love, and overcome us with his grace, and then surely shall he be but with us, and help us, as he was, and did that morning that our pardon was read unto us, we shall comply with this, our Lord, and with his ways, and fall in with his word against the mighty. ' One word more, and thy servants have done, and in this will trouble our Lord no more. We know not the depth of the wisdom of thee our Prince. Who could have thought that had been ruled by his reason, that so much sweet as we do now enjoy should have come out of those bitter trials wherewith we were tried at the first? but, Lord, let light go before, and let love come after ; yea, take us by the hand, and lead us by thy counsels, and let this always abide upon us, that all things shall be for the best for thy servants, and come to our Mansoul, and do as it pleaseth thee. Or, Lord, come to our Mansoul, do what * This is the fear which is the beginning of wisdom, arising from a sense of total dependence upon the Lord for spiritual strength ; a fear of losing his presence. ' Hold up my goings that, my footsteps slip not.' Ps. xvii. 5.— (Ed.) 3 ' Furniture,' as au old military term, means warlike equip- ments. ' To deedes of armes and proof of chivalric, Tiiey £un tliemselucs addresse, lull rich a^uiz'd, Aj each one had hU furniture deviz'd.'— Sncnccr.— vEa.) THE HOLY WAR 801 thou wilt, so thou kccpest us from sinning, and makest us serviceable to thy majesty.'1 Then said the Prince to the town of Maneoul again, 'tin, return to your houses in ITe ronscntcth ° T ... .... ,.*.,. , io dwell in peace, 1 will willingly m tins comply JrSti, "to ™th your deBireB. I will remove my '" ''" royal pavilion, I will draw up my morrow, • ■ ' ' forces before Eyegate to-morrow, and so will march forwards into the town of Mansoul. 1 will possess myself of your castle of Mansoul, and will set my Boldiers over you ; yea, 1 will yet do things in Mansoul that cannot be paralleled in any nation, country or kingdom under heaven.' Then did the men of Mansoul give a shout, and returned unto their houses in peace; they also told to their kindred and friends the good that Em- manuel had promised to Mansoul. And to-mor- row, said they, he will march into our town, and take up his dwelling, he and his men in Mansoul. Then went out the inhabitants of the town of ManamT, pre- Mansoul with haste to the green trees, •or and to the meadows, to gather boughs Lis n ception. . ,, . . , ,, and flowers, therewith to strew the streets against their Frince, the Son of Shaddai, should come ; they also made garlands, and other fine works, to betoken how joyful they were, and should be to receive their Emmanuel into Mansoul ; yea, they strewed the street quite from Eyegate to the Castle-gate, the place where the Prince should be. They also prepared for his coming what music the town of Mansoul would afford, that they might play before him to the palace, his habitation. So, at the time appointed, he makes his approach to Mansoul, and the gates were set open for him, there also the ancients and elders of Mansoul met him, to salute him with a thousand welcomes. Then he arose and entered Mansoul, he and all his servants. The elders of Mansoul did also go dancing before him till he came to the castle gates. And this was the manner of his going Mmi" up thither. He was clad in his golden soul, and how. ^^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^^ the trumpets sounded about him, the colours were displayed, his ten thousands went up at his feet, and the elders of Mansoul danced before him. And now were the walls of the famous town of Mansoul filled with the tramplings of the inhabi- tants thereof, who went up thither to view the 1 This i* the language of first love \ bot let the caution in (he margin be noticed, 'Say, and hold to it, Mansoul." Happy, indeed, are those who continue in this good mind all their days I Alas! the sequel of the story shows how changeable a (-nature is man.— (Burder.) Without Christ we can Jo nothing. Jn. xv. 5. — (.Mason.) * When the glory of Christ's person and Work It manifested, the renewed soul, transported with joy at the sight, finds him to be the fairest among tea thousand fair, and altogether lovely.— (M, .son.) He enters the town oi approach of the blessed Prince, Also the caBementB, windows, baloonie , and of the houses were all now filled with , all sorts to behold how their town was to fo with good.8 Now when be was come so far into the town a to the Recorder's bouse, he commanded thai should go i" Captain Credence, to know whether the castle of Mansoul was prepared I his Royal Presence, for the preparation of that fl to that Captain, and word was brought that it was ' tax?.*. Then was Captain Cn commanded also to come forth with his power I i meet the Prince, the which was, as be bad manded, done, and he conducted him inf castle.4 Ep. i.i. n. This done, the Prince that night did lodge in the castle with his mighty captaius and men of v.ar, to the joy of the tOWO of Mai Now the next care of the townsfolk was how ptains and soldiers of the Prince's should be quartered among them, and the CSJ not how they should shut their hands /• i ii i ill en i • T||C '' of them, hut how they Should fill then- houses with them; for every man in Mansoul now had that esteem of Em- "•■* * manuel and his men, that nothing grieved them more than because the; enlarged enough, every one of them to receit whole army of the Prince, yea, they counted it their glory to be waiting upon them, and would in those days run at their bidding like lacqueys. At last they came to this result: — 1. That Captain Iunocency should quarter at Mr. Reason's. 2. That Captain Pa- How ■ tience should quarter at Mr. Mind's. ^ This Mr. Mind was formerly the Loi 1 Will-he-will's clerk, in time of the late rebellion. 3. It was ordered that Captain Charity quarter at Mr. Affection's house. 4. That Cap- tain Goodhope should quarter at my Lord Mayor a Now for the house of the Recorder, himself d - sired, because his house was next to the and because from him it was ordered by the Prince, that, if need he, the alarm should he given to Mansoul; it was, I say. desired by him that Cap- tain Boanerges and Captain Conviction should take up their quarters with him, even they and all their men. 5. As for Captain Judgment, Captain Execution, my Lord Will-be-will took them, and their men to him, because he ■ rule under the Prince for the good of the town ol 3 Well may the soul rejoice when .)■ - 'If a man love me, lie will keep mj will love l.iiu, auu we "ill come unto him, and make our abode with him.' Jn. mv. 23. — (Border.) , . * Throughout this war, of. Here we have exemplified the seriptun i brisl ma] dwell in your bearti ■ - fving yonr hearts bj faith. Ac. xv. 9.— (En»J 308 THE HOLY WAR. Mansoul now. as lie had before, under the tyrant Diabolua for the hurt and damage thereof, ito. vi. 19. Ep iii. 17. 6. And throughout the rest of the town were quartered Emmanuel's forces, but Captain Credence with his men abode still in the castle. So the Prince, his captains, and his soldiers were lodged in the town of Mansoul.1 Now the ancients and elders of the town of Huwral in- Mansoul thought that they never 8SSfd ivinrc should have enough of the Prince Emmanuel. Emmanuel; his person, his actions, Lis words, and behaviour, were so pleasing, so taking, so desirable to them. Wherefore, they prayed him, that though the castle of Mansoul was his place of residence, and they desired that he might dwell there for ever, yet that he would often visit the streets, houses, and people of Man- soul. For, said they, dread Sovereign, thy pre- sence, thy looks, thy smiles, thy words, are the life, and strength, and sinews of the town of Mansoul.2 Besides this, they craved that they might have, They have ac- without difficulty or interruption, con- cess unto him. i\naa\ access unto him, so for that very purpose he commanded that the gates should stand open, that they might there see the manner of his doings, the fortifications of the place, and the royal mansion-house of the Prince. When he Hiey lcam of spake they all stopped their mouths, him- and gave audience ; and when he walked, it was their delight to imitate him in his goings. Now upon a time Emmanuel made a feast for the town of Mansoul, and upon the feasting-day the townsfolk were come to the castle to partake of his banquet. And he feasted them with all manner of outlandish food, food that grew not in the fields of Mansoul, nor in all the whole kingdom of Universe. It was food that came from his Promise after Father's court, and so there was dish I ■",mse- after dish set before them, and they were commanded freely to eat. But still when a fresh dish was set before them, they would whis- peringly say to each other, What is it?3 Ex. xvi. 15. For they wist not what to call it. They drank also of the water that was made wine ; and were Erave enter- very merry with him. There was Um.nent. mus;e ajs() all the whi]e afc ^ ^^ 1 .Much judgment is displayed in this distribution of the bi Idiers, particularly in quartering Boanerges aod Conviction in I te In. use of Conscience. — (Burder.) - The convert's anxious desire is, that Emmanuel should not only reign in the heart or castle, but also visit and govern the head or judgment, and all the powers of the soul. — (Ed.) y ' What is it;' the meaning of the word manna, put in the margin of the Bible. — (Ed.) 4 These sweet views of Christ, and the comforts of his Spirit, are not uncommon at the soul's espousals to him after conver- sion, when he brings her into his banqueting-house ; and his banner over her is love. Ca. ii. 4. — (Mason.) 0 This is the gospel feast— a feast of fat things, meat ind< ed, and man did eat angels' food, and had honey given him out of the rock. So Mansoul did eat the food that was peculiar to the court, yea, they had now thereof to the full.4 Ps. lxxviii. 24, 25. I must not forget to tell you that as at this table there were musicians, so they were not those of the country, nor yet of the town of Mansoul ; but they were the masters of the songs that were sung at the court of Shaddai.5 Now after the feast was over, Emmanuel was for entertaining the town of Mansoul . , °. .,„ » Kiddles. with some curious riddles 01 secrets drawn up by his Father's secretary, by the skill and wisdom of Shaddai ; the like to these there is not in any kingdom. These riddles The Holy Scrip- were made upon the King Shaddai tures- himself, and upon Emmanuel his Son, and upon his wars and doings with Mansoul. Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of those riddles himself, but 0 how they were light- ened ! They saw what they never saw, they could not have thought that such rarities could have been couched in so few and such ordinary words. I told you before whom these riddles did concern ; and as they were opened, the people did evidently see it was so. Yea, they did gather that the things themselves were a kind of portraiture, and that of Emmanuel himself ; for when the}' read in the scheme where the riddles were writ, and looked in the face of the Prince, things looked so like the one to the other that Mansoul could not forbear but say, This is the Lamb, this is the Sacrifice, this is the Rock, this is the Red Cow, this is the Door, and this is the way ; with a great many other things more.6 And thus he dismissed the town of Mansoul. But can you imagine how the people of the cor- poration were taken with this entertainment? 0 they were transported with joy, they The end of that were drowned with wonderment, while banquet. they saw and understood, and considered what their Emmanuel entertained them withal, and what mysteries he opened to them ; and when they were at home in their houses, and in their most retired places, they could not but sing of him, and of his actions. Yea, so taken were the townsmen now with their Prince, that they would sing of him in their sleep. and drink indeed ; not of nature, but from heaven. The mnsic is such as saints and angels sing before the throne ; the word of Christ, in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. — (Burder.) 6 Buuyan was fond of introducing spiritual riddles in godly company, and it must have been a very profitable pastime. The types of Christ in the Old Testament are excellent riddles. So when the Pilgrims are entertained by Gaius, nuts and riddle* are introduced. ' Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheater^. Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eatei-. Ope then the shells, and you shall have, the meat, They here are brought for you to crack and eat.' Care being taken not to spoil tender teeth in cracking their.. THE HOI.Y WAR. too Now it was in the heart of the Prince Emmanuel to new model the town of Mansoul, and Mnnsoul must . . ... . , be new model- to put it into such a condition as might be more pleasing to him, ami that might best stand with the profit and security of the now flourishing town of Mansoul. He provided also against insurrections at home, and in. from abroad ; Buch love had be For the famous town of Mansoul. Wherefore he first of all commanded TheinstrnmeaU that the great slings that were brought From hia Father's court, when became to the war of -Mansoul, should be mounted, some upon the battlements of the castle, some upon the towers, fur there were towers in the town of Man- soul, towers new built by Emmanuel sine, be came thither.1 There was also an instrument invented A nameless ter- by Emmanuel, that was to throw "u-ift inkLan- stones from the castle of Mansoul, out *°uL at Mouthgate; an instrument that could not be resisted, nor that would miss of execu- tion; wherefore for the wonderful exploits that it did when used, it went without a name, and it was committed to the care of, and to be managed by the brave captain, the Captain Credence, in case of war,-' This done, Emmanuel called the Lord Will-be- J.urd Will-be- "iH to him, and gave him in command- will promoted. mentl to take care of the gates, the wall, and towers in Mansoul. Also the Prince gave him the militia into his hand ; and a special charge to withstand all insurrections and tumults that might be made in Mansoul, against the peace of our Lord the King, and the peace and tranquillity of the town of Mansoul. He also gave him in commission, that if he found any of the Diaboloni- ans lurking in any corner in the famous town of Mansoul, he should forthwith apprehend them, and stay them, or commit them to safe custody, that they may be proceeded against according to law. Then he called unto him the Lord Understand- My Lord Mayor big, who was the old Lord-mayor, he put into place. tjjat was j,ut out 0f p]ace WDen Dia- bolus took the town, and put him into his former office again, and it became his place for his life- time, lie bid him also that he should build him a palace near Eyegatc, and that he should build it in fashion like a tower for defence. He bid him also that he should read in the revelation of mys- teries8 all the days of his life, that he might know 1 The slinks are books of Scripture ; see the margin probably referring to the epistles of the New 'I > These arc powerful instruments, both defensive and offensive, when properly inouuttd upon a renewed heart and mental powers. — (Ed ) 2 Does this nameless engine at Montbgate mean prayer? The unseen prayer of faith has performed wonderful exploits. The siknt ejaculations ot' the heart, the ' groaning* which can- not be uttered.' — (En.) 5 The Bible, the only guide to all, but especially to my Lord Mayor, 'the understanding.' — (En.j how to perform his office aright, lie also Mr. Knowledge the Recorder; not of Mr. k apt to old Mr. Conscience) who had been Recorder before; but for that it n his princely mind to confer upon Mr. ' another employ ; of which he told the old gentle- man be should know more hereafter. Then he commanded that the image of Di should be taken down from the place where it wa set up, and that they should destroy tbelmag it utterly, beating of it into powder, • I • i • i - sel up and easting it unto the Wind, without again in M.m- the town-wall ; and that the b of Shaddai hie Father should b< q, with his own, upon the castle gates, and that it should be more fairly drawn than ever ; forasmuch a bis Father and himself were come to Mao more grace and mercy than heretofore, i ■ iid also that his name should be fairly en- graven upon the front of the town, and that it should be done in the best of gold, for the honour of the town of Mansoul.4 [Chapter X.] [Contents : — The strongholds of Diabolus d< dulity, Forget-good, Lustings, and other Diaboloni prehended, tried, and executed, to the great joy of Man- soul.] After this was done, Emmanuel gave out a commandment that those three great Diaboloniane should be apprehended ; namely, the two late Lord Mayors ; to wit, Mr. Incredulity. Mr. Lustings, and Mr. Forget-good the Recorder. Besides I there were some of them that Diaholus made burgesses and aldermen in Mansoul, thai committed to ward by the hand of the now valiant, and now right noble, the brave Lord Will-1 And these were their names, Alder- man Atheism, Alderman HardL ommitted and Alderman Falsepeace. The bur- were Mr. Notruth, Mr. Pitili as, _';;";, 'r"an ,l,r Mr. Haughty, with the lil were committed to close custody; and the j name was Mr. Trueman ; this Trueman was one of those that Emmanuel brought with him from his Father's court, when at the first he t., war upon Diabolus in the town of Mansoul. After this, the Prince gave a charge tb I I three strong holds, that at the • - ..,,„.-. mand of Diabolus the Dkbolonians j U: 'i U UuWII. built in Mansoul, should be demolish d, and utterly pulled down ; of which holds and the r names, with their captains and g ' reed * Theund.rMandin-'i-.hirl'.ha.i-trated.nvle.lbyf of the Scripture*, knowledge ot God in Chi sway, another othoe being appointed I r< is to be utterly destroyed, am in the bouL— (Bn 310 THE HOLY WAR. The prisoners brought to tin a little before. But this was long in doing, because df the largeness of the places, and because the stones, the timber, the iron, and all rubbish, was to be carried without the town.1 When this was done, the Prince gave order that , , the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of A court to be •> m calledtotrythe Mansoul should call a court of judi- cature for the trial and execution of \]\e Diabolonians in the corporation, now under the charge of Mr. True man the jailer. Now when the time was come, and the court set, commandment was sent to Mr. e Trneman the jailer, to bring the prisoners down to the bar. Then were the prisoners brought down, pinioned, and chained together, as the custom of the town of Mansoul was. So when they were presented before the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and the rest of the honourable bench, first, the jury was impanelled, The jury im- and then the witnesses sworn. The !£?&££ names of t1ie JU17 were these? Mr- s«oni. Belief, Mr. Trueheart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hatebad, Mr. Lovegod, Mr. Seetruth, Mr. Heavenly-mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Woodwork, Mr. Zeal-for-God, and Mr. Humble.2 The names of the witnesses were Mr. Knowall, Mr. Tclltrue, Mr. Hatelies, with my Lord Will- be-will and his man, if need were. So the prisoners were set to the bar ; then said Dori"ht the Mr. Doright, for he was the town- Clerk. c]erk, Set Atheism to the bar, jailer. So he was set to the bar. Then said the clerk, Atheism set to Atheism, h°ld up thy hand. Thou art the bar; hi- in- here indicted by the name of Atheism, an intruder upon the town of Mansoul, for that thou hast perniciously and doultishly taught and maintained that there is no God ; and so no heed to be taken to religion. This thou hast done against the being, honour, and glory of the King, nnd against the peace and safety of the town of Mansoul. What sayest thou, art thou guilty of this indictment, or not? ins plea. Atheism. Not guilty. Crier. Call Mr. Knowall, Mr. Telltrue, and Mr. Hatelies, into the court. So they were called, and they appeared. Clerk. Then said the Clerk, You, the witnesses fir the King, look upon the prisoner at the bar ; do you know him? Know. Then said Mr. Knowall, Yes, my Lord, we know him, his name is Atheism ; he has been 1 What a work of labour and time is here set to Mansoul. The strongholds of Satan are to be pulled down, and all the materials of which they were constructed arc to be clean rc- moved out of the town. This can only be effeeted by the in- d.welling of Christ in the soul, lie conies to destroy the works of the devil to pull down his strong-holds, and to purify the soul — (Kd.) a very pestilent fellow for many years in the miserable town of Mansoul. Clerk. You are sure you know him. Know. Know him ! Yes, my Lord ; I have here- tofore too often been in his company, to be at this time ignorant of him. He is a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, I knew his grandfather, and his father. Clerk. Well said. He standeth here indicted by the name of Atheism, &c, and is charged that he hath maintained and taught that there is no God, and so no heed need be taken to any religion. What say you, the King's witnesses, to this? Is he guilty, or not? Know. My Lord, I and he were once in Villains' Lane together, and he at that time did briskly talk of diverse opinions, and then and there I heard him say that for his part he did believe that there was no God. But, said he, I can profess one, and be as religious too, if the company I am in, and the circumstances of other things, said he, shall put me upon it. Clerk. You are sure you heard him say thus. Know. Upon mine oath I heard him say thus. Then said the Clerk, Mr. Telltrue, What say you to the King's judges, touching the prisoner at the bar ? Tell. My Lord, I formerly was a great com< panion of his, for the which I now repent me, and I have often heard him say, and that with very great stomachfulness, that he believed there was neither God, angel, nor spirit. Clerk. Where did you hear him say so ? Tell. In Blackmouth Lane, and in Blasphemers' Row, and in many other places besides. Clerk. Have you much knowledge of him? Tell. I know him to be a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, and a horrible man to deny a Deity ; his Father's name was Never-be-good, and he had more children than this Atheism. I have no more to say. Clerk. Mr. Hatelies, look upon the prisoner at the bar; do you know him? Hate. My Lord, this Atheism is one of the vilest wretches that ever I came near, or had to do with in my life. I have heard him say that there is no God ; I have heard him say that there is no world to come, no sin, nor punishment here- after ; and moreover, I have heard him say that it was as good to go to a whore-house as to go to hear a sermon. Clerk. Where did you hear him say theso things ? 2 A jury of good men and true. What a contrast between them and Judge Lord Hategood, with the jury who tried Faithful— Blindman, Nogood, Malice, Lovclust, Liveloose, Heady llighmiud, Enmity, Liar, Cruelty, liatelight, and Implacable.-— (Ed.) TITE HOLY WK\l 3I1 liU pie Hate. In Drunkards' Row, just at Rascal Lano'a end, at a house in which Mr. Impiety lived.1 Lnstings set to CLERK. Sot him hv, jailer, and set lh"''M- Mr. Lustinga to the 'bar. Mr. Lustings, Thou art here indicted by the „. . ,. oame of Lustiness, an intruder upon His indictment. , . ,, . e , ' the town ■ , n Pali at any time to this opinion of mine, hut have li\. ■! in the love of my notions all my days, X 1 ever so churlish, having found tness in them myself, as to keep the commendations of them from others.' Court. Then said the court, There hath pro- ceeded enough from his own mouth to lay him open to condemnation, wherefore set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Incredulity to the bar. Incredulity set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Incredulity, Thou art here indictc I by the name of Incredulity, an in- i,ir:, truder upon the town of Mansoul, for to the bar. that thou hast feloniously and wickedly, and that when thou wert an officer in the town of Mansoul, made head against the captains of the great King Shaddai, when they came and demanded possession of Mansoul ; yea, thou didst bid de- „ ., ' • , II n mditlnwnv fiance to the name, forces, and c of the King, and did.-t also, ftS did ;' captain, stir up and encourage the town of Man- soul to make head against, and resist the said force of the King. What Bayest thou to this in- dictment? Art thou guilty of it, or not? Then said Incredulity, I know not Shaddai, I love my old prince, I thought it my duty tO be true to my trust, and to d > what I could to possess the minds of the men "r Mansoul, to do their utmost to resist Strang' I foreigners, and with might to fight against them. Nor have I, nor shall I change my opin fear of trouble, though you at pi of place and power. Court. Then said the court, the man, ■ see, is incorrigible, he is for maintaining his vil- * The sit.ner is not satisfied with ! is ever leading • I ing plague, the unconverted hi 31 J THE HOLY WAR. lainics by stoutness of words, and his rebellion with impudent confidence ; and, therefore, set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Forget-good to the bar. Forget-good set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Forget-good, thou art here indicted 5 i set by the name of Forget-good, an in- to the bur. tl.lKier Up0n the town of Mansoul, for His indictment. t)iat thou, when the whole affairs of tlie town of Mansoul were in thy hand, didst ut- terly forget to serve them in what was good, and didst fall in with the tyrant Diabolus against Shaddai the King, against his captains, and all his host, to the dishonour of Shaddai, the breach of his law, and the endangering of the destruction of the famous town of Mansoul. What sayest thou to tli is indictment ? Art thou guilty, or not guilty ? Then said Forget-good, Gentlemen, and at this time my judges, as to the indictment by which I stand of several crimes accused before you, pray attribute my forgetful- ness to mine age, and not to my wilfulness ; to the craziness of my brain, and not to the carelessness of my mind, and then I hope I may by your charity be excused from great punishment, though I be guilty. Then said the court, Forget-good, Forget-good, thy forgetfulness of good was not simply of frailty, but of purpose, and for that thou didst loathe to keep virtuous things in thy mind. What was bad thou couldest retain, but what was good thou couldest not abide to think of; thy age, therefore, and thy pretended craziness, thou makest use of to blind the court withal, and as a cloak to cover thy knavery. But let us hear what the witnesses have to say for the King against the prisoner at the bar — is he guilty of this indictment, or not? Hate. My Lord, I have heard this Forget-good say that he could never abide to think of good- ness, no, not for a quarter of an hour. Clerk. Where did you hear him say so? Hate. In Allbase Lane, at a house next door to the Sign of the Conscience-seared-with-an-hot-iron. Clerk. Mr. Kuowall, what can you say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar? Know. My Lord, I know this man well, he is a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, his Father's name was Lovenaught, and for him, I have often heard him say that he counted the very thoughts of goodness the most burthensomc thing in the world. Clerk. Where have you heard him say these words? Know. In Flesh Lane, right opposite to the church. Then said the clerk, Come, Mr. Tolltrue, give in your evidence concerning the prisoner at the bar about that for which he stands here, as you see, indicted before this honourable court. Tell. My Lord, I have heard him often 3ay he had rather think of the vilest thing than of what is contained in the holy Scriptures. Clerk. Where did you hear him say such griev- ous words? Tell. Where? in a great many places; par- ticularly in Nauseous Street, in the house of one Shameless, and in Filth Lane, at the sign of the Reprobate, next door to the Descent-into-the-pit. Court. Gentlemen, you have heard the indict- ment, his plea, and the testimony of the witnesses. Jailer, set Mr. Hardheart to the bar. He is set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Hardheart, thou art here indicted by the name of Hardheart, an in- Hardheart set truder upon the town of Mansoul, for t0 the bar- that thou didst most desperately and wickedly possess the town of Mansoul with impenitency and obdurateness, and didst keep them from remorse and sorrow for their evils, all the time of their apostasy from, and rebellion against, the blessed King Shaddai. What sayest thou to this indict- ment? Art thou guilty, or not guilty? Hard. My Lord, I never knew what remorse or sorrow meant in all my life ; I am impenetrable, I care for no man ; nor cau I be pierced with men's griefs, their groans will not enter into my heart ; whomever I mischief, whomever I wrong, to me it is music, when to others mourning. Court. You see the man is a right Diabolonian, and has convicted himself. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Falsepeace to the bar. Falsepeace set to the bar. Mr. Falsepeace, Thou art here indicted by the name of Falsepeace, an intruder upon Falsepeace set the town of Mansoul, for that thou to the bar. didst most wickedly and satanically bring, hold, and keep the town of Mansoul, both in her apos- tasy, and in her hellish rebellion, in a false, ground- less, and dangerous peace, and damnable security,1 to the dishonour of the King, the transgression of his law, and the great damage of the town of Mansoul. What sayest thou? Art thou guilty of this indictment, or not? Then said Mr. Falsepeace, Gentlemen, and you, now appointed to be my judges, I ac- knowledge that my name is Mr. Peace, but that my name is Falsepeace I utterly deny. If your honours will please to send for any that do intimately know me, or for the midwife that laid my mother of me, or for the gossips that were at my christening,- they will any, or all of them prove 1 See the woeful end of such, in Ko. ii. 5 ; Je. vi. 11. — (Mason.) " The gossips at a christening reminds me of a singular cir- cumstance that took place at the christening of a friend's child about forty years ago. Our host rapped hard on the table, and said, ' Ladies and Gentlemen, I hear some talking politics, and some religion ; I beg you to recollect that we have nothing uo»v THE HOLY WAR. 818 that my name is not Falsepeace, bat Peace. lie denies bis Wherefore, 1 cannot plead to tbia in- came. dictment, forasmuch as my name is not inserted therein. And as is raj trne name, bo also are my conditions. 1 was always a man that loved ; > live at quiet, and what I loved myself, that I thought others might love also. Wherefore, when 1 saw any of my neighbours to labour under a dis- quieted :nind, I endeavoured to help them what I could, and instances of this good temper of mine many ] could give; as, I. When at the beginning our town of Man- rieada his good- s"l'l ''''' decline the w.ivs of Shaddai ; ness. they, some of thrm afterwards began to have disquieting reflections npon themselves for what they had done; hut I, as one tri them disquieted, presently sought out means to gel them quiet again. 2. When the ways of the old world and of Sodom were in fashion, if anything happened to molest those that were for the customs of the present times, 1 laboured to make them quiet again, and to cause them to act without molestation, o. To come nearer home, when the wars fell out between Shaddai and Piabolus, if at any time 1 saw any of the town of Mansoul afraid of destruction, I often used by some way, device, invention, or other, to labour to bring them to peace again,1 Wherefore, since I have always been a man of so virtuous a temper, as some say a peace- maker is, and if a peace-maker be so deserving a man as some have been bold to attest be is, then let me, gentlemen, be accounted by you, who have a great name for justice and equity in Mansoul, for a man that deserveth not this inhuman way of treatment, but liberty, and also a license to seek damage of those that have been my accusers, Then said the clerk, Crier, make a proclamation. Ckiicr. * 0 yes, forasmuch as the prisoner at the bar hath denied his name to be that which is mentioned in the indictment, the court reqoiretb, that if there be any in this place that can give information to the court of the original and right name of the prisoner, they would come forth and give in their evidence, for the prisoner stands upon his own innocency.' Then came two into the court and desired that Km vitneues tlu-y might have leave to speak what comemagaiiwt tluv knew concerning the prisoner at the bar; the name of the o Searchtruth, and the name of the other Vouch- truth. So the court demanded of these men if they knew the prisoner, and what they could Bay th politics or n I al a christening your glasses.' — (Ed.) 1 'There is do peace, saith my God, to the nicked.' Is. lvii. 31. Till convinced oi 1st becomes the sinnei there is no peace, no mercy, no hope, no heaven. — (Mason.) Alas! how many slumber into hell, under the misguiding in- fluence of false peace. — (El).) VOL. III. concerning him, for he stands, said thev, upon his own vindication. Then said Mr. Searchtruth, My Lord, 1 Court. Hold, give him his oath; then t1.. j him. So he proceeded.9 Search". My Lord, I know, and have known in from a child, and can attest thai his name is Palsepeace. I knew his father, his name wns Mr. Flatter, and his mother, before Bhewai married, Mas called by the name of Mrs. Soothup; and I \o. when they came together, lived not long without this son, and when he was ho in they e llled his name PalsepOOCe. I was his playfellow, only 1 was somewhat older than he; and when bis mother did use to call him home from his pi ■ used to Bay, Palsepeace, Palsepeace, come home quick, or I'll fetch you. Yea, 1 knew him when be sucked; and though 1 was then but littl I can remember that when bis mother did use to sit at the door with him, or did play with him in her arms, she would call him twenty times together, My little Palsepeace, my pretty Palsepeace, and 0 my sweet rogue, Palsepeace; and again, Omy little bird, Falsepeace ; and how do I love my child! The gossips also know it is thus, though lie has bad the face to deny it in open court. Then Mr, Vouchtruth was called upon to speak what he knew of him. So they Bware him. Then said Mr. Vouchtruth, My Lord, all that the former witness hath said is true; bis name is Falsepeace, the son of Mr. Flatter and of Mrs. Soothup hia mother. And I have in former time9 seen hi a angry with those who have called him anything else but Falsepeace, for he would say that all such did mock and nickname him, but this was in the time when Mr. Palsepeace was a great man, and when the Diabolonians were the brave men in Mansoul. Court. Gentlemen, you have heard what these two men have sworn against the prisoner at the bar. And now, Mr. Falsepeace, to you. you have denied your name to be Palsepeace, yet . that these honest men have sworn that this i- name. As tO your plea, in that you are quite the matter of your indictment, yo i b by it charged for evil doing, bee rase you man of peace, or a peace-maker among neighbours ; but for that you di 1 wi -kodly, and sa- tanically, bring, keep, and hold the town of .Mansoul both under its apoatacy from, and in its rebellion against its King, in a raise, lying, and damnable peace, contrary to the law of Shad lai, and to the ha/.ird of the destruction of the then mis F Mansoul. All that you liav< ■ \ inuTar circumstanre, in I iu the examination of the wit., testimony without heiug Bun van had seen at the 314 THE HOLY WAR. yourself is. that you have denied your name, Notruth to the bar. Mr. Notruth, thou art here indicted by the name ... . ,. of Notruth, an intruder upon the town ot Mansoul, tor that thou hast always, to the dishonour of Shaddai, and the endangering of the utter ruin of the famous town of Mansoul, bet thyself to deface and utterly to spoil all the remainders of the law and image of Shaddai that have been found in Mansoul, after her deep apostasy from her King to Diabolus, the envious tyrant. What asyest thou ? Art thou guilty of this indict- ment, or not? lib ,le* NOTBOTH. Not guilty, my Lord. Then the witnesses were called, and Mr. Knowall did first give in his evidence against him. Know. .My Lord, this man was at the pulling _ down of the image of Shaddai ; yea, Witnesses. .... , ,. . . . , , . " this is he that did it with his own hands. 1 myself stood by and saw him do it, and he did it at the commandment of Diabolus. Yea, this Mr. Notruth did more than this, he did also set up the horned image of the beast Diabolus in the same place. This also is he that, at the bidding of Diabolus, did rend and tear and cause to be con- sumed all that he could of the remainders of the law of the King, even whatever he could lay his hands on, in Mansoul. Clerk. Who saw him do this besides yourself? Hate. I did, my Lord, and so did many more besides ; for this was not done by stealth, or in a corner, but in the open view of all, yea, he chose himself to do it publicly, for he delighted in the doing of it. Clerk. Mr. Notruth, how could you have the face to plead not guilty, when you were so mani- festly the doer of all this wickedness ? Notruth. Sir, I thought I must say something, and as my name is, so 1 speak. I have r^r been advantaged thereby before now, and did not know but by speaking no truth I might have reaped the same benefit now. Clerk. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Pityless to the bar. Mr. Pitiless, thou art Pltylesg set t0 here indicted by the name of Pitiless, the bar. His . . „ A , . indictment. an intruder upon the town ot Mansoul, for that thou didst most traitorously and wickedly shut up all bowels of compassion, and wouldest not suffer Mansoul to condole her own misery when she had apostatized from her rightful King, but didst evade, and at all times turn her mind awry from those thoughts that had in them a tendency to lead her to repentance. What sayest thou to this in- dictment? Guilty, or not guilty? Not guilty of pitilessness ; all I did was to cheer-up, according to my name, for my name is not Pitiless, but Cheer- 13Pea- up ; and I could not abide to see Mansoul incline to melancholy. Clerk. How ! do you deny your name, and say it is not Pitiless but Cheerup ? Call for the wit- nesses. What say you, the witnesses, to this plea? Know. My Lord, his name is Pitiless; so he hath writ himself in all papers of concern wherein he has had to do. But these Diabolonians love to counterfeit their names; Mr. Covetousness covers himself with the name of Good-husbandry, or the like ; Mr. Pride can, when need is, call himself Mr. Neat, Mr. Handsome, or the like, and so of all the rest of them.1 Clerk. Mr, Telltrue, what say you ? Tell. His name is Pitiless, my Lord ; I have known him from a child, and he hath done all that wickedness whereof he stands charged in the 1 ' With names of virtue she deceives The aged and the young ; And while the heedless wretch believes, Jjlic makes his letters stroDg.' THE HOLY WiVL 3 1 5 indictment ; but there i> n company of them that aro not acquainted with the danger of damning, there- fore they call all those melancholy that liave serious thoughts [as to] how that state should Ite shunned by theni. Clerk. Set Mr. Haughty to the bar, jailer. nudity set to ^r" 1 1 aii!j,l . t \-, Thou art here indicted the w. lis by the name of Haughty, an intruder upon the town oi Mansoul, for that thou didst most traitorously and devilishly teach the town ofMansoul to carry it loftily and Btoutly against the Bummons thai was given them by the captains of the King Shaddai. Thou didst also teach the town of Mansoul to speak contemptuously and vilifyingly of their great King Shaddai; and didst moreover encourage, both by words and ex- ample, Mansoul to take up arms, both against the King and his Son Emmanuel. How sayest thou? Art thou guilty of this indictment, or not? Hatch. Gentlemen, I have always been a man of courage and valour, and have not His l'leiu , , , , . , used when under the greatest clouds, to sneak or hang down the head like a bulrush ; nor did it at all at any time please roe to see men vail their bonnets l to those that have opposed them ; yea, though their adversaries seemed to have ten times the advantage of them. I did not use to consider who was my foe, nor what the cause was in which I was engaged. It was enough to me if I carried it bravely, fought like a man, and came off a victor. Court. Mr. Haughty, you are not here indicted for that vou have been a valiant man, The court. - , nor for your courage and stoutness in times of distress, but for that you have made use of this your pretended valour to draw the town of Mansoul into acts of rebellion, both against the great King and Emmanuel his Son. This is the crime and the thing wherewith thou art charged in and by the indictment. But he mode no answer to that. Now when the court had thus far proceeded against the prisoners at the bar, then they put them over to the verdict of their jury, to whom they did apply themselves after this manner: — Gentlemen of the jury, you have been here, and Ti.e court to have seen these men, you have heard the jury. t]iejr indictments, their pleas, and what the witnesses have testified against them ; now Tliejun's what remains, is, that you do forth- tharge. with withdrawyourselves tosomeplace, where without confusion you may consider of what verdict, in a way of truth and righteousness, you 1 Bonnets or paps were commonly worn by men. 'To vail the bonnet ' was to take it off and bow, can in hand — equivalent to taking off the hat and bowing at the present day. ' As for vailing bonnet before great rulers.'— Holland's Pliny, b. xxviii. — (Ed.) ought to bring in for the King against them, an 1 s.i bring it in accordingly. Then the jury, to wit, Mr. Belief, Mr. True- heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hatebad, Mr. n„.v , ., Lovegod, Mr. Seetruth, Mr. Heavenly- UmoteHre* mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Humble, Mr. Goodwork, and Mr. Zeal-for-God, withdrew themselves in order to their work, Now when they were shut up by themselves they fell to discour c among themselves, in order tO the drawing up of their verdict. And thus Mr. Belief, for he was the foreman, began; Gentlemen, quoth he, for the men, the prisoners at the bar, for my part I .lv.r mnf(%r. believe that they all deserve death. enoe among Very right, said Mr. Lrueheart, I am wholly of your opinion, 0 what a mercy is it, said Mr. Hatebad, that such villains as tin )B6 are ap prehended ! Ay, Ay, said Mr. Lovegod, this is one of the joyfullest days that ever 1 Baw in my life. Then said Mr. Seetruth, I know that if we judge them to death, our verdict shall stand before Shaddai himself. Nor do I at all question it, said Mr. Ueavenlymind ; he said moreover. When all such beasts as these are cast out of Mansoul, what a goodly town will it be then! Then said Mr. Moderate, It is not my manner to pass my judg- ment with rashness, but for these, their crimes aro so notorious, and the witness so palpable, that that man must be wilfully blind who saith the prisoners ought not to die. Blessed be God, said Mr. Thank- ful, that the traitors are in safe custody. And 1 join with you in this upon my hare knees, said Mr. Humble. 1 am glad also, said Mr. Goodwork. Then said the warm man, and true-hearted Mr. Zeal-for-God, Cut them off, they have been the plague, and have sought the destruction of Man- sou 1.- Thus therefore being all agreed in their verdict, they come instantly into the court. CLERK. Gentlemen of the jury answer all to your names; Mr. Belief, one; Mr. Tbeyi Trueheart, two; Mr. Upright, three; Z^'Zu'.l Mr. Hatebad.four; Mr. Lovegod, five; Hum in guilly. Mr. Seetruth, six; Mr. Heavenlymind, seven; Mr. Moderate, eight; Mr. Thankful, nine; Mr. Hum- ble, ten; Mr. Goodwork, eleven ; and Mr. Zeal-for- God, twelve; good men and true, stand together in your verdict ; are you all agreed ? Jury. Yes, my Lord. CLERK. Who shall speak for you? JrjRT. Our Foreman. 2 There is in the renewed soal a sincere i sin. As the jury were unanimous in their rerdict, - Christians will moat cordially doom their I isti to death, fes, wiv Redeemer, tbejtuaD die, M\ hear) I iuat made my Sanour WeeuV— (Uurder.) 316 THE HOLY WAR. ClEWC. You the gentlemen of the jury, being impannelled for our Lord the King to serve here in a matter of life and death, have heard the trials of each of these men, the prisoners at the bar. What Bay you, are they guilty of that, and those crimes fur which they stand here indicted, or are thev not guiltv? The verdict. YoTSBUAN. Guilty my Lord. CLEEK. Look to your prisoners, jailer. This was done in the morning, and in the after- noon they received the sentence of death according to the law. The jailer therefore having received such a charge, put them all in the inward prison, to per- scrve them there till the day of execution, which was to be the next day in the morning. Lut now to see how it happened, one of the rncu'duii'y prisoners, Incredulity by name, in the breaks prison, interim betwixt the sentence and time of execution, brake prison, and made his escape, and gets him away quite out of the town of Man- soul, and lay lurking in such places and holds as he might, until he should again have opportunity to do the town of Mansoul a mischief for their thus handling of him as they did.1 Now when Mr. Trueman the jailer perceived that his friend ; and where should they meet one another but just upon Hell-gate-hill. But 0 ! what a lamentable story did the old gentleman tell to Diabolus, concerning what sad alteration Emmanuel had made in Mansoul.4 As first, how Mansoul had, after some delays, received a general pardon at the hands IIe tel]9 Diaboi. of Emmanuel, and that thev had in- «s what ti»- .... . . *'. , manuel now is vited mm into the town, and that trey doing in Man- had given him the castle for his pos- soul' ses'sion. He said, moreover, that they had called his soldiers into the town, coveted who should quarter the most of them ; they also entertained him with the timbrel, song, and dance. But that, said Incredulity, that is the sorest vexation to me is, that he hath pulled down, 0 father, thy image, and set up his own ; pulled down thy officers and set up his own. Yea, and Will-be- will, that rebel, who, one would have thought, should never have turned from us, he is now in as great favour with Emmanuel as ever he was with thee. But besides all this, this Will-be-will has received a special commission from his master to search for, to ap- prehend, and to put to death all, and all manner of Diabolonians that he shall find in Mansoul ; yea, and this Will-be-will has taken and committed to he had lost his prisoner, he was in a heavy taking, j prison already, eight of my lord's most trusty because he, that prisoner was, to speak on, the very worst of all the gang ; wherefore first, he goes and acquaints my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, and my Lord Will be-will with the matter, and to get of them an order to make search for him through- out the town of Mansoul. So an order Ko Incredulity found in Man- lie got, and search was made, but no such man could now be found in all the town of Mansoul.2 All that could be gathered was that he had lurked a while about the outside of the town, and that here and there one or other had a glimpse of him as he did make his escape out of Mansoul ; one or two also did affirm that they saw him with- out the town, going a-pace quite over the plain.3 Now when he was quite gone, it was affirmed by He is gone to one Mr. Didsee, that he ranged all over Diabolus. dry piacest till he met with Diabolus 1 The accuracy with which these criminal trials are narrated is surprising. The imprisonment, indictment, court, jury, witnesses, verdict, sentence— all is in the same order as if written by my Lord Chief Justice. What a contrast is here exhibited to the behaviour of the judge and jury in the trial of Faithful, in the ' Pilgrim's Progress 1' That was brutal, as the then Judge Jeffries; this dignified aud constitutional, as the present Judge Campbell. Thanks be unto God for so vest a reformation, clearly foreseen by Buuyan. — (Ed.) - \\ hat a blessed season ! no unbelief to be found at that time in Mansoul. Christian, call to mind the time when Christ led you into his banqueting-honse, and his banner over you was love ; you could find no unbelief then. Alas! the troubler makes his appearance again quite soon enough. — (En.) 3 Unbelief, that giant sin, was apprehended and condemned friends in Mansoul. Nay further, my lord, with grief I speak it, they have been all arraigned, con- demned, and, I doubt before this, executed in Man- soul. I told my lord of eight, and myself was the ninth, who should assuredly have drunk of the same cup, but that through craft, I, as thou seest, have made mine escape from them. When Diabolus had heard this lamentable story he yelled, and snufl'ed up the wind like Diab the K ry, that he shoul I draw up for Mr. Bxp rience a commis- ■"'" sion, to make him a captain over a thousand men, ami let it be brought to me, said hi . set too my seal So it was d i manded. The commission was drawn up, I to Emmanuel, and he Bet hi- Beal then t •. bodies, but crucifying the flesh, witi lint, indeed, out own native strength is insufficienl for I • »"« Spirit, therefore, ia introduced, ' If ye, through the Spirit, do mortify the dm ye shall live.'— vU;irder.) 31S THE HOLY WAR. by the Land of Mr. Waiting, lie sent it away to the captain.1 Now so soon as the captain had received his commission, he soundeth his trumpet for volun- teers, and young men come to him apace, yea, the greatest and chiefest men in the town sent their sons to be listed under his command. Thus Cap- tain Experience came under command to Em- manuel, for the good of the town of Mansoul. He His unJer-ofli- had for his lieutenant one Mr. Skilful, cers- and for his coronet one Mr. Memory. His under-officers I need not name. His colours were the white colours for the town of Mansoul, and his escutcheon was the dead lion and dead hear." 1 Sa. xvil 36, 37. So the Prince returned to his royal palace again. Now, when he was returned thither, the elders of the town of Mansoul, to wit, the Lord Mayor, ,, f the Recorder, and the Lord Will-be- i lie eiders or Mansoul con- will, went to congratulate him, and in special way to thank him for his love, care, and the tender compassion which he showed to his ever-obliged town of Mansoul. So, after a while, and some sweet communion between them, the townsmen having solemnly ended their cere- mony, returned to their place again. Emmanuel also at this time appointed them a day wherein he would renew their charter, yea, He rene«-s their wherein he would renew and enlarge charter. jt) men(}ing several faults therein, that Mansoul's yoke might be yet more easy. Mat. xi. 28- 3«. And this he did without any desire of theirs, even of his own frankness and noble mind. So, when he had sent for and seen their old one, he laid it by, and said, ' Now that which decayeth and waxeth old, is ready to vanish away.' He. via. 15. He said, moreover, the town of Mansoul shall have another, a better, a new one, more steady and firm by far. An epitome hereof take as follows : — ' Emmanuel, Prince of peace, and a great lover An epitome of °^ tne town °^ Mansoul, I do, in the iheirnewdiar- name of my Father, and of mine own tcr- i ■ ii clemency, give, grant, and bequeath to my beloved town of Mansoul: First, Free, full, and everlasting forgiveness of all wrongs, injuries, and offences done by them against my Father, me, their neighbour, or themselves. He.viii.12. Secondlv, I do give them the holy law, and my testament, with all that therein is contained, for their ever- 1 The happy effects of a Christian's experience are — a con- viction, by the Word and Spirit of revelation, of our insuf- ficiency, and Christ's all-sufficiency ; an insight into gospel mysteries; God's veracity, faithfulness, and immutability. — (Mason.) It should be noticed, that at this period of the Christian's life, experience is but a youvg gentleman. — (Ed.) 2 David, having determined to encounter Goliath, comforted himself with his past experience. ' Thy servant slew both the lasting comfort and consolation.3 Jn. xv. 8.-1 1 Thirdly, I do also give them a portion of the self- same grace and goodness that dwells in my Father's heart and mine. 2 Fe. i. 4. 2Co. vii. l. i Jn. iv. 16. Fourthly, I do give, grant, and bestow upon them freely, the world, and what is therein, for their good ; and they shall have that power over them, as shall stand with the honour of my Father, my glory, and their comfort ; yea, I grant them the benefits of life and death, and of things present, and things to come, l Co. m. 21, 22. This privilege, no other city, town, or corporation, shall have but my Mansoul only. Fifthly, I do give and grant them leave, and free access to me in my palace, at all seasons, to my palace above or below, there to make known their wants to me. He. x. 19, 20. And I give them, moreover, a promise that I will hear and redress all their grievances. Mat. vii. r. Sixthly, I do give, grant to, and invest the town of Mansoul with full power and authority to seek out, take, enslave, and destroy all, and all man- Ko man to cie ner of Diabolonians, that at any time, <«r kiUmgofsin. from whencesoever, shall be found straggling in, or about the town of Mansoul. Seventhly, 1 do further grant to my beloved town of Mansoul that they shall have authority not to suffer any foreigner, or stranger, or their seed, to be free No hist hM ariy in and of the blessed town of Man- grant by Christ, , .1 ... „ . oranylihertyto soul, nor to snare in the excellent actinthetouu privileges thereof. EP. iv. 22. But that of MansouL all the grants, privileges, and immunities, that I bestow upon the famous town of Mansoul, shall be for those the old natives and true inhabitants thereof, to them I say, and to their right seed after them. Col. iii. 5-9. But all Diabolonians, of what sort, birth, country, or kingdom soever, shall be debarred a share therein.' So, when the town of Mansoul had received, at the hand of Emmanuel, their gracious charter, which in itself is infinitely more large than by this lean epitome is set before you, they carried it to audience, that is, to the market-place, and there Mr. Recorder read it in the presence of all the people. 2 Co. ffi. 3. Je. xxxi. 33. This being done, it was had back to the castle gates, „, . , , ... , Their charter anu there fairly engraven upon the set upon their doors thereof, and laid in letters of CdSteSdte5- gold, to the end that the town of Mansoul, with all the people thereof, might have it always in their view, or might go where they might see what a blessed freedom their Prince had bestowed upon lion and the bear : he who delivered me from their paws, will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine.'— (En.) 8 By ' the holy law,' we are not limited to the ten com- mandments, but to the law and testimony — the whole revealed will of God. It as much embraces the new commandment as the ten. What a mercy that the soul in Christ finds in the law and covenant everlasting comfort and consolation. — (Ed.) THE TI01Y vVAR. siy them, that thoir joy might be increased in them- Bclves, and their love renewed to their great ami good Emmanuel. iv. »ui. 10. But what joy, what comfort, what consolation, joj renewed in think you, did now possess the hearts Manwral- of the men of Mansoul! The bells ringed, the minstrels played, the people danced, the captains shouted, the colours waved in tin- wind, and the Bilver trumpets Bounded, and the Diabolonians now were glad to hide their heads, for they looked like them that had been Ioiil; dead.1 ' When this was over the Prince sent again for the elders of the town of Mansoul, and communed with them about a ministry that be intended to establish among them, such a ministry that might open unto them, and that might instinct them in the tilings that did concern their present and future state.3 For, said he, you of yourselves, without you have teachers and guides, will not be able to know, and if not to know, to he sure, not to do the will of my Father. Je.x.23. ico nu. At this news, when the elders of Mansoul brought it to the people, the whole town came The common g< oU running together, for it pleased them thoughts. yreW, as whatever the Prince now did pleased the people, and all with one consent im- plored his Majesty, that he would forthwith estab- lish such a ministry among them as might teach them both law and judgment, statute and com- mandment, that they might be documented3 in all good and wholesome things. So he told them that he would grant them their requests, and would establish two among them, one that was of his Father's court, and one that was a native of J I an soul. lie that is from the court, said he, is a person of no less quality and dignity than is The HolySpirit. ,, , , | , , • " , , , my lather and 1, and he is the Lord Chief Secretary of my Father's house ; for he is, and always has been, the chief dictator of all my Father's laws; a person altogether well skilled in all mysteries, and knowledge of mysterii my Father, or as myself is. Indeed, he is one with us in nature, and also as to loving of, and being faithful to, and in, the eternal concern.-, of the town of Mansoul. And this is he, said the Prince, that must be your chief teacher, for it is he, and lie onlv, that 1 Well ma] the Christian exult in tie blessings of this Dew rid everlasting covenant, ' ordered in :ill things ;i. I lie world, life, death, things present, and things to come, all is ours, if we an.- Christ's. Tins charter was Bet upon the castle gates; may it be inscribed in indelible characters on our hearts, while every power of the son] is filled with joy, and while sin, abolished, shall hide its Ugly head 1 — (Barder.; - The ministry of the Holy Ghost, who alone ean open our understandings to behold the wondrous things oi God's law, or can teach you clearly in all high and supernatural things. i ni. i. s, c. He and be only it is that knows the ways and methods of my bather at court, DO] ean any like him show how thr heart ol iuv Father is at all times, in all things, upon all occasions, towards Mansoul; for as no man knows the things of B man, but that spirit of a man which \» in 1 im, so the things of my bather knows no man hut this bis bigh and mighty Secretary. Nor ean any, ih be, tell Mansoul how and what they shall do to keep theiu.-elves in the love of niv Father, ill also it is that ean bring lost things to your reinem- brance, and that ean tell you things to come. This teacher therefore musl of necessity bave khi eminence —both in your affections and judgment — before your other teacher. ita.Tiu.S6. His personal dignity, the excellency of bis teaching, also the great dexterity that be hath to help you to maki and draw up petitions to my Father for your help, and to his pleasing Umk-o. Ep.Yi.18J must lay obligations upon you to love him, (ear him, and to take heed that you L'liese bim not. h, a. ;. 11. 17, If. Ep. it. BO. This person can put life and vigour into all he says, yea, and can also put it into your I This person can make seers of you, and can you tell what shall he hereafter. Ac. ud. l". 11. By this person you must frame all your petitions to my Father and me, and without his adviee and counsel first obtained, let nothing enter into the town or castle of Mansoul, for that may disgust and grieve this uoble person, is. butt, lo. Take heed, 1 say, that you do not grieve this minister; for if you do, he may fighl against you ; and should he once be moved by you, to set him- self against you, against yon in battle array, that will distress you more than it twelve legions should from my Father's court he Bent to make war upon you. lint, as I said, if you shall luaikeii unto him. and shall love him; if you shall devote yourselves to his teaching, and shall seek to have COm and to maintain communion with him ; you shall find bim ten times better than is the whole world to any. Yea, he will shell ahl'oad the love of my Father in your hearts, and Mansoul will he the wisest and most blessed of all people. i Co. xiii. xIt. Da v. u the Bible ; who taketh of the things of .1. sua, an.! thi ■ unto us. ' lie shall teach you all things." .in. m\. 26. 'flunks be to God for an omnipresent, omniscii ( -(En.) ■ Here is a proper display of vena use of the ministry is solely' that the people mi) law and judgment, statute and commandment; that thej be documented in all things, i.r. furnished with vntlnx evi- i rtablish every d * Mark, reader, how Bunyan, a- the r. .-..It el leaching, had- the soul to enter direeify into common Holy Spirit. I ... 0 the blessedness of coma 820 THE KOLY WAR. Then did the Prince call unto him the old gentle- nan, who afore had heen tlie Recorder of Mansoul, Mr. Conscience by name, and told him that for- asmuch as he was well skilled in the law and Consciencem.de government of the town of Mansoul, a minister. an(j was a]so wen s^okex\, and could pertinently deliver to them his Master's will in all terrene and domestic matters, therefore he would also make him a minister for, in, and to the goodly town of Mansoul, in all the laws, statutes, and judgments of the famous town of Mansoul. And thou must, said the Prince, confine thyself to the teaching of moral virtues, to civil and natural duties;1 hut thou must not attempt to presume to he a revealer of those high and supernatural mysteries that are kept close in the bosom of Shaddai my Father, for those things know no man, nor can i.ny reveal them, hut my Father's Secretary only. Thou art a native of the town of Mansoul, but the Lord Secretary is a native with my Father; wherefore, as thou hast knowledge of the laws and customs of the corporation, so he of the things and will of my Father. Wherefore, 0 ! Mr. Conscience, although T have made thee a ministerand a preacher in the town of Mansoul ; yet as to the things which the Lord Secretary knoweth, and shall teach to this people, there thou must be his scholar, and a learner, even as the rest of Mansoul are. Thou must, therefore, in all high and supernatural things go to him for information and knowledge; for though there he a spirit in man, this person's inspiration must give him understanding. Jub xxxiii. 8. Wherefore, 0 ! thou Mr. Recorder, keep low and he humble, and remember that the Liabolonians that kept not their first charge, but left their own standing, are now made prisoners in the pit; be therefore content with thy station. I have made thee my Father's vicegerent on earth, in such things of which I have made mention before. And His power in thou, take thou power to teach them Mansoul. to Mansoul ; yea, and to impose them with whips and chastisements,2 if they shall not willingly hearken to do thy commandments. that cleaveth closer than a brother ! who ever liveth, and never slumbereth — always near, even in our hearts — able and willing lo help and save lo the uttermost. — (En.) 1 Having shown Mansoul that the secret of being the wisest and most blessed ot all people is to seek the teaching and communion of the Holy Spirit in the heart, he comes to human ministry, and probably draws his portrait from his pastor Mr. Gilford, or from his own conduct. How much is con- tained in the words, ' Moral virtues, and civil and natural duties !' Here is love to God, because he first loved us, with nil heavenly blessednesses; the whole armour of God, to fit us for the good fight; and the eternal reward of grace, and not of works: an inexhaustible fund for Christian training, — (Ep.) - '"Whips and chastisements. ' 'A wounded spirit who can bear?' ' Mcthought 1 saw as if the sub did grudge to give me light.' — Grace Aboundina, No. 187. — (En.) And, Mr. Recorder, because thou art old, and through many abuses made feeble, therefore I give thee leave and license 's ' ery* to go when thou wilt to my fountain, my conduit, and there to drink freely of the blood of my grape, for my conduit* does always run wine. * Thus doing, thou shalt drive from thy heart and stomach all foul, gross, and hurtful humours. It will also lighten thine eyes, and will strengthen thy memory for the reception and keep- ing of all that the King's most noble Secretary teacheth. lie. v. u. When the Prince had thus put Mr. Recorder (that once so was) into the place and office of a minister to Mansoul, and the man had thankfully accepted thereof, then did Emmanuel address him- self in a particular speech to the townsmen them- selves— 3 'Behold,' said the Prince to Mansoul, 'my love and care towards you. 1 have added, „. - . , J ' The Princes to all that is past, this mercy, to ap- speech to Man- point you preachers ; the most noble Secretary to teach you in all high and sublime mysteries; and this gentleman,' pointing to Mr. Conscience, 'is to teach you in all things human and domestic ; for therein lieth his work. He is not, by what I have said, debarred of telling to Mansoul anything that he hath heard and received at the mouth of the Lord High Secretary ; only he shall not attempt to presume to pretend to be a revealer of those high mysteries himself; for the breaking of them up, and the discovery of them to Mansoul, layeth only in the power, authority, and skill of the Lord High Secretary himself. Talk of them he may, and so may the rest A licence to of the town of Mansoul; yea, and may, Mansoul. as occasion gives them opportunity, press them upon each other, for the benefit of the whole. These things, therefore, 1 would have you observe and do, for it is for your life, and the lengthening of your days. ' And one thing more to my beloved Mr. Recorder, and to all the town of Mansoul. You must not dwell in nor stay upon anything of that which he hath in commission to teach you, as to your trust and expectation of the next world ; of 1 , i t c ^ ^ world to come the next world, 1 say, tor 1 purpose to promised to U'ive another to Mansoul, when this idI1S0U- 3 Reader, conscience is the teacher with authority as God's only vicegerent. Be guided by him in all things ; swerve not one jot or tittle from his dictates; especially, in your choice of a minister, examine him for yourself prayerfully and care- fully by the Moid (1 Tim. iii.) There are thousands of Dia- bolouiaus in the world, under the flimsy disguise of apostolical descent. "When you have made your choice, 'Esteem him very highly in love for his works' sake;' but do not puff him up with pride. One of Bunyan's hearers said io him, ' What an excellent sermon you have preached ;' to which he replied, ' The devil told me so before I left the pulpit.'— (Ed.) TIIF. HOLY WAR. : 1 with them is worn out, but for that you must wholly and solely have recourse to, ami make stay upon his doctrine, that is your teacher after the iirst order. Yea, Mr. Recorder himself must not look for life from thai which he himself revealeth ; his dependence for that must ho founded in the doctrine of the other preacher. Let Mr. Recorder also take heed thai he receive nol any doctrine or point of doctrine, that are not communicated to him by his superior teacher; nor vet within the pre- cincts of his own formal knowledge.'1 Now, after the Prince had thus settled things in the famous town of Mansoul, he proceeded to give to the elders of the corporation a lie girca ilicm . . r caution about necessary caution, to wit, now* they should carry it to the high and noble captains that he had, from his Father's court, sent or brought with him to the famous town of Mansoul, 'These captains,' said he, ' do love the town of Mansoul, ami they are picked men, picked out of ,,Kr(1 abundance, as men that best suit, and from common that will most faithfully serve in the virtues, i. n, i 1 • • i -rvi wars of bhaddai against the Diabo- lonians, for the preservation of the town of Man- soul. I charge you therefore, said be, 0 ye in- habitants of the now flourishing town of Mansoul, that you cany it not ruggedly or untowardly to my captains, or their men ; since, as I said, they are picked and choice men, men chosen out of many for the good of the town of Mansoul. I say, I charge you, that you carry it not untowardly to them ; for though they have the hearts and faces of lions, when at any time they shall be called forth Satan cannot to engage and fight with the King's ^';t.'Tas°"e foes, and the enemies of the town of ourselves may. Mansoul ; yet a little discountenance cast upon them from the town of Mansoul will deject and cast down their faces; will weaken and take away their courage. Do uot therefore, 0 my beloved, carry it unkindly to my valiant captains and courageous men of war, but love Words. , • i o l them, nourish them, succour them, and lay them in your bosoms, and they will not only tight for you, but cause to fly from you all tho.-e the Diabolonians that seek, and will, if possible, he your utter destruction. 1 Admirably judicious is this chai - ce. Its office is to compart; the heart and walk of the Christian with tin Word of God, and so to judge whether it be Rood or bad. ]t has do new doctrines to nveal; it is doI the legislator but the minister of the law, ever looking up to the Holy Spirit for his teaching. The office of conscience is one of great purity, yet it is Bubjecl to defilement, and must be purified by the blood of Christ. He. ix. 14. — (Burder.) -' \\ \ jp 1 1 fir the op Adams, and Burder, in their notes upon the ' Holy War,' 1 differ with them as to Banyan's meaning with regard to thi captains. All the eon mentators agree in interpreting the cap- tains to mean gospel ministers, and so giving nine i VOL- III. * If therefore any of them should, at anv time, be s'h k or weak, and BO not aide to perform that office Of lOYS which with all their hearts they an- willing tO do— and will do also when well and in health - Blight them net, in. i- despise them, hut rath* r strengthen them, and encourage them, though weak and ready to die. Be. ril 12; for th. v an fence, and your guard, your wall, your gates, your looks, and your liars. And although, when they are weak, they can do but little, hut rather need to he helped by you, than that you should then expect great things from them, yet when well, you know what exploits, what feats and . achievements they are able to do, and will perform for you. 'Besides, if they he weak, the town i f M cannot he strong; if they he strong, then Mansoul cannot he weak; your safety therefore doth 'lie in their health, ami in your countenancing of tin m. is. xxw. b. Remember also that if they he sick, they catch that disease of the tOWH of Mansoul itself.2 Be. to. •-'. l.Th. r. 14 'These things 1 have said onto you, h< • Love your welfare, and your honour. Observe then - fore, 0 my Mansoul, to be punctual in all I that 1 have given in charge unto you, and that in i only as a town corporate, and so to your ol and guard, and guides in chief, hut to you as you are a people whose well-being, as single p< I depends on the observation of the orders air' niandments of their Lord. ' Next, 0 my Mansoul, 1 do warn yon of that < : which notwithstanding that reforma- tion that at present is wrought among i ii i , ' you, you nave need to be warned about, remi i Wherefore hearken diligently unto nie. 1 am now sure, and you will know hereafter, that there are yet of the Diabolonians remaining in the town of Mansoul; Diabolonians that are Bturdy and implacable, and that do already while- I am with you, and that will yet more when 1 am from you, study, plot, contrive, invent, and jointly attempt to bring you to desolation, and BO to state-far worse than that of the Egyptian boi they are the avowed friend.- of Diabolus, tin (Miy Christian. Their names arc Boanerf Judgment, and Execution, and, under Emmanuel's n incut, Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and I u bj Emmanuel from his Father's court l i, guards, walls, gates, I i Boul.' If any one of th enter. If they mean miiiist. a ■ I trusting indeed to an arm of Qi - they were all popes, cardinals, arebbishi guard and defence Ii m lull or mi earth. ' E ■ labour iu vain that an 1 the city, the watchmen •U 322 THE HOLY WAR. look about you ; they used heretofore to lodge with their prince in the castle, when Incredulity was the Lord Mayor of this town. Mar. vii. 21, 22. But since my coming hither, they lie more in the out- sides, and walls, and have made themselves dens, and caves, and holes, and strong holds therein. Wherefore, 0 Mansoul, thy work, as to this, will be so much the more difficult and hard. Ro. vii. is. That is, to take, mortify, and put them to death according to the will of my Father. Nor can you Christ would not utterly rid yourselves of them, unless have us destroy y0u should pull down the walls of your ourselves, there- ^ ,, . . by to destroy town, the which 1 am by no means our sins. •willing you should. Do you ask me, What shall we do then ? Why, be you diligent, and quit you like men, observe their holds, find out their haunts, assault them, and make no peace with them. Wherever they haunt, lurk, or abide, and what terms of peace soever they offer you, abhor, and all shall be well betwixt you and me. And that you may the better know them from those that are the natives of Mansoul, I will give you this brief schedule of the names of the chief of The names of them, and they are these that follow : Soionianlm The Lord Fornication, the Lord Adul- Mansoui. terv> tne Lord Murder, the Lord Anger, the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord Deceit, the Lord Evil-eye, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Revelling, Mr. Idolatry, Mr. Witchcraft, Mr. Variance, Mr. Emula- tion, Mr. Wrath, Mr. Strife, Mr. Sedition, and Mr. Heresy. These are some of the chief, 0 Mansoul, of those that will seek to overthrow thee for ever. These, I say, are the skulkers in Man- soul, but look thou well into the law of thy King, and there thou shalt find their physiognomy, and such other characteristical notes of them, by which they certainly may be known.1 1 These, 0 iny Mansoul, and I would gladly that you should certainly know it, if they be suffered to run and range about the town as they would, will quickly, like vipers, eat out your bowels, yea, poison your captains, cut the sinews of your soldiers, break the bar and bolts of your gates, and turn your now most flourishing Mansoul into a barren and desolate wilderness, and ruinous heap. Where- fore that you may take courage to yourselves to A commission to apprehend these villains wherever you »olSan'se in find them, I give to you my Lord Mansoul. Mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder, with all the inhabitants of the town of 1 ' Physiognomy ' and ' characteristical ' are unusually hard words for Bunyan to use ; the meaning is that those Diabo- lonian skulkers cannot be so disguised as to avoid a prayerful scrutiny. The Word is the test. The aid of the Spirit is needlid; therefore must our prayer he, 'Search me, ami try me,' and crucify any of these Diabolonians, who, lurking in my soul, are enemies to its peace and happiness. — (En.) 2 Christian, mark well your duty not only publicly to put en Christ, but at the market-cross deny and crucify sin. The •*&£ Mansoul, full power and commission to seek out, to take, and to cause to be put to death by the cross,2 all, and all manner of Diabolonians, when and wherever you shall find them to lurk within, or to range without the walls of the town of Mansoul. ' I told you before, that I had placed a standing ministry among you, not that you have but these with you, for my four first captains „ . . . , More preacher?, who came against the master and lord if need be, for of the Diabolonians that was in Man- soul, they can, and if need be, and if they be re- quired, will not only privately inform, but publicly preach to the corporation both good and whole- some doctrine, and such as shall lead you in the way. Yea, they will set up a weekly, yea, if need be, a daily lecture in thee, 0 Mansoul ; and will instruct thee in such profitable lessons, that if heeded, will do thee good at the end. And take good heed that you spare not the men that you have a commission to take and crucify. ' Now as I have set out before your eyes the vagrants and runagates by name, so I will tell you that among yourselves some of them i ,. • . i m A caction. shall creep in to beguile you, even such as would seem, and that in appearance, are very rife and hot for religion. And they, if you watch not, will do you a mischief, such an one as at present you cannot think of. ' These, as I said, will show themselves to you in another hue than those under description before. Wherefore, Mansoul, watch and be sober, and suffer not thyself to be betrayed.'3 When the Prince had thus far uew modelled the town of Mansoul, and had instructed them in such matters as were profitable for them to know, then he appointed another day, in which he intended, when the townsfolk came together, to bestow a further badge of honour upon the town Another ivi_ of Mansoul ; a badge that should lege for Man- distinguish them from all the people, kindreds, and tongues that dwell in the kingdom of Universe. Now it was not long before the day appointed was come, and the Prince and his people met in the King's palace, where first Emmanuel made a short speech unto them, and then did for them as he had said, and unto them as he had promised. My Mansoul, said he, that which I now am about to do, is to make you known to the jjis speech to world to be mine, and to distinguish Mansoul. drunkard, in the presence of his companions, is to deny him- self, and to denounce the misery of his former indulgences ; and so of every class or grade of sinners. ' I'm not ashamed to own my Lord.' — (Ed.) 3 How needful a caution is this, lest we should be deceived by spiritual pride, self-righteousness, self-seeking, and super- stition ! — (Burder.) THE HOLY WAR. 32 3 you also in your own eves, from all false traitors that may creep in among you. Then he commanded that those that waited upon him should go and bring forth out of his treasury those- white and Blistering robea that White rol.es. B 6 1, said be, have provided and laid up in store for my Mansoul. So the white garments were fetched out of his treasury, and laid forth to the eyea of the people. Moreover, it was granted to them that they should take them and put them On, according, said he, to your Bias and stature. So the people were put into white, into tine linen, white and clean. B* xit 8. Then said the Prince unto them, This, 0 Man- soul, is my livery, and the badge by which mine arc known from the servants of others. Yea, it is that which I grant to all that are mine, and without which no man is permitted to see my face. Wear them therefore for my sake who gave them unto you; and also if you would he known by the world to he mine. But now! can you think how Mansoul shone? It was fair as the sun, clear as the moon, and terrible as an army with banners, ca. vi. The Prince added further, and said, No prince, That which dis- potentate, or mighty one of Universe, M'Situ, S'iveth this livery but myself; behold other people, therefore, as I said before, you shall he known by it to be mine And now, said he, I have given you my livery, let me give you also in commandment concerning them ; and be sure that you take good heed to my words. First, Wear them daily, day by day, lest you should at sometimes appear to others as if you were none of mine. Secondly, Keep them always white, for, if they be soiled, it is dishonour to me. Ec. ix. 8. Thirdly, Wherefore gird them up from the ground, and let them not lag with dust and dirt. Fourthly, Take heed that you lose them not, lest you walk naked, and they see your shame.1 Re. Ui. 2. Fifthly, But if you should sully them, if you should defile them — the which 1 am greatly unwilling you should, and the prince Diabolua would he glad if you would — then speed you to do that which is written in my law, that yet you may stand, and not fall before me, and before my throne. Lu. xxi. 36. Also this is the way to cause that I may not leave you nor forsake you while here, but may dwell in this town of Mansoul for ever. lie. \ii. is— 17. And now was Mansoul, and the inhabitants of it, as the signet upon Emmanuel's right hand ; where was there now a town, a city, a corporation i If by siu we lose the sense of being clothed with the gar- ments of solvation, how does the Mol led its nakedm m and rileness! '0 wretched man!' is the cry; the conscience is wounded, God dishonoured, and the Holy Spirit grieved. — that could compare with Mansoul —a town re- deemed from die hand and from the power of Diabolua— a tow,, that the i Shaddai loved, and that he sent Em- ' manual to regain from the prince of the infernal cave — yea, a town that Emmanuel loved to dwell in, and that he ohosc for bis royal habitation a town that he fortified for himself, and made Btron by the force of his army '. What -hall I sav \ Man- soul has now a most excellent Prince, golden captains and men of war, weapons proved, an l garments as white as snow. Nor are these benefita io he counted little hut great. Can the town of Mansoul esteem them so, and improve them to that end and purpose for which they are bestowed upon them \ When the l'liin'c li.nl thus completed the model- ling of the town, to show that he had great delight in the work of his hands, and took pleasure in the good that he had wrought for the famous and flourishing Mansoul, he commanded, and t! his standard upon the battlements of the , And then, First, He gave them frequent visits, not a day now but the elders of Mansoul must come to him, or he to them, into his palace. Now they walk and talk together of all the great things that he had done, and yet further promised to do for the town of Mansoul. 2 Co. vi. v:,. Thus would he often do with the Lord-Mayor, my ( -,.,.. , Lord Will-he-will, and the honest Bub- 1!,,; ""• ordinate preacher Mr. Conscience, and Mr. Recor- der. But 0! how graciously, how lovingly, bow courteously, and tenderly did this blessed prince now carry it towards the town of Mansoul! In all the streets, gardens, orchards, and other places where he came, to he sure the poor ,, should have his blessing and heiicdie- "' ' tion; yea, he would ki.-s them, and if they wen- ill, he would lay hands on them, and make them well. The captains also he would daily, y. a. times hourly encourage with his presence and goodly words. For you must know that a smile from him upon them would put more vigour, more life and stoutness into them, than would anything else under heaven. The Prince would now also feast them, and with them continually. Hardly a week would p a banquet must he had betwixt him and them. 1 Co. v. 8. You may remember that B01 fore we made mention of one feast that tie together, but now to feast them was a thing mors common ; every day with Mansoul wt now. Nor did he, when they returned to their 2 ' Blessed are thev which do hunger nnd thirst «"■ I teousness, for they shall be fifled.' A HM* &WB Jesus puU vigour and life into thf > 324. THE HOLY WAR. places, send them empty away, either they must have a1 ring, a2gold chain, a3bracelet, A. token of mar- riage. ['Thy a white stone, or something; so dear Maker is tliy huslmnd.'] was Mansoul to him now ; so lovely *Atokenofhon- was Mansoul in his eyes.5 3 a token of Secondly, When the elders and beauty, t i * A token of townsmen did not come to him, he would send in much plenty of provi- sion unto them, meat that came from court, wine and bread that were prepared for his Father's table. Yea, such delicates would he send unto them, and therewith would so cover their table, that whoever saw it confessed that the like could not be seen in any kingdom. Thirdly, If Mansoul did not frequently visit him as he desired they should, he would walk out to them, knock at their doors and desire entrance, that amity might be maintained betwixt them and The a.in^er of mm* If they did hear and open to him, wandering as commonly they would, if they were thoughts. , » J . , , J a . . at home, then would he renew his former love, and confirm it too with some new tokens and signs of continued favour. Re. m 20. Ga. v. 2. And was it not now amazing to behold, that in that very place where sometimes Diabolus had his abode, and entertained his Diabolonians to the almost utter destruction of Mansoul, the Prince of princes should sit eating and drinking with them, while all his mighty captains, men of war, trumpet- ers, with the singing-men and singing-women of his Father, stood round about to wait upon them! Now did Mansoul's cup run over, now J.'anEoul'sglorv. , . . . , . x did her conduits run sweet wine, now did she eat the finest of the wheat, and drink milk and honey out of the rock! Now she said, How great is his goodness ! for since I found favour in his eyes, how honourable have I been ! The blessed Prince did also order a new officer in the town, and a goodly person he was ; his name was Mr. God's-peace. Col. m. 15. This man was set over my Lord Will-be-will, my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, the subordinate Preacher, Mr. Mind, and over all the natives of the town of Mansoul. Himself was not a native of it, but came with the Prince Emmanuel from the court. He was a great acquaintance of Captain Credence and Cap- tain Goodhope; some say they were kin, and I am of that opinion too. Bo. xv. 18. This man, as I said, was made governor of the town in general, especially over the castle, and Captain Credence was to help him there. And I made great obser- 6 How blessed is the Christian who lives in the holy enjoy- ment of his high and heavenly privileges! Every day is" a t'east-dav, bringing fresh discoveries of grace and foretastes of glory.— -(Kd.) e This is a beautiful representation of the holy enjoyment of Divine things, when the soul is emancipated from sin, and tujoys a little heaven on earth. It is in Bunyan's Grace vation of it, that so long as all things went in Man- soul as this sweet-natured gentleman would, the town was in most happy condition. Now there were no jars, no chiding, no interferings, no un- faithful doings in all the town of Mansoul, every man in Mansoul kept close to his own employment. The gentry, the officers, the soldiers, and all in place observed their order. And as Hoiy conceptions, for the women and children of the Good thoughts, town, they followed their business joyfully, they wouid work and sing, work and sing from morning till night ; so that quite through the town of Man- soul now, nothing was to be found but harmony, quietness, joy, and health. And this lasted all that summer.0 [Chapter XII.] [Contents : — Carnal-secnrity prevailing in the town, a cool- ness takes place between the inhabitants and Emmanuel; who, being greatly offended, privately withdraws — Godly- fear, who detects the cause of his removal, excites the people to destroy Mr. Carnal-security — Measures are then taken to induce Emmanuel to return.] But there was a man in the town of Mansoul, and his name was Mr. Carnal-security.7 This man did, after all this mercy bestowed The story of Mr. on this corporation, bring the town of Carnal-security. Mansoul into great and grievous slavery and bond- age. A brief account of him and of his doings take as followeth : — When Diabolus at first took possession of the town of Mansoul, he brought thither with himself a great number of Diabolonians, men of his own condition. Now among these there was one whose name was Mr. Self-conceit, and a not- -.,... , , . Mr.Rt'lf-conceit able brisk man he was, as any that 111 those days did possess the town of Mansoul. Dia- bolus then perceiving this man to be active and bold, sent him upon many desperate designs, the which he managed better, and more to the pleas- ing of his Lord, than most that came with him from the dens could do. Wherefore finding of him so fit for his purpose, he preferred him, and made him next to the great Lord Will-be-will, of whom we have written so much before. Now the Lord Will-be-will being in those days very well pleased with him, and with his achievements, gave him his daughter, the Lady Fear-nothing, to wife. Now of my Lady Fear-nothing did this Mr. Carnal-securi- Self-conceit beget this gentleman Mr. 1>'S 01|slnal- Carnal-security. Wherefore there being then in Mansoul those strange kinds of mixtures, it was Abounding, No. 2o2 — ' I had strange apprehensions of the grace of God, so that I could hardly bear up under it ; it was so out of measure amazing, that I think if it had abode long upon me, it would have made me incapable of business.' — (Ed.) 7 Carnal security, or comfort and security iu the flesh, instead of livii-g on Christ by faith.— (En.) THE HOLY WAR. His qualities. hard for them in some oases to find out who were natives, who not; for Mr. Carnal-security sprang from my Lord Will-be-will by mother's side, though he had for his father a Diaboloniao by nature.1 "\\ all, this Carnal-security took much alter his father and mother; he was self-con- ceited, he feared nothing, he was also a very busy man ; nothing of news, nothing of doctrine, nothing of alteration, or talk of alteration, could at any time he on fool in Mansoul, but be Mire Mr. Carnal-security would be at the head or tail of it; but to ho sure he would decline those Heisahrayslbr t'iat M0 deemed the weakest, and BtOOd alwavs with them, in hit way of side. i. i i Btanding, that lie supposed was the strongest side. Now when Shaddai the mighty, and Emmanuel his Son made war upon Mansoul to take it, this Mr. Carnal-security was then in town, and was a great doer among the people, encouraging them in their rebellion, putting of them upon hardening of themselves in their resisting of the King's forces; but when he saw that the town of Mansoul was taken and converted to the use of the glorious Trir.ee Emmanuel, and when he also saw what was become of Diabolus, and how he was nnroosted, and made to quit the castle in the greatest con- tempt and scorn, and that the town of Mansoul was well lined with captains, engines of war, and men, and also provision, what doth he but slily wheel about also ; and as he had served Diabolus against the good Prince, so he feigned that he would serve the Prince against his foes. And having got some little smattering of Emmanuel's things by the end," being bold, he ventures himself into the company of the towns- men, and attempts also to chat among them. Now I low Mr. Camal- he knew that the power and strength S*E of the town of Mansoul was great, and MansouL t]iat ;t cou](| not ^ut |jC pleasing to the people if he cried up their might and their glory. Wherefore he beginneth his tale with the power and strength of Mansoul, and affirmed that it was impregnable. Now magnifying their captains, and their slings, and their rams; then crying up their fortifications, and strong holds; and lastly, the assurances that they had from their Prince that Mansoul should be happy for ever. But when he 1 Vices arc so disguised, that no merely human vigilance or sagacity can detect them lurking in the trails of .Mansoul ; hence the necessity of the cry, 'Search me, and trj God.'— En.) - 1 have not been able to find any illustration of I ing. It probably means, that without any inquiry into the state of Mansoul— its lost, helpless, hopeless, miserable, condition, ami its cry, Lord, save, 1 perish! I proud of the elevation of .Mansoul, considered it safe, without the trouble of prayer or watchfulness Mai it is that we examine premises before wc jump at conclusions, or take things by the end!— (Ed.; It is not grace (.'race uii|ir»v. el, that j.).. dangers. saw that some < f the men ,,f (he (own were tickled and taken with his disOOUTSe, he makes it hi- business, and walking from Btreel to street, house t * ' house, and man to man, he at last brought id to dance after his pipe; and to grow almost a. carnally secure as him i | talking they went to feasting, and from I t<> Bporting; and so to Home other matters. Now Emmanuel was yet in the town of Blansoul, and he wisely observed their doings. My Lord Mayor, my Lord Will-he-will, and Mr. Recorder, were also all taken with the word- of this tattling Diabolonian gentleman, forgetting that their Prince had given them warning before to take heed thai thi not beguiled with any Diabolonian Bleight. 11.- had further told them that the secur- ity of the now flourishing town of Mansoul, did not so much lie in her present fortifications and force, as in her so using of what she had, as might oblige her Emmanuel to abide within her c for the right doctrine of Emmanuel town of Mansoul should take heed that they forget not his father'.- love and his; also that they should so demean themselves as to continue to keep them- selves therein. Now this was not the way to f t! bolonians, and with such an one too as Mr. Carnal- security was, and to he led up and down by the nose by him.4 Tiny should have hear.; Prince, feared their Prince, loved their Prim have stoned this naughty pack to death, and to •!; care to have walked in the ways of their Prince's prescribing, for then should their peace bs as a river, when their righteousness had 1 ■ • the waves of the sea. Xowwhen Emmanuel perceived that,throu policy of Mr. Carnal-security, the heait : of .Mansoul were chilled, and abated in their practical love to him ;;' first, he bemoans them, and e their state with the Secretary, saying, 0 that my people had hearkened unto me, and j.,,,,, ,. that Mansoul had walked in myways! I would have feil them with the finest of the andwithhoneyout of the rock would 1 bavesusl them. 1%. IxxxL L& This done, he said in his heart. ■ Carnal-security, the offspring of Self-conceit ai I nothing, is one of cur must subtle enemies, and net mi our fortifications, or the doe. ; grace, is our duty and privilege; but all our trust must be iu our living anion to our ever-living ii 4 ' Ix;d by the nose ;' t<> disc be led with t inquiring thi •' A child in religion would aainrallj i | the time that be leal rendered h jury could have been found in I ways are not as our v. Thus 'the bitter comes before the n !- r.'— (Ed.) 326 THE HOLY WAR. I will return to the court and go to my place, till Mansoul shall consider and acknowledge their offence. And he did so, and the cause and man- ner of his going away from them was thus — The cause was, for that Mansoul declined him, as is manifest in these particulars, ThewavotMan- . * soul's backslid- 1. They left on their former way ot visiting of him, they came not to his royal palace as afore. 2. They did not regard, nor yet take notice that he came, or came not to visit them. 3. The love-feasts that had wont to be between their Prince and them, though he made them still, and called them to them, yet they neglected to come at them, or to be delighted with them. 4. They waited not for his counsels, but began to be headstrong and confident in them- selves, concluding that now they were strong and invincible, and that Mansoul was secure, and be- yond all reach of the foe, and that her state must needs be unalterable for ever.1 Now, as was said, Emmanuel perceiving that by the craft of Mr. Carnal-security, the town of Mansoul was taken off from their dependence upon him, and upon his Father by him, and set upon what by them was bestowed upon it; he first, as I said, bemoaned their state, then he used means to make them understand that the way that they went on in was dangerous. For he sent my Lord High Secretary to them, to forbid them such ways ; but twice when he came to them he found them at dinner in Mr. Carnal-security's parlour, and per- ceiving also that they were not willing to reason about matters concerning their good, J hey grieve the ° & ' Holy Ghost and he took grief and went his way. The which when he had told to the Prince Emmanuel, he took offence, and was grieved also, and so made provision to return to his Father's court. Now the methods of his withdrawing, as I was saying before, were thus, 1. Even while he was ,,. . . ... vet with them in Mansoul, he kept Christ with- J \ r drws not all himself close, and more retired than formerly. 2. His speech was not now, if he came in their company, so pleasant and fa- miliar as formerly. 3. Nor did he, as in times past, send to Mansoul from his table those dainty bits which he was wont to do. 4. Nor when they came to visit him, as now and then they would, would he be so easily spoken with as they found him to be in times past. They might now knock once, The working of ye& twice, but he would seem not at their affectum. aU to regar(i tiiem . whereas formerly, at the sound of their feet, he would up and run, and meet them half way, and take them too, and lay them in his bosom. 1 0 Christian, beware of the first step in backsliding! While you seek the Saviour's face, and walk humbly with God, you are safe. — (Ed ) But thus Emmanuel carried it now, and by his his carriage he sought to make them bethink then*- selves and return to him. But, alas! they did not consider, they did not know his ways, they re- garded not, they were not touched with these, nor with the true remembrance of former favours. Wherefore what does he but in private manner withdraw himself, first from his palace, then to the gate of the town, and so away from Mansoul he goes, till they should acknowledge their offence, and more earnestly seek his face, no. v. 15. Mr. God's-peace also laid down his com- mission, and would for the present act no longer in the town of Mansoul.2 Eze. xi 21. Thus they walked contrary to him, and he again by way of retaliation, walked contrary to them. Le. xxvi. 21-24. But, alas ! by this time they were so hardened in their way, and had so drunk in the doctrine of Mr. Carnal-security, that the depart- ing of their Prince touched them not, nor was he remembered by them when gone ; and so, of con- sequence, his absence not condoled by them. Je.ii. 32. Now there was a day wherein this old gentleman Mr. Carnal-security did again make a Atrick- put upon feast for the town of Mansoul, and »**. GodljMaar. there was at that time in the town one Mr. Godly- fear, one now but little set by, though formerly one of great request. This man old Carnal- security had a mind, if possible, to gull and debauch, and abuse as he did the rest, and therefore He goes to the he now bids him to the feast with his g* afktisl a neighbours; so the day being come st'a»ger. they prepare, and he goes and appears with the rest of the guests ; and being all set at the table, they did eat and drink, and were merry even all but this one man. For Mr. Godly-fear sat like a stranger, and did neither eat, nor was merry. The which when Mr. Carnal-security perceived, he pre- sently addressed himself in a speech thus to him : Carn. Mr. Godly-fear, are you not well ? you seem to be ill of body or mind, or both. Talk betwixt I have a cordial of Mr. Forget-good 's ^t^fe making, the which, Sir, if you will take Godly-fear, a dram of, I hope it may make you bonny and blithe, and so make you more fit for we feasting companions. Godly. Unto whom the good old gentleman discreetly replied, Sir, I thank you for all things courteous and civil, but for your cordial I have no list thereto. But a word to the natives of Man- soul— you the elders and chief of Mansoul, to me it is strange to see you so jocund and merry, when the town of Mansoul is in such woful case. Carn. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, You want sleep, good Sir, I doubt. If you please lie down and take a nap, and we, meanwhile, will be merry. 2 Christ and the Spirit, and consequently peace, withdraw from the carnally secure. — (Masou.) THE HOLY WAR. 817 Godly. Then said the good man as follows, Sir, if you were not destitute of an honest heart, you could not do as you have dune, and do. CARN. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Why ? Godly. Nay, pray interrupt DM not. It is true the town of Mansoul was Btrong, and. with a pro- viso, impregnable; hut you, the townsmen, have weakened it, and it now lies obnoxious to its foes; nor is it a time to Batter, or be silent. It is you, Mr. Carnal-security, that have wilily stripped Man- soul, and driven her glory from her; you have pulled down her towers, you have broken down her gates, you have spoiled her locks and hars. And now to explain myself. From that time that my Lords of Mansoul and you. Sir, grew so great, from that time the strength of Mansoul has been offended, and now he is arisen and is gone.1 If any shall question the truth of my words, 1 will answer him by this, and such like questions: Where is the Prince Emmanuel i When did a man or woman in .Mansoul see him i When did you hear from him, or taste any of his dainty bits ? You are now a feasting with this Diabolonian monster, but he is uot your prince. I say, therefore, though enemies from without, had you taken heed, could not have made a prey of you, yet since you have sinned against your Prince, your enemies within have been too hard for you. Carx. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Fie, fie, Mr. Godly-fear, fie ; will you never shake off your timorousness ? Are*you afraid of being sparrow- blasted ?'J Who hath hurt you ? Behold I am on your side, only you are for doubting, and I am for being confident.3 Besides, is this a time to be sad in ? A feast is made for mirth ; why then do ye now, to your shame and our trouble, break out into such passionate melancholy language, when you should eat, aud drink, and be merry ? Godly. Then said Mr. Godly-fear again, I may well be sad, for Emmanuel is gone from Mansoul. 1 say again, he is gone, and you, Sir, are the man that has driven him away ; yea he is gone without so much as acquainting the nobles of Mansoul with bis going, and if that is not a sign of bis anger 1 am not acquainted with the methods of godliness.' His speech to And now» mv 'ori^s aU(^ gentlemen — 11 '• elders oJ for my speech is still to you — yourfrra- dual declining from him did provoke, 1 ' Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit be- forestall.* Pr. xvL 18.— (Ed.) -' This is an obsolete term, alluding to a man being as much alarmed at the twitter of a sparrow, as at the blast of a trum- pet urging him to deeds of war. — (Ed.) '■'■ < 'arnal-security has got into the scorner's seat — a fearful state. Lord Erskine said, ' 1 r ye Dalton's doubts more than some men's certainties.' The late venerable Row- land Hill, when appealed to by one of those carnally-secure professors, said to him, ' Sir, as you have no doubts, then I shall both doubt if you and far you.' Doubts of the merits or willingness of Christ to save arc very sinful, and there are him gradually to deport from you, the which ho did for some time, if perhaps you would ban loade. sensible thereby, and have been renewed by humbling of yourselves; hut when be saw that Done would regard, nor lay these tearful beginnin his anger and judgment to heart, be weal awaj from this place, and this I saw with mini Wherefore now, while you boast, your Strength i- gOne, you are like the man that had |osl hlE that before did wave about his should' I - V . may with this lord ofyOUT feast shake yoUFSelvt I, aud conclude to do as at other times; but since without him you can do nothing, and he is depart* I from you, turn your feast into a sigh, and your mirth into lamentation.' Then the subordinate Preacher, old Mr. Con- science by name, he that of old WM Eb - . corderof Mansoul, being startled at what was said, began to second it tl. Con. Indeed, my brethren, quoth he, i fear that Mr. Godly-fear tells us true: 1, for my part, have not seen my Prince a long season. 1 cannot re- member the day for my part. Nor can [answer Mr. Godly-fear's question. I doubt, I am afraid that all is naught with Mansoul. Godly. Nay, 1 know that you shall not find him in Mansoul, for he is departed and gone ; yea, and gone for the faults of the elders, and for that they rewarded his grace with unsufferable unkind- nesses. Then did the subordinate Preacher look as would fall down dead at the table, also They are all all there present, except the man of the »&"»»'• house, began to look pale and wan. But hav- ing a little recovered themselves and jointly .. ing to believe Mr. Godly-fear and bis Bayings, they began to consult what was be.-t to be done (now Mr. Carnal-security was gone into bis withdrawing room, for he liked not such dumpish doings) both to the man of the bouse for drawing them into evil, and also to recover Kminanuel's love. And with that, that saving of their PrinOt very hot into their minds, which he had bidden them do to Buch as were i\d?<' prophets that should arise to delude the town of Mansoul. Ike* ooemlt So they took Mr. Carnal- security, i','.',1,, . concluding that he must be he, and seasons when the Christian rises above all doubts; but while we have a sinful heart of unbelief, doubts, like clouds, »nl arise to obscure the Sun of righteousness. — (Kw.) 4 Sin grieves the llolv .si>irit, and ■ hk lace, lu humhi.-, close walking n th God, - ■ comfort, and peace ; but departing from the L u ' Samson : Bee .lu. xvL ' lly-fear cannot be stupiued with Ponjei -" ri He is not' like the man who 'lost hi- ■ • So Samson, when hii hail » ■- Met Uii Shook hil vain limb* ■ ilade rseUle hglil, «nJ l"»t l»» . The garments too which Emmanuel had given them were but in a sorry case ; some were rent, some were torn, and all in a nasty condition; some also did hang so loosely upon them, that the next bush they came at was ready to pluck them off. Is. iii. u. After some time spent in this sad and desolate condition, the subordinate Preacher called for a day of fasting, and to humble themselves for being so wicked against the great Shaddai, and his Son ; and he desired that Captain Boanerges would preach.3 So he consented to do it, and the day was come, and his text was this, 'Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground?' and a very Boanerges doth smart sermon he made upon the place, preachto Man- First, he showed what was the occa- sion of the words, to wit, because the fig-tree was barren ; then he showed what was contained in the sentence, to wit, repentance, or utter desolation. He then showed also by whose authority this sen- tence was pronounced, and that was by Shaddai totter under a sense of the dreadful judgment of God.' — (Grace. Abounding, No. 164.) A miserable state for a warrior snr- ronuded by active enemies. — (Ed.) 3 Preaching captains were not uncommon in Bunyan's time; even Queen Elizabeth permitted lay preachers. Sir J. Cheke, the High Sheriff of Oxford, preached in his sheriff's gown and gold chain, in St. Mary's pulpit, at Oxford Univer- sity. If men of similar piety and talent would volunteer, it would not be a bad example for our gracious Victoria to follow. -(Ed.) THE HOLY WAPu 323 himself. And lastly, he showed the reasons of the point, and then concluded his sermon. But he was very pertinent in the application, iuso- ThcmenofMan- , , , i i, , Bonl much af- much that he made poor Mansoul fected. tremhle. For this sermon, as well as the former, wrought much upon the hearts of the men of Mansoul ; yea it greatly helped to keep awake those that were roused hy the preaching that went before. So that now throughout the whole town there was little or nothing to he heard or seen but sorrow and mourning, and woe.1 Now after sermon they got together and con- Tbey consult suited what was best to be done. But, what to do. sai(j tj10 subordinate Preacher, I will do nothing of mine own head, without advising with my neighbour Mr. Godly-fear. For if he had afore, and understood more of the mind of our Prince than we, I do not know but he also may have it now, even now we are turning again to virtue. So they called and sent for Mr. Godly-fear, and he forthwith appeared ; then they desired that he would further show his opinion Mr. Godly-fear's about what they had best to do. Then adnce- said the old gentleman as follovveth : It is my opinion that this town of Mansoul should, in this day of her distress, draw up and send an humble petition to their offended Prince Emman- uel, that he in his favour and grace will turn again unto you, and not keep anger for ever. When the townsmen had heard this speech, they did with one consent agree to his advice ; so they did presently draw up their request, and the next They send the was» "^ut wno sna^ carry it? at last Lord Mayor to they did all agree to send it by my Lord Mayor. So he accepted of the service, and addressed himself to his journey ; and went and came to the court of Shaddai, whither Emmanuel the Prince of Mansoul was gone. But the gate was shut, and a strict watch kept thereat so that the petitioner was forced to stand with- out for a great while together. La. m. 8. Then he desired that some would go in to the Prince and tell him who stood at the gate, and what his busi- ness was. So one went and told to Shaddai, and to Emmanuel his Son, that the Lord Mayor of the town of Mansoul stood without at the gate of the King's court, desiring to be admitted into the pre- sence of the Prince, the King's Son. He also told what was the Lord Mayor's errand, both to the King and his Son Emmanuel. But the Prince would not come down, nor admit that the gate should be opened to him, but sent him an answer to this effect: — They have turned the back unto me, and not their face, but now in the time of 1 Mansoul had withdra^Ti from a faithful ministry, and sat under the preaching of milder and unfaithful meii, but bucUy- fear having roused them to burn Carnal-security's house, they tlock to the awakening alarms of a faithful Boanerges. — (En.) VOL. III. their trouble they say to me, Arise and save us. La. iii. 44. But can they not now go to Mr. Carnal- security, to whom they went when they turned from me. and make him their leader, their lord, and their protection, now in their ^ iircadfui trouble? Why now in their trouble answer, do they visit me, since in their prosperity they went astray. Je. u. 27, 2& This answer made my Lord Mayor look black in the face ; it troubled, it perplexed, it rent him sore. La. w. 7, 8. And now he began again to sec what it was to be familiar with Diabolonians, such as Mr. Carnal-security was. When he saw that at court, as yet, there was little help to be ex- pected, either for himself, or friends in Mansoul, he smote upon his breast and returned The Lord Mayor weeping, and all the way bewailing the retums,anduow. lamentable state of Mansoul. Well, when he was come within sight of the town, the elders, and chief of the people of Mansoul went out at the gate to meet him, and to salute him, and to know how he sped at court. But he told them his tale in so doleful a manner, that they all cried The state of Man- out, and mourned, and wept. Where- soul now. fore they threw ashes and dust upon their heads, and put sackcloth upon their loins, and went cry- ing out through the town of Mansoul ; the which when the rest of the townsfolk saw, The whole towa they all mourned and wept. This, cast dowa- therefore, was a day of rebuke and trouble, and of anguish to the town of Mansoul, and also of great distress. After some time, when they had somewhat re- frained themselves, they came together xiey consult to consult again what by them was yet agan1, to be done ; and they asked advice, as they did before, of that Rev. Mr. Godly-fear, who told them, that there was no way better than to Mr. Godly-fear's do as they had done, nor would he advlCe. that they should be discouraged at all with what they had met with at court ; yea, though several of their petitions should be. answered with nought but silence or rebuke ; for, said he, it is the way of the wise Shaddai to make men wait and to exercise patience, and it should be the way of them in want to be willing to stay his leisure.2 Then they took courage, and sent again, and again, and again, and again ; for there See now what was not now one day, nor an hour that £ l backSding went over Mansoul's head, wherein a Baint awakened, man might not have met upon the road one or other riding post, sounding the horn from Mansoul to the court of the King Shaddai ; and ail with letters petitionary in behalf of, and for ... r J Groaning deure:;. the Prince s return to Mansoul. ilie 2 See Ps. xxv. 3; xxvii. 14; xxxvii. 7, LxLL 5. La. iii. 20. Io. xii. 6.— ^Lu.) 42 "30 THE HOLY WAR. road, I say, was now full of messengers, going and returning, and meeting one another ; some from the court, and some from Mansoul, and this was the work of the miserable town of Mansoul all that long, that sharp, that cold, and tedious winter.1 Now, if you have not forgot, you may yet re- member that I told you before that after Emmanuel had taken Mansoul, yea, and after that he had new modelled the town, there remained in several larking places of the corporation many of the old Diabolonians, that either came with the tyrant when he invaded and took the town, or that had there, by reason of unlawful mixtures, their birth and breeding, and bringing up. And their holes, dens, and lurking places were in, under, or about the wall of the town. Some of their names are, the Lord Forni- cation, the Lord Adultery, the Lord Murder, the Lord Anger, the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord Deceit, the Lord Evil-eye, the Lord Blasphemy, and that horrible villain the old and dangerous Lord Covetousness." These, as I told you, with many more, had yet their abode in the town of Mansoul, and that after that Emmanuel had driven their prince Diabolus out of the castle.3 Against these the good Prince did grant a com- mission to the Lord Will-be-will and Mansoul heeded , , , . „-r notber Prince's others ; yea, to the whole town ot Man- put his c™- soub to seek, take, secure, and destroy mission mto a„y or a\\ t},at tbey C0UjJ lay lianJs execution. . <• of; for that they were Diabolonians by nature, enemies to the Prince, and those that sought to ruin the blessed town of Mansoul. But the town of Mansoul did not pursue this warrant, but neglected to look after, to apprehend, to secure, and to destroy these Diabolonians. Wherefore, what do these villains, but by degrees take courage to put forth their heads, and to show themselves to the inhabitants of the town ; yea, and as I was told, some of the men of Mansoul grew too familiar with some of them, to the sorrow of the corpora- tion, as you yet wiH#hear more of in time and place.4 1 When roused from carnal security by godly fear, the soul feels, more than ever, the value and essential importance of prayer. Ko poor harassed sinner had experienced this dread state of uncertainly more than Bunyan ; a suspense like a sharp, a cold, a tedious winter to a poor man destitute of com- mon comforts. All these feelings are remarkably displayed in the Grace Abounding — ' 1 felt also such a clogging and heat at my stomach, by reason of my terror, that 1 was, especially at some times, as if my breast hone would have split asunder.' —No. 164. 'It was like the mark that the Lord God did set on Cain, even continual fear and trembling. Thus did 1 wind, and twine, and shrink under the burden that was upon me.'— No. 165.— (Ed.) 2 The apostle calls covctousuess 'idolatry.' Ep. v. 5. Col. iii. 5. It is a worshipping of mammon, and justly deserves the stigma which Bunyan puts on it — 'That horrible villain, the old and dangerous Lord Covctousuess.' His vigour in- creases with his age, contrary to other vices. — (LuJ [Chapter XIII.] [Contents: — The Diabolonians take courage from the depar- ture of Emmanuel, and plots are formed in hell for a counter-revolution in Mansoul — Covetousuess, Lascivi- ousness, and Anger, by changing their names, are intro- duced into respectable families, where they corrupt their masters, and do incredible mischief — An army of twenty thousand doubters raised to surprise the town.] Well, when the Diabolonian lords that were left, perceived that Mansoul had, through sinning, offended Emmanuel their Prince, and iheDiabolonians that he had withdrawn himself and Plot- was gone, what do they but plot the ruin of the town of Mansoul. So upon a time they met together at the hold of one Mr. Mischief, who also was a Diabolonian, and there consulted how they might deliver up Mansoul into the hand of Dia- bolus again. Now some advised one way, and some another, every man according to his own liking. At last, my Lord Lasciviousness pro- pounded whether it might not be best, in the first place, for some of those that were Diabolonians in Mansoul, to adventure to offer themselves for serv- ants to some of the natives of the town. For, said he, if they so do, and Mansoul shall accept of them, they may for us, and for Diabolus our Lord, make the taking of the town of Mansoul more easy than otherwise it will be. But then stood up the Lord Murder, and said, This may not be done at this time, for Mansoul is now in a kind of rage ; be- cause by our friend Mr. Carnal-security she hath been once ensnared already, and made to offend against her Prince ; and how shall she reconcile herself unto her Lord again, but by the heads of these men ? Besides, we know that they have in commission to take and slay us wherever they shall find us ; let us therefore be wise as foxes ; when we are dead we can do them no hurt, but while we live we may. Thus when they had tossed the matter to and fro, they jointly agreed that a let- ter should forthwith be sent away to Diabolus in their name; by which the state of the Tiay send token town of Mansoul should be showed lur advice- him, and how much it is under the frowns of their Prince ; we may also, said some, let him know our intentions, and ask of him his advice in the case.5 3 Converted persons have still the world, the flesh, and the devil to cope with — enemies without and within, lurking in the walls, in holes, and dens in Mansoul; but the Lord has promised to give grace and glory. Ps. lxxxiv. 11. — (Mason.) 4 Emmanuel gives a strict charge to destroy all Diabolo- nians, but this was neglected, and the consequence was that they became to Mansoul what the Canaanites were to Israel. 'If ye will not drive out the inhabitants of the laud from before you, then it shall come to pass, that these which ye let remain of them shall be pricks hi your eyes, and thorns in your sides, aud shall vex you in the land wherein ye dwell.' Nu. xxxiii. 55. — (Burder.) 6 Thus poor sinners are in league with hell against tick THE HOLY WAR. 331 jzy* So a letter was presently framed, the contents of which was this — 4 To our great Lord, the Prince Diabolus, dwelling bebiv in the Injernal Cave. ' 0 great Father, and mighty Prince Diaholus, We, the true Diabolonians, yet remaining in the rebellious town of Mansoul, having received our The copy of their beings from thee, and our nourishment letter. at jjjy hands, cannot with content and quiet endure to behold, as we do this day, how thou art dispraised, disgraced, and reproached among the inhabitants of this town ; nor is thy long absence at all delightful to us, because greatly to our detriment. 'The reason of this our writing unto our Lord is, for that we are not altogether without hope that this town may become thy habita- tion again ; for it is greatly declined from its Prince Emmanuel, and he is up-risen, and is departed from them ; yea, and though they send, and send, and send, and send after him to return to them, yet can they not prevail, nor get good words from him. ' There has been also of late, and is yet remain- ing, a very great sickness and faintings among them, and that not only upon the poorer sort of the town, but upon the lords, captains, and chief gentry of the place ; we only, who are of the Diabolonians by nature, remain well, lively, and strong, so that through their great transgression on the one hand, and their dangerous sickness on the other, we judge they lay open to thy hand and power. If therefore it shall stand with thy hor- rible cunning, and with the cunning of the rest of the Princes with thee, to come and make an at- tempt to take Mansoul again, send us word, and we shall to our utmost power be ready to deliver it into thy hand. Or, if what we have said, shall not by thy fatherhood be thought hest, and most meet to be done, send us thy mind in a few words, and we are all ready to follow thy counsel, to the hazarding of our lives, and what else we have. 'Given under our hands the day and date above written, after a close consultation at the house of Mr. Mischief, who yet is alive, and hath his place in our desirable town of Mansoul.' When Mr. Profane — for he was the carrier — Mr. Profane is was come with his letter to liell-gate- carrier, and he ..... . , , , , , brings the let- hill, he knocked at the brazen gates gaUuii. Hand for entrance. Then did Cerberus,1 there presents t]ie porter — for he is the keeper of that it to Cerberus, r * the porter. gate — open to Mr. Profane, to whom *s- own souls. May the Lord, by his Word and Spirit, break the horrid confederacy ! — (Mason.) 1 The gate-keeper of Pluto's palace in hell, with three heads, every hair being a snake ; supposed by some to represent the word, flesh, and devil ; or the consumer of mankind. — (Ed.) he delivered his letter which he had brought from the Diabolonians in Mansoul. So he carried it in and presented it to Diabolus his lord, and said, Tidings, my lord, from Mansoul, from our trusty friends in Mansoul. Then came together from all places of the den Beelzebub, Lucifer, Apollyon, with the rest of the rabblement there, to hear what news from Mansoul. So the letter was broken up and read, and Cerberus he stood by. When the letter was openly read, and the contents thereof spread into ail the corners of the den, command Dcadlnail,8 ^ was given that, without let or stop, w>d how to o went. Deadnran's bell should be rung for joy. So the bell was rung, and the princes rejoiced that Mansoul was like to como to ruin. Now the clap- per of the bell went, The town of Mansoul is com- ing to dwell with us, make room for the town of Mansoul. This bell, therefore, they did ring, because they did hope that they should have Man- soul again." Now, when they bad performed this their hor- rible ceremony, they got together again to consult what answer to send to their friends in Mansoul, and some advised one thing, and some another; but, at length, because the business required haste, they left the whole business to the Prince Diabolus, judging him the most proper lord of the place. So he drew up a letter as he thought fit, in answer to what Mr. Profane had brought, and sent it to the Diabolonians that did dwell in Mansoul, by the same hand that had brought theirs to him, and this was the contents thereof — ' To our offspring, the high and migldy Diabo- lonians, that yet dwell in the town of Mansoiu, Diabolus, the great Prince of Mansoul, toisheth a prosperous issue and conclusion oftliose 'many brave enterprises, conspiracies, and designs, that you of your love and respect to our honour, have in your hearts to attempt to do against Mansoul. * Beloved children and disciples, my Lord For- nication, Adultery, and the rest, we have here, in our desolate den, received, to our highest joy and content, your welcome letter, by the hand of our trusty Mr. Profane, and to show how acceptable your tidings were, we rung out our bell for glad- ness, for we rejoiced as much as we could, when we perceived that yet we had friends in Mansoul, and such a.s sought our honour and revenge in the ruin of the town of Mansoul. We also rejoice to hear that they are in a degenerated condition, and that they have offended their Prince, and that lie - As there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repentet,,, so likewise is there joy in hell over one backsliding saint. But almighty grace must prevail. O for watchfulness unto prayer ! — (.\Jason.) S32 THE HOLY WAR. is gone. Their sickness also pleaseth us, as doth also your health, might, and strength. Glad also would we be, right horribly beloved, could we get this town into our clutches again. Nor will we be sparing of spending our wit, our cunning, our craft, and hellish inventions, to bring to a wished conclu- sion this your brave beginning, in order thereto. ' And take this for your comfort, our birth and our offspring, that shall we again surprise it and take it, we will attempt to put all your foes to the sword, and will make you the great lords and cap- tains of the place. Nor need you fear, if ever we get it again, that we after that shall be cast out any more, for we will come with more strength, aud so lay far more fast hold than at the first we did. Besides, it is the law of that Prince that now they own, that if we get them a second time they shall be ours for ever. Mat. xii. 43-45. ' Do you therefore, our trusty Diabolonians, yet more pry into, and endeavour to spy out, the weak- ness of the town of Mansoul. We also would that you yourselves do attempt to weaken them more and more. Send us word also by what means von think we had best to attempt the regaining thereof; to wit, whether by persuasion to a vain and loose life, or whether by tempting them to doubt and despair, or whether by blowing up of the town by the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit. Do ye also, 0 ye brave Diabolonians and true sons of the pit, be ye always in a readiness to make a most hideous assault within, when we shall be ready to storm it without. Now speed you in your project, and we in our desires, the utmost power of our gates, which is the wish of your great Dia- bolus, Mansoul's enemy, and him that trembles when he thinks of judgment to come!1 All the blessings of the pit be upon you, and so we close up our letter. • Given at the pit's mouth, by the joint consent of all the princes of darkness, to be sent to the force and power that we have yet remain- ing in Mansoul, by the hand of Mr. Profane. — By me, Diabolus.' This letter, as was said, was sent to Mansoul, to the Diabolonians that yet remained there, and that yet inhabited the wall, from the dark dungeon of Diabolus, by the hand of Mr. Profane, by whom they also in Mansoul sent Profane comes theirs to the pit. Now when this Mr. home again. profane had made his return, and was 1 Satan renews his temptations with double force ; while lasciviousness, murder, aud mischief unite with him in cunniug devices to ruin the soul. Three means of destruction are proposed in hell : — 1. A vicious life ; 2. Despair of mercy ; 3. Prevailing pride. Either of these would prove our ruin, did not grace prevent. — (Burder.) Beware, (5 believer, lest a moment's want of watchfulness produce the bitter fruits of repentance 1 — (Ed.) -m come to Mansoul again, he went and came as he was wont to the house of Mr. Mischief, for there was the conclave, and the place where the contrivers were met. Now when they saw that their messenger was returned safe and sound, they were greatly gladed thereat. Then he presented them with his letter which he had brought from Diabolus for them, the which, when they had read and con- sidered, did much augment their gladness. They asked him after the welfare of their friends, as how their Lord Diabolus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub did, with the rest of those of the den. To which this Profane made answer, Well, well, my lords, they are well, even as well as can be in their place. They also, said he, did ring for joy at the reading of your letter, as you will perceive by this when you read it. Now, as was said, when they had read their letter, and perceived that it encouraged them in their work, they fell to their way of contriving again, to wit, how they might complete their Dia- bolonian design upon Mansoul. And the first thing that they agreed upon was, to keep all things from Mansoul as close as they could.2 Let it not be known, let not Mansoul be acquainted with what we design against it. The next thing was, how, or by what means, they should try to bring to pass the ruin and overthrow of Mansoul, and one said after this manner, and another said after that. Then stood up Mr. Deceit, and said, My right Diabolonian friends, our lords, and the high ones of the deep dungeon, do pro- pound unto us these three ways — 1. Whether we had best to seek its ruin by making of Mansoul loose and vain ? 2. Or whether by driving them to doubt and despair? 3. Or whether by endeavouring to blow Takeheed.Man- them up by the gunpowder of self- 60ul! conceit? Now, I think, if we shall tempt them to pride, that may do something ; and if we tempt them to wantonness, that may help. But, in my mind, if we could drive them into desperation, that would knock the nail on the head, for then we should have them, in the first place, question the truth of the love of the heart of their Prince towards them, and that will disgust him much. This, if it works well, will make them leave off quickly their way of sending petitions to him ; then farewell earnest solicitations for help and supply, for then this con- clusion lies naturally before them, As good do nothing as do to no purpose. So to Mr. Deceit they unanimously did consent. Then the next question was, But how shall we * Ignorance and carnal security, or idleness, are the strong- holds of sin in the sold. The more we study to become ac- quainted with Divine truth, and labour to show* forth the glory 1 of God, the safer and happier we must become. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. c>oo do bring this our project to pass? And it was Take heed, Man- answered by the same gentleman that *oM tins might bo the best way to do it : Even let, quoth he, so many of our friends as are willing to venture themselves for the promoting of their prince's cause, disguise themselves with ap- parel, change their names, and go into the market like far-countrymen, and proffer to let themselves for servants to the famous town of Mansoul, and let them pretend to do for their masters as benefi- cially as may be, for by so doing they may, if Mansoul shall hire them, in little time so corrupt and defile the corporation, that her now Prince shall be not oidy further offended with them, but in conclusion shall spew them out of bis mouth. And when this is done, our prince Diabolus shall Take heed, Man- prey upon them with ease ; yea, of soul! themselves they shall fall into the mouth of the eater. Na. Ui. 12. This project was no sooner propounded but was as highly accepted, and forward were all Diabol- onians now to engage in so delicate an enterprise; but it was not thought fit that all should do thus, wherefore they pitched upon two or three, namely, the Lord Covetousness, the Lord Lasciviousness, and the Lord Anger. The Lord Covetousness called himself by the name of Prudent-thrifty, the Take heed, Man- Lord Lasciviousness called himself by soul! the name of Harmless-mirth, and the Lord Anger called himself by the name of Good- zeal.1 So upon a market-day they came into the mar- ket-place— three lusty fellows they were to look on — and they were clothed in sheeps'-russet,2 which was also now in a manner as white as were the white Take heed, Jian- robes of the men of Mansoul. Now soul! the men could speak the language of Mansoul well. So, when they were come into the market-place, and had offered to let themselves to the townsmen, they were presently taken up, for they asked hut little wages, and promised to do their masters great service. Mr. Mind hired Prudent-thrifty, and Mr. Godly- fear hired Goodzeal. True, this fellow Harmless- mirth did hang a little in hand, and could not so soon get him a master as the other did, because the town of Mansoul wa3 now in Lent ; 3 but after a while, because Lent was almost out, the Lord Will-be-will hired Harmless-mirth to be both his Take heed, Man- waiting-man and his lacquey, and thus suuJ 1 t}jey g0t them masters. These villains now being got thus far into the houses of the men of Mansoul, quickly began to do great mischief therein ; for being filthy, arch, and sly, they quickly corrupted the families where they were; yea, they tainted their masters much, especially this Prudent-thrifty, and him they call Harmless-mirth. True, he that went under the vizor of Goodzeal, was not so well liked of his master, for he quickly found that he was but a counterfeit rascal ;4 the which when the fellow per- ceived, with speed he made his escape from the house, or I doubt not but his master had hanged him. Well, when these vagabonds had thus far car- ried on their design, and had corrupted the town as much as they could, in the next place they con- sidered with themselves at what time their prince Diabolus without, and themselves within the town, should make an attempt to seize upon Mansoul ; and they all agreed upon this, that a market-day would be best for that work. For why? a day of worldly Then will the townsfolk be busy in cu,nl)er- their ways. And always take this for a rule, When people are most busy in the world, they least fear a surprise.5 We also then, said they, shall be able with less suspicion to gather ourselves together for the work of our friends and lords ; yea, and in such a day, if we shall attempt our work, and miss it, we may, when they jake heed, Man- shall give us the rout, the better hide sou11 ourselves in the crowd, and escape. These things being thus far agreed upon by them, they wrote another letter to Diabolus, and sent it by the hand of Mr. Profane, the contents of which were this — ' The Lords of Looseness send to the great and ldrjh Diabolus, from our dens, caves, Look t0 jt> Man- holes, and strong-holds, in and about 60uil the wail of the town of Mansoul, greeting : ' Our great lord, and the nourisher of our lives, Diabolus ; how glad we were when we heard of your fatherhood's readiness to comply with us, and help forward our design in our attempts to ruin Mansoul ! None can tell but those who, as we do, set themselves against all appearance of good, when and wheresoever we find it. Ro. vii 21. Ga. v. 17. 1 "Well may our pious author reiterate the caution — 'Take heed, Mansoul !' Vices in the disguise of virtues are espe- cially dangerous. So when the pilgrims were led astray, aud entangjed in a net, by a black man in white raiment, they said, ' We did not imagine that this fine-spoken man had been the flatterer.' P. 151.— (Ed.) 2 Coarse, home-spun, brown woollen cloth. — (Ed.) 3 Bunyau does not pretend to fast forty days; aud he shows the evils of Lent, because, after so long a fast, there was a need of mirth ; aud thus Lord Laeiviousness, alias Harmless-mirth, is hired, and soon produces great mischief. "Who can tell the miseries that have followed E;:ster festivities, after Lenten hypocrisies ? — (Ed.) 4 A reckless, profligate fellow; under the disguise of good zeal. — (Ed.) 6 By a market-day is meant any time when the affairs of this world most occupy the mind: a honey-moon, birthdays, or other periods of rejoicing— as Christmas or Twelfth-day ; and on times when deeply occupied with the cares of lift . These are the times for Satan's attacks. Take heed then, Mansoul; while diligent in business, be fervent in spirit, watching unto prayer.— (Ed.) 83* THE HOLY WAll. « Touching the encouragement that your great- ness is pleased to give us to continue to devise, contrive, and study the utter desolation of Man- soul, that we are not solicitous about, for we know right well that it cannot but be pleasing and pro- fitable to us to see our enemies, and them that seek our lives, to die at our feet or fly before us. We therefore are still contriving, and that to the best of our cunning, to make this work most facde and easy to your lordships, and to us. •First, we considered of that most hellishly- Look to it, Mail- cunning, compacted, threefold project, S(juJ! that by you was propounded to us in your last ; and have concluded, that though to blow them up with the gunpowder of pride would do well, and to do it by tempting them to be loose and vain will help on ; yet to contrive to bring them into the gulf of desperation, we think, will do best of all. Now we, who are at your beck,, have thought of two ways to do this: — First, we, for our parts, will make them as vile as we can ; and then you with us, at a time appointed, shall be ready to fall upon them with the utmost force. And, of all the nations that are at your whistle, we think that an army of Doubters may be the most likely to attack and overcome the town of Take heed, Mau- Mansoul.1 Thus shall we overcome these enemies ; else the pit shall open her mouth upon them, and desperation shall thrust them down into it. We have also, to effect this so much by us desired design, sent already three of our trusty Diabolonians among them ; they are disguised in garb, they have changed their names, and are now accepted of them ; to wit, Covetous- ness, Lasciviousness, and Anger. The name of Covetousness is changed to Prudent-thrifty ; and him Mr. Mind has hired, and is almost become as bad as our friend. Lasciviousness has changed his name to Harmless-mirth, and he is got to be the Lord Will-be-will's lacquey, but he has made his master very wanton. Anger changed his name into Goodzeal, and was entertained by Mr. Godly- fear, but the peevish old gentleman took pepper in the nose, and turned our companion out of his house.2 Nay, he has informed us since that he ran away from him, or else his old master had hanged him up for his labour. ' Now these have much helped forward our work Look to it, Man- and design upon Mansoul ; for not- 80Ul1 withstanding the spite and quarrel- some temper of the old gentleman last mentioned, 1 This scheme is contrived with consummate skill. First let the Christian be drawn into a light, vain, worldly walk — ' .Make him as vile as you can;' and then assanlt him with doubts and fears about his salvation. — (Burder.) ' Look to it ; tiike heed, Mausoull' — (Ld.) 2 'Took pepper iu the nose.' Godly-fear was easily excited, and quickly saw the disguise which Anger had put on, and ' the other two ply their business well, and are like to ripen the work apace ' Our next project is, that it be concluded that you come upon the town upon a market-day, and that when they are upon the heat of Take heed, Man- their business ; for then to be sure they souU will be most secure, and least think that an assault will be made upon them. They will also at such a time be less able to defend themselves, and to offend you in the prosecution of our design. And we, your trusty, and we are sure your beloved ones, shall, when you shall make your furious assault without, be ready to second the business within. So shall we, iu all likelihood, be able to put Mansoul to utter confusion, and to swallow them up before they can come to themselves. If your serpentine heads, most subtle dragons, and our highly esteemed lords can find out a better way than this, let us quickly know your minds. ' To the Monsters of the Infernal Cave, from the house of Mr. Mischief in Mansoul, by the hand of Mr. Profane.' Now all the while that the raging runagates, and hellish Diabolonians were thus contriving the ruin of the town of Mansoul, they, to wit, the poor town itself, was in a sad and woeful The sad state of case; partly because they had so Mansoul grievously offended Shaddai and his Son, and partly because that the enemies thereby got strength within them afresh, and also because though they had by many petitions made suit to the Prince Emmanuel, and to his Father Shaddai, by him, for their pardon and favour, yet, hitherto, obtained they not one smile ; but contrariwise, through the craft and subtlety of the domestic Diabolonians, their cloud was made to grow blacker and blacker, and their Emmanuel to stand at further distance. The sickness also did still greatly rage in Man- soul, both among the captains and the inhabitants of the town ; their enemies and their enemies only were now lively and strong, and like to become the head, whilst Mansoul was made the tail.3 By this time, the letter last mentioned, that was written by the Diabolonians that yet lurked in the town of Mansoul, was conveyed to Diabolus in the black den, by the hand of Mr. Pro- pr0fane arrives fane. He carried the letter by Hell- at Uell-gate-hilL gate-hill, as before, and conveyed it by Cerberus to his lord. turned him out neck and crop. This proverb was often used in Banyan's time ; thus — ' For every man takes pepper i' the nose For the waggynge of a straw e, God knowse. With every wavervnge wynd that blowese.' (Elderten's Lenten Stuffe, 1570.)— (Ed.) 3 Backsliding from God naturally produces clouds that grow blacker and blacker as corruptions grow stronger and stronger ; grace in the sold becomes sick and weakly. — (Burder.) THE HOLY WAR. 33! But when Cerberus and Mr. Profane did meet, they were presently as great as beggars, and tints they fell into discuur.se about Mansoul, and about the project against her. Cerb. Ah ! old friend, quoth Cerberus, art thou come to Hell-gate-hill again! By St. Mary,1 1 am glad to see thee. Prof. Yes, my lord, I am come again about the concerns of the town of Mansoul. Talk between CERB. Prithee, tell me what con- Irim and (At- dition is that town of Mansoul in at present ? Prof. In a brave condition, my lord, for us, and for my lords, the lords of this place I trow, fur they are greatly decayed as to godliness, and that is as well as our heart can wish;-' their Lord is greatly out with them, and that doth also please us well. We have already also a foot in their dish," for our Diabolonian friends are laid in their bosoms, and what do we lack but to be masters of the place. Besides, our trusty friends in Mansoul are daily plotting to betray it to the lords of this town ; also the sickness rages bitterly among them,4 and that which makes up all, we hope at last to prevail. Cerb. Then said the Dog of Ilellgate, No time like this to assault them ; 1 wish that the enterprise be followed close, and that the success desired may be soon effected. Yea, I wish it for the poor Dia- bolonians' sakes, that live in the continual fear of their lives in that traitorous town of Mansoul. Prof. The contrivance is almost finished, the lords in Mansoul that are Diabolonians are at it day and night, and the other are like silly doves, they want heart to be concerned with their state, and to consider that ruin is at hand. Besides, you may, yea, must think, when you put all things together, that there are many reasons that prevail with Diabolus to make what haste he can. Cerb. Thou hast said as it is, I am glad things are at this pass. Go in, my brave Profane, to my lords, they will give thee for thy welcome as good a coranto s as the whole of this kingdom will afford. 1 have sent thy letter in already. Then Mr. Profane went into the den, and his Profane'? enter- Lord Diabolus met him, and saluted tamment. liim with, Welcome, my trusty servant, I have been made glad with thy letter. The rest of the lords of the pit gave him also their saluta- tions. Then Profane, after obeisance made to them 1 This is one of those shrewd hits which abound in Bunyan's works. The devil swears by the mother ot God, ' Saint Mary ' — a singular mode of connecting his Satanic majesty and Popery, by his using a common popish oath. — (Ln.) - In the same proportion as siu is encouraged, the ordin- ances, ways, and will of God will be neglected. — (Mason.) 8 To get a loot iu, or footing, is to gain admittance. ' A foot in their dish ' is the further familiarity of eating aud drinking together. — (Ln.) all, said, Let Mansoul be given to my Lord Dia- bolus, and let him be her king for ever. And with that the hollow belly and yawning gorge of hell gave so loud and hideous a groan — for that is the music of that place — that it made the mountains about it totter, as if they would fall in pieces. Now after they had read and considered the letter, they consulted what answer to return, and the first that did speak to it was Lucifer. LUCIF. Then said he, The first project of the Diabolonians in Mansoul is like to be They consult lucky, and to take; to wit, that they J^urSE will by all the ways and means they letter- can, make Mansoul yet more vile and filthy; n<> way to destroy a soul like this; this is probation est. Our old friend Balaam went this way and pro- spered many years ago; let this therefore stand with us for a maxim, and be to Dia- bolonians for a general rule in all ages, for nothing can make this to fail but grace, in which 1 would hope that this town has no share. Nu. x.wi. ie. Ke. ii. u. But whether to fall upon them on a market-day, because of their cum- ctunbermenta ber in busiuess, that I would should be "■ ^lw™^- under debate. And there is more reason why this head should be debated, than why some other should ; because upon this will turn the whole of what we shall attempt. If we time not our busi- ness well, our whole project may fail. Our friends the Diabolonians say that a market-day is best, for then will Mansoul be most busy, and have fewest thoughts of a surprise. But what if also they should double their guards on xiicv bad need those days — and methinks nature and ll° lL reason should teach them to do it — and what it they should keep such a watch on those days as the necessity of their present case doth require I Yea, wdiat if their men should be always in arms on those days? Then you may, my lords, be dis- appointed in your attempts, and may bring our friends in the town to utter danger of unavoidable ruin. Beel. Then said the great Beelzebub, There is something in what my lord hath said, but his con- jecture may or may not fall out. Nor hath my lord laid it down as that which must not be re- ceded from, for I know that he said it only to provoke to a warm debate thereabout. Therefore we mutt understand, if we can, whether the town 4 The immoral contagion had spread; evil thoughts abounded. ' For this cause many are sickly among you.' 1 Co. ri. 30. — (Ed.) 0 A swift and lively, but disorderly dance. The prospect of the misery and destruction of -Mansoul set all the devils a-daucing. ' Wherein that dancer greatest praise liatli won Which with best order can all order shun. — (su- J.il.n Danes.) Where could Bunyan have picked up this very expressive but rare word?— (Kd*^ 336 THE HOLY WAR. of Mansoul have sucli sense and knowledge of her A lesson for decayed state, and of the design that Christians. we }iave on f00t against her, as doth provoke her to set watch and ward at her gates, and to double them on market-days. But if, after inquiry made, it shall he found that they are asleep, then any day will do, but a market-day is best; and this is my judgment in this case. Diab. Then quoth Diabolus, How should we know this ? And it was answered, Inquire about it at the mouth of Mr. Profane. So Profane was called in and asked the question, and he made his answer as follows — Pkof. My lords, so far as I can gather, this is iYofane's descrip- at present the condition of the town St***** of Mansoul. They are decayed in Mansoui. their faith and love ; Emmanuel their Prince has given them the back ; x they send often by petition to fetch him again, but he maketh not haste to answer their request, nor is there much reformation among them. Diab. I am glad that they are backward to a reformation, but yet I am afraid of their petition- ing. However, their looseness of life is a sign that there is not much heart in what they do, and without the heart things are little worth. But go on, my masters, I will divert you, my lords, no longer. Beel. If the case be so with Mansoul, as Mr. Profane has described it to be, it will be no great matter what day we assault it ; not their prayers nor their power will do them much service. Apoll. When Beelzebub had ended his oration, then Apollvou did begin. My opinion, said he, concerning this matter is, that we go on fair and softly, not doing things in a hurry. Let our friends in Mansoul go on still to pollute and defile it, by seeking to draw it yet more into sin, for there is nothing like sin to devour Mansoul.2 If Dreadful advice tms De done, and it takes effect, Man- agamst Man- soul of itself will leave off to watch, to 60UL . . ' petition, or anything else that should tend to her security and safety ; for she will forget her Emmanuel, she will not desire his company, and can she be gotten thus to live, her Prince will not come to her in haste. Our trusty friend, Mr. Carnal-security, witli one of his tricks, did drive him out of the town, and why may not my Lord Covetousness, and my Lord Lasciviousness, by what they may do, keep him out of the town ? And this I will tell you, not because you know it not, that two or three Diabolonians, if entertained and countenanced by the town of Mansoul, will do 1 To back a friend, is to support Li m. To turn the back upon him, or give him the back, is to desert him. — (Ed.) 3 Although Satan is the father of lies, he certainly speaks truth here. Sin will do more hurt to the sold than a leiiion of devils. — (Burder.) more to the keeping of Emmanuel from them, and towards making of the town of Mansoul your own, than can an army of a legion that should be sent out from us to withstand him. Let, therefore, this first project that our friends in Mansoul have set on foot, be strongly _ ., , , . . ° J Dreadful advice and diligently carried on with all cun- against Man- ning and craft imaginable ; and let them send continually, under one guise or another, more and other of their men to play with the people of" Mansoul; and then, perhaps, we shall not need to be at the charge of making a war upon them ; or if that must of necessity be done, yet the more sinful they are, the more unable, to be sure, they will be to resist us, and then the more easily we shall overcome them. And besides, suppose — and that is the worst that can be supposed — that Em- manuel should come to them again, why may not the same means, or the like, drive him from them once more ? Yea, why may he not by their lapse into that sin again, be driven from them for ever, for the sake of which he was at the first driven from them for a season ? And if this should hap- pen, then away go with him his rams, his slings, his captains, his soldiers, and he leaveth Mansoul naked and bare. Yea, will not this town, when she sees herself utterly forsaken of her Prince, of her own accord open her gates again Dreadful advice unto you, and make of you as in the against Man- days of old ? But this must be done by time ; a few days will not effect so great a work as this.3 So soon as Apollyon had made an end of speak- ing, Diabolus began to blow out his own malice, and to plead his own cause ; and he said, My lords and powers of the cave, my true and trusty friends, I have with much impatience, as becomes me, given ear to your long and tedious orations. But my furious gorge and empty paunch so lusteth after a repossession of my famous town of Mansoul, that, whatever comes out, I can wait no longer to see the events of lingering projects. I must, and that without further delay, seek by all means I can to fill my insatiable gulf with the soul and body of the town of Mansoul.4 Therefore, Look to it, lend me your heads, your hearts, and Mansoul. your help, now I am going to recover my town of Mansoul. When the lords and princes of the pit saw the flaming desire that was in Diabolus to devour the miserable town of Mansoul, they left off to raise any more objections, but consented to lend him 3 Here again we have Satan telling truth. — (Ed.) Apos- tacy is generally a gi adual affair ; a sure poison, but slow. — (Burder.) 4 Satan's malice is like a throat and stomach — ' insatiable.' He seeks to fill it with the souls and bodies of men ; but his torment is, that it is a gulf bottomless and for ever insatiable. THE HOLY WAR. 337 what strength they could ; though, had Apollyon's advice hcen taken, they had far iuore fearfully distressed the town of Mansoul. But, I say, they were willing to lend him what strength they could, not knowing what need they might have of him, when they should engage for themselves, as he. Wherefore, they fell to advising ahout the next thing propounded, to wit, what soldiers they were, and also how many, with whom Diabolus should go against the town of Mansoul to take it ; and after some dehate, it was concluded, according as in the Utter the Diaholonians had suggested, that none was more fit for that expedition than an army of terrible Doubters.1 They, therefore, concluded to send against Mansoul an army of sturdy Doubt- ers. The number thought fit to he employed in that service was hetween twenty and thirty thou- sand. So then, the result of that great council of those high and mighty lords was, that Diabolus should even now, out of hand, beat up his drum An armyof Doubt- for men in the land of Doubting, nta^e um which land lieth upon the confines of ofManEoui. t]ie j,]ace ca]]e(i Hell-gate-hill, for men that might be employed by him against the miserable town, Mansoul. It was also concluded that these lords themselves should help him in the •m« „ •, .. f war, and that they would, to that end, Die princes of ' J > * the pit go with head and manage his men. So they drew up a letter and sent back to the Diabolonians that lurked in Mansoul, and that waited for the back-coming of Mr. Profane, to sig- nify to them into what method and forwardness they at present had put their design. The con- tents whereof now followeth— ' From the dark and horrible Dungeon of Hell, Diabolus, v:ith all the Society of the Princes Another letter °f Darkness, sends to our trusty from Diauoius ones, in and about the walls of tothe Malolu- , . ,,. . •* Diana in Man- the town of Mansoul, now impa- tiently icaitingfor our most devilish answer, to their venomous and most poisonous design against the toicn of Mansoul. ' Our natives ones, in whom from day to day wc boast, and in whose actions all the year long we do greatly delight ourselves, we received your welcome, because highly-esteemed, letter, at the hand of our trusty and greatly beloved, the old gentleman, Mr. Profane ; and do give you to understand that when we had broken it up, and had read the contents thereof, to your amazing memory be it spoken, our yawning hollow-bellied place, where we are, made so hideous and yelling a 1 Doubts are dangerous and potent, as well as numberless enemies ; they are dishonourable to God's free, sovereign, unasked, 1:1111 e riled, aud everlasting love and mercy in plirist Jesus. — (Mason.) vol. nr. noise for joy, that the mountains that stand round about Hell-gate-hill had like to have been shaken to pieces at the sound thereof. ' We could also do no less than admire your faith- fulness to us, with the greatness of that subtlety that now hath showed itself to be in your heads to serve us against the town of Mansoul. For you have invented for us so excellent a method for our proceeding against that rebellious people ; a more effectual cannot be thought of by all the wits of hell. The proposals, therefore, which now at last you have sent us, since we saw them, we have done little else but highly approved and admired them. 'Nay, wc shall, to encourage you in the pro- fundity of your craft, let you know, that, at a full assembly and conclave of our princes, and princi- palities of this place, your project was discoursed, and tossed from one side of our cave to the other, by their mightinesses ; but a better, and as was by themselves judged, a more fit and proper way by all their wits could not be invented, to surprise, take, and make our own, the rebellious town of Mansoul. ' Wherefore, in fine, all that was said that varied from what you had in your letter propounded, fell of itself to the ground, and yours only was stuck to by Diabolus the prince ; yea, his gaping gorge and vaunting paunch was on fire to put your inven- tion into execution. • We, therefore, give you to understand that our stout, furious, and unmerciful Diabolus, is raising for your relief, and the ruin of the rebellious town of Mansoul, more than twenty thousand Doubters to come against that people. They are all stout aud sturdj' men, and men that of old have been accustomed to war, and that can therefore well endure the drum. I say, he is doing of this work of his with all the possible speed he can ; for his heart and spirit is engaged in it. We desire, therefore, that as you have hitherto stuck to us, and given us both advice and encouragement thus far ; that you still will prosecute our design, nor shall you lose, but be gainers thereby ; yea, we intend to make you the lords of Mansoul. ' One thing may not by any means be omitted, that is, those with us do desire that every one of you that are in Mansoul would still use all your power, cunning, and skill, with delusive persuasions, yet to draw the town of Mansoul into more sin and wickedness, even that sin may be finished and bring forth death. 'For thus it is concluded with us, that the more vile, sinful, and debauched the town of Mansoul is, the more backward will be their Emmanuel to come to their help, either by presence, or other relief; yea, the more sinful, the more weak, and so the more unable will they be to make resistance when 43 THE HOLY WAE. we shall make our assault upon them to swallow Takeheed.Man- them up. Yea, that may cause that soul- their mighty Shaddai himself may cast them out of his protection ; yea, and send for his captains and soldiers home, with his slings and rams, and leave them naked and hare, and then the town of Mansoul will of itself open to us, and fall as the fig into the mouth of the eater. Na. m. 12. Yea, to be sure that we then with a great deal of ease shall come upon her and overcome her. • As to the time of our coming upon Mansoul, we as yet have not fully resolved upon that, though at present some of us think as you, that a market-day, or a market-day at night, will certainly be the best.1 However do you be ready, and when you shall hear our roaring drum without, do you be as busy to make the most horrible confusion within. 1 re. v. 8. So shall Mansoul certainly be distressed before and behind, and shall not know which way to betake herself for help. My Lord Lucifer, my Lord Beelzebub, my Lord Apollyon, my Lord Legion, with the rest salute you, as does also my Lord Dia- bolus, and we wish both you, with all that you do or shall possess, the very self-same fruit and suc- cess for their doing, as we ourselves at present en- joy for ours. ' From our dreadful confines in the most fearful Pit, we salute you, and so do those many legions here with us, wishing you may be as hellishly prosperous as we desire to be our- selves. By the Letter-carrier, Mr. Profane.' Then Mr. Profane addressed himself for his re- turn to Mansoul, with his errand from the horrible pit to the Diabolonians that dwelt in that town. So he came up the stairs from the deep to the mouth of the cave where Cerberus was. Now when Cerberus saw him, he asked how matters did go below, about, and against the town of Mansoid. Prof. Things go as well as we can expect. More talk be- ^ne letter that I carried thither was 2So5ST hisMy approved, and well liked by all my lords, and I am returning to tell our Diabolonians so. I have an answer to it here in my bosom, that I am sure will make our masters that sent me glad ; for the contents thereof is to encourage them to pursue their design to the ut- most, and to be ready also to fall on within, when they shall see my Lord Diabolus beleaguering of the town of Mansoul. 1 At the season when the affairs of the world fill the heart, beware of beiug « overcharged with surfeiting, and drunken- ness, and earcs of this world.' Be sober, be vigilant, O my soul; attend to the author's repeated warning, 'Take heed Mansoul!' — (Ed.) 2 Some may imagine this to be an incredible number of doubts, but when the nine divisions of this army are presently enumerated, it will be readily acknowledged that our doubts arc innumerable. — (En.) Cerb. But does he intend to go against them, himself. Prof. Does he ! Ay, and he will take along with him more than twenty thousand, The land from all sturdy Doubters,2 and men of g^rtS* ^ war, picked men, from the land of come- Doubting, to serve him in the expedition. Cerb. Then was Cerberus glad, and said, And is there such brave preparations a-making to go against the miserable town of Mansoul; and would I might be put at the head of a thousand of them, that I might also show my valour against the fam- ous town of Mansoul.3 Prof. Your wish may come to pass ; you look like one that has mettle enough, and my lord will have with him those that are valiant and stout. But my business requires haste. Cerb. Ay, so it does. Speed thee to the town of Mansoul with all the deepest mischiefs that this place can afford thee. And when thou shalt come to the house of Mr. Mischief, the place where the Diabolonians meet to plot, tell them that Cerberus doth wish them his service, and that if he may, he will with the army come up against the famous town of Mansoul. Prof. That I will. And I know that my lords that are there will be glad to hear it, and to see you also. So after a few more such kind of compliments, Mr. Profane took his leave of his friend Cerberus, and Cerberus again, with a thousand of their pit- wishes, bid him haste with all speed to his masters. The which when he had heard, he made obeisance, and began to gather up his heels to run.4 Thus therefore he returned, and went and came to Mansoul, and going as afore to the house of Mr. Mischief, there he found the Diabolonians as- sembled, and waiting for his return. Now when he was come, and had presented himself, he also delivered to them his letter, and adjoined this com- pliment to them therewith : My Lords from the confines of the pit, the high and mighty princi- palities and powers of the den salute you here, the true Diabolonians of the town of Mansoul. Wish- ing you always the most proper of their benedic- tions, for the great service, high at- ProfBneTeturn. tempts, and brave achievements that ed again to you have put yourselves upon, for the restoring, to our prince Diabolus, the famous town of Mansoul. This was therefore the present state of the miser- 3 According to Milton, Cerberus was the parent of Melan- choly, a fit leader of Doubters. ' Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerherus and blackest Midnight born, Iu Stygian caves forlorn, 'Mougst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy !' L'Allegro.— (Ed.) 4 To * gather up the heels,' or ' take to the heels,' implies great haste.— (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. S39 able town of Mansoul : she had offended her Prince, and he was gone ; she had encouraged the powers of hell, by her foolishness, to conic against her, to seek her utter destruction. True, the town of Mansoul wi rhat sensible of her sin, but the Diabolonians were got- ten into her bowels ; she cried, but Emmanuel was gone, and her cries did not fetch him as yet again. Besides she knew not now whether ever or never he would return and come to his Mansoul again, nor did they know the power and industry of the enemy, nor how forward they were to put in execution that plot of hell that they had devised against her. They did indeed still send petition after petition to the Prince, but he answered all with silence. They did neglect reformation, and that was as Diabolus would have it, for he knew, if they re- garded iniquity in their heart, their King would not hear their prayer ; they therefore did still grow weaker and weaker, and were as a rolling thing before the whirlwind. They cried to their King for help, and laid Diabolonians in their bosoms,1 what therefore should a King do to them ? Yea, there seemed now to be a mixture in Mansoul, the Diabolonians and the Mansoulians would walk the streets together. Yea, they began to seek then- peace, for they thought that since the sickness had been so mortal in Mansoul, it was in vain to go to handy-gripes2 with them. Besides, the weakness of Mansoul was the strength of their enemies; and the sins of Mansoul the advantage of the Diabo- lonians. The foes of Mansoul did also now begin to promise themselves the town for a possession ; there was no great difference now betwixt Man- soulians and Diabolonians, both seemed to be mas- ters of Mansoul. Yea, the Diabolonians increased Good thoughts, and grew, but the town of Mansoul nous, andgood diminished greatly. There was more desires. than eleven thousand of men, women, and children that died by the sickness in Mansoul.3 [Chapter XIV.] [Contents : — The plot discovered by Mi. Prywell — Prepara- tions made for defence — More Diabolonians executed — The army of Doubters approach the town— An assault made upon Eargate, which is repelled — The drummer beats a parley, which is disregarded — Diabolus attempts to deceive by flattery, but is answered by the Lord Mayor — Jolly and Griggish, two young Diabolonians, executed — Gripe and Rakeall hanged — Anything and Loosefoot imprisoned.] But now, as Shaddai would have it, there was cue whose name was Mr. Prywell, a great lover of the people of Mansoul. And he, as his manner 1 This is an awful state, when we encourage evil thonghts and propensities in the heart, and pray to God against them. ' If 1 regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will nut hear we' Ps. lxvi. 18.— (En.) 2 Hand-to-hand combat; wrestling. — (Ed.) was, did go listening up and down in Mansoul to sec, and to hear, if at any time he might, whether there was any design against it or no. The Rtoi . For he was always a jealous man, and Ml- I'm'wiL fcarcd some mischief sometime would befal it, either from the Diabolonians within, or from some power without. Now upon a time it so happened as Mr. Prywell went listening here and there, that he lighted upon a place called Vilchill in Mansoul, where Diabolonians used to meet; so hearing a muttering — you must know that it was in the night — he softly drew near to hear; nor had he stood long under the house-end, for plotdiieomod, there stood a house there, but he heard and by whom- one confidently affirm that it was not or would not be long before Diabolus should possess himself again of Mansoul, and that then the Diabolonians did intend to put all Mansoulians to the sword, and would kill and destroy the King's captains, and drive all his soldiers out of the town.4 lie said, moreover, that he knew there were about twenty thousand fighting men prepared by Diabolus for the accomplishing of this design, and that it would not be months before they all should see it. When Mr. Prywell had heard this story, he did quickly believe it was true, wherefore ho went forthwith to my Lord Mayor's house, and ac- quainted him therewith; who, sending for the subor- dinate Preacher, brake the business to him, and he as soon gave the alarm to the town Understanding. — for he was now the chief preacher in Conscience. Mansoul — because as yet my Lord Secretary was ill at ease. And this was the way that ,, , .. T-, . .. , , The subordinate. the subordinate 1 readier did take to Preacher awa- alarm the town therewith ; the same hour he caused the Lecture-bell to be rung, so the people came together; he gave them then a short exhortation to watchfulness, and made Mr. Pry- well's news the argument thereof. For, said he, an horrible plot is contrived against Mansoul, even to massacre us all in a day; nor is this story to be slighted, for Mr. Prywell is the author thereof. Mr. Prywell was always a lover of Mansoul, a soher and judicious man, a man that is no tattler, nor raiser of false reports, but one that loves to look into the very bottom of matters, and talks nothing of news but by very solid arguments. I will call him, and you shall hear him your own- selves ; so he called him, and he came and told his tale so punctually, and haTnero to affirmed its truth with such ample u™^- 3 Awftd is the state of that soul, when it is difficult, by the conduct, to know whether it is a professor or one of the pro- fane. Alas, how common a case ! Eleven thousand acts of piety, holy thoughts, and aspirations after God, were lost by the wretched backslider. — (El).) 4 Mr. Prywell represents holy jealousy and careful self- exan. ination ; which, when prayerfully used, is sure to detect the plots of Satan. — (Ed.) 340 THE HOLY WAR grounds, that Mansoul fell presently under a con- viction of the truth of what he said. The Preacher did also hack him, saying, Sirs, it is not irrational for us to helieve it, for we have provoked Shaddai to ano-er, and have sinned Emmanuel out of the town ; we have had too much correspondence with Dia- bolonians, and have forsaken our former mercies ; no marvel then if the enemy, "both within and with- out, should plot our ruin ; and what time like this to do it ? The sickness is now in the town, and we have been made weak thereby. Many Good desires. , • • i 1 1 xi a good meaning man is dead, and the Diabolonians of late grow stronger and stronger. Besides, quoth the subordinate Preacher, I have received from this good truth-teller this one ink- ling1 further, that he understood by those that he overheard, that several letters have lately passed between the Furies and the Diabolonians, in order to our destruction. When Mansoul heard all this, and not hemp; able to gainsay it, they They take alarm. ... - . °. i A *W t> lift up their voice and wept. Mr. Pry- well did also, in the presence of the townsmen, confirm all that their subordinate Preacher had said. Wherefore they now set afresh to bewail their folly, and to a doubling of petitions to Shaddai j The tell the alK^ ^"S ^0n# ^•ney a^S0 ura^e tue thing to the business to the captains, high corn- cap am rnanders, and men of war in the town of Mansoul, entreating of them to use the means to be strong, and to take good courage, and that they would look after their harness,2 and make themselves ready to give Diabolus battle, by night and by day, shall he come, as they are informed lie will, to beleaguer3 the town of Mansoul. When the captains heard this, they being always true lovers of the town of Mansoul, what do they, They come to- ^llt ^e so many Samsons, they shake gethcr to con- themselves, and come together to con- sult and contrive how to defeat those bold and hellish contrivances that were upon the wheel, by the means of Diabolus and his friends, against the now sickly, weakly, and much im- poverished town of Mansoul ; and they agreed upon these following particulars — 1. That the gates of Mansoul should be kept Their agree- shut, and made fast with bars and mcut- locks ; and that all persons that went out, or came in, should be very strictly examined by the captains of the guards, lCo.xvi.13; to the end, said they, that those that are managers of the plot amongst us may either, coming or going, be taken ; and that we may also find out who are the great contrivers amongst us of our ruin. Lam. iii 40. 1 A hint or intimation. — (Ed.) " Military dress anil equipments. — (Ed.) s To beseige or environ with troops.— (Ed.) Header, 2. The next thing was, that a strict search should ; be made for all kind of Diabolonians throughout the whole town of Mansoul ; and every man's house, from top to bottom, should be looked into, and that too, house by house, that if possible a further discovery might be made of all such among ; them as had a hand in these designs. lie. xii. 15, ic. 3. It was further concluded upon, that where- soever or with whomsoever any of the Diabolonians were found, that even those of the town of Man- soul that had given them house and harbour, should to their shame, and the warning of others, take penance in the open place. Je. u. 34 ; v. 26. Eze. xvi. 52. 4. It was moreover resolved by the famous town of Mansoul, that a public fast, and a day of humi- liation should be kept throughout the whole cor- poration, to the justifying of their Prince, the abasing of themselves before him for their trans- gressions against him, and against Shaddai his Father. Joel i. 14 j ii. 15, 16. It was further resolved, that all such in Mansoul as did not on that day endeavour to keep that fast, and to humble them- selves for their faults, but that should mind their worldly employs, or be found wandering up and down the streets, should be taken for Diabolonians, and should suffer as Diabolonians for such their wicked doings. 5. It was further concluded then, that with what speed, and with what warmth of mind they could, they would renew their humiliation for sin, and their petitions to Shaddai for help ; they also resolved to send tidings to the court of all that Mr. Prywell had told them. Je. xxxvii. 4, 5. 6. It was also determined that thanks should be given by the town of Mansoul to Mr. Prywell for his diligent seeking of the welfare Mr. Prywell Ls of their town; and further, that for- J^r.^; asmuch as he was so naturally inclined ral- to seek their good, and also to undermine their foes, they gave him a commission of Scout-master- general, for the good of the town of Mansoul.4 When the corporation, with their captains, had thus concluded, they did as they had said ; they shut up their gates, they made for Diabolonians strict search, they made those with whom any were found to take penance in the open place. They kept their fast, and renewed their petitions to their Prince, and Mr. Prywell managed his charge, and the trust that Mansoul had put in his hands, with great conscience, and good Mr. Prywell fidelity; for he gave himself wholly g<*» "cuutiug. up to his employ, and that not only within the town, but he went out to pry, to see, and to hear. And not many days after, he provided for his follow them. Examine all things watchfully ; search out evil diligently. If evil thoughts have been harboured, let sincere penitence drive them out. Be humble, prayerful, thankful ; how wise are these regulations 1 seek earnestly to and you will be safe and happy.— (Ed.) TIIE HOLY WAR. S41 journey, and went towards ndl-gate-hill, into the country where the Doubters were, where ho heard of all that had been talked of in Mansoul, and he perceived also that Diabolus was almost ready for his march. So he came back with speed, and calling the captains and elders of Mansoul to- gether, he told them where he had been, what he He returns with had heard, and what he had seen. great news. Particularly, he told them that Dia- bolus was almost ready for his march, and that ho had made old Mr. Incredulity,1 that once brake prison in Mansoul, the general of his army ; that his army consisted all of Doubters, and that their number was above twenty thousand. He told, moreover, that Diabolus did intend to bring with him the chief princes of the infernal pit, and that he would make them chief captains over his Doubters. He told them, moreover, that it was certainly true that several of the black-den would with Diabolus ride Reformades2 to reduce the town of Mansoul to the obedience of Diabolus their prince. He said, moreover, that he understood by the Doubters, among whom he had been, that the reason why old Incredulity was made general of the whole army, was because none truer than he to the tyrant ; and because he had an implacable spite against the welfare of the town of Mansoul. Besides, said he, he remembers the affronts that Mansoul has given, and he is resolved to be re- venged of them. But the black princes shall be made high commanders, only Incredulity shall be over them all, because, which I had almost forgot, he can more easily, and more dexterously beleaguer the town of Mansoul than can any of the princes besides. He. xii. 1. Now when the captains of Mansoul, with the elders of the town, had heard the tidings that Mr. Prywell did bring, they thought it expedient, without further delay, to put into execution the laws that, against the Diabolonians, their Prince had made for them, and given them in command- ment to manage against them. Wherefore, forth- with a diligent and impartial search was made in all houses in Mansoul for all and all manner of Some Diaboion- Diabolonians. Now in the house of iana taken in Mr. Mind, and in the house of the Mansoul and * __.„ . ... committed to great Lord Will-be-will were two Diabolonians found. In Mr. Mind's house was one Lord Covetousness found, but he 1 Incredulity is general-in-chief of all the Doubters, to show that incredulity, or unbelief, is the source of all the doubts and fears that distress the Christian. — (Ed.) 3 Volunteers. — (Ed.) * If e\il thoughts are subdued and kept in irons, i.e., checked instantly when they appear, they will die in such a prison. The idea was naturally suggested to the author by the number of pious persons who perished in prison, in Bunyan's time, for conscience sake. The Quakers aloue have a list of about lour hundred of their Society who thus perished. — (Ed.) had changed his name to Prudent-thrifty. In my Lord Will-be-will's house, one Lasciviousness was found ; but ho had changed his name to llarmless- mirth. These two the captains and elders of the town of Mansoul took, and committed them to custody under the hand of Mr. Trueman the jailer; and this man handled them so severely, and loaded them so well with irons, that in time they both fell into a very deep consumption, and died in the prison-house;3 their masters also, ac- The Lord Win. cording to the agreement of the cap- j^hSwpmi tains and elders, were brought to take aucc- penance in the open place to their shame, and for a warning to the rest of the town of Mansoul. Now this was the manner of penance in those days. The persons offending, being made sensible of the evil of their do- ings, were enjoined open confession of their faults, and a strict amendment of their lives.4 After this, the captains and elders of Mansoul 60ught yet to find out more Diabolonians, wher- ever they lurked, whether in dens, caves, holes, vaults, or where else they could, in, or about the wall or town of Mansoul. But though they could plainly see their footing, and so follow them, by their tract and smell, to their holds, even to the mouths of their caves and dens, yet take them, hold them, and do justice upon them, they could not, their ways were so crooked, their holds so strong, and they so quick to take sanctuary there. But Mansoul did now with so stiff a hand rule over the Diabolonians that were left, that they were glad to shrink into corners. Time was when they durst walk openly, and in the day, but now they were forced to embrace privacy, and the night — time was when a Mansoulian was their com- panion, but now they counted them deadly enemies. This good change did Mr. Prywell's intelligence make in the famous town of Mansoul.5 By this time Diabolus had finished his army, which he intended to bring with him for the ruin of Mansoul ; and had set over them captains, and other field-officers, such as liked his furious sto- mach best. Himself was lord paramount, Incre- dulity was general of his army. Their highest captains shall be named afterwards, but now for their officers, colours, and escutcheons. 1. Their first captain was Captain Rage, he was captain over the Election-doubters ; A Dubolus'sarmy. his were the red colours, his stanuam- 4 This must not be mistaken for Popish or Protestant con- fessions, penances, or absolutions. The narrative is entirely spiritual and internal. Conscience, not man, acenses; the open confession is unreservedly to God, accompanied by godly sorrow, watchfulness, and prayer, with fruits meet for repent- ance.—(Ed.) 6 How subtle and insidious is sin! in what holes and corners it conceals itself I breaking out occasionally when we thought ourselves near to perfection, and making us cry out, ' O wretched mau that I am 1 who shall deliver me ?*— (Ed.) 342 THE HOLY WAR. bearer was Mr. Destructive, and the great red dragon he had for his escutcheon. Re. xiL s, 4, is-17. 2. The second captain was Captain Fury, he was captain over the Vocation-doubters ; his standard- bearer was Mr. Darkness, his colours were those that were pale, and he had for his escutcheon the fiery flying serpent. So. xxi. 3. The third captain Avas Captain Damnation, he was captain over the Grace-doubters ; his were the red colours, Mr. Nolife bare them, and he had for his escutcheon the black den. Mat. xxii. 13. Ke. i.t. 1. 4. The fourth captain was the Captain Insa- tiable, he was captain over the Faith-doubters ; his Avere the red colours, Mr. Devourer bare them, and he had for an escutcheon the yaAvning jaAvs. Pr. sxvii. 20. Ps. xi. 6. 5. The fifth captain was Captain Brimstone, he was captain over the Perseverance-doubters; his also Avere the red colours, Mr. Burning bare them, and his escutcheon was the blue and stinking flame. Ps. xi. 6. Re. xiv. 11. 6. The sixth captain was Captain Torment, he was captain over the Resurrection-doubters ; his colours Avere those that Avere pale, Mr. Gnaw was his ancient-bearer, and he had the black worm for his escutcheon. Mar. ix. 44-43. 7. The seventh captain was Captain Noease, he Avas captain over the Salvation-doubters; his Avere the red colours, Mr. Restless bare them, and his escutcheon Avas the ghastly picture of death. Re. vi. 8. ; xiv. 11. 8. The eighth captain was the Captain Sepulchre, he Avas captain over the Glory-doubters ; his also Avere the pale colours, Mr. Corruption Avas his ancient-bearer, and he had for his escutcheon a scull, and dead men's bones.1 Je. v. ig.; ii. 25. 9. The ninth captain Avas Captain Pasthope, he was captain of those that are called the Feli- city-doubters; his ancient-bearer was Mr. Despair, his also Avere the red colours, and his escutcheon Ava.s the hot iron and the hard heart.1 1 Tim. iv. 2. Ro. ii. 5. These Avere his captains, and these Avere their forces, these Avere their ancients, these Avere their colours, and these Avere their escutcheons. Now, over these did the great Diabolus make superior captains, and they Avere in number seven, as, namely, the Lord Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord Belial ; these seven he set over the captains, and Incredu- lity was lord-general, and Diabolus was king. The Reformades also, such as were like them- selves, were made some of them cap- DiaMus his at- tains of hundreds, and some of them my completed, captains of more, and thus was the army of In- credulity completed. So they set out at Hell-gate-hill, for there they had their rendezvous, from whence they came with a straight course upon their march toward the town of Mansoul. Noav, as was hinted before, the toAvn had, as Shaddai would have it, receiAred from the mouth of Mr. Prywcll the alarm of their com- ing before. Wherefore they set a strong watch at the gates, and had also doubled their guards, they also mounted their slings in good places, where they might conveniently cast out their great stones, to the annoyance of the furious enemy. Nor could those Diabolonians that were in the toAvn do that hurt as was designed they should, for Mansoul was noAV aAvake. But, alas ! poor people, they Avere sorely affrighted at the first appearance of their foes, and at their sitting down before the town, especially Avhen they heard the roaring of their drum.2 iPe. v. 8. This, to speak truth, was amazingly hideous to hear; it frighted all men seven miles round, if they Avere but awake and heard it.3 The streaming of their colours were also terrible and dejecting to behold. When Diabolus Avas come up against the town, first he made his approach to Eargate He makes an and gave it a furious assault, suppos- e^1^ £$£ ing, as it seems, that his friends in spelled. Mansoul had been ready to do the Avork within ; but care Avas taken of that before, by the vigilance of the captains. Wherefore, missing of the help that he expected from them, and finding of his army Avarmly attended Avith the stones that the slingers did sling — for that I will say for the cap- tains, that considering the Aveakness that yet Avas upon them, by reason of the long sickness that had annoyed the town of Mansoul, they did gallantly behave themselves — he Avas forced to He retreats and make some retreat from Mansoul, and eitfreraaesiim- to intrench himself and his men in the field, Avithout the reach of the slings of the town. Ja. iv. 7. 1 We are here presented with a very curious, but accurate, division into classes of all our doubts aud fears, each under the most appropriate captain, ancient-bearer, or ensign, and Standard. As all Christians are more or less subject to their painful visits, it will be useful to scrutinize our doubts ; and, having ascertained their nature or class, then prayerfully to com] are them with the sacred Oracles, aud find that key which opens a'l the gates in Doubting Castle. — (Ed.) - ' The roaring of the drum,' alluding to that roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. The roaring of a lion is a terrific noise in the night ; but Satan has no more power to hurt the saints of God than has the noise of a drum. It may annoy, terrify, and drive us to the bosom of Christ, but it cannot destroy. — (Ed.) 'It is for want of hope (a sound scriptural hope, arising from faith, and its purifying effects upon the soul), that so many brisk professors, that have so boasted and made brags of their faith, have not been able to endure the drum in the day of alarm and affliction.' — (Bunyan's Israel's Hope Encouraged, vol. i. p. 580.) 3 'Those tumultuous thoughts, that, like masterless hell- hounds, roar and bellow, and make a hideous noise within me.' — Grace Abounding, No. 174. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WATl. 343 Now, having intrenched himself, lie did cast up „ , four mounts a gainst the town, the first He casts up o ... mounts agaiust he called Mount Diabolus, putting his own name thereon, the more to affright the town of Mansoul; the other three he called thus, Mount Alecto, Mount Megoera, and Mount Tisiphone ; for these are the names of the dreadful furies of hell.1 Thus he began to play his game with Mansoul, and to serve it as doth the lion his prey, even to make it fall before his terror. But, as I said, the captains and soldiers resisted so stoutly, and did so much execution with their stones, that they made him — though against sto- mach— to retreat, wherefore Mansoul began to take courage. Now, upon Mount Diabolus, which was raised p. .. . . on the north side of the town, there standard set did the tyrant set up his standard, and a fearful thing it was to behold, for he had wrought in it by devilish art, after the man- ner of an escutcheon, a flaming flame, fearful to behold, and the picture of Mansoul burning in it. When Diabolus had thus done, he commanded that his drummer should every night approach the He bids his drum- walls of the town of Mansoul, and so mer to beat his to beat a parley ; the command was drum. A . to do it at a-nights, for in the day- time they annoyed him with their slings, for the tyrant said that he had a mind to parley with the now trembling town of Mansoul, and he commanded that the drum should beat every night, that through weariness they might at last — if possibly at the first they were unwilling, yet — be forced to do it. So his drummer did as commanded, he arose Mansoul and did beat his drnm. But when noise 'of his ^s drum did go, if one looked towards drum. the town of Mansoul, behold darkness and sorrow, and the light was darkened in the heaveu thereof. No noise was ever heard upon earth more terrible, except the voice of Shaddai when he speaketh. But how did Mansoul tremble ! It now looked for nothing but forthwith to be swallowed up.2 is. v. so. When this drummer had beaten for a parley, he made this speech to Mansoul : My master has bid me tell you, that if you willingly submit, you shall have the good of the earth, but if you shall be stubborn, he is resolved to take you by force. But by that the fugitive had done beating of his drum, the people of Mansoul had betaken themselves to the captains that were in the castle, so that there was none to regard, nor to give this drummer an 1 Bunyan's general knowledge is truly astonishing. Where could he have scraped acquaintance with the names of the furies? These names are, however, most appropriately applied to such objects of terror. — (Ed.) 2 ' Often, after I had spent this and the other day in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted, when asleep, with the apprehensions of devils, and wicked spirits, who laboured to answer, so he proceeded no further that night, but returned again to his master to the camp. When Diabolus saw that, by drumming, ho could not work out Mansoul to his will, the next night he sendeth his drummer without Diabolus calls his drum, still to let the townsmen •»<* his dru.u. know, that he had a mind to parley with them. But when all came to all, his parley was turned into a summons to the town to deliver up them- selves, but they gave him neither heed nor hear- ing, for they remembered what at first it cost them to hear him a few words.3 The next night he sends again, and then who should be his messenger to Mansoul but the ter- rible Captain Sepulchre; so Captain Sepulchre came up to the walls of Mansoul, and made this oration to the town— 0 ye inhabitants of the rebellious town of Mansoul! I summon you, in the name jransoul gnni. of the Prince Diabolus, that without iuoncd by ca|>- , x1 tain Sepulchre, any more ado you set open the gates of your town, and admit the great lord to come in. But if you shall still rebel, when we have taken to us the town by force, we will swallow you up as the grave; wherefore, if you will hearken to my summons, say so, and if not, then let me know. The reason of this my summons, quoth he, is, for that my lord is your undoubted prince and lord, as you yourselves have formerly owned. Nor shall that assault that was given to my lord, when Emmanuel dealt so dishonourably by him, prevail with him to lose his right, and to forbear to attempt to recover his own. Consider then, 0 Mansoul, with thyself, wilt thou show thyself peaceable or no ? If thou shalt quietly yield up thyself, then our old friendship shall be renewed, but if thou shalt yet refuse and rebel, then expect nothing but fire and sword. When the languishing town of Mansoul had heard this summoner and his sum- They answer mons, they were yet more put to their «*«*""* dumps, but made to the captain no answer at all, so away he went as he came.* But after some consultation among themselves, as also with some of their captains, they applied themselves afresh to the Lord Secretary for coun- sel and advice from him, for this Lord They address Secretary was their chief preacher, as theirgpodLord also is mentioned some pages before, Secretary. draw me away with them ; of which I could never be rid.' — Grace Abounding, No. 5. Here we see the drum of Diabo- lus.—(Ed.) 3 The Christian's motto should be—' No parley with the tempter ; not for a moment.' Never forget the fatal parley he had with Eve— (Ed.) 4 A season of doubt and fear encourages the assaults of death and hell. How often has Captain Sepulchre put Man- soul to its dumps ! It is a blessing when it excites to prayer and examination. — (En.) 344 THE HOLY WAR. only now he was ill at ease, and of him they beefed favour in these two or three things — 1. That he would look comfortably upon them, and not to keep himself so much retired from them as formerly. Also that he would be prevailed with to give them a hearing, while they should make known their miserable condition to him. But to this he told them as before, that as yet he was but ill at ease, and therefore could not do as he had formerly done. 2. The second thing that they desired was, that he would be pleased to give them his advice about their now so important affairs, for that Diabolus was come and set down before the town with no less than twenty thousand Doubters. They said, moreover, that both he and his captains were cruel men. and that they were afraid of them. But to this he said, You must look to the law of the Prince, and there see what is laid upon you to do.1 3. Then they desired that his Highness would help them to frame a petition to Shaddai, and unto Emmanuel his Son, and that he would set his own hand thereto, as a token that he was one with them in it ; for, said they, my lord, many a one have we sent, but can get no answer of peace, but now, surely one with thy hand unto it may obtain good for Mansoul. But all the answer that he gave to this was „,. „. that they had offended their Em- The cause of his J _ being ill at manuel, and had also grieved himself, and that therefore they must as yet partake of their own devices. This answer of the Lord Secretary fell like a millstone upon them, yea, it crushed them so that they could not tell what to do, yet they durst not The sad straits comply with the demands of Diabolus, of Mansoul. nor -\Vitli the demands of his captain. So then, here were the straits that the town of Mansoul was betwixt when the enemy came upon her, her foes were ready to swallow her up, and her friends did forbear to help her.2 Lam. i. 3. Then stood up my Lord Mayor, whose name Acomnentupon was my Lord Understanding, and he the Lord secrc- began to pick and pick, until he had tary s speech. • 1 1 ~ picked comfort out of that seem- ingly bitter saying of the Lord Secretary, for thus he descanted upon it: First, said he, this unavoidably follows upon the say- ing of our Lord that we must yet suffer for our sins. Second. But, quoth he, the words yet found as if at last wc should be saved from our enemies and that after a few more sorrows Emmanuel will m- 1 Rely not upon frames, feelings, or experience, but go prayerfully to the law and to the testimony ; that alone should be 'a lamp to our feet, and a light to our path.' — (Ed.) 2 ' When I cried to God for mercy, this would come in — It is too late, I am lost; God hath let me fall, not to my cor- rection, but mv condemnation.' — Grace Abounding, .No. 103. -(Ed.) come and be our help. Now the Lord Mayor was the more critical in his dealing with the Secretary's words, because my Lord was more than a prophet, and because none of his words were such but that at all times they were most exactly significant, and the townsmen were allowed to pry into them, and to expound them to their best advantage.3 So they took their leaves of my Lord, and re- turned, and went, and came to the captains, to whom they did tell what my Lord High Secretary had said, who when they had heard it, were all of the same opinion as was my Lord Mayor him- self; the captains therefore began to take some courage unto them, and to prepare to make some brave attempt upon the camp of the enemy, and to destroy all that were Diabolonians, with the roving Doubters that the tyrant had brought with him to destroy the poor town of Mansoul. So all betook themselves forthwith to their places, the captains to theirs, the The town , Lord Mayor to his, the subordinate Mansoul in Preacher to his, and my Lord Will- be-will to his. The captains longed to be at some work for their Prince, for they delighted in war- like achievements. The next day, therefore, they came together and consulted, and, after consulta- tion had, they resolved to give an answer to the captain of Diabolus with slings, and so they did at the rising of the sun on the morrow ; for Dia- bolus had adventured to come nearer again, but the sling-stones were, to him and his, like hornets. Zee. ix. is. For as there is nothing to the town of Mansoul so terrible as the roaring of Diabolus's drum, so there is nothing to Diabolus so terriblo as the well playing of Emmanuel's Wonl8« applied slings. Wherefore Diabolus was forced against him by to make another retreat, yet further off from the famous town of Mansoul. Then did the Lord Mayor of Mansoul cause the bells to be rung, and that thanks should be sent to the Lord High Secretary by the mouth of the subordinate Preacher ; for that by his words the captains and elders of Mansoul had been strengthened against Diabolus. When Diabolus saw that his captains and soldiers, high lords, and renowned, were frightened, and beaten down by the stones that came from the golden slings of the Prince of the town of Man- soul, he bethought himself, and said, I will try to catch them by fawning, I will try to flatter them into my net.5 Re. xii. 10. 3 A personal prying into the Scriptures is a most important duty. As the reader will presently see, these golden slings beat down aul frightened the high lords and soldiers, the renowned Doubters under Uiabjlus. — (Ed.) * ' Words,' or texts of Holy Writ.— (E».) s Satan has various modes of attack. If he succeed not as the roaring lion, he will assume the er.ifty serpent; if he pre- 1 vad not by fear, he will resort to flattery.— (Border.) THE ITOLY WAK. 315 Wherefore after a while he came down again to DMiolnsctomgea the wall, not now with his drum, nor bis way. ^j, captaui Sepulchre, but having so all besugared his lips, he seemed to be a very sweet-inoothed, peaceable Prince, designing nothing for humour's sake,1 nor to be revenged on Man- soid for injuries by them done to him, but the welfare, and good, and advantage of the town and people therein, was now, as he said, his only design. Wherefore, after he had called for au- dience, and desired that the townsfolk would give it to him, he proceeded in his oration: And said, 1 0 ! the desire of my heart, the famous town of Mansoul ! How many nights have I watched, and how many weary steps have I taken, if, perhaps, I might do thee good, l re. v. 8. Far he it, far he it from me, to desire to make a war upon you, if ye will but willingly and quietly deliver up your- selves unto me. You know that you were mine of old. Mat. iv. 8, 9. Lu. iv. c, 7. Remember also, that so long as you enjoyed me for your lord, and that I enjoyed you for my subjects, you wanted for nothing of all the delights of the earth, that I, Satan roads all your lord and prince, could get for backwards. yOU . or t]iat j could invent to make you bonny and blithe withal. Consider, you never had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart- afflicting hours, while you where mine, as you have had since you revolted from me ; nor shall you ever have peace again until you and I become one as before.2 Be but prevailed with to embrace me Take heed Man- again, and I will grant, yea, Marge your old charter with abundance of privileges ; so that your licence and liberty shall be to take, hold, enjoy, and make your own, all that is pleasant from the east to the west.3 Nor shall any of those incivilities wherewith you have offended me, be ever charged upon you by me, so long as the the sun and moon endureth. Nor shall any of those dear friends of mine, that now, for the fear of you, lie lurking in dens, and holes, and caves in Mansoul, be hurtful to you any more ; yea, they shall be your servants, and shall minister unto you of their sub- stance, and of whatever shall come to hand. I need speak no more, you know them, and have The pleasure some time since been much delighted ot sm- in their company, why then should we abide at such odds? Let us renew our old acquaintance and friendship again.4 1 For whim, caprice, petulance, or peevishness. — (Ed.) 2 'Gladly would I have been in the condition of a dog or horse, for 1 knew they had no souls to perish under the ever- lasting weight of hell or sin, as mine was like to do.' — Grace Abounding, No. 104. — (Ed.) 3 ' All the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them ;' 'all these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.' Mat. iv. 8. — (Ed.) * The infernal liar promises great things, which he is nei- * Bear with your friend; I take the liberty at this time to speak thus freely unto you. n„ no no- not The love that I have to you presses me to do it, as also does the zeal of u""- my heart for my friends with yon ; put mo not therefore to further trouble, nor yourselves to further fears and frights. Have you I will, in a way of peace or war; nor do you flatter yourselves with the power and force of your captains, or that your Emmanuel will shortly come in to your help, for such strength will do you no pleasure. ' 1 am come against you with a stout and valiant army, and all the chief princes of the den, are even at the head of it. Besides, my captains are swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, and more greedy of prey than are the evening-wolves. What is Og of Bashan! What is Goliah of Oath! And what is a hundred more of them to one of the least of my captains ! How then shall Mansoul think to escape my hand and force ? ' 5 Diabolus having thus ended his flattering, fawn- ins;, deceitful, and lying speech to the famous town of Mansoul, the Lord Mayor replied upon him as follows: — ' 0 Diabolus, prince of darkness, and master of all deceit ; thy lying flatteries we have a-,ie Tj01.,1 had and made sufficient probation of, Mayor"* answer. and have tasted too deeply of that destructive cup already ; should we therefore again hearken unto thee, and so break the commandments of our great Shaddai, to join in affinity with thee ; would not our Prince reject us, and cast us off for ever; and being cast off by him, can the place that he has prepared for thee, be a place of rest for us? Be- side, 0 thou that art empty and void of all truth, we are rather ready to die by thy hand, than to fall in with thy flattering and lying deceits.' When the tyrant saw that there was little to be got by parleying with my Lord Mayor, he fell into a hellish rage, and resolved that again, with his army of Doubters, he would another time assault the town of Mansoul. So he called for his drummer, who beat up for his men (and while he did beat. Mansoul did shake), to be in a readiness to give battle to the corpora- tion ; then Diabolus drew near with his army, and thus disposed of his men. Captain Cruel, and Captain Torment, these he drew up and placed against Feelgate, and commanded them to sit ther able nor willing to perform. Wonderful liberty meaning frightful slavery; all sensual gratifications, hut does not hint thai they are destructive to body and soul; perfect freedom from religious fears and straits, hut does not add thai after all this comes a portion in the burning lake. — (En.) 6 I much doubt whether human ingenuity ever invented a speech so worthy of the terms 'flattering, fawning, deceitful and lying.' It 'is worthy the mouth of the god of this world, the prince of the power of the air. It is a marvellous in- of an unlettered mechanic, presenting itself to the. imagination with all the force and power of reality. — (Ed.) 41- 346 THE HOLY WAT?. down there for the war.1 And he also appointed, that if need were, Captain Noease should come in to their relief. At Nosegate he placed the Captain Brimstone, and Captain Sepulchre, and bid them • |oo|, wey ^0 their ward, on that side of the town of Mansoul. But at Eyegate lie placed that grim-faced one the Cap- 3 ""' tain Pasthope, and there also now he did set up his terrible standard: Now Captain Insatiable he was to look to the carriage of Diabolus, and was also appointed to take into custody, that, or those persons and things that should at any time as prey be taken from the enemy. Now Mouthgate the inhabitants of Mansoul kept for a sally-port, wherefore that they kept strong, tor that was it, by, and out at which the towns-folk did send their petitions to Emmanuel their Prince; that also was the gate from the top of which the captains did play their slings at the enemies, for that gate stood somewhat ascending, so that the placing of them there, and the letting of them fly from that place, did much The use of execution against the tyrant's army ; Mouthgate. wlierefore for these causes, with others, Diabolus sought, if possible, to land up Mouthgate with dirt." Now as Diabolus was busy and industrious in preparing to make his assault upon the town of Mansoul without, so the captains and soldiers in the corporation were as busy in preparing within ; they mounted their slings, they set up their ban- ners, they sounded their trumpets, and put them- selves in sucb order as was judged most for the annoyance of the enemy, and for the advantage of Mansoul, and gave to their soldiers orders to be ready at the sound of the trumpet for war. The The Lord Will- Lord Will-be- will also, he took the be-wiii plays charge of watching against the rebels the mau . ° within, and to do what he could to take th<^i while without, or to stifle them within their caves, dens, and holes, in the town-wall of Mansoul. ■• And to speak the truth of him, ever since he took penance for his fault, he has showed as much opnesty and bravery of spirit as any he JoUey anil ,._.,. in Mansoul ; for he took one Jolley, gish taken and and his brother Grigish, the two sons executed. .... TT , of Ins servant llarmlcss-mirth,3 for to that day, though the father was committed to ward, the sons had a dwelling in the house of my 1 The intention of Diabolus is to fill the soul with doubts, and, if possible, with despair, lie places his forces at Feel- gate; that is, lie would had the soul to doubt by trusting to his religious frames and feeliugs, instead of looking only to Jesus. — (Burder.) 2 So valuable to the soul is prayer, that Diabolus attempts to prevent it, by rendering Mouthgate impassible. Nothing can be more expressive than the terms, ' to laud up,' or block- lord. I say he took them, and with his own hands put them to the cross. And this was the reason why he hanged them up, after their father was put into the hands of Mr. Trueman the jailer ; they his sons began to play his pranks, and to be ticking and toying with the daughters of their lord ; nay, it was jealoused that they were too familiar with them, the which was brought to his lordship's ear. Now his lordship, being unwilling unadvisedly to put any man to death, did not sud- denly fall upon them, but set watch and spies to see if the thing was true ; of the which he was soon informed, for his two servants, whose names were Findout, and Tellall, catched them together in uncivil manner more than once or twice, and went and told their lord. So when my Lord Will- be-will had sufficient ground to believe the thing- was true, he takes the two young Diabolonians, for such they were, for their father was a Diabo- lonian born, and has them to Eyegate, where he raised a very high cross just in the face of Dia- bolus, and of his army, and there he The place of hanged the young villains in defiance tluur esecutum- to Captain Pasthope, and of the horrible standard of the tyrant. Now this Christian act of the brave Lord Will- be-will did greatly abash Captain Pasthope, dis- courage the army of Diabolus, put fear into the Diabolonian runagates in Mansoul, and put strength and courage into the captains that be- longed to Emmanuel the Prince; for ° . ,. Mortification of they without did gather, and that, by sin is a sign of this very act of my lord, that Mansoul upe ot was resolved to fight, and that the Diabolonians within the town could not do such things as Dia- bolus had hopes they would, Nor was this the only proof of the brave Lord Will-be-will's honesty to the town, nor of his loyalty to his Prince, as will afterwards appear. Now when the children of Prudent-thrifty, who dwelt with Mr. Mind, for Thrift left children with Mr. Mind, when he was also committed Ml.. jfiliu plays to prison, and their names were Gripe tlie man- and Rake-all ; these he begat of Mr. Mind's bas- tard-daughter, whose name was Mrs. Hold-fast- bad, I say, when his children perceived how the Lord Will-be-will had served them that dwelt with him, what do they but, lest they should drink of the same cup, endeavour to make their escape ? But Mr. Mind being wary of it, took them and put up, ' the way with dirt,' so as to prevent the sotd's approach to a pure and holy God.' — (Ed.) 3 To really harmless mirth, to be merry and wise, there cau be no objection. ' Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less.' But Ware of Jolley and Grigish. If mirth produces them, be sure that it is not harmless, and at once put them to the cross.- -(Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. 347 them in hold in his house till morning, for this was done over night, and remembering that by the law of Mansoul, all Diaboloniana were to die, and to he sure they were at least by father's side such, and some say by mother's Bide too, what does he hut takes them and puts them in chains, and carries them to the self-same place where my lord hanged his two before, and there he hanged them. The townsmen also took great encouragement Mansoul set -i at tn's act °* ^'"- Mind, an0" (Ul' w'iat they could to have taken some more of these Diabolonian troublers of Man- soul; hut at that time the rest lay so quat1 and close that they could not be apprehended ; so they ; :11st them a diligent watch, and went every man to his place. I told you a little before that Diabolus and his army were somewhat abashed and discouraged at the sight of what my Lord Will-be-will did, when Diabolus. His he hanged up those two young Dia- ed^uto^furious holonians ; but his discouragement 111 4ness- quickly turned itself into furious mad- ness and rage against the town of Mansoul, and fight it be would. Also the townsmen, and cap- tains within, they bad their hopes and their expec- tations heightened, believing at last the day would he theirs, so they feared them the less. Their subordinate Preacher too made a sermon about it, and he took that theme for his text, ' Gad, a troop shall overcome him ; but he shall overcome at the last. ' Ge. xiix. ]9. Whence he showed that though Mansoul should be sorely put to it at the first, yet the victory should most certainly be Mansoul's at the last. So Diabolus commanded that his drummer should beat a charge against the town, and the captains also that were in the town sounded a charge against them, but they had no drum, they were trumpets of silver with which thev sounded against them. Then they which were of the camp of Diabolus came With heart and down to the town to take it, and the month, captains in the castle, with the sling- ers at Mouthgate played upon them amain. And now there was nothing heard in the camp of Dia- holus but horrible rage and blasphemy; but in the town good words, prayer, and singing of psalms. The enemy replied with horrible objections, and the terribleness of their drum; but the town made answer with the slapping of their slings, and the melodious noise of their trumpets. And thus the fight lasted for several days together, only now and then they had some small intermission, in the which 1 'Quat,' now spelt 'squat/ to lie or sit close, still, or lurking — Hilton. Iu a Glasgow edition, 1720, it is altered to 'quiet.' In 1732, it is ' lay so close.' — (Kn ) - Stinking and loathsome is sin in the sight of God. May we be sensible of the hiihiness of sin, as David was: — 'Mine the townsmen refreshed themselves, and the cap- tains made ready for another assault. The captains of Emmanuel were (dad in silver armour, and the soldiers in that which was of proof; the soldiers of Diabolus were clad in iron, which was made to give place to Emmanuel's engine-shot. Ill the town some were hurt, and some were great- ly wounded. Now the worst on it was, a surgeon was scarce in Mansoul, for thai Emmanuel at pre- sent was absent. Howbeit, with the leaves of a tree the wounded were kept from dying; yet their wounds did greatly putrify, and some did grievously stink." Re, wii. 2. Ps. ixxviii. 5. Of these were wounded, to wit, My Lord Reason, he was wounded in the head. Another that was wounded was the whoofMansoul brave Lord Mayor, he was wounded in warewonnded. th6 Eye. Another that was wounded was Mr. Mind, he received his wound about the Stomach.3 The honest subordinate Preacher also, he re- ceived a shot not far oil' the heart, but none of these were mortal. Many also of the inferior sort were not only wounded, but slain outright. Hopeful Now in the camp of Diabolus were thougbts. wounded and slain a considerable number. For instance. Captain Rage he was wounded, and so was Cap- tain Cruel. Whointhecamp Captain Damnation was made to re- °.er(, J,',',',,'^",] treat, and to intrench himself further a"d slaiu- off of Mansoul; the standard also of Diabolus was beaten down, and his standard-bearer Captain Much- hurt, had his brains beat out with a sling-stone, to the no little grief and shame of his prince Diabolus. Many also of the Doubters were slain outright, though enough of them are left alive to make Man- soul shake and totter. Now the victory Tli(. ,.: that dav being turned to Mansoul, did »cn , . , , to Mansoul. put great valour into the townsmen and captains, and did cover Diabolus's camp with a cloud, but withal it made them far more furious. So the next day Mansoul rested, and commanded that the bells should be rung; the trumpets also joyfully sounded, and the captains shouted round the town. My Lord Will-be-will also was not idle, hut did notable service within against the do- Mv Ioi,] Wl :I. mestics, or the Diaboloniana that were 1m>' one Anything, in the town, not onlv bv keeping of andon them in awe, for he lighted on one at mitteth them last whose name was Mr. Anything,4 toward- iniquities are gone over my head; my wounds stink and are 3S.1 Ps. xxxviii. 4, 5. — (Ed.) \ curious idea, but folly borne out both by reason and Scripture. Gluttony or drunkenness injures the mind. Peter says, ' Add to knowledge temperance.1 2 Pe. i. 6.— (Ed.) religion, a conformity or opposition to it, a- convenience requires.— -(Burder.) 313 THE HOLY WAR. a fellow of whom mention was made before ; for it was be, if you remember, that brought the three fel- lows to Diabolus, whom the Diabolonians took out of Captain Boanerges' company; and that persuaded them to list themselves under the tyrant, to fight against the army of Shaddai; my Lord Will-be-will did also take a notable Diabolonian, whose name was Loosefoot;1 this Loosefoot was a scout to the vagabonds in Mansoul, and that did use to carry tidings out of Mansoul to the camp, and out of the camp to those of the enemies in Mansoul ; both these my lord sent away safe to Mr. Trueman the jailer, with a commandment to keep them in irons; for he intended then to have them out to be cruci- fied, when it would be for the best to the corpora tion, and most for the discouragement of the camp of the enemies. My Lord Mayor also, though he could not stir The captains about so much as formerly, because of consult to fail t^ wounfi tnafc ue lately received, yet upon the ene- ■> ' J my- gave he out orders to all that were the natives of Mansoul to look to their watch, and stand upon their guard, and, as occasion should offer, to prove themselves men. Mr. Conscience the preacher, he also did his utmost to keep all his good documents2 alive upon the hearts of the people of Mansoul. [Chapter XV.] [Contents : — The inhabitants of Mansoul make a rash sortie on the enemy by night, but are repulsed with loss — Dia- bolus makes a desperate attack upon Feelgate, which, being weak, he forces ; and his army of Doubters possess the town, and do incredible mischief — The inhabitants, sorely aggrieved, determine on a new application to Em- manuel, and procure the assistance of the Secretary in preparing the petition, which is presented by Captain Credence — He is favourably received, and appointed Lord Lieutenant over all the forces.] Well, a while after the captains and stout ones of the town of Mansoul agreed and resolved upon a time to make a sally out upon the camp of Dia- bolus, and this must be done in the night,3 and there was the folly of Mansoul, for the night is always the best for the enemy, but the worst for Mansoul to fight in; but yet they would do it, their courage was so high ; their last victory also still stuck in their memories. So the night appointed being come, the Prince's Tliev fight in the brave captains cast lots who should m.'hi, who do lead the van in this new and desner- leud the van. ... . _. , , r ate expedition against Diabolus, and against his Diabolonian army, and the lot fell to 1 Loosefoot may signify a careless walk and conversation. — (Border,) 2 The books, chapters, or verses of holy Writ. — (Ed ) 3 Night, or a time of desertion, was the best for the ene- my; for then self-coulideuce prevailed, the soul depended upon Captain Credence, to Captain Experience, and to Captain Goodhope to lead the Forlorn Hope. This Captain Experience the Prince created such when himself did reside in the town of Mansoul ; so, as I said, they made their sally out upon Uow they fall the army that lay in the siege against ou- them; and their hap was to fall in with the main body of their enemies. Now Diabolus and his men being expertly accustomed to night work, took the alarm presently, and were as ready to give them battle, as if they had sent them word of their com- ing. Wherefore to it they went amain, and blows were hard on every side ; the hell-drum also was beat most furiously, while the trumpets of the Prince most sweetly sounded. And thus the battle was joined, and Captain Insatiable looked to the enemies carriages,4 and waited when he should re- ceive some prey. The Prince's captains fought it stoutly, beyond what indeed could be expected they TUey figUt should ; they wounded many ; they bravely. made the whole army of Diabolus to make a re- treat. But I cannot tell how, but the brave Cap- tain Credence, Captain Goodhope, and Captain Experience, as they were upon the pursuit, cutting down, and following hard after the enemy in the rear, Captain Credence stumbled and captain Cre- fell, by which fall he caught so great dence hurt a hurt that he could not rise till Captain Experience did help him up, at which their men were put in disorder ; the captain also was so full of pain that he could not forbear but aloud to cry The rest of the out; at this the other two captains ^^bssbk^ fainted, supposing that Captain Cre- TIAL- dence had received his mortal wound : their men also were more disordered, and had no list to fight. Now Diabolus being very observing though at this time as yet he was put to the worst, perceiving that a halt was made among the men that were the pursuers, what does he but taking it Diabolus takes for granted that the captains were courage. either wounded or dead; he therefore makes at first a stand, then faces about, aud so comes up upon the Prince's army with as much of his fury as hell could help him to, and his hap was to fall in just among the three captains, Captain Credence, Cap- tain Goodhope, and Captain Experience, aud did cut, wound, and pierce them so dread- ThePrince'sfor- fully, that what through discourage- ces beateu- nient, what through disorder, and what through the wounds that now they had received, and also the loss of much blood, they scarce were able, though they had for their power the three best bands in Mansoul, to get safe into the hold again. a fancied inherent strength of its own, which is perfect weak- ness. In the Lord alone have we righteousness aud strength for the battle. — (Mason.) 4 Behaviour, deportment. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. 349 Now, when the body of the Prince's army saw Satan some- D0W ^686 three C;l]itaill.S Were }Ult to tdmee makes the worst, they thought it their wisdom saints eat ' ■» ° tlieii own to make as sale una good a retreat as they could, and so returned by the Bally-port again, and so there was an end of this ... , , , , , present action.1 But Diabolus was Diabolus flushed. l so Hushed with this night's work, that he promised himself, in few days, an easy and complete conquest over the town of Mansoul ; Hedemandflthe wherefore, on tlie day following-, lie 1"'W1- comes up to the sides thereof with great boldness, and demands entrance, and that forthwith they deliver themselves up to h i.s govern- ment. The Diaholonians too, that were within, they began to be somewhat brisk, as we shall show , alter ward. But the valiant Lord Mayor replied that what , UteleraSfayort '1C »ot he mus* ge* '\V force, for as answer. ]ong as Emmanuel their Prince was alive, though be at present was not so with them as they wished, they should never consent to yield Mansoul up to another. And with that the Lord Will-be-will stood up Brave Wiii-be- and said, " Diabolus, thou master of the Mill's speech, ^en> ailj enemy to all that is good, we, poor inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, are too well acqaiuted with thy rule and government, and with the end of those things that for certain will follow submitting to thee, to do it.2 Where- fore, though while we were without knowledge we suffered thee to take us, as the bird that saw not the snare fell into the bands of the fowler, yet, since we have been turned from darkness to light, we have also been turned from the power of Satan to God. And though, through thy subtilty, and also the subtilty of the Diaholonians within, we have sustained much loss, and also plunged our- selves into much perplexity, yet give up ourselves, lay down our arms, and yield to so horrid a tyrant as thou, we shall not, die upon the place we choose rather to do. Besides, we have hopes that in time deliverance will come from court unto us, and therefore we yet will maintain a war against thee.' This brave speech of the Lord Will-be-will, with Tbe captains that also of the Lord Mayor, did some- encouraged. wl,.u abate the boldness of Diabolus, though it kindled the fury of his rage. It also succoured the townsmen and captains, yea, it was as a plaster to the brave Captain Credence's wound ; for you must know, that a brave speech 1 The night of darkness and desertion was nol a proper season for this effort, it seems intended to show the effects of the prevalence of a self-confidenl spirit, which cannot issue well: lbr faith, hope, and experience were wounded. — Burder.) a Misery without rented) and without end; eternal death; the being cut off from God, the rout and fountain ol uess. — (Mason.) 3 If this word was coined bj Banyan, he could I now, when the captains of the town with their men of war came home routed, and when the enemy took courage and boldness at the success that he had obtained, to draw up to the walls and demand entrance as he did, was in season, and also ad- vantageous. The Lord "Will-be-will also did play the man within, for while the captains and soldiers were in the field, he was iii arms in the town, and wher- ever by him there was a Diabolonian found, they were forced to feel the weight of his heavy band, and also the edge of his penetrating sword; many therein re, of the Diaholonians he wounded, as the Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, and the Lord Murmur, several also of the meaner sort he did sorely maim, though there cannot at this time an account be given you of any that he slew outright. The cause, or rather the advan- tage, that my Lord Will-be-will bad at this time to do thus, was, for that the captains were gone out to light the enemy in the field. Lor now, thought the Diaholonians within, is our time to stir and make an uproar in the town ; what do they therefore but quickly get themselves into a body, and fall forthwith to hurrieaning in Mansoul, ;; as if now nothing but whirlwind and tempest should be there, wherefore, as I said, be takes this opportunity to fall in among them -&& with bis men, cutting and slashing wffl-be-will's with courage that was undaunted, at gallantry. which the Diaholonians with all haste dispersed themselves to their holds, aud my lord to his place as before. This brave act of my lord did somewhat revenge the wrong done by Diabolus to the captains, and also did let them know that Mansoul jfothi__ lik was not to be parted with for the loss faith to crush „ . i o i Diabolus. ot a victory or two ; wherefore the wing of the tyrant was clipped again — as to boast- ing 1 mean — in comparison of what be would have done if the Diaholonians had put the town to the same plight to which he had put the captains. Well, Diabolus yet resolves to have the other bout. with Mansoul; for, thought be, since I beat them once, 1 may beat them twice ; wherefore he commanded his men to be ready at 2Ic trics what such an hour of the night, to make a becandoupoii . tlie sense ami fresh assault upon the town, and he feeling of the it gave out in special that they should bend all their force against Feelgate,4 and attempt introduced anything more appropriate. No word in common use coidd convey an idea of the wretchedly uneasy state of the soul in such a siege. Evil thoughts and imaginations are hurrieaning within him ; it is a tempest rushing upon him at once from all quarters; like Bunyan's feelings, as described in •/. No. 187. — (En.) _ in Diabolus determines to attack Mansoul by Feel- gate. The cry was incessantly to be H : ■ .' fl Christian, depend nut upon yuur frames or feelings, but unou 350 THE HOLY WAR. to break into the town through that; the word that then he did give to his officers and soldiers, was Hell-fire. And, said he, if we break in upon them, as I wish we do, either with some, or with all our force, let them that break in look to it, that they forget not the word. And let nothing be heard in the town of Man soul but Hell-fire, Hell-fire, II ell-fire! The drummer was also to beat without ceasing, and the standard-bearers were to display their colours, the soldiers too were to put on what courage they could, and to see that they played manfully their parts against the town. So the night was come, and all things by the tyrant made ready for the work; he suddenly makes Feelgate but his assault upon Feelgate, and after weak. ]ie iiac] a while struggled there, he throws the gates wide open. For the truth is, those gates were but weak, and so most easily made to yield. When Diabolus had thus far made his attempt, he placed his captains, to wit, Tor- ment and Noease there, so he attempted to press forward, but the Prince's captains came down upon him, and made his entrance more difficult than he desired. And, to speak the truth, they made what resistance they could, but the three of their best and most valiant captains being wounded, and by When these their wounds made much incapable of three captains doinjrthe town that service the v would, are disabled, ° . / what can the and all the rest having more than their town of°Man- hands full of the Doubters, and their so,ll? captains that did follow Diabolus, they were overpowered with force, nor could they keep them out of the town. AVhcrefore the Prince's men and their captains betook themselves to the castle, as to the strong hold of the town, and this they did partly for their own security, partly for the security of the town, and partly, or rather chiefly, to preserve to Emmanuel the prerogative- royal of Mansoul, for so was the castle of Mansoul.1 The captains therefore being fled into the castle, the enemy, without much resistance, possess them- selves of the rest of the town, and spreading themselves as they went into every corner, thev cried out as they marched, according to the com- mand of the tyrant, Hell-lire, Hell-fire, Hell-fire! so that nothing for a while, throughout the town of Mansoul, could be heard but the direful noise of llell-fire, together with the roaring of Diabolus's The sad fruits drum." And now did the clouds hang ofapostacy. uacjc ovcr Mansoul, nor to reason did anything but ruin seem to attend it. Diabolus also quartered his soldiers in the houses of the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul. Yea, the the immutable and unchangeable Word of God. The terrors of hell will get hold upon him who trusts to bis experience, instead of fixing all his hopes in the Lord Jehovah. — (Ed.) 1 The heart. It is a blessed presage when thai is rigid with God; then may the sold, in the strength of the Lord, subordinate Treacher's house was as full of these outlandish Doubters as ever it could hold; and so was my Lord Mayor's, and my Lord Will-be-will's also. Yea, where was there a corner, a cottage, a barn, or a hog-stye, that now were not full of these vermin? yea, they turned the men of the town out of their houses, and would lie in their beds, and sit at their tables themselves. Ah> poor Mansoul ! Now thou feelest the fruits of sin, and what venom was in the flattering words of Mr. Carnal-security ! They made great havoc of what- ever they laid their hands on ; yea, they fired the town in several places, many young children also were by them dashed in pieces, yea, those that were yet Good and tender unborn they destroyed in their mother's thoughts, wombs ; for you must needs think that it could not now be otherwise ; for what conscience, what pity, what bowels of compassion can any expect at the hands of out-landish Doubters ; many Holy concep- in Mansoul that were women, both *"»» of good, young and old, they forced, ravished, and beast- like abused, so that they swooned, miscarried, and many of them died, and so lay at the top of every street, and in all by-places of the town. And now did Mansoul seem to be nothing but a den of dragons, an emblem of hell, and a place of total darkness. Now did Mansoul lie almost like the barren wilderness, nothing hut nettles, briars, thorns, weeds, and stinking things seemed now to cover the face of Mansoul. 1 told you before how that these Diaholonian Doubters turned the men of Mansoul out of their beds ; and now I will add, they wounded them, they mauled them, yea, and almost brained many of them. Many, did I say, yea^ most, if not all of them ; Mr. Conscience they so wounded, yea, and his wounds so festered, that he could gau work amoug have no ease day nor night, but lay as the townsmen if continually upon a rack; but that Shaddai rules all, certainly they had slain him outright. My Lord Mayor they so abused that they almost put out his eyes, and had not my Lord Will-be-will got into the castle, they intended to have chopped him all to pieces, for they did look upon him, as his heart now stood, to be one of the very worst that was in Mansoul against Diabolus Satan has a par- and his crew. And indeed he hath agahMtasanc- showed himself a man, and more of fcfiedwill. his exploits you will hear of afterwards. exult and say, 'Rejoice not against me, 0 mine enemy; for when 1 fall, I shall rise again.' — (Mason.) - ' I could neither eat my food, stoop for a pin, chop a stick, or cast mine eye to look on this or that, but still the temptation would come, Sell Christ for this, or sell Christ for that; sell him, sell him.' — Grace Abounding, No. 135. None but the experienced Christian knows the terror of Diabolus's drum. — (Ed.) I'lIR HOLY WAR. 351 Thoughts. Now a man might have walked For days together Mansoul, and scarce have seen one the town thai Looked Like a religious man. 0 the fearful state of Mansoul now! Now every corner swarmed with out-landish Doubters; The soul n,n of red-coats and black-coats ' walked the S thou$£ town by clusters, and filled up all the phemies. houses with hideous noises, vain Bongs, Lying stories, and blasphemous Language against Shaddai and his Son.-' Now. also, those Diabo- lonians that lurked in the walls and dens and hides that were in the town of Mansoul, came forth and showed themselves, yea, walked with open face in company with the Doubters that were in Mansoul. Yea, they had more boldness now to walk the streets, to haunt the houses, and to show themselves abroad, than had any of the honest inhabitants of the now woful town of Mansoul.8 But Diabolus and his out-landish men were not at peace in Mansoul, for they were not there en- tertained as were the captains and forces of Em- manuel ; the townsmen did browbeat them what they could; nor did they partake or make stroy4 of any of the necessaries of Mansoul, but that which they seized on against the townsmen's will; what they could they hid from them, and what they could not they had with an ill-will. They, poor hearts, had rather have had their room than their company, but they were at present their captives, and their captives for the present they were forced to be. r.o. vii. But, I say, they dis- countenanced them as much as they were able, and showed them all the dislike that they could.5 The captains also from the castle did hold them in continual play with their slings, to the chasing and fretting of the minds of the enemies. True, Mr. Godly-fear Diabolus made a great many attempts ofmufeekSe t0 mive broken open the gates of the sates- castle, but Mr. Godly-fear was made the keeper of that; and he was a man of that cour- age, conduct and valour, that it was in vain, as long- as life lasted within him, to think to do that work though mostly desired, wherefore all the attempts 1 How hard but just a blow is this to the pompous pride both of the military and clerical orders. In Buuyan's time, both these professions were filled with the friendsand followers nf ] liabolus. The black coats are, in our day, much reformed. —(Ed.) - Such is the dreadful nature of unbelief! It is the minister of confusion, lying, vanity, and blaspheming against thi fulness of a covenant God. — (Masou.) 3 Imagine a poor harassed soul, a member of a I church, in this lamentable state. What would thi ciders, and church do with him? How would somi lie is a disgrace to us, ami ought to be cast out ! Alas 1 pi that Diabolus made against him were fruitless. I have wished sometimes that that man had had the whole rule of the town of .Mansoul.'1 Well, this was the condition of the town of Man- soul for about two years and an hall'; the body of tin: town was the scat of MhmouT1 the war;7 the people of the town were " ""' "*• driven into holes, and tie- glory of Mansoul was laid in the dust; what rest then could be to the in- habitants, what peace could .Mansoul have, and what sun could shine upon it I had the enemy lain so Long without in the plain against the town, it had been enough to have famished them; but now when they shall he within, when the town shall ho their tent, their trench, and fort against the castle that was in the town when the town shall he against the town, and shall serve to be a defence to the enemies of her strength and life: 1 say, when they shall make use of the forts, and town-holds, to se- cure themselves in, even till they shall take, spoil, and demolish the castle, this was terrible; and yet this was now the state of the town of Mansoul.8 After the town of Mansoul had been in thi-, sad and lamentable condition for so Long a time as I have told you, and no petitions that they presented their Prince with, all this while, could prevail; the inhabitants of the town, to wit, the elders and chief of Mansoul gathered together, and after some time spent in condoling their miserable state, and this miserable judgment coming upon them, they agreed together to draw up yet another pe- M|.( ( tition, and to send it away to Em- manuel for relief. But Mr. Godly-fear a petition to stood up, and answered, that lie knew tLu Prmce- that his Lord the Prince never did, nor ever would receive a petition for the.se matters from the hand of any whoever, unless tne Lord Secretary's hand was to it; and this, quoth he, is the reason that ymt prevailed not all this while. Then they said, they would draw up one, and get the Lord Secret- ary's hand to it.!j But Mr. Godly-fear answered 5 This is an awful representation of the state of a soul over- whelmed with distressing doubts of God's love, and fear of eternal destruction. 'Torment' and 'Noease' take possession of the feelings. The understanding is darkened, and the con- science wounded ; while a crowd of ii I vanities, and blasphemies increase the confusion and dismay. — (En.) " Pot and admirable trt atise on the ' Tear of God,' see Bunyan's Works, vol. i. p. 437- — (En.) • 'Nothing now, for two years together, would abide with me, bul damnation, and an expectation of damnation.' — Grace ivg, No. 142.— (Ed.) In the midst of all this misery, the i or, in bouI, he would get rid of the doubters if he could. While (be rt remains right with God, G fear of God is in his heart, pray for him, cherish him, but cast him not out. — (Ed.) 1 ' Stroy,' obsolete, me Some tin brenne.' It was altered, in 1707, to 'make destruction.'— (Ed.) per of it. In many a sou] wh< re distressing perhaps for years, yet the fear nf God is in the heart, so that it still cleavi - to him and o] pi si s sin. — (Burder.) ;| Prayer nam be by the aid of the Holy Spirit and the understanding also, faith makes it availing in the name of 352 THE HOLT WAT?, The employed to vnn ? draw up a pe- tition for Man- soul. again, that he knew also that the Lord Secretary would not set his hand to any petition that himself had not a hand in composing and drawing up; and besides, said he, the Prince doth know my Lord Secretary's hand from all the hands in the world; wherefore he cannot he deceived by any pretence whatever ; wherefore my advice is, that you go to my Lord, and implore him to lend you his aid. Now he did yet abide in the castle where all the captains and men at arms were. So they heartily thanked Mr. Godly-fear, took his counsel, and did as he had bidden them ; so they went and came to my Lord, and made known the cause of their coming to him, to wit, that since Mansoul was in so deplorable a condition, his high- ness would be pleased to undertake to draw up a pe- tition for them to Emmanuel, the Son of the mighty Shaddai, and to their King and his Father by him. Then said the Secretary to them, What petition is Secretary lt tnat y0U wou^ nave me draw up for you? But they said, Our Lord knows best the state and condition of the town of Mansoul ; and how we are back- slidden and degenerated from the Prince; thou also knowest who is come up to war against us, and how Mansoul is now the seat of war.1 My Lord knows, moreover, what barbarous usages our men, women, and children have suhered at their hands, and how our home-bred Diabolonians do walk now with more boldness than dare the townsmen in the streets of Mansoul. Let our Lord, therefore, ac- cording to the wisdom of God that is in him, draw up a petition for his poor servants to our Prince Emmanuel. Well, said the Lord Secretary, I will draw up a petition for you, and will also set my hand thereto. Then said they, But when shall we call for it at the hands of our Lord ? but he answered, Yourselves must be present at the doing of it. Yea, you must put your desires to it. True, the hand and pen shall be mine, but the ink and paper must be yours, else how can you say it is your pe- tition ? nor have I need to petition for myself, be- cause I have not offended. lie also addeth as followeth, No petition goes from me in my name to the Prince, and so to his Father by him, but when the people that are chiefly concerned therein do join in heart and soul in the matter, for that must be inserted therein.2 Christ. See Buuynn's admirable treatise on ' Praying in the Spirit,' vol. i. ]). 621. — (Kp ) 1 The Christian's life is a warfare against the world, the flesh, and the devil; but an evil heart of unbelief is that spirit- ual Goliath which we should constantly intreat the Captain of oni salvation to subdue. — (Mason.) - This is an illustration of that text, 'The Spirit helpeth our infirmities, for we know no! what we should pray tor as we ought.' l>'o. viii. 20. And blessed be God, 'He will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him.' l,u. \i. 13. — (Burder.) 3 ' I\'ow hell rageth, the devil warretb, and all the world reaolveth to do the best they can to bring the soul into bond- So they did heartily agree with the sentence of the Lord, and a petition was forthwith drawn up for them. But now who should carry it, that was next. But the Secretary d^wn^'and advised that Captain Credence should scnt 7, E"'" * rnanuel by tlie carry it, for he was a well-spoken man. hand of "Cap- They, therefore, called for him, and propounded to him the business. Well, said the captain, I gladly accept of the motion ; and though I am lame, I will do this business for you with as much speed, and as well as I can. The contents of the petition were to this purpose — ' 0 our Lord and Sovereign Prince Emmanuel, the potent, the long-suffering Prince: The contents of grace is poured into thy lips, and to their Petition- thee belongs mercy and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against thee. We who are no more worthy to be called thy Mansoul, nor yet fit to partake of common benefits, do beseech thee, and thy Father by thee to do away our transgressions. We confess that thou mightest cast us away for them, but do it not for thy name's sake ; let the Lord rather take an opportunity at our miserable condition, to let out his bowels and compassions to us; we are compassed on every side, Lord, our own backslidings reprove us ; our Diabolonians within our town fright us, and the army of the angel of the bottomless pit distresses us. Thy grace can be our salvation, and whither to go but to thee we knownot. ' Furthermore, 0 gracious Prince, we have weak- ened our captains, and they are discouraged, sick, and of late some of them grievously worsted and beaten out of the field by the power and force of the tyrant. Yea, even those of our captains in whose valour we did formerly use to put most of our confidence, they are as wounded men. Besides, Lord, our enemies are lively, and they are strong, they vaunt and boast themselves, and do threaten to part us among themselves for a booty. They are fallen also upon us, Lord, with many thousand Doubters, such as with whom we cannot tell what to do ; they are all grim-looked, and unmerciful ones, and they bid defiance to us and thee.3 4 Our wisdom is gone, our power is gone, because thou art departed from us, nor have we what we may call ours hut sin, shame, and confusion of face for sin.4 Take pity upon us, 0 Lord, take pity upon us, thy miserable town of Mansoul, and save us out of the hands of our enemies. Amen.' age and ruin. Also, the soul shall not want enemies in its own heart's lust— as covetousness, adultery, blasphemy, unbe- lief, hardness of heart, coldness, ignorance; with an innumei- able company of attendants hanging at its heels, ready to sink it into the lire of hell every moment.' — Bunyan's Law and Grace, vol. i. p. 54G. Who can number his thoughts., even his evil thoughts, that, like legions, war against the soul's peace? — (Ed.) "' ' "W Inch burden also did so oppress me, that I could neither stand, nor go, nor lie, either at rest or quiet.' — Grace Abo und- imj, No. 165. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR. S53 This petition as was touched afore, was handed by the Lord Secretary, and carried to the court hy the brave and most stout Captain Credence. Now he carried it out at Mouthgate, for that, as I said, was the sally-port of the town ; and he went and came to Emmanuel with it. Now how it came out, I do not know, hut for certain it did, and that so far as to reach the ears of Diabolus. Thus I con- clude, because that the tyrant had it presently by the end, and charged the town of Mansoul with it, saying, Thou rehellious and stubborn-hearted Man- Satan cannot S0UW I will make thee to leave oil abide prayer, petitioning ; art thou yet for petition- ing ? I will make thee to leave. Yea, he also knew who the messenger was that carried the petition to the Prince, and it made him both to fear and rage. Wherefore he commanded that his drum should be beat again, a thing that Mansoul could not abide to hear ; but when Diaholus will have his drum beat, Mansoul must abide the noise. Well, the drum was beat, and the Diabolonians were gathered together. Then said Diabolus, 0 ye stout Diabolonians, be it known unto you that there is treachery hatched against us in the rebellious town of Man- soul ; for albeit the town is in our possession, as you see, yet these miserable Mansoulians have at- tempted to dare, and have been so hardy as yet to send to the court to Emmanuel for help. This I give you to understand, that ye may yet know how to carry it to the wretched town of Mansoul. Wherefore, 0 my trusty Diabolonians, I command that yet more and more ye distress this town of Mansoul, and vex it with your wiles, ravish their Avomen, deflower their vir- gins, slay their children, brain their ancients, lire their town, and what other mischief you can ; and let this be the reward of the Mansoulians from me, for their desperate rebellions against me.1 This you see was the charge, but something stepped in betwixt that and execution, for as yet there was but little more done than to rage. Moreover, when Diabolus had done thus, he went the next way up to the castle-gates, and demanded that, upon pain of death, the gates should he opened to him, and that entrance should be given him and his men that followed after. To whom Mr. Godly-fear replied — for he it was that had the 1 When temptations beset, sin invades, lusts rage, evil tempers arise, and wc are in danger of falling, then is the time to look up and cry, Lord save, or I perish. — (Mason.) These vexations are the holy thoughts and feelings, which Diaholus and his crew prevent or suppress. Tins is explained in the margin, p. 350. — (Ed.) 2 Alluding to the sufferings of Christian and Hopeful in the dungeon of Giant Despair, ia Doubting Castle. — (Ed.) 3 When the shield of faith is wanting, the sold is exposed to all the fiery darts of the wicked one. ' This is the victory, even, our faith.' — (Mason.) . VOL. III. charge of that gate— that the gate should not bo opened unto him, nor to the men that followed after him. He said, moreover, that Mansoul, when she had suffered awhile, should be made perfect, strengthened, settled, l re. v. 10. Then said Diabolus, Deliver mo then the men that havo petitioned against me, espe- Sat.in cannot cially Captain Credence that carried it a',ulc faitl1- to your Prince; deliver that varlet into my hand.-;, and I will depart from the town. Then up starts a Diabolonian, whoso name was Mr. Fooling, and said, My lord offer- eth you fair, it is better for you that one man perish, than that your whole Mansoul should be undone. But Mr. Godly-fear made him this replication. How long will Mansoul be kept out of the dungeon, - when she hath given up her faith to Diabolus? As good lose the town as lose Captain Credence ; for if one be gone, the other must follow.3 But to that Mr. Fooling said nothing. Then did my Lord Mayor reply, and said, 0 thou devouring tyrant, be it known unto thee, wo shall hearken to none of thy words ; we are resolved to resist thee as long as a captain, a man, a sling, and a stone to throw at thee, shall be found in the town of Mansoul. But Diabolus answered, Do ytm hope, do you wait, do you look for help and deliverance ? You have sent to Emmanuel, but your wickedness sticks too close in your skirts, to let innocent prayers come out of your lips.4 Think you that you shall be prevailers and prosper in this design? You will fail in your wish, you will fail in your attempts ; for it is not only I, but your Emmanuel is against you. rs. xlfL to. Yea, it is he that hath sent me against you to subdue you ; for what then do you hope, or by what means will you escape ? Then said the Lord Mayor, We have sinned in- deed, but that shall be no help to thee, for our Emmunuel hath said it, and crtspeechjiut that in great faithfulness: 'And him ^Um. ft that cometh to me I will in no wise Captain Cre- cast out.' He hath also told us, 0 our enemy, that all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to the sons of men. Therefore we dare not despair, but will look for, wait for, ami hope for deliverance still.0 Now by this time Captain Credence was returned and come from the court from Emmanuel to the Diabolus ra?e». 4 How true is this remark of the enemy of souls ! Onr holiest services must he sanctified in the name of the iicdeenier. Diabolus can tell truth when it is to his purpose, in distra sing a saint, or destroying a sinner. — (Ed.) 6 Portions of Scripture were the weapons with which our Lord conquered Satan, when tempted in the wilderness. Poor tried soul, you may rely with the must perfect confidence on the Scriptures for support in the most trying hour. 'Though it tarry, wait for it ; because it will surely come.' Hab. ii. 3. Any ether support is but like a broken reed. — (Ed.) 854 THE HOLY WAR. castle of Mansoul, and he returned to them with a packet. So my Lord Mayor hearing that Captain Credence was come, withdrew himself from the noise of the roaring of the tyrant, and left him to yell at the wall of the town,- or against the gates of the castle. So he came up to the captain's lodgings, and saluting him, he asked him of his welfare, and what was the best news at court ? But when he asked Captain Credence that, the water stood in his eyes. Then said the captain, Cheer up, my Lord, for all will be well in time ; and with that he first produced his packet, and laid A sign of good- & Dv> Dut that the Lord Mayor and the uess- rest of the captains took for a sign of good tidings. Now a season of grace being come, he sent for all the captains and elders of the town that were here and there in their lodgings in the castle, and upon their guard, to let them know that Captain Credence was returned from the court, and that he had something in general, and something in special to communicate to them. So they all came up to him, and saluted him, and asked him concerning his journey, and what was the best news at the court ? And he answered them as he had done the Lord Mayor before, that all would be well at last. Now when the captain had thus saluted The packet them, he opened his packet, and opened. thence did draw out his several notes for those that he had sent for. And the first note was for my Lord Mayor, wherein was signified : That the Prince Emmanuel had taken it well A note for my that my Lord Mayor had been so true Lord Mayor. anci trusty in his office, and the great concerns that lay upon him for the town and people of Mansoul ; also he bid him to know that he took it well that he had been so bold for his Prince Emmanuel, and had engaged so faithfully in his cause against Diabolus. He also signified at the close of his letter, that he should shortly receive his reward. The second note that came out was for the noble \ note for the Lord Will-be-will, wherein there was Lord Will-be- signified, That his Prince Emmanuel did well understand how valiant and courageous he had been for the honour of his Lord, now in his absence, and when his name was under contempt by Diabolus. There was signified also that his Prince had taken it well that he had been so faithful to the town of Mansoul in his keeping of so strict a hand and eye over, and so strict a rem upon the necks of the Diabolonians that did still lie lurking in their several holes in the famous town of Mansoul. He signified, moreover, how that he understood that my lord had with his own hand done great execution upon some of the chief of the rebels there, to the great discouragement of the adverse party, and to the good example of the whole town of Mansoul, and that shortly his lordship should have his reward. The third note came out for the subordinate Preacher, wherein was signified, That A note fo_ tlie his Prince took it well from him that subordinate he had so honestly and so faithfully performed his office, and executed the trust com- mitted to him by his Lord while he exhorted, re- buked, and fore-warned Mansoul according to the laws of the town. He signified moreover, that he took well at his hand that he called to fasting, to sackcloth and ashes, when Mansoul was under her revolt. Also that he called for the aid of the Cap- tain Boanerges to help in so weighty a work, and that shortly he also should receive his reward. The fourth note came out for Mr. Godly-fear wherein his Lord thus signified, That A note for Mr. his Lordship observed that he was the Godiy-iear. first of all the men in Mansoul that detected Mr. Carnal-security, as the only one that through his subtilty and cunning had obtained for Diabolus, a defection and decay of goodness in the blessed town of Mansoul. Moreover, his Lord gave him to un- derstand that he still remembered his tears and mourning for the state of Mansoul. It was also observed by the same note, that his Lord took notice of his detecting of this Mr. Carnal-security, at his own table among his guests, in his own house, and that in the midst of his jolliness, even while he was seeking to perfect his villainies against the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel also took notice that this reverend person, Mr. Godly-fear, stood stoutly to it at the gates of the castle, against all the threats and attempts of the tyrant, and that he had put the townsmen in a way to make their petition to their Prince, so as that he might accept thereof, and as that they might obtain an answer of peace; and that therefore shortly he should reeeive his reward. After all this, there was yet produced a note which was written to the whole town A note foi. t]ie of Mansoul, whereby they perceived town of ffisa- that their Lord took notice of their so often repeating of petitions to him, and that they should see more of the fruits of such their doings in time to come. Their Prince did also therein tell them, That he took it well, that their heart and mind now at last abode fixed upon him and his ways, though Diabolus had made such inroads upon them, and that neither flatteries on the one hand, nor hardships on the other, could make them yield to serve his cruel designs. There was also inserted at the bottom of this note, That his Lord- ship had left the town of Mansoul in the hands of the Lord Secretary, and under the conduct of Cap- tain Credence, saying, Beware that you yet yield yourselves unto their governance, and in due time I you shall receive your reward. THE HOLY WAR. S55 So after the brave Captain Credence had dc- _ .*. r livered his notes to those to whom Captain Cre- . _ , dence retirrs they belonged, he retired lnmself to to the Lord T j o » 1 J • 1 Secretary's my Lord Secretary s lodgings, and lodgings. there spends time in conversing with him; for they two were very great one with another, and did indeed know more how things would go with Mansoul than did all the townsmen besides. The Lord Secretary also loved the Captain Cre- dence dearly ; yea, many a good bit was sent him from my Lord's table; also he might have a show of countenance when the rest of Mansoul lay un- der the clouds; so after some time for converse was spent the Captain betook himself to his chambers to rest. But it was not long after but my Lord did scud for the captain again. So the captain came to him, and they greeted one another with usual salutations. Then said the captain to the Lord Secretary, What hath my Lord to say to his ser- vant ? So the Lord Secretary took him, and had him a-to-side,1 and after a sign or two of more favour, he said, I have made thee the dencemadethe Lord's lieutenant over all the forces in SSSSS Mansoul, so that from this day for- forces in Man- vvard, all men in Mansoul shall be at thy word, and thou shalt be he that shall lead in, and that shalt lead out Mansoul. Thou shalt therefore manage, according to thy place, the war for thy Prince, and for the town of Mansoul, against the force and power of Diabolus, and at thy command shall the rest of the captains be. Now the townsmen began to perceive what in- terest the captain had, both with the court, and also with the Lord Secretary in Mansoul ; for no man before could speed when sent, nor bring such good news from Emmanuel as he. Wherefore what do they, after some lamentation that they made no more use of him in their distresses, but send by their subordinate Preacher to the Lord Secretary, to desire him that all that ever they were and had, might be put under the government, care, custody, and conduct of Captain Credence.2 So their preacher went and did his errand, and received this answer from the mouth MMsoulcnwes of his Lord, that Captain Credence unlrurcon- should be the great doer in a11 thc duct of Captain King's army, against the King's ene- mies, and also for the welfare of Man- soul. So he bowed to the ground, and thanked his Lordship, and returned and told his news to the townsfolk. But all this was done with all imagffi- 1 ' A-to-side,' obsolete, aside, in private, or out of hearing. —(Ed.) 2 The design of this is to show that the soul is to live by faith, and not by sense. The Spirit of God puts honour upon faith, and makes him chief-captain of the town. This is a prelude to victory over the Doubters. — (Binder.) able secrecy, because the foes had yet great strength in thc town. But, to return to our story again : [Chapter XVI.] [Contents : — A new plot is laid to ruin thc town by riche3 and prosperity — Emmanuel, according to his pr appears in thc field, to assist the forces of Mansoul, whereby thc whole army of Doubters is completely ranted — Emmanuel enters the town amidst the joyful acclama- tions of the inhabitants.] When Diabolus saw himself thus boldly con- fronted by thc Lord Mayor, and perceived the stoutness of Mr. Godly-fear, he fell into a rage, and forthwith called a council of war, that he might be revenged on Man- soul. So all thc princes of the pit came together, and "old Incredulity in the head of them, with all the captains of his army. So they consult what to do. Now the effect and conclusion of thc council that day, was how they might take the castle; be- cause they could not conclude themselves masters of the town, so long as that was in the possession of their enemies. So one advised this way, and another advised that ; but when they could not agree in their verdict, Apollyon, that president of the coun- cil, stood up, and thus he began: My brotherhood, quoth he, I have two things to propound unto you; and my first is this; let us withdraw ourselves from the town into the plain again, for our presence here will do us no good, because the castle is yet in our enemy's hands ; nor is it possible that we should take that so long as so many brave captains are in it, and that this bold fellow Godly-fear is made the keeper of the gates of it. Now when we have withdrawn ourselves into the plain, they, of their own accord, will he glad of some little ease ; and it may be, of their own ac- cord, they again may begin to be remiss;8 and even their so being, will give them a bigger Loot toit, Man- blow than we can possibly give them souJ- ourselves. But if that should fail, our going forth of the town may draw the captains out after us, and you know what it cost them, when we fought them in the field before. Besides, can we but draw them out into the field, we may lay an ambush be- hind thc town, which shall, when they arc come forth abroad, rush in, and take possession of the castle. But Beelzebub stood up, and replied, saying, It is impossible to draw them all off from the castle; some you may be sure will lie there to keep that ; wherefore it will be but b vain thus to attempt, unless we were sure that they will all come out. lie therefore concluded that what was done, must be done by some other means. And the most 3 A state of spiritual case and prosperity has its dangers ; we must, by the Word and Spirit, in the strength of Jesus, fight every inch of our way to heaven and glory. — (Mason.) THE HOLY WAS. likely means that the greatest of their heads could invent, was that which Apollyon had advised to Look to it, Man- hefore, to wit, to get the townsmen soul. again to sin. For, said he, it is not our being in the town, nor in the field, nor our fight- ing, nor our killing of their men, that can make us the masters of Mansoul ; for so long as one in the town is able to lift up his finger against us, Em- manuel will take their parts ; and if he shall take their parts, we know what time a-day, it will be with us.1 Wherefore, for my part, quoth he, there is, in my judgment, no way to bring them into bondage to us, like inventing a way to make them sin. 2 Pc, ii. is— 21. Had we, said he, left all our Doubters at home, Ave had done as well as we have done now, unless we could have made them the masters and governors of the castle ; for Doubters Looktoit.Man- at a distance, are but like objections soul refelled with arguments. Indeed can we but get them into the hold, and make them possessors of that, the day will be our own. Let us therefore withdraw ourselves into the plain (not expecting that the captains in Mansoul should follow us), but yet, I say, let us do this, and before we so do, let us advise again with our trusty Dia- bolonians that are yet in their holds of Mansoul, and set them to work to betray the town to us ; for they indeed must do it, or it will be left undone for ever. By these sayings of Beelzebub — for I think it was he that gave this counsel — the whole Look to it, conclave was forced to be of his opinion, Mansoul. to AyJt> fa^ tJie way to get tJle castle Was to get the town to sin. Then they fell to invent- ing by what means to do this thing.2 Then Lucifer stood up and said, The counsel of Beelzebub is pertinent ; now the way to bring this to pass, in mine opinion, is this : Let us with- draw our force from the town of Mansoul, let us do this and let us terrify them no more, either with summons or threats, or with the noise of our drum, or any other awakening means. Only let us lie in the field at a distance, and be as if we regarded them not ; for frights I see do but awaken them, and make them stand more to their arms. I have also another stratagem in my head: You know Mansoul is a market town ; and a town that de- lights in commerce ; what therefore if some of our Diabolonians shall feign themselves far country- men, and shall go out and bring to the market of Mansoul some of our wares to sell; and what matter at what rates they sell their wares, though it be 1 ' Satan trembles when lie sees The meanest saint upon his knees.' 2 The great object of Satan is to allure Mansoul to sin. He can never win the heart, or castle, unless sin opens the gates. — (Ed.) 3 ' Penny-wise and pound-foolish ' is a well-known proverb, showing the folly of those who lose a pound to gain a penny. 1 Get i' th' hundred and lose i' th' slure ' is an obsolete proverb, but for half the worth. Now, let those that thus shall trade in their market, be those that are witty and true to us, and I will lay my crown to pawn it will do. There are two that are come to my thoughts already, that I think will be arch at this work, and they are Mr. Penny-wise-pound-foolish, and Mr. Get-i'th' -hundred- and-lose-i'th '-shire ;3 nor is this man with the long name at all inferior to the other. What also if you join with them Mr. Sweet- world, and Mr. Present-good; they are men that are civil and cunning, but our true friends and helpers. Let these with as many more engage in this business for us, and let Mansoul be taken up in much business, and let them grow full and rich, and this is the way to get ground of them ; remember ye not that thus we prevailed upon Laodicea, and how many at present do we hold in this snare ? Re. iii. 17. Now when they begin to grow full, they will forget their misery, and if we shall not affright them they may happen to fall asleep, and so be got to neglect their town-watch, their castle-watch, as well as their watch at the gates. Yea, may we not by this means so cumber Man- soul with abundance, that they shall be forced to make of their castle a warehouse instead of a gar- rison fortified against us, and a receptacle for men of war.4 Thus if we get our goods, and commo- dities thither, I reckon that the castle is more than half ours. Besides, could we so order it, that it should be filled with such kind of wares, then if we made a sudden assault upon them, it would be hard for the captains to take shelter there. Do you know that of the parable, The deceitfulness of riches choke the word. Lu. vm. 14. And again, When the heart is overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness, and the cares of this life, all mischief comes upon them at unawares. Lu. xxi. 34-3G. Furthermore, my lords, quoth he, you very well know that it is not easy for a people to be filled with our things, and not to have some of our Dia- bolonians as retainers to their houses and services. Where is a Mansoulian that is full of this world, that has not for his servants, and waiting-men, Mr. Profuse, or Mr. Prodigality, or some other of our Diabolonian gang, as Mr. Voluptuous, Mr. Pragmatical, Mr. Ostentation, or the like ? Now these can take the castle of Mansoul, or blow it up, or make it unfit for a garrison for Em- Look to it, Man- manuel ; and any of these will do. souI- Yea, these, for aught I know, may do it for us sooner than an army of twenty thousand men. meaning that as a shire or county contains many divisions called hundreds, it would be foolish to lose a county for the sake of gaining a small part of a county called a huudrcd. — (Ed.) 4 Great is the danger when the heart, here called the castle, which should be the temple of the Lord, is turned into a warehouse. — Border. THE HOLY WAR. 357 Wherefore, to end as I began, my advice is, that •\ve quietly withdraw ourselves, not offering- any farther force, or forcible attempts upon the castle, at least at this time, and let us set on foot our new project, and lets see if that "will not make them destroy themselves.1 This advice was highly applauded by them all, and was accounted the very master-piece uf hell ; to wit, to choke Mansoul with a fulness of this world, and to surfeit her heart with the good things ^^_ thereof. But see how things meet to- J gethcr; just as this Diabolonian coun- Cnptain Crc. ci\ was broken u« Captain Credence dence receives x ' i that from his received a letter from Emmanuel, the he understand- contents of which was this, That upon ettinot tne t]m.ti Qay jlc wouicl mc(jt jlim ju the field in the plains about Mansoul. Meet me in the held ! quoth the captain, what meaneth my Lord by this ? I know not what he meaneth by meeting of me in the field. So he took the note in his hand, and did carry it to my Lord Secretary, to ask his thoughts thereupon ; for my Lord was a seer in all matters concerning the King, and also for the good and comfort of the town of Mansoul. So he showed my Lord the note, and desired his opinion thereof: for my part, quoth Captain Cre- dence, I know not the meaning thereof. So my Lord did take and read it, and after a little pause he said, The Diabolonians have had against Mansoul a great consultation to-day; they have, I say, this day been contriving the utter ruin of the town; and the result of their council is, to set Mansoul into such a way, which, if taken, will surely make her destroy herself. And to this end they are making ready for their own departure out of the town, in- tending to betake themselves to the field again, and there to lie till they shall see whether this their project will take or no. But be thou ready, with the men of thy Lord, for on the third day they will be in the plain; there to fall upon the Diabolonians; for the Prince will by that time be in the field ; The riddle ex- yea, by that it is break of day, sun- cap?amd c£ "sing, or before, and that with a deuce. mighty force against them. So he shall be before them, and thou shalt be behind them, and betwixt you both their army shall be destroyed. When Captain Credence heard this, away goes he to the rest of the captains, and tells them what _ . . a note he had a while since received The captains are , gladded to from the hand of Emmanuel. And, said he, that which was dark therein, has my Lord, the Lord Secretary, expounded unto 1 Well may Bunyan say, 'Look to it, Mansoul P How rarely do men grow rich and prosperous without entertaining these Diabolonians — profusion, prodigality, pride, &C.I These are more destructive to the soul than an army of external foes. — (Burder.) me. lie told them moreover, what by himself, and by them, must be done to answer the mind of their Lord. Then were the captains glad, and Captain Credence commanded that all .i tr- > . , ill i Curious music the iving s trumpeters should ascend made by the to the battlements of the castle, and trBBpetm' there in the audience of Diabolus, and of the whole town of Mansoul, make the best music that heart could invent. The trumpeters then did as they were commanded. They got themselves up to the top of the castle, and thus they began to sound ; then did Diabolus start, and said, What can be the meaning of this, they neither sound boot and saddle, nor horse and away, nor a charge? What do these mad men mean, that yet they should bo so merry and glad ? Then answered him one of themselves and said, This is for joy that their Prince Emmanuel is coming to relieve the town of Mansoul ; that to this end he is at the head of an army, and that this relief is near. The men of Mansoul also were greatly concerned at this melodious charm of the trumpets. They said, yea, they answered one another, saying, This can be no harm to us ; surely this can be no harm to us. Then said the Diabolonians, _. . , Diabolus with« What had we best to do ? And it was drawafromthe answered, It was best to quit the town ; and that, said one, Ye may do in pursuance of your last council, and by so doing, also be better able to give the enemy battle, should an army from without come upon us. So on the second day they withdrew themselves from Mansoul, and abode in the plains without ; but they encamped themselves before Eyegate, hi what terrene and terrible" manner they could. The reason why they would not abide in the town, besides the reasons that were debated in their late conclave, was, for that they were not possessed of the stronghold, and because, said they, we shall have more convenience to fight, and also to fly, if need be, when wo are encamped in the open plains. Besides, the town would have been a pit for them rather than a place of defence, had the Prince come up, and enclosed them fast therein. Therefore they betook themselves to the field, that they might also be out of the reach of the slings,1' by which they were much annoyed all the while that they were in the town. Well, the time that the captains were to fall upon the Diabolonians beini; come, _,, .. i o * Hie time com' they eagerly prepared themselves for forthei J j- n x ■ n i ti to fight them. action ; for Captain Credence had told the captains over night that they should meet their Prince in the field to-morrow. This there- fore made them yet far more desirous to be engag- ing the enemy, for, You shall see the Prince in the 2 'Terrene and terrible,' dreadful to mortals. — (Ed.) 3 Portions from the Bible, probably meaning the of the New Testament. — (En.) S5S THE HOLY WAR. field to-morrow, was like oil to a flaming fire ; for of a long time they had been at a distance, they therefore were for this the more earnest and desirous of the work. So, as I said, the hour being come, Captain Credence, with the rest of They draw out the men °f war> drew out their forces into the field. ^efore it were day by the sally-port of the town. And being all ready, Captain Credence went up to the head of the army, and gave to the rest of the captains the word, and so they to their under-officers and soldiers. The word was, The sword of the Prince Em- manuel, and the shield of Captain Credence, which is, in the Mansoulian tongue, The word of God and faith. Then the captains fell on, and began roundly to front, and flank, and rear Diabolus's camp.1 Now they left Captain Experience in the town, because he was yet ill of his wounds which the Captain Expe- Diabolonians had given him in the rience will ti-ht ]ast fifldit. But when he perceived lor lus Prmce •? . l. upon his that the captains were at it, what does he, but, calling for his crutches with haste, gets up, and away he goes to the battle, saying, Shall I lie here when my brethren are in the fight? and when Emmanuel the Prince will show himself in the field to his servants ? But when the enemy saw the man come with his crutches, they were daunted yet the more; for, thought they, what spirit has possessed these Mansoulians that they fight us upon their crutches! Well, the captains, as I said, fell on, and did bravely handle their weapons, still crying out and shouting, as they laid on blows, The sword of the Prince Emmanuel, and the shield of Captain Credence.2 Now when Diabolus saw that the captains were come out and that so valiantly they surrounded his men, he concluded, that for the present, nothing from them was to be looked for but blows, and the dints 3 of their two-edged sword. Wherefore he also falls on upon the Prince's army with all his deadly force. So the battle was joined. Now who was it that at first Diabolus met with in the fight, but Captain Credence on the one hand, and the Lord Wiii-be-wiu Will-be-will on the other ; now Will- engaged, -be-will's blows were like the blows of a giant, for that man had a strong arm, and he fell in upon the Election-doubters — for they were the life guard of Diabolus— and he kept them in play a good while, cutting and battering shrewdly. Credence Now when Captain Credence saw my engaged. Lor(1 ^gag^ ]le J^ stoutlj f&U ^ 1 How heartily, or, as Bunyan says, ' roundly,' can we fight our implacable foes, when thus armed with 'the Word of God, the sword of Emmanuel, and faith' — the shield of Credence! These are invincible weapons when the Holy Spirit enables us to use them. — (Ed.) The bat tie joined. on the other hand, upon the same company, also ; so they put them to great disorder.4 Now Cap- tain Goodhope had engaged the Voca- Goodiwpe tion-doubters, and they were sturdy engaged. men, but the captain was a valiant man. Captain Experience did also send him some aid, so he made the Vocation-doubters to retreat. The rest of the armies were hotly engaged, and that on every side, and the Diaholonians did fight stoutly. Then did my Lord Secretary command that the slings from the castle should be played, and his men The Lord Secre- could throw stones at anhair's breadth. tary engaged. But after a while; those that were made to fly before the captains of the Prince did begin to rally again, and they came up stoutly upon The tattle the rear of the Prince's army, where- renewed, fore the Prince's army began to faint, but remem- bering that they should see the face of their Prince by and by, they took courage, and a very fierce battle was fought. Then shouted the captains, saying, The sword of the Prince Em- manuel and the shield of Captain Cre- dence, and with that Diabolus gave back, thinking that more aid bad been come. But no Emmanuel as yet appeared ; moreover, the battle did hang in doubt, and they made a little retreat 1,1.1 -kt • i f They both retreat, on both sides. Now, in the time ot and, in the time respite, Captain Credence bravely en- ^n'^Credent courao-ed his men to stand to it, and ™a';es a sreech ta- i t i i ti ii i to his soldiers. Diabolus did the like as well as he could. But Captain Credence made a brave speech to his soldiers, the contents whereof here follow — Gentlemen soldiers, and my brethren in this design, it rejoiceth me much to see in the field for our Prince this day, so stout and so valiant au army, and such faithful lovers of Mansoul. You have hitherto, as hath become you, shown your- selves men of truth and courage against the Dia- bolonian forces, so that, for all their boast, they have not yet much cause to boast of their gettings. Now take to yourselves your wonted courage, and show yourselves men even this once only, for in a few minutes after the next engagement this time, you shall see your Prince show himself in the field, for we must make this second assault upon this tyrant Diabolus, and then Emmanuel comes. No sooner had the captain made this speech to his soldiers, but one Mr. Speedy came post to the captain from the Prince, to tell him that Em- manuel was at hand. This news, when the cap- tain had received, he communicated to the other field-officers, and they again to their soldiers and 2 ' Kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation.' 1 Pe. i. 5.— (Ed.) 3 ' Dints,' blows or strokes. — (Ed.) 4 Election-doubters are the devil's life-guard. When the will, strengthened by faith, attacks them, they are put into disorder, but not destroyed. These doubts are first attacked, [ for uutil they are routed the soul has no peace. — (Ed.) THE HOLY WAK. 359 inen of war. Wherefore, like men raised from the dead, so the captains and their men arose, made up to the enemy, and cried as before, The sword of the Princo Emmanuel, and the shield of Captain Credence. The Diaholonians also bestirred themselves and made resistance as well as they could, hut in this last engagement thcDiabolonianslost their courage, and many of the Doubters fell down dead to the ground. Now when they had been in heat of battle about an hour or more, Captain Credence lift up his eyes aud saw, and behold Emmanuel came, and he came with colours flying, trumpets sounding, and the feet of his men scarce touched the ground, they hasted with that celerity towards When the enemy tllc captains that were engaged. is betwixt ciinr-t Then did Credence wind with his and faith, tlicn , , , down they go to men to the townward, and gave to Diabolus the field. So Emmanuel came upon him on the one side, and the enemies place was betwixt them both, then again they fell to it afresh, and now it was but a little while more but Emmanuel and Captain Credence met, still trampling down the slain as they came. Put when the captains saw that the Prince was CGme, and that he fell upon the Diaholonians on the other side, and that Captain Credence and his Highness had got them up betwixt them, they shouted, they so shouted that the ground rent again, saying, The sword of Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence. Now when Diabolus saw that he and his forces were so hard beset by the Prince and his princely army, what does he, and the lords of the pit that were with him, but The victory fails make their escape and foresake their andEtoh™i army, and leave them to fall by the who slay all. hand of Emmanuel, and of his noble Captain Credence ; so they fell all down slain before them, before the Prince, and before his royal army ; there was not left so much as one doubter alive, they lay spread upon the ground dead men, as one would spread dung upon the land.1 When the battle was over all things came into order in the camp; then the captains and elders of Mansoul came together to salute Emmanuel, while without the corporation ; so they saluted him and welcomed him, and that with a thousand welcomes, .Mansoul salutes SoBg viii- *> *°r tllat lie WaS COm0 t0 tIlC the Prince with- borders of Mansoul again ; sohesmiled out; headdresses . . . . ~, , himseii togointo upon them and said, Peace be to you, lht lm "• [jn, a. 19.] Then they addressed them- 1 The presence of the Lord decides the contest. Doubts and fears cannot stand before the gracious manifestation of himself to the soul. ' But if Emmanuel's face appear, My hope, my joy begins; ITis name forbids my slavish fear, ilis grace removes my sins.' — (Border.) selves to go to the town, they went then to go up to Mansoul, they, the Prince, with all the new- forces that now he had brought with him to the war. Also all the gates of the town \. for his reception, so glad were they of his bl< return. And this was the manner and order of this going of his into Mansoul. First, as I said, all the gates of the town were set open, yea the gates of the castle also ; the elders too of the town of Mansoul placed them- selves at the gates of the town to salute him at his entrance thither; and so they did, The maimer of for as he drew near and approached °" ' ' towards the gates, they said, ' Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.' And they answered again, 'Who is the King of glory?' and they made return to themselves, ' The Lord strong aud mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates ; even lift tliem up ye everlasting doors.' rs. xxiv. 7-9. Secondly, It was ordered also by those of Man- soul, that all the way from the town-gates to those of the castle, his blessed Majesty should he enter- tained with the song, by them that had could best skill in music in all the town of Mansoul ; then did the elders and the rest of the men of Mansoul answer one another as Emmanuel entered the town, till he came at the castle-gates, with songs and soimd of trumpets, saying, * They have seen thy goings, 0 God, even the goings of my God, my King, in the sanctuary.' So 'the singers went before, the players on instruments followed after ; among them were the damsels playing with timbrels.' Fa. lxviiL 25. Thirdly, Then the captains — for I would speak a word of them — they in their order waited on the Prince as he entered into the gates of Man- soul. Captain Credence went before, and Cap- tain Goodhope with him ; Captain Charity came behind with other of his companions, and Captain Patience followed after all, and the rest of the captains — some on the right hand, some on the left — accompanied Emmanuel into Mansoul. And all the while the colours were displayed, the trumpets sounded, and continual shoutings were among the soldiers. The Prince himself rode into the town in his armour, which was all of beaten gold, and in his chariot, the pillars of it were of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it was of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love for the daughters of the town of Mansoul. Fourthly, When the Prince was come to the entrance of Mansoul, he found all the streets strewed with lilies and flowers, curiously decked with houghs and branches from the Good and joyful green trees that stood round about thoughts. the town. Every door also was filled with persons 360 :iIE HOLY WAR. who had adorned every one their fore-part against their house, •with something of variety and singular excellency to entertain him withall as he passed in the streets ; they also themselves, as Emmanuel passed hy, did welcome him with shouts and ac- clamations of joy, saying, Blessed be the Prince that cometh in the name of his Father Shaddai.1 Fifthly, At the castle-gates the elders of Man- soul, to wit, the Lord Mayor, the Lord Will-be- will, the subordinate Preacher, Mr. Knowledge, Mr. Mind, with other of the gentry of the place, saluted Emmanuel again. They bowed before him, they kissed the dust of his feet, they thanked, they blessed, and praised his Highness for not taking advantage against them for their sins, but rather had pity upon them in their misery, and returned to them with mercies, and to build up their Mansoul for ever. Thus was he had up straightway to the castle ; for that was the royal palace, and the place where his honour was to dwell; the which was ready prepared for his Highness by the presence of the Lord Secretary and the work of Captain Credence.2 So he entered in. Sixthly, Then the people and commonalty of the town of Mansoul came to him into the castle to mourn, and to weep, and to lament for their wickedness by which they had forced him out of the town. So they, when they were come, bowed themselves to the ground seven times, they also wept, they wept aloud, and asked forgiveness of the Prince, and prayed that he would again, as ef old, confirm his love to Mansoul. To the which the great Prince replied, "Weep not, but ' go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nought is prepared - for the joy of the Lord is your strength.' Ne. vm. 10. I am returned to Mansoul with mercies, and my name shall be set up, exalted, and magnified by it. He also took these inhabitants and kissed them, and laid them in his bosom. Moreover, he gave to the elders of Mansoul, and ,r. . , to each town-officer, a chain of e;old Hie holy con- . » ° . <-eptions uf and a signet. He also sent to their wives, ear-rings, and jewels, and Young and ten- bracelets, and other things. He also dcr holy bestowed upon the true-born children thoughts* of Mansoul many precious things. 1 How gladly is Jesus received 1 None but those who have experienced it cau tell how delightful and welcome is his presence to the soul that has long been vexed with an army of doubts. O let us beware of siu and unbelief, which caused him to withdraw and the doubts to enter. Well may the soul be humbled in the dust in the recollection of its backsliding. — (Burder.) Strewing the streets with flowers, and decorating the fronts of the houses, was customary, in Euuyan's time, in all royal processions. — (Ed.) - ' Giving them the rlolv Ghost; - purifying their hearts by faith.' Ac. xv. 8, 9.— (Ed.) When Emmanuel the Prince had done all these things for the famous town of Mansoul, then he said unto them, first, Wash your garments, then put on your ornaments, and then come to me into the castle of Mansoul. Ex. ix. 8. So they went to the fountain that was set open for Judah and Jer- usalem to wash in, Zee. xiii. i, and there they washed, and there they made their garments white, and came again to the Prince into the castle, and thus they stood before him. He. vii. 14, 15. . And now there was music and dancing through- out the whole town of Mansoul, and that because their Prince had again granted to them his pre- sence and the light of his countenance, the bells also did ring, and the sun shone comfortably upon them for a great while together,4 The town of Mansoul did also now more throughly seek the destruction and ruin of all remaining Dia- bolonians that abode in the walls and the dens that they had in the town of Mansoul, for there was of them that had to this day escaped with life and limb from the hand of their suppressors in the famous town of Mansoul.5 But my Lord Will-be-will was a greater terror to them now than ever he had been i n f. -i 1 • i Will-be-will a beiore ; forasmuch as Ins neart was greater terror to yet more fully bent to seek, contrive, ^thmhehad and pursue them to the death ; he been' ia former pursued them night and day, and did put them now to sore distress, as will afterwards appear. After things were thus far put into order in the famous town of Mansoul, care was taken and order given by the blessed Prince Emmanuel, that the townsmen should, without further delay, appoint some to go forth into the plain to bury 0:der5givenout the dead that were there — the dead to bury the that fell by the sword of Emmanuel and by the shield of the Captain Credence — lest the fumes and ill savours that would arise from them might infect the air, and so annoy the famous town of Mansoul. This also was a reason of this order, to wit, that as much as in Mansoul lay, they might cut off the name, and being, and remembrance of those enemies from the thought of the famous town of Mansoul and its inhabitants. So order was given out by the Lord Mayor — that wise and trusty friend of the town of Mansoul — that persons should be employed about this 3 The side notes are Banyan's key to the text, which, he says, 'Lieth there in the window.' See last lines of his address ' To the Reader.' — (Ed.) 4 Though comforts are cheering, let not the believer rest in them, neither be high-minded, but fear ; looking to Jesus for strength and grace to persevere. — (Mason.) 6 ' The joy of the Lord is our strength.' "When this is possessed, there will be a double diligence in searching out aud destroying our sins. — (Border.) THE HOLY WAR. 3G1 necessary business; and Mr. Godly-fear and one Mr. Upright were to be overseers about this matter ; so persons were put under them to work in the fields and to bury the slain that lay dead in the plains. And these were their places of employment — some were to make tho graves, some to bury the dead, and some were to go to and fro in the plains, and also round ahout the borders of Mansoul, to seo if Not a skull, or a * slal11' 0r * b°UC» or * PicCG °f a bone, or a piece bono of a Doubter was VCt to be t i b bone of a , , , Doubter to be left seen above ground anywhere near unbuned. ^ corp0ration ; and if any were found, it was ordered that tho searchers that searched should set up a mark thereby, and a sign, that those that were appointed to bury them might find it, and bury it out of sight, tliat the name and remembrance of a Diabolonian Doubter might be blotted out from under heaven. And that the children, and they that were to bo born in Mansoul, might not know, if possible, what a skull, what a boue, or a piece of a bone of a Doubter was. So the buriers, and those that were appointed for that purpose, did as they were commanded, they buried the Doubters, and all the skulls and bones, and pieces of bones of Doubters wherever they found them, and so they cleansed the plains. Now also Mr. God's-peace took up his commission and acted again as in former days. Thus they buried, in the plains about Mansoul, the Election-doubters, the Vocation-doubters, the Grace-doubters, the Perseverance-doubters, the Resurrection-doubters, the Salvation-doubters, and the Glory-doubters, whose captains were Captain Rage, Captain Cruel, Captain Damnation, Captain Insatiable, Captaiu Brimstone, Captain Torment, Captain Noease, Captain Sepulchre, and Captain Pasthope, and old Incredulity was under Diabolus their general ; there were also the seven heads of their army, and they were the Lord Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord Belial. But the princes and the captains, with old Incredulity their general, did all of them make their escape, so their men fell down slain by the power of the Prince's forces, and by the hands of the men of the town of Mansoul. They also were 1 Thus was the victory completed, and by this we are taught that doubts of the love of Christ, contrary to the declarations of his Word, should be utterly suppressed, as being infinitely dishonourable to our faithful covenant God, and unspeakably pernicious to our own souls. — (Burder.) Still we are not to forget the danger of their rising from the tomb again to dis- tress us, unless we are found constantly watchful and prayerful. When Greatheart and the Pilgrims had killed Despair, and destroyed Doubting Castle, and are rejoicing over the ruins, Bunyau thus warns them — 'Though Doubting Castle be demolished, Ai.d the Giant Despair hath lost his head, Sin can rebuild the castle, make it remain, And make Despair, the giant, live again.'— (Ed.) VOL. III. buried as before related, to the exceeding great joy of the now famous town of Mansoul. They that buried them, buried also with them their arms, which were cruel instruments of death, their wea- pons were arrows, darts, mauls, fire- brands, and the like; they buried also wmour buried their armour, their colours, banners, WItlltlll!m- Avith tho standard of Diabolus, and what else soever they could find that did but smell of a Diabolonian Doubter.1 [Chapter XVII.] [Contents:— A new army of Bloodmen, or persecutors, at- tack the town, but are surrounded by the Mausoulians, headed by Faith and Patience — The examination of some of the leaders — Evil-questioning entertains some of the Doubters, but is discovered by Diligence — The principal Doubters tried, convicted, and executed.] Now when the tyrant was arrived at Ilell-gate- hill, with his old friend Incredulity, they im- mediately descended the den, and having there, with their fellows, for a while condoled their mis- fortune and great loss that they sustained against the town of Mansoul, they fell at length into a passion, and revenged they would be for the loss that they sustained before the town of Mansoul, wherefore they presently call a council The tyrant rc- to contrive yet further what was to bo SS& with done against the famous town of Man- MsmsouL soul ; for their yawning paunches could not wait to see the result of their Lord Lucifer's and their Lord Apollyon's counsel that they had given before, for their raging gorge thought every day even as long as a short-for-ever, until they were filled with the body aud soul, with the flesh and bones, and with all the delicates of Mansoul. They therefore resolve to make another attempt upon the town of Mansoul, and that by an army mixed, and mado up, partly of Doubters and partly of Bloodmeu.'"' A more particular account now take of both. The Doubters are such as have their name from their nature, as well as from the lord , . An army of and kingdom where they are born; Doubters ami their nature is to put a question upon 00 meL' every one of the truths of Emmanuel, and their country is called, The Land of Doubting, and that land lieth off, and furthest remote to the north, between the Land of Darkness and that called the - Poor Mansoul, having by grace overcome his doubts and fears, having died to sin and risen again to newness of life, is now fit to comfort his brethren in church fellowship. As the Pilgrim was frighted by the lions before the house Beautiful, to prevent his entering into communion witli a church, they suffer persecution from these lions, here called ' Blood, men,' and an appropriate title it is for all persecutors. All those who enforce human laws to compel our presence at, or support to, any form of worship, are bloodmen. Bless God that they can only scratch us now; but if tiny had the power, the same spirit that now scratches would devour the saints of God— (Ed.) 46 362 THE HOLY WAR. Valley of the Shadow of Death. For though the Land of Darkness, and that called the Land of of the country of the Shadow of Death, he sometimes KSESSJ calIed as if theJ ™e on<> ^ the where they he. self-same place; yet indeed they are two, lying hut a little way asunder, and the Laud of Doubting points in, and lieth between them. This is the Land of Doubting, and these that came with DiaLolus to ruin the town of Mansoul are the natives of that country. The Bloodmen are a people that have their name derived from the malignity of their nature, and from the fury that is in them to execute it upon the town of Mansoul ; their land lieth under the Dog-star, and by that they are governed as to their intellectuals. The name of their country is the Province of Loath-good, the remote parts of it are far distant from the Laud of Doubting, yet they do both but and bound upon the hill called Hell-gate-hill. These people are always in league with the Doubters, for they jointly do make question of the faith and fidelity of the men of the town of Man- soul, and so are both alike qualified for the service of their prince. Now of these two countries did Diabolus, by the The number of his beating of Ids drum, raise another new army. army agafogt the town of Mansoul, of five and twenty thousand strong. There were ten thousand Doubters and fifteen thousand Blood- men, and they were put under several captains for the war, and old Incredulity was again made general of the army. As for the Doubters, their captains were five of the seven that were heads of the last Diabo- lonian army, and these are their names, Captain Beelzebub, Captain Lucifer, Captain Apollyon, Captain Legion, and Captain Cerberus, and the captains that they had before were some of them made lieutenants, and some ensigns in the army. But Diabolus did not count that in this expedi- tion of his, these Doubters would prove his principal His chief strength mcn> for theil' manhood had been lies in theBlood- tried before, also the Mansoulians men. . . , had put them to the worst, only he did bring them to multiply a number, and to help, if need was, at a pinch; but his trust he put in his Bloodmen, fur that they were all rugged vil- lains, and he knew that they had done feats here- tofore.1 As for the Bloodmen, they also were under 1 The Bloodmen, or persecutors, are all rugged villains; strengthened by new doubts arising from persecution for Christ's sake. From Fu.vs Martyrs Banyan had obtained a good estimate of their character. Persecutor, read your l- — a rugged villain, a mastiiF who would fasten upon relative, prince, and even the Prince of princes. — (Ed.) command, and the names of their captains were, Captain Cain, Captain Nimrod, Cap- The captains of tain Ishmacl, Captain Esau, Captain "»• Blooda**. Saul, Captain Absalom, Captain Judas, and Cap- tain Pope. 1. Captain Cain was over two bands, to wit, the zealous and the angry Bloodmen ; his standard- bearer bear the red colours, and his escutcheon was the murdering club. Ge. iv. 8. 2. Captain Nimrod was captain over two bands, to Avit, the tyrannical and encroaching Bloodmen ; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was the great blood-hound. Ge. x. s. 3. Captain Ishmacl was captain over two bands, to wit, over the mocking and scornful Bloodmen ; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was one mocking at Abraham's Isaac. Ge. xxi. 9, 10. 4. Captain Esau was captain over two bands, to wit, the Bloodmen that grudged that another should have the blessing, also over the Bloodmen that are for executing their private revenge upon others ; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was one privately lurking to murder Jacob. Ge. xtwL 42— 15. 5. Captain Saul was captain over two bands, to wit, the groundlessly jealous, and the devilishly furious Bloodmen; his standard-bearer bear the red colours, and his escutcheon was three bloody darts cast at harmless David. 1 sa. win. 10 ; adx. 10 ; xs. zi. 6. Captain Absalom was captain over two bands, to wit, over the Bloodmen that will kill a father or a friend for the glory of this world, also over those Bloodmen that will hold one fair in hand with words, till they shall have pierced him with their swords ; his standard-bearer did bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was the son a-pursuing his father's blood. 2 Sa. xv., xvi., xvii. 7. Captain Judas was over two bands, to wit, the Bloodmen that will sell a man's life for money, and those also that will betray their friend Avith a kiss ; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was thirty pieces of silver and the halter. Mat. xxvi. it-iG. S. Captain Pope was captain over one band, for all these spirits are joined in one under him ; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his escutcheon was the stake, the flame, and the good man in it. Re. xiii. 7, S. Da. xi. OS. Now the reason why Diabolus did so soon rally another force after he had been beaten out of the field was, for that he put mighty confidence in his army of Bloodmen, for he put a great deal of more trust in them than he did before ^j conijitions in his army of Doubters, though they <£Jht B^°j- had also often done great service for stoutness and him in the strengthening of him in his kingdom. But these Bloodmen he had proved THE HOLY WATu 303 lliem often, and their sword did seldom return empty. Besides, lie knew that these, like mas- tiffs, would fasten upon any, upon father, mother, brother, sister, prince, or governor, yea, upon the Prince of princes. And that which encouraged him the more, was for that they once did force Emmanuel out of the kingdom of Universe, and why, thought he, may they not also drive him from the town of Mansoul?1 So this army of live and twenty thousand strong, They sit down WM> Mf t!uIr Scncral tllc Lord In- Man- credulity, led up against the town of soul. Now Mr. 1'rywell, the scout- master-general, did himself go out to spy, and lie did bring Mansoul tidings of their coming ; where- fore they shut up their gates and put themselves in a posture of defence against these new Diabo- lonians that came up against the town. So Diabolus brought up his army and beleaguered IIow they d the town of Mansoul ; the Doubters them- were placed about Federate, and the selves. and Eargate. Now when this army had thus encamped them- selves, Incredulity did, in the name of Diabolus, his own name, and in the name of the Bloodmen and They summon tUC leSt ^iat W6Fe AV*tn n™' SenC* a n rath summons as hot as a red hot iron to =' Mansoul to yield to their demands, threatening that if they still stood it out against them, they would presently burn down Mansoul with fire. For you must know, that as for the Bloodmen, they were not so much that Mansoul should be surrendered, as that Mansoul should be destroyed aud cut off out of the land of the living.2 True, they send to them to surrender, but should they so do, that would not stanch or quench the thirsts of these men. u. lix. ?. They must have blood, the blood of Mansoul, else they die ; and it is from hence that they have their name. rs. xx\i. 9, 10. is. lis. 7. Je. xxii. it. Wherefore these Bloodmen he reserved while now that they might, when all his engines proved ineffectual, as his last and sure card, be played against the town of Mansoul. Now when the townsmen had received this red hot summons, it begat in them at present some changing and interchanging thoughts, but they jointly agreed, in less than half an hour, to carry the summons to the Prince, the which they did when they had writ at the bottom of it, Lord, save Mansoul from bloody men. Vs. lis. 2. So he took it and looked upon it, and considered 1 0 the folly of this lying Diabolus ! He tried his Blood- men upon Christ. They, by patting him to death, crushed I of Satan, shook his power, and will annihilate it, and £11 he!l with fresh torments. He pannes the same course with the saints of God, and their blood and groans become the fruitful seed of the church. So does Satan aid in destroying himself.— (Ed.) it, and took also notice of that short petition that the men of Mansoul had written at the bottom of it, and called to him the noble Captain Cr. and bid him go, and take Captain Patience with him, and go and take care of that side of Mansoul that was beleaguered by the Bloodmen. He. vi. 13, is. So they went and did as they were commanded, the Captain Credence went and took C Patience, and they both secured that side of Man- soul that was besieged by the Bloodmen. Then he commanded that Captain Groodhope and Captain Charity, and my Lord Willbe-will, should take charge of the other side of the town, and I, said the Prince, will set my standard upon the battlements of your castle, and do yon watch against the Doubters. This done, he again commanded that the brave captain, the Captain Experience, should draw up his men in the m place, and that there he should exercise them day by day before the people of the town of Mansoul. Now this siege was long, and many a fierce at did the enemy, especially those called the I men, make upon the town of Mansoul, and many d shrewd brush did some of the townsmen meet with from them, especially Captain Self-denial, who, 1 should have told you before, was com- manded to take cara of Eargate and Eyegate now against the Bloodmen. This Captain Self-denial was a young man, but stout, and a townsman of Mansoul, as Captain Experience also was. And Em- manuel, at his second return to Man- soul, made him a captain over a thousand of the Mansoulians, for the good of the corporation. This captain, therefore, being a hardy man, and a man of great courage, and will- ing to venture himself for the good of the town of Mansoul, would now and then sally out upon the Bloodmen and give them many notable alarms, and entered several brisk skirmishes with them, and also did some execution upon them ; but you must think that this could not easily be done, but he must meet Hu si_.n< 0. with brushes himself, for he carried man several of their marks in his face ; yea, and some in some other parts of his body.3 So, after some time spent for the trial of the faith, and hope, and love of the town of Mansoul, the Prince Emmanuel upon a day -, . ■t J Emmanuel prc- calls his captains and men of war together, and divides them into two ifoT'he orde; companies; this done, he commands Captain Self- denial, the last of those that were put in ollioe in the town of Man- bis - Satan's uniform aim is to destroy body and soul in hc'l for ever. But blessed be God, he shall not be able I the feeblest lamb out of the embraces of coveuaut love. — (Mason.) 3 Faith, Patience, and Self-denial arc admirably placed in opposition to the Bloodmen, persei U they behaved in the time of our pilgrim fathers is well known; and 3G4 THE HOLY WAR. them at a time appointed, and that in the morning very early, to sally out upon the enemy, saying, Let half of you fall upon the Doubters, and half of you fall upon the Bloodmen. Those of you that go out against the Doubters, kill and slay, and cause to perish so many of them as by any means you can lay hands on, but for you that go out against the Bloodmen, slay them not, but take them alive.1 bo, at the time appointed, betimes in the morn- The captains go inS tDe captains went out, as they out* were commanded, against the enemies; Captain Goodhope, Captain Charity, and those that were joined with them, as Captain Innocent and. Captain Experience, went out against the Doubters; and Captain Credence and Captain Patience, with Captain Self-denial, and the rest that were to join with them, went out against the Bloodmen. Now those that went out against the Doubters The Doubters drew up into a body before the plain, put to flight. and marc]ie(i on to ^id them battle; but the Doubters, remembering their last success, made a retreat, not daring to stand the shock, but fled from the Prince's men, wherefore they pur- sued them, and in their pursuit slew many, but they could not catch them all. Now those that escaped went some of them home, and the rest, by fives, nines, and seventeens,2 like wanderers, went straggling up and down the country, where they, The unbeliever llPou the barbarous people, showed sever fights and exercised many of their Diabo- the Doubters. . . . J ,. , , Ionian actions ; nor did these people rise up in arms against them, but suffered them- selves to be enslaved by them.3 They would also after this show themselves in companies before the town of Mansoul, but never to abide it, for if Captain Credence, Captain Goodhope, or Captain Experience did but show themselves, they fled. Those that went out against the Bloodmen did The Bloodmen as ^1 were commanded, they forbore are taken, and to slay any, but sought to compass them about. But the Bloodmen, when they saw that no Emmanuel was in the field, con- cluded also that no Emmanuel was in Mansoul, wherefore they, looking upon what the captains did, to be, as they called it, a fruit of the extrava- gancy of their wild and foolish fancies, rather despised them than feared them ; but the cap- in our happier times they are invaluable guards to support us in the loss of friends or property. — (Ed.) 1 ' Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.' This is the imperative command of Emmanuel to his followers, set forth in his sermon on the mount. Your lusts must be crucified, your doubts destroyed, your persecutors pitied and prayed for. — (Ed.) - ' Fives, nines, and seventeens.' "Why these odd uumbcrs sire given would not be a bad riddle to give our young friends. live infernal spirits were the leaders of the Satanic armv. ~0£ tains, minding their business, at last did compass them round, they also that had routed the Doubters came in amain to their aid ; so in fine, after some little struggling — for the Bloodmen also would have run for it, only now it was too late — for though they are mischievous and cruel where they can overcome, yet all Bloodmen are chicken-hearted men when they once come to see themselves matched and equalled — so the cap- tains took them, and brought them to the Prince. Now when they were taken, had before the Prince, and examined, he found them T, to be of three several counties, though brought to the xi 11 t> 1 i Prince, and tney all came out ot one land. found to be of 1. One sort of them came out of threesorts- Blindmanshire, and they were such as did ignor- antly what they did. l tl i. 13-15. Mat. v. 44. 2. Another sort of them came out of Blindzeal- shire, and they did superstitiously what they did. Lu. vi. 22. 3. The third sort of them came out of the town of Malice in the county of Envy, and they did what they did out of spite and implacableness.4 Jn. xvi. 2. • Eor the first of these, to wit, they that came out of Blindmanshii-e, when they saw where they were, and against whom they had fought, they trembled, and cried as they stood before him ; and as many of these as asked him mercy, he touched their lips with his golden sceptre. Ac. ix. 5-c. They that came out of Blindzealshire, they did not as their fellows did, for they pleaded that they had a right to do what they did, because Mansoul was a town whose laws and customs were diverse from all that dwelt thereabouts. Very few of these could be brought to see their evil ; but those that did, and asked mercy, they also obtained favour. Jn. viii. 40. They that came out of the town of Malice, that is in the county of Envy, they neither wept nor disputed, nor repented, but stood gnawing of their tongues before him for anguish and madness, be- cause they could not have their will upon Mansoul. Re. ix. 20, 21. Now these last, with all those of the other two sorts that did not unfeignedly ask par- It consisted of nine companies of Doubters, and eight of Blood- men, or persecutors. Eirst, five fallen angels; second, nine classes of doubts ; and if this was not enough to enslave the soul, they were to be aided by eight classes of persecutors. This may account for the grouping of these dangerous enemies in fives, nines, and seventeens. — (Ed.) 3 Many are led captive by Satan at his will, blinded to their misery and fate by the god of this world, in whose delu- sive arms many of them sleep till death and judgment awake them to behold their awful and remediless state. Lord, pity them !— (Mason.) 4 These are the three grades of Bloodmen, but all are influ- enced by hatred to Christianity and a love of plunder. God hates robbery for offerings, yet some blind fanatics will seize their neighbour's goods to save their own pockets in adorning their temples. May God in mercy convert them, as he did Saul of Tarsus.— (Ed.) THE HOLY WAR, 365 (Ion for their faults, those he made to enter into The Bioodmen sufficient bond to answer for what the}' are bound over ]iaa> (ionc against Mansoul and against to answer tor ° . ° . what they have her King, at the great and general sizet'the day assizes to ho holden for our Lord the of judgment. King> where ll0 himseif sh0uld appoint for the country and kingdom of Universe. So thev became bound, each man for himself, to come in when called upon, to answer before our Lord the King for what they had done as be- fore.1 And thus much concerning this second army that were sent by Diabolus to overthrow Mansoul. But there were three of those that came from the land of Doubting, who, after they T'uyc or four of . , . . . ° , - J the Doubters had wandered and ranged the countrv Ionise enter! awhUe, and perceived that they had tamed, and by escaped, were so hardy as to thrust whom. * J themselves, knowing that yet there were in the town Diabolonians — I say they were so hardy as to thrust themselves into Mansoul among them. Three, did I say? I think there were four. Now, to whose house should these Diabolonian Doubters go, but to the house of an old Diabolon- ian in Mansoul, whose name was Evil-questioning: a very great enemy he was to Mansoul, and a great doer among the Diabolonians there. Well, to this Evil-questioning's house, as was said, did these Diabolonians come — you may be sure that they had directions how to find the way thither ; so he made them welcome, pitied their misfortune, and succoured them with the best that he had in his house. Now, after a little acquaintance, and it was not long before they had that, this old Evil- questioning asked the Doubters if they were all of a town — he knew that they were all of one king- .... . . , dom. And they answered, no, nor not M hat sort of J ' uoubters they of one shire neither; for I, said one, am an Election-doubter; I, said an- other, am a Vocation-doubter ; then, said the third, I am a Salvation-doubter ; and the fourth said he was a Grace-doubter. Well, quoth the old gen- tleman, be of what shire you will, I am persuaded that you are down boys ;2 you have the very length of my fooV are one with my heart, and shall be welcome to me. So they thanked him, and were glad that they had found themselves a harbour in Tidkbetwixtthe Mansoul.1 Then said Evil-questioning Mf-o^! to them, How many of your company tioniiig. might there be that came with you 1 Persecutors, who die in impenitence, must appear at the day of judgment, when these ungodly men shall be judged of all their ungodly deeds, and all their hard speeches against Christ in his members. Jude 15. — (Ed.) 2 'Down boys,' deep, knowing, determined fellows; as ' down bout,' a tough battle, a set to at hard drinking. In 1G96, it was altered to 'town boys;' an unmeaning name. This was continued in 1707; but was restored to 'down boys' in 1720— (Ed.) to the siege of Mansoul? And they answered. There were but ten thousand Doubters in all, for the rest of the army consisted of fifteen thousand Bioodmen. These Bioodmen, quoth they, border upon our country ; but, poor men, as we hear, they were every one taken by Emmanuel's forces. Ten thousand! quoth the old gentleman, I'll promi you that is a round company. But how came it to pass, since you were so mighty a number, that yo i fainted, and durst not fight your foes? Our gen- eral, said they, was the first man that did run for it. Fray, quoth their landlord, who was that your cowardly general? He was once the Lord Mayor of Mansoul, said they. But, pray, call him nut a cowardly general ; for whether any, from the east to the west, has done more service for our prince, Diabolus, than has my Lord Incredulity, will be a hard question for you to answer. But had they catched him, they would for certain have hanged him ; and we promise you hanging is but a bad business.5 Then, said the old gentleman, I would that all the ten thousand Doubters were now well armed in Mansoul, and myself in the head of them, I would see what I could do. Ay, said they, that would be well if we could see that ; but wishes, alas! what arc they? And these words were spoken aloud. Well, said old Evil-questioning, take heed that you talk not too loud ; you must be quatG and close, and must take care of yourselves while you are here, or, I'll assure you, you will bo snapt. Why? quoth the Doubters. Why ? quoth the old gentleman ; why, because both the Prince and Lord Secretary, and their captains and soldiers, are all at present in town ; yea, the town is as full of them as ever it can hold. And, besides, there is one whose name is Will-be- will, a most cruel enemy of ours, and him the Prince has made keeper of the gates, and has commanded him that, with all the diligence he can, he shoidd look for, search out, and destroy all and all manner of Diabolonians. And if he lighteth upon you, down you go, though your heads were made of gold.' And now to see how it happened. One of the Lord Will-be-will's faithful soldiers, Thev are ovcr. whose name was Mr. Diligence, stood heard- all this while listening under old Evil-questioning's eaves, and heard all the talk that had been betwixt 3 'Length of my foot,' a proverb meaning similarity of dis- position.— (Ed.) 4 In our best estate we are too prone to question the truth of God's Word and his faithfulness; we believe Mm able, but harbour doubts as to his willingness to save us. Loi I, our faith! — (Mason.) 6 Hanging is a bad business; it d '» from crime, but the sight of it hardens them in iniquity.— <&>.) 6 Cowering, stooping, squat. — (Ed.) 7 No bribe can save them. — Q oj SCO THE HOLY WAR. ? am and the Doubters that be entertained under hia roof. The soldier was a man that my Lord had much confidence in, and that he loved dearly ; and that both because he was a man of courage, and also a man that was unwearied in seeking after Diabol- onians to apprehend them. Now this man, as I told you, heard all the talk They are Ois- tnat was between old Evil-questioning covered. and these Diabolonians ; wherefore, what does he but go to his Lord, and tells him what he had heard. And sayest thou so, my trusty? quoth my Lord. Ay, quoth Diligence, that I do ; and if your Lordship will be pleased to go with me, you shall find it as I have said. And are they there ? quoth my Lord ; I know Evil- questioning well, for he and I were great in the time of our apostacy. But I know not now where he dwells. But I do, said his man; and, if your Lordship will go, I will lead you the way to his den. Go! quoth my Lord, that I will. Come, my Diligence, let us go find them out. So, my Lord and his man went together the direct way to ■ his house. Now, his man went before to show him his way, and they went till they came even under old Mr. Evil-questioning's wall. Then said Dili- gence, Hark ! my Lord ; do you know the old gen- tleman's tongue when you hear it? Yes, said ray Lord, I know it well ; but I have not seen him many a day. This I know; he is cunning. I wish he doth not give us the slip. Let me alone for that, said his servant, Diligence. But how shall we find the door? quoth my Lord. Let me alone for that, too, said his man. So he had my Lord Will-be-will about, and showed him the way to the door Then my Lord, without more ado, broke open the door, rushed into the house, and caught them all five together, even as Diligence, Tiicy arc aprvc- his man, had told him. So, my Lord commrtted^to apprehended them and led them away, prison. an(i committed them to the hand of Mr. Trueman, the jailer, and commanded, and he did put them in ward.1 This done, my Lord Mayor was acquainted in the morning with what my Lord TlicLord Mayor Will-be-will had done over-night, and is glad at n. Lis Lordship rejoiced much at the news, not only because there were Doubters appre- hended, but because that old Evil-questioning was taken ; for he had been a very great trouble to Mansoul, and much affliction to my Lord Mayor himself. He had also been sought for often, but no hand could ever be laid upon him till now. Well, the next thing was to make preparation to try these five that by my Lord had been appre- hended, and that were in the hands of Mr. True- man, the jailer. So the day was set, and the court called and come together, and They are brought the prisoners brought to the bar. My t0 tnal- Lord Will-be-will had power to have slain them when at first he took them, and that without any more ado ; but he thought it at this time mere for the honour of the Prince, the comfort of Mansoul, and the discouragement of the enemy, to bring them forth to public judgment. But, I say, Mr. Trueman brought them in chains to the bar, to the town-hall, for that was the place of judgment. So, to be short, the jury was pan- nelled, the witnesses sworn, and the prisoners tried for their lives. The jury was the same that tried Mr. Notruth, Pityless, Haughty, and the rest of their companions. And first old Questioning himself was set to the bar ; for he was the receiver, the entertainer, and comforter of these Doubters, that by nation were outlandish men ;2 then he was bid to hearken to his charge, and was told that he had liberty to object, if he had ought to say for himself. So his indict- ment was read; the manner and form here follows — Mr. Questioning, Thou art here indicted by the name of Evil-questioning, an intruder ,. upon the town of Mansoul, for that thou art a Diabolonian by nature, and also a hater of the Prince Emmanuel, and one that hast studied the ruin of the town of Mansoul. Thou art also here indicted for countenancing the King's ene- mies, after wholesome laws made to the contrary : For, 1. Thou hast questioned the truth of her doc- trine and state. 2. In wishing that ten thousand Doubters were in her. 3. In receiving, in enter- taining, and encouraging of her enemies that came from their army unto thee. What sayest thou to this indictment, Art thou guilty, or not guilty ? My Lord, quoth he, I know not the meaning of this indictment, forasmuch as I am not the man concerned in it ; the man that standeth by this charge, accused before this bench, is called by the name of Evil-questioning, which name I deny to be mine, mine being Honest- inquiring.3 The one indeed sounds like the other ; but I trow, your Lordships know, that between these two there is a wide difference ; for I hope that a man, even in the worst of times, and that too amongst the worst of men, may make an honest inquiry after things, without running the danger of death. Will. Then spake my Lord Will-be-will, for he was one of the witnesses : * My Lord, The Lovd wiU_ and you the honourable bench, and be-witt's testi- mamstrates of the town of Mansoul, Ills plea. 1 Thus believers, by the almighty power of grace, arc en- abled to take those captives whose captives they were. Is. xlv. 2, 3.— (Mason.) 2 Enemies to faith, hope, and love. The soul, by reason of its depravity, is subject to many doubts and unbelieving tears, which Adam, before the fall, was a stranger to. — (Mason.) " How common it is for vice to disguise itself under the :he holy war. 567 you all have heard with your cars, that the prisoner at the bar has denied his name, and so thinks to shift from the charge of the indictment. But I know him to he the man concerned, and that his proper name is Evil-questioning. I have known him, my Lord, ahove this thirty years; for he and I, a shame it is for me to i peak it, were great acquaintance, when Diabolus, that tyrant, had the government of Mansoul ; and I testify that he is a Diaholonian hy nature, and enemy to our Prince, and a hater of the hlcssed town of Mansoul. lie has, in times of rehcllion, heen at, and lain in my house, my Lord, not so little as twenty nights together; and we did use to talk then, for the substance of talk, as he, and his Doubters have talked of late; true I have not seen him many o-day. I suppose that the coming of Emmanuel to Mansoul has made him to change his lodgings, as this indictment has driven him to change his name; hut this is the man, my Lord.' Then said the court unto him, Hast The court. . . , o tliou any more to say i ". Yes, quoth the old gentleman, that I have; for all that as yet has been said against me, is but by the mouth of one witness, and it is not lawful for the famous towu of Mansoul, at the mouth of one witness to put any man to death. Dilig. Theu stood forth Mr. Diligence, and said, Mr. Diligence's ' My Lord, as I was upon my watch testimony. g^ a njgllt> at t]ie ]leaj 0f £a(j Street in this town, I chanced to hear a muttering ■within this gentleman's house ; then thought I what is to do here? So I went up close, but very softly to the side of the house, to listen, thinking, as indeed it fell out, that there I might light upon some Diabolonian conventicle.1 So, as I said, I drew nearer and nearer, and when I was got up close to the wall, it was but a while before I perceived that there were outdandish men in the house ; but I did well understand their speech, for I have been a traveller myself. Now hearing such language in such a tottering cottage as this old gentleman dwelt in, I clapt mine ear to a hole iu the window, and there heard them talk as fol- loweth. This old Mr. Questioning asked these Doubters what they were, whence they came, and what was their business in these parts ? And they told 2 him to all these questions, yet he did enter- II is pica. name of virtue ! To understand the difi'ertnee between Evil- questioning and Ilonest-inquir, I solemn import- ance. Honest inquiry is the ei f every Christian. Leaving all human auls, our hopes of salvation depend upon oar seeking the influence of the Holy Spirit 1 we may understand the Sacred Scriptures ; i to the knowledge and obedience of him who is the V\ Truth, and the Life. Evil questioning is ;> trusting own perverted reason; bringing to the proud bar of our de- tain them. He also asked what mi: were of them, and they told him ten thousand men, He then asked them why they made no more manly assault upon Mansoul? And they told him; mi be called their general coward for marching off when he should have fought for his Prince. Further, this old Evil-questioning wished, and 1 heard him wish, Would all the ten thousand Doubters were now in Mansoul, and himself in the head of them. He bid them also to tal. and lie quat, for if they were taken they must die, although they had heads of gold. Then said the court, Mr. Evil-questioning, is now another witness against you, and his testimony is full : 1 . lie swears that you did receive these men into your house, aad that you did nourish them there, though yotl knew that they were Diabolonians, and the King's enemies. 2. He swears that you did wish ten thousand of them in Mansoul. 3. He swears that you did give them advice to be quat and close lest they were taken by the King's servants. All which manifesteth that thou art a Diabolonian ; for had I thou been a friend to the King, thou wouldest have apprehended them. Fa-;'. Then said Evil-questioning, To the first of these I answer, the men that came into mine house wrerc strangers, and I took them in, and is it now become a crime in Mi for a man to entertain strangers? That I did also nourish them is true, and why should my charity be blamed? As for the reason why I wished ten thousand of them in Mansoul, I never told it to the witnesses, nor to themselves. I might wish them to be taken, and so my wish might mean well to Mansoul, for aught that any yet knows. I did also bid them take heed that they fell not into the captain's hands ; but that might be because I am unwilling that any man should be slain ; and not because I would have the King's enemies as such escape. My Lord Mayor then replied, That though it was a virtue to entertain strangers, yet it was treason to entertain the King's enemii what else thou bast said, thou dost by werds but labour to evade, and defer the execution of judg- But could there be no more pi thee hut that thou art a Diaholonian, thou must for that the the death hy the law; but to be a prayed judgment the troths of revelation, wn ; them to our i « d dei tructi >n. Chi i your duty is perfectly clei c — you must make honest ■ without evil questioning.— 1 'Conventicle,' — from 'co ;-'r — * term of reproach given to meetings of ( oris I i unite with the i a more private manner, as our Lord and Ac. i. 13, 14.— (Kd.) - Narrated, ma le Liown their treasonable d 36S THE HOLY WAR. receiver, a nourlslier, a countenancer, and a har- bourer of others of them, yea, of outlandish Dia- bolonians; yea, of them that came from far, on purpose to cut off and destroy our Mansoul ; this must not he borne. , . Then said Evil-questioninff, I see II:s conclusion. . ., ... 1 T ,. - how the game will go ; I must die for my name, and for my charity. And so he held his peace. Then they called the outlandish Doubters to the bar ; and the first of them that Avas arraigned was the Election-doubter; so his indictment was read, The Election- and because he was an outlandish man, doubter tried. the SUDstance 0f it >vas told Jlim by an interpreter ; to wit, That he was there charged with being an enemy of Emmanuel the Prince, a hater of the town of Mansoul, and an opposer of her most wholesome doctrine.1 Then the judge asked him if he would plead ? _. , But he said only this, That he con- ilisplea. „ . . , ^ _,, . lessed that he was an Election- - doubter, and that that was the religion that he had ever been brought up in. And said, moreover, If I must die for my religion, I trow, I shall die a martyr,2 and so I care the less. Judge. Then it was replied, To question election, is to overthrow a great doctrine of the The Court. . . ° . . gospel ; to wit, the omniscience, and power, and will of God ; to take away the liberty of God with his creature ; to stumble the faith of the town of Mansoul; and to make salvation to depend upon works, and not upon grace. It also belied the word, and disquieted the minds of the men of Mansoul ; therefore, by the best of laws he must die. Then was the Vocation-doubter called, and set The Vocation- to the bar ; and his indictment for sub- doubter tried. stance y^g the same with the other, only he was particularly charged with denying the calling of Mansoul. he judge asked him also what he had to say for himself? So he replied that he never believed that there was any such thing as a distinct and powerful call of God to Mansoul ; otherwise than by the general voice of the Word ; nor by that neither, otherwise than as it exhorted them to forbear evil, and to 1 Though ignorant persons cavil and object, we are bold to affirm, that election by free grace is consonant to the whole icuor of Scripture ; a comfortable doctrine, exciting to obedi- ence. 'We love him, because he first loved us.' 1 Jn. iv. 19. — (Mason.) - ' A martyr ' is a witness, generally applied among Chris- tians to those who seal with their blood a testimony of love to Christ, and are put to death for their attachment to the gos- pel ; not like the Jesuits under Elizabeth, they came to poison or destroy her, and to overturn the Government, and were put to death as traitors. But if auy Christian was put to death for doubting the doctrine of election, he would be entitled to the crown of martyrdom, — (Ed.) do that which is good, and in so doing, a promise of happiness is annexed. Then said the Judge, Thou art a Diabolonian ; and hast denied a great part of one of the most experimental truths of the Prince of the town of Mansoul ; for he has called, and she has heard a most distinct and powerful call of her Emmanuel, by which she has been quickened, awakened, and possessed with heavenly grace to desire to have communion with her Prince, to serve him, and do his will, and to look for her happiness merely of his good pleasure.4 And for thine ab- horrence of this good doctrine, thou must die the death. Then the Grace-doubter was called, and his in- dictment was read; and he replied The Grace-doubt- thereto, That though he was of the er tried- land of Doubting, his father was the offspring of a Pharisee, and lived in good fashion among his neighbours, and that he taught him to believe, and believe it I do, and will, that Mansoul shall never be saved freely by grace. Then said the Judge, Why, the law of the Prince is plain: 1. Negatively, Not of works. 2. Positively, By grace you are saved. Eo. ili. Ep. ii. And thy religion settleth in and upon the works of the flesh ; for the works of the law are the works of the flesh. Besides, in saying as thou hast done, thou hast robbed God of his glory, and given it to a sinfid man ; thou hast robbed Christ of the necessity of his undertaking, and the sufficiency thereof, and hast given both these to the works of the flesh. Thou hast despised the work of the Holy Ghost, and hast magnified the will of the flesh, and of the legal mind. Thou art a Dia- bolonian, the son of a Diabolonian ; and for thy Diabolonian principles thou must die. The court then having proceeded thus far with them, sent out the jury, who forthwith brought them in guilty of death. Then stood up the Re- corder, and addressed himself to the prisoners: You, the prisoners at the bar, you Their sentence have been here indicted, and proved todie- guilty of high crimes against Emmanuel our Prince, and against the welfare of the famous town of Man- soul ; crimes for which you must be put to death ; and die ye accordingly.5 3 Those who deny election deny, though perhaps unwittingly, the omniscience and sovereignty of God ; and unavoidably as- sert, sometimes without perceiving it, that salvation is not of grace but of works. — (Burder.) 4 The great mass of mankind in Christendom, because they were baptized in infancy, call themselves Christians, and find shelter under these pleas from the necessity of persoual prayer- ful investigation. They never knew the pangs of the new birth, nor the cry, 'What must I do to be saved?' or, 'Lord, save, 1 perish !' It is a most extensive and most fatal error, in which myriads of souls have met their doom. — (Ed.) _ ° Thus we are to lay aside every weight, and every beset- ting sin, He. xii. 12— whatsoever does not tend to promote THE HOLY AVAR. 3C9 So they were sentenced to the death of the cross ; She places or ^° place assigned them for execution their death as- was that where Diaholus drew up his sigued. , ,_ , A , last army against Mansoul ; save only that old Evil-questioning was hanged at the top of Bad-street, just over against his own door.1 [Chapter XVIII.] [Contents : — More Diaboloniaus tried and condemned — The Work concludes with an admirable speech of Emmanuel, reciting his gracious nets, and informing his people of his intention to rebuild the town with the greatest splen- dour, and recommending a suitable conduct in the mean- time.] When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid themselves of their enemies, and of the trouhlers of their peace ; in the next place, a strict com- mandment was given out, that yet my Lord Will- he-will should, with Diligence, his man, search for, and do his hest to apprehend what town-Diabolon- ians were yet left alive in Mansoul. The names of several of them were — Mr. Fooling, Mr. Let-good- slip, Mr. Slavishfear, Mr. Xolove, Mr. Mistrust, Mr. Flesh, and Mr. Sloth. It was also commanded that he should apprehend Mr. Evil- granted out a- questioning's children that he left be- 5reuSto!'CE^: llill(1 ^m, and that they should demol- w'th i0th"-' 1S^ *"s nouse* ^ne children that he left behind were these — Mr. Doubt, and he was his eldest son ; the next to him was Legal-life, Unbelief, Wrong -thoughts -of- Christ, Clip-promise, Carnal-sense, Live-by-feeling, Self- love. All these he had by one wife, and her name was Nohope. She was the kinswoman of old In- credulity ; for he was her uncle, and, when her father, old Dark, was dead, he took her, and brought her up ; and, when she was marriageable, he gave her to this old Evil-questioning to wife. Now, the Lord Will-be-will did put into execu- wm-be-wiiiputs tion llis commission, with great Dili- lus warrant in- gence, his man. lie took Fooling in the streets, and hanged him up in Want-wit-alley, over against his own house. This Fooling was he that would have had the town of Mansoul deliver up Cap- tain Credence into the hands of Diabolus, provided that then he would have withdrawn his force out Lct-good-slip of the town. He also took Mr. Let- taken, good-slip one day as he was busy in the market, and executed him according to law. the glory of God, and our progress in the Divine life of faith. — (Mason.) 1 The reader must keep in mind that the sentence and exe- cution is not against the persons who held these errors, but allegoric-ally the errors themselves must be eradicated or de- stroyed from the soul of the believer. — (En.) 2 Great is the advantage of meditation ; a practice, alas ! in which Christians in general are too backward. Much is lost by letting the Word slip, which ought to be laid up and VOL. III. Now there was an honest poor man in Mansoul, and his name was Mr. Meditation, one of no great account in the days of apostacy, but now of repute with the best of the town. This man therefore they were willing to prefer; now Mr. Let-good-.slm had a great deal of wealth heretofore in Mansoul, and at Emmanuel's coming it was sequestered to the use of the Prince, this therefore was now given to Mr. Meditation, to improve for the common good, and after him to his son Mr. Thinkwcll ; tlii3 Thinkwcll he had by Mrs. Fiety his wife, and she was the daughter of Mr. Recorder.3 After this my Lord apprehended Clip-promise, now because he was a notorious villain, cUp-promiae for by his doings much of the King's Ulkt"- coin was abused, therefore he was made a public example, lie was arraigned and judged to be first set in the pillory, then to be whipt by all the children and servants in Mansoul, and then to be hanged till he was dead. Some may wonder at the severity of this man's punishment, but those that are honest traders in Mansoul, are sensible of the great abuse that one clipper of promises in little time may do to the town of Mansoul. And truly my judgment is, that all those of his name and life should be served even as he.3 He also apprehended Carnal-sense, and put him in hold, but how it came about I can- carnaiseuse not tell, but he brake prison and made takeu- his escape. Yea, and the bold villain will not yet quit the town, but lurks in the Diabolonian dens a days, and haunts like a ghost honest men's houses a nights. Wherefore there was a proclamation set up in the market-place in Mansoul, signifying that whosoever should discover Carnal-sense, and ap- prehend him and slay him, should be admitted daily to the Prince's table, and should be made keeper of the treasure of Mansoul. Many there- fore did bend themselves to do this thing, but take him and slay him they could not, though often he was discovered.4 But my Lord took Mr. Wrong -thoughts -of - Christ, and put him in prison, and Wrong-thciishU- he died there, though it was long ot-Chxatiaken. first, for he died of a lingering consumption. Selflove was also taken and committed to cus- tody, but there were many that were ii. 3 i- • tit , ,• • i Selflove taken. allied to him in Mansoul, so his judg- ment was deferred, but at last Mr. Self-denial stood up and said, if such villains as these may be pondered in the heart. This is the way to become spiritually rich. — (Burder.) 3 The cruelty of these punishments breathes the spirit of the times in which our author lived. Every painful Ceding, how- ever, is dissipated by the rctlection that it is an e representing how these Diabolonian sinful thoughts ought to be exterminated. To clip the promises is certainly U crime as clipping the current coin. — (Ed.) 4 How closely does carnality cleave to U3 throughout our 47 370 THE HOLY WAR. winked at in Mansoul, I will lay down my com- mission. He also took him from the crowd, and had him among his soldiers, and there he was brained. But some in Mansoul muttered at it, though none durst speak plainly, because Em- manuel was in town. But this brave act of Cap- tain Self-denial came to the Prince's ears, so he s j. sent for him, and made him a Lord denial made a in Mansoul.1 My Lord Will-be-will also obtained <2*reat commendations of Lord. Emmanuel, for wbat he had done for the town of Mansoul. Then my Lord Self-denial took courage, and set to pursuing of the Diabolonians with my Lord Live-by-feeling Will-be-will ; and they took Live-by- taken, feeling, and they took Legal-life, and put them in hold till they died. But Mr. Unbe- lief was a nimble jack, him they could never lay hold of, though they attempted to do it often. He therefore, and some few more of the subtilest of the Diabolonian tribe, did yet remain in Mansoul, to the time that Mansoul left off to dwell any longer in the kingdom of Universe. But they kept them to their dens and holes; if one of them did appear or happen to be seen in any of the streets of the town of Mansoul, the whole town would be up in arms after them, yea the very children in Mansoul would cry out after them as after a thief, and would wish that they might stone them to death with stones. And now did Mansoul The peace of arrive to some good degree of peace mmdsJUl' her and quiet, her Prince also did abide trade. within her borders, her Captains also, and her soldiers did their duties, and Mansoul minded her trade that she had with the country that was afar off; also she was busy in her manu- facture.2 Is. xxiiii. 17. Phi. iii. 20. Tr. xxxi. When, the town of Mansoul had thus far rid themselves of so many of their enemies, and the troublers of their peace ; the Prince sent to them, and appointed a day wherein he would at the market-place meet the whole people, and there give them in charge concerning some further mat- ters, that if observed would tend to their further safety and comfort, and to the condemnation and destruction of their home-bred Diabolonians. So the day appointed was come, and the townsmen met together; Emmanuel also came down in his pilgrimage ! Even the apostle complained of this foe — • I am carnal.' The grave is the only secure prison in which he can be for ever shut up. He will never break prison from thence. -(Ed.) 1 Self-love and self-denial can no more live together in the soul, than can the service of God and mammon. Reader, if a thought of self-love interferes with love to Christ, drag it to self-denial, and it will be brained without the formality of a trial, and God will approve the execution. — (En.) 2 Self-denial must be opposed to self-love. 'If, through the Spirit, we mortify the deeds of the body, we shall live;' and shall also happily experience that ' to be spiritually-minded is chariot, and all his captains in their state attend- ing of him on the right hand, and on the left. Then was an 0 yes made for silence, and after some mutual carriages of love, the Prince began, and thus proceeded — You my Mansoul, and the beloved of mine heart, many and great are the privileges that Emmanuel.s I have bestowed upon you; I have speech to singled you out from others, and have chosen you to myself, not for your worthiness, but for mine own sake. I have also redeemed you, not only from the dread of my Father's law, but from the hand of Diabolus. This I have done because I loved you, and because I have set my heart upon you to do you good. I have also, that all things that might hinder thy way to the pleasures of paradise might be taken out of the way, laid down for thee, for thy soul, a plenary satisfaction, and have bought thee to myself; a price not of corruptible things as of silver and gold, but a price of blood, mine own blood, which I have freely spilt upon the ground to make thee mine. So I have reconciled thee, 0 my Mansoul, to my Father, and intrusted thee in the mansion-houses that are with my Father in the royal city where things are, 0 my Mansoul, that eye hath not seen, nor hath entered into the heart of man to conceive. a Besides, 0 my Mansoul, thou seest what I have done, and how I have taken thee out of the hands of thine enemies ; unto whom thou hast deeply re- volted from my Father, and by whom thou wast content to be possessed, and also to be destroyed. I came to thee first by my law, then by my gospel to awaken thee, and show thee my glory. And thou knowest what thou wast, what thou saidst, what thou didst, and how many times thou re- belledst against my Father and me; yet I left thee not ; as thou seest this day, but came to thee, have borne thy manners, have waited upon thee and after all accepted of thee, even of my mere grace and favour; and would not suffer thee to be lost, as thou most willingly wouldst have been. I also compassed thee about, and afflicted thee on every side, that I might make thee weary of thy ways, and bring down thy heart with molestation to a willingness to close with thy good and happiness. And when I had gotten a complete conquest over thee, I turned it to thy advantage.4 life and peace.' But, after all, that villain Unbelief, the wor, t of all the gang, still lurks secretly in the soid, yet is uniformly opposed whenever he dares to appear. — (Border.) 3 'There I shall bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest, And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.' — [Watts.) ' Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!' — (Ed.) 4 Thus completely is boasting excluded. *By grace are ye saved, through faith ; and that "not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.' Ep.^ii. 8.— (Ed.) THE HOLY WAK. 171 TIiou seest also what a company of my Father's host I have lodged within thy horders, captains and rulers, soldiers and men of war, engines and excellent devices to suhduo and bring down thy foes ; thou knowest my meaning, 0 Mnnsoul. And they are my servants, and thine too, Man soul. Yea, my design of possessing of thee with them, and the natural tendency of each of them is to defend, purge, strengthen, and sweeten thee for myself, 0 Mansoul, and to make thee meet for my Father's presence, Messing, and glory; for thou, my Mansoul, art created to he prepared unto these. Thou seest moreover, my Mansoul, how I have passed hy thy backsliding?, and have healed thee. Indeed I was angry with thee, hut I have turned mine anger away from thee, hecause I loved thee still, and mine anger and mine indignation is ceased in the destruction of thine enemies, 0 Mansoul. Nor did thy goodness fetch me again unto thee, after that I for thy transgressions have hid my face, and withdrawn my presence from thee. The way of backsliding was thine, but the way and means of thy recovery was mine. I invented the means of thy return ; it was I that made an hedge and a wall, when thou wast beginning to turn to things in which I delighted not. It was I that made thy sweet, bitter; thy day, night; thy smooth ways thorny; and that also confounded all that sought thy destruction. It was I that set Mr. Godly-fear to work in Mansoul. It was I that stirred up thy conscience and understanding, thy will and thy affections, after thy great and woful decay. It was I that put life into thee, 0 Man- soul, to seek me, that thou mightest find me, and in thy finding, find thine own health, happiness, and salvation. It was I that fetched the second time the Diabolonians out of Mansoul ; and it was I that overcame them, and that destroyed them before thy face. And now, my Mansoul, I am returned to thee in peace, and thy transgressions against me, are as if they had not been. Nor shall it be with thee as in former days, but I will do better for thee than at thy beginning. For yet a little while, 0 my Mansoul, even after a few more times are gone over thy head, I will, but be not thou troubled at what 1 say, I will take down this famous town of Mansoul, stick and stone to the ground. icu. *xix. so. And will carry the stones thereof, and the timber thereof, and the walls thereof, and the dust thereof, and the inhabitants thereof, into mine own country, even into the kingdom of my Father; and will there set it up in such strength and glory, as it never did see in the kingdom where now it is 1 For a most admirable treatise on the resurrection of the body, and its re-union with the soul in bliss unspeakable and eternal, see vol. ii. p. S3. — (Ed.) placed.1 I will even there set it up for my Father's habitation, for, for that purpose it was at first erected in the kingdom of universe; and there will I make it a spectacle of wonder, a monument of mercy, and the admirer of its own mercy. There shall the natives of Mansoul see all that of which they have seen nothing here ; there shall they be equal to those unto whom they have been inferior here. And there shall thou, 0 my Mansoul, have such communion with me, with my Father, and with your Lord Secretary, as is not possible here to be enjoyed, nor ever could be, shouldest thou live in universe the space of a thousand years.2 And there, 0 my Mansoul, thou shalt be afraid of murderers no more; of Diabolonians, and their threats no more. There, there shall be no more plots, nor contrivances, nor designs against thee, 0 my Mansoul. There thou shalt no more hear the evil tidings, or the noise of the Diabolonian drum. There thou shalt not see the Diabolonian Standard-bearers, nor yet behold Diabolus his standard. No Diabolonian mount shall be cast up against thee there, nor shall there the Diabolonian standard be set up to make thee afraid. There thou shalt not need captains, engines, soldiers, and men of war. There thou shalt meet with no sor- row, nor grief, nor shall it be possible that any Diabolonian should again, for ever, be able to creep into thy skirts, burrow in thy walls, or be seen again within thy borders all the days of eternity. Life shall there last longer, than here you are able to desire it should, and yet it shall always be sweet and new, nor shall any impediment attend it for ever. There, 0 Mansoul, thou shalt meet with many of those that have been like thee, and that have been partakers of thy sorrows ; even such as 1 have chosen, and redeemed and set apart as thou for my Father's court and city royal. All they will be glad in thee, and thou, when thou seest them, shall be glad in thine heart. There are things, 0 Mansoul, even things of thy Father's providing and mine, that never were seen since the beginning of the world, and they are laid up with my Father, and sealed up among his treasures for thee, till thou shalt come thither to enjoy them. I told you before that I would re- move my Mansoul, and set it up elsewhere, and where I will set it, there are those that love thee, and those that rejoice in thee now, but how much more when they shall see thee exalted to honour. My Father will then send them for you to fetch you ; and their bosoms are chariots to put you in. And you, 0 my Mansoul, shall ride upon tlie wings 2 'Blessings abound where'er he reigns, The prisoner leaps to lose his chaius, The weary lind eternal rest, And all the sons of want are blest.' — (W'atts.) 372 THE HOLY WAR. of the wind. They will come to convey, conduct, and bring you to that, when your eyes see more, that will be your desired haven. Ps. toiii. 17. And thus, 0 my Mansoul, I have showed unto thee what shall be done to thee hereafter, if thou canst hear, if thou canst understand ; and now I will tell thee what at present must be thy duty and practice, until I shall come and fetch thee to my- self, according as is related in the Scriptures of truth. First, I charge thee that thou dost hereafter keep more white and clean the liveries which I gave thee before my last withdrawing from thee. Do it, I say, for this will be thy wisdom. They are in themselves fine linen, but thou must keep them white and clean.1 This will be your wisdom, your honour, and will be greatly for my glory. When your garments are white, the world will count you mine. Also when your garments are white, then I am delighted in your ways ; for then your goings to and fro will be like a flash of light- ning, that those that are present must take notice of, also their eyes will be made to dazzle thereat. Deck thyself therefore according to my bidding, and make to thyself by my law straight steps for thy feet, so shall thy King greatly desire thy beauty, for he is thy Lord, and worship thou him.2 Now that thou mayest keep them as I bid thee, I have, as I before did tell thee, provided for thee an open fountain to wash thy garments in. Look therefore that thou wash often in my fountain, and go not in defiled garments ; for as it is to my dis- honour and my disgrace, so it will be to thy dis- comfort, when you shall walk in filthy garments. Ze. iiL 3, 4. Let not therefore my garments, your garments, the garments that I gave thee, be defiled or spotted by the flesh. Jude 23. Keep thy garments always white, and let thy head lack no ointment. My Mansoul, I have oft-times delivered thee from the designs, plots, attempts, and conspiracies of Diabolus, and for all this I ask thee nothing, "but that thou render not to me evil for my good, but that thou bear in mind my love, and the con- tinuation of my kindness to my beloved Mansoul, so as to provoke thee to walk, in thy measure, according to the benefit bestowed on thee. Of old the sacrifices were bound with cords to the horns of the golden altar. Consider what is said to thee, 0 my blessed Mansoul. 0 my Mansoul, I have lived, I have died, I live, and will die no more for thee. 1 live that thou mayest not die. Because I live thou shalt live also. I reconciled thee to my Father by the blood of my cross, and being reconciled thou shalt live through me. I will pray for thee, I will fight for thee, I will yet do thee good. Nothing can hurt thee but sin; nothing can grieve me but sin ; nothing can make thee base before thy foes but sin; Take heed of sin, my Mansoul.3 And dost thou know why I at first, and do still suffer Diabolonians to dwell in thy walls, 0 Man- soul ? It is to keep thee wakening, to try thy love, to make thee watchful, and to cause thee yet to prize my noble captains, their soldiers, and my mercy. It is also that yet thou mayest be made to re- member what a deplorable condition thou once wast in. I mean when, not some, but all did dwell, not in thy walls, but in thy castle, and in thy strong hold, 0 Mansoul! 0 my Mansoul, should I slay all them within, many there be without that would bring thee into bondage ; for were all those within cut off, those without would find thee sleeping, and then as in a moment they would swallow up my Mansoul. I therefore let them in thee, not to do thee hurt, the which they yet will, if thou hearken to them, and serve them; but to do thee good, the which they must, if thou watch and fight against them. Know therefore that whatever they shall tempt thee to, my design is that they should drive thee, not further off, but nearer to my Father, to learn thee war, to make petitioning desirable to thee, and to make thee little in thine own eyes. Hearken diligently to this, my Mansoul. Show me then thy love my Mansoul, and let not those that are within thy Avails, take thy affections off from him that hath redeemed thy soul. Yea, let the sight of a Diabolonian heighten thy love to me. I came once, and twice, and thrice to save thee from the poison of those arrows that would have wrought thy death; stand for me, thy friend, my Mansoul, against the Diabolonians, and I will stand for thee before my Father, and all his court. Love me against temptation, and I will love thee notwithstanding thine infirmities. 0 my Mansoul, remember what my captains, my soldiers, and mine engines have done for thee. They have fought for thee, they have suffered by thee, they have born much at thy hands to do thee 1 Holiness of heart and life are indispensable of true disciple- ship to the holy Jesus ; not to justify us, but to evidence our election to eternal life. ' As he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation.' 1 Pe. i. 15. A holy walk preserves communion with our Lord, who is our righteousness and strength. — (Mason.) 2 How blessed are those who are kept unspotted from the world 1 who live in the laud of Beuluh, waiting to be trans- lated to the celestial city ; and who, if defiled, are enabled to apply to the fountain opened, and wash away their stains. 'Blessed are the people that are in such a case.' — (Ed.) 3 Sin hurled the angels out of heaven ; sin deprived man of paradise and the favour of God ; sin crucified the Lord of life and glory ; sin will confine myriads of devils and men in the bottomless pit of misery for ever. May we hate it with a perfect hatred ; aud the grace of Jesus eradicate the love, and destroy the dominion of it, iii our hearts. — (Mason.) THE HOLY WAR. 373 JO" good, 0 Mansoul. Hadst thou not had them to help thee, Diabolus had certainly made a hand of thee.1 Nourish them, therefore, my Mansoul. When thou dost well, they will be well ; when thou dost ill, they will be ill, and sick, and weak. Make not my captains sick, 0 Mansoul, for if they be sick, thou canst not be well ; if they bo weak, thou canst not be strong ; if they be faint, thou canst not be stout and valiant for thy King, 0 Mansoul. Nor must thou think always to live by sense, thou must live upon my Word. Thou must believe, 0 my Mansoul, when I am from thee, 1 'To make a hand on,' to waste, spoil, or destroy. — Ilalli- well.— (Ed.) - In this truly evangelical speech, the Lord Jesns is repre- sented as recapitulating his gracious dealings with the souls of his people. Salvation is uniformly ascribed to the free mercy of the Father, and the precious blood of the Son. Every gracious soul will cordially say, ' Not unto me, not unto me, 0 Lord, but to thy name be all the glory.' Emmanuel then that yet I love thee, and bear thee upon mine heart for ever. Remember therefore, 0 my Mansoul, that thou art beloved of me; as I have therefore taught thee to watch, to fight, to pray, and to make war against my foes, so now I command thee to believe that my love is constant to thee. 0 my Mansoul, how have I set my heart, my love upon thee, watch. Behold, I lay none other burden upon thee, than what thou hast already, hold fast till I come.9 informs them of his intention to take down the present town of Mansoul, and to rebuild it in a more glorious manner; in other words, to remove the believer to glory, and raise up his mortal body to everlasting honour and happiness, when sin, sorrow, and temptation shall never more be known. Till this event takes place, he directs his people to keep their garments white and clean — that is, to be holy in all manner of conver- sation and godliness ; to watch carefully against sin, which is the only thing that can hurt them ; and to live every day [in holiness and good works] by faith in the Word of God. — (Border.) AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE EEADER. Soite say the Pilgrim's Progress is not mine, Insinuating as if I would shine In name and fame by the 'worth of another, Like some made rich by robbing of their brother. Or that so fond I am of being sire, I'll father bastards ; or, if need require, I'll tell a be in print to get applause. I scorn it : John such dirt-heap never was, Since God converted hiin. Let this suffice To show why I my Pilgrim patronize. It came from mine own heart, so to my head, And thence iuto my fingers trickled ; Then to my pen, from whence immediately On paper I did dribble it daintily. Manner and matter too was all mine own, Nor was it unto any mortal known, 'Till I had done it. Nor did any then By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, Add five words to it, or write half a hue Thereof : the whole, and every whit, is mine. Also, for this thine eye is now upon, The matter in this manner came from none But the same heart, and head, fingers, and pen, As did the other. Witness ah good men ; Por none in all the world, without a lie, Can say that this is mine, excepting I. I write not this of any ostentation, Nor 'cause I seek of men their commendation ; I do it to keep them from such surmise, As tempt them will my name to scandalize. Witness my name, if anagram' d to thee, The letters make, Nu /ion?/ in a B. John Buni-an. THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN A DESCRIPTION OF THE MAN THAT GETS TO HEAVEN: TOGETHER WITn THE WAY HE RUNS IN, THE BAKES HE GOES BY ; ALSO. SOME DIRECTIONS HOW TO RUN SO AS TO OBTAIN. 1 And it came to pass, when they had brought them forth abroad, that he said, Escape for thy life ; look not behind til neither stay thou in all the plain: escape to the mountain, lest l/tou be consumed.' — Gen. six. 17. Loudon: Printed for John Marshall, at the Bible in Graccehurch Street, lC'JS. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. About forty years ago a gentleman, in whose com- pany I had commenced my pilgrimage, and who had joined me in communion with a Baptist church, about four years previously, came to my house one Monday morning, greatly delighted with the sermon which our pastor had preached on the previous day, while I was engaged in superintending the Sunday school. It had caused a very remarkable sensation, which, if properly followed up, hid fair to occasion an extraordinary revival of religion iu the neigh- bourhood. He, with the deacons, had begged of our minister to fill up his outline, and prepare the sermon for publication, to which he had consented. He wished to ascertain from me, as a publisher, the expense of printing five thousand copies, being sure that the sale of it would be unprecedented, not only throughout the kingdom, but as far as the English language was spoken. In about a week, the copy fairly written was left with me. The text was neb. xiL l, ' Let us run with patience the race that is set before us.' After the intro- duction that all men desire heaven, but all do not rim for it — the word run was explained as a flying, pressing, persevering. Then seven reasons, and nine directions, were followed by nine motives and nine uses. This, and the striking ideas and language of the sermon, brought Bunyan to my re- collection, and, on comparison, it proved to be the Heavenly Footman, with very slight alterations. Having then very recently purchased a neat edition of the book, at a very low price, my inquiry was, whether they would not prefer having the book in its genuine state, especially as it was ready for delivery. I need not add, that all thoughts of circulating the sermon was at once abandoned. In conversation with my excellent pastor, who afterwards for many years bore the honour of a D.D., he acknowledged his obligation to me for detecting the plagiarism before the sermon was published, and explained to me that, when very young, he had read Bunyan's Heavenly Footman with intense interest, and made a full analysis of it, in the shape of notes, which, having committed to memory, he preached to a very delighted and deeply impressed congregation ; that after a lapse of many years, looking over the outlines of his early ser- mons, he was struck with it, and believing it to be his own composition, had again used it with such extraordinary success, as led his deacons and mem- bers to request him to print it. Doubtless Bunyan being dead has often similarly spoken — may his voice never be lost in sdencc or be forgotten. The title of ' Heavenly Footman ' was probably suggested by the words of the prophet Jeremiah, ' If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with horses? And in the land of peace thou trustedst, then how wdt thou do in the swelling of Jordan ? ' >:ii. o, and ' Let us run with patience the race that is set before us.' Heb. xii. 1. The word footman does not refer to that class of servants who are badged and dressed in livery to gratify the of their masters, nor to that description of foot- soldiers or infantry, whose business is designated by the blood-stained colour of their clothes. But it refers to those who are travelling on foot to a distant country, engaged on a pilgrimage from earth to heaven. It is worthy of remark, that the whole of the children of God, of every age and clime, class aud kindred, the richest and the poorest, all are upon terms of perfect equality in / the race set before them. Xo wealth, nor grade, can procure a horse to carry them, or a car- riage to ride in ; all must run on foot. The only carriage for the foot-sore, weary pilgrim, is the bosom of Christ; he carries the lambs in his bosom, and there is room enough for all ; the poorest labourer and the noblest aristocrat meet there upon a level with each other; first class for the rich, and parliamentary train 376 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. for the poor. It is all first class. In the varied adventures of Christian and his associates, and of Christiana, her children, and her lovely friend Mercy, they never ride. The little one is led hy the hand up the steep and rough hill Difficulty, hut his own feet carry him throughout the wearisome road. The only carriage was the fiery chariot which carried the soul of the martyred Faithful to the Celestial City; there is no riding to heaven while in the hody. Wealth may procure many pleasures to clog the sovd in its journey. It may purchase indulgencies ; it may incline some disciples to look at sinful imperfec- tions through the wrong end of the telescope ; it may purchase prayers — hut devotional exercises, bought by gold, will freeze the soul. It is the poor disciple that receives the faithful admonitions of his equally poor fellow-saints. The rich have more ceremony, while the labourer enjoys more richly, more free from restraint, the warm out- pourings of a devotional spirit. Still there is no- thing to prevent the greatest nobleman or monarch from running to heaven in company with the dis- ciples of our lowly Master. If he refuses this road and this company, he must pursue his downward course to destruction. The order in which the allegorical works of Bunyan were written, very naturally suggest itself from his own narratives, and from the dates of their publication. It was thus, while suffering his tedious and dangerous imprisonment for Christ's sake, he was led to write an account of the deal- ings of God with his soul, which work he published in 1666, under the title of Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. While engaged in writing this remarkable narrative, the almost unbounded alle- gorical powers of his mind were brought into exercise — ' And thus it was : I writing of the way And race of saints, in this our gospel-day, Tell suddenly into an allegory Ahout their journey, and the way to glory.' Having finished his Grace Abounding, he allowed his fertile imagination its full scope, and again wrote the result of his experience in the form of an alle- gorical narrative, called the Pilgrim'' s Progress from this World to that which is to Come. At first the thoughts pressed upon him as fast as he could write them, yet he says — * I did not think To show to all the world my pen and ink In such a mode.' And it was several years before he ventured to publish his beautiful allegory. He was released from prison in 1672, having been chosen in the previous year to be the pastor, or ministering elder of the church at Bedford. His time was then much occupied in re-organizing the church, after years of tempest and fiery persecution. At length, having overcome his own and his friends' reluctance to publish so solemn a work on the conversion of a sinner and his way to heaven, in the form of an allegory, the Pilgrim's Progress was printed in 1678. The wonderful popularity of this book, and the great good it produced, led him again to turn his Grace Abounding into a different form of narra- tive, in the more profound allegory of the Holy War; this was published in 1682, and in two years afterwards he completed the Pilgrim by a delightful second part. His long incarceration, followed by sudden and great activity, probably brought clown his robust constitution ; and as the end of his course drew nigh, he was doubly diligent, for in 1688, before his death-day, which was in August, he published six important treatises, and had prepared fourteen or fifteen others for the press. Among these were his final and almost dying instructions to the pilgrim, under the title of Tfie Heavenly Footman, the man whom he describes in the poetical apology to the Pilgrim's Progress, as he that 'Runs and runs, Till he unto the gate of glory comes.' This treatise sheds a lustre over the latter days of our immortal allegorist. It is evidently the pro- duction of a mind expanded and chastened with the rich experience of sanctified age. In it we are reminded of those important directions to heavenly footmen, contained in his most admired books. Is there a Slough of Despond to be passed, and a hill Difficulty to be overcome? Here the footman is reminded of ' many a dirty step, many a high hill, a long and tedious journey through a vast howling wilderness ;' but he is encouraged, ' the land of promise is at the end of the way.' p. 382. Must the man that would win eternal glory draw his sword, put on his helmet, and fight his way into the temple — the heavenly foot- man must press, crowd, and thrust through all that stand between heaven and his soul. p. ssi. Did Ignorance, who perished from the way, say to the pilgrims, • You go so fast, I must stay awhile behind?' He who runs to heaven is told that the heavy-heeled, lazy, wanton, and foolish professor 'will not attain the prize, p. 382. The wicket-gate, at the head of the way, is all- important ; none can get to heaven unless they enter by Christ, the door and way, so the footman is reminded that it matters not how fast he runs, he can never attain the prize, if he is in the wrong road, p. 382. Did the pilgrims so severely suffer from en- tering upon Byepath-meadow, and even after that bitter experience were they again misled into a bye path, by a black man clothed in white raiment ? Our footman is warned — Beware then of bye and crooked ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 377 paths that lead to death and damnation ; the way to heaven is one, still there are many well-heaten byc- paths that hutt or shoot down upon it, and which lead to destruction, p. 884. To prevent vain and foolish company from calling you out of the path, or from loitering in it, say, I am in haste, I am running for a prize; if I win I am made, I win all; if I lose I lose all, and am undone, p. 886. So it was with Faithful when even Christian, who saw him before, cried Ho ho, so ho. Faithful answered, ' No, I am upon my life, the avenger of hlood is behind me.' In the same way the pilgrims refused the invitations of Demas with his silver mine. No, says the heavenly footman, I am running for heaven, for my soul, for God, for Christ, from hell and everlasting damnation, p. ssg. Did the poor pilgrims go grunting, puffing, and sighing, one tumhlcth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt, one cries out, I am down, and another, IIo ! where are you ? Pilgrims Progress, p. 286. So the footman is told that he will ' meet with cross, pain, and wearisomeness to the flesh, with briars and quagmires, and other encumbrances,' through all which he must persevere. p.3S7. Did Formalist and Hypocrite turn off into bye-ways at the foot of the hill Difficulty, and miserably perish ? Did Mistrust and Timorous run back for fear of the persecuting lions, Church and State? So the man that runs for heaven is cautioned — ' Some when they come at the cross can go no further, but back again to their sins they go, stumble and break their necks, or turn aside to the left or to the right, and perish.' p. 388. Be not ready to halt, nor run hobbling and halting, but, like my Lord Will-be-will in the Holy War, when fighting against Diabolus, get thy will tipt with heavenly grace, and go full speed for heaven. These quotations tend to prove that this invaluable treatise is a summary of the guide books which Bunyan had before written. It was doubt- less one of the last productions of his prolific pen. Two passages in the Heavenly Footman appear to favour the idea, that a period in life is, in some cases, fixed, beyond which there is no repentance ; thus in p. 373, in a solemn warning against procras- tination he says, ' Dost thou know whether the day of grace will last a week longer or no ? For the day of grace is past with some before their life is ended ;' and p. 382, ' sometimes sinners have not heaven gates open to them so long as they suppose ; and if they be once shut against a man, they are so heavy that all the men in the world, nor all the angels in heaven, can open them. Francis Spira can tell thee what it is to stay till the gate of mercy be quite shut.' It becomes an interesting inquiry as to who Bunyan means by the ' some' of whom he says, ' that the day of grace is past be- fore their life is ended.' This cannot refer to those who, neglecting the Saviour, are iu a perishing con- vol. in. dition. No minister felt a more ardent desire to rouse them to a sense of their danger and to guard them against despair than John Bunyan. In his Jerusalem Sinner Saved he thus argues ' Why des- pair ? thou art yet in the land of the living.' « It is a sin to begin to despair before one sets bis foot over the thrcshhold of hell gates.' « What, despair of bread in a land that is full of corn ? Despair of mercy when our God is full of mercy, thou scrupu- lous fool ; despair when we have a redeeming Christ alive. Let them despair that dwell where there is no God, and that are confined to those chambers of death which can be reached by no redemption. In Banyan's Come and Welcome, he proves that it would be ' high blasphemy and damnable wickedness' to imagine that Christ would cast out any that come to God by him. lie cannot mean the backslider, for Bunyan was such. David also, to an awful extent, and Peter to the denial of his Lord. No, he may mean those who, while neglecting the Saviour, are overtaken by madness, or more probably to such as Judas, Spira, and others who sell their Master, or renounce him. If a man abandons the Saviour, there is no other name under heaven whereby he can be saved ; ' there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin;' he is a despiser of God's way of salvation, and tramples under foot the Son of God. While such a career continues, fiery indignation must be his wretched destiny. They who contemn the heavenly gift — the Holy Ghost — the word of God — the powers of the world to come — if they persevere unto death in such sentiments, the day of grace is past. There have been some who, like Esau, having sold their birthright, sought repentance even with tears, but found it not — they sought it not in God's appointed way. All hope depends upon such sinners coming unto Christ, humbled and broken-hearted. He is willing, He is able to save even then to the utter- most, but they will not.' He has promised, and will perform his word, ' him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out.' The volume of inspira- tion is crowned at its close with the same cheering encouragement, ' And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.' I cannot imagine that any man would have sung with greater pleasure than Bunyan that hymn of Dr. Watts' — ' Life is the time to serve the Lord, The time to insure the great reward ; And while the lamp holds out to barn, The vilest sinner may return.' They only who reject the counsel and mercy of God, shut heaven's gates against their own souls, and rush upon Jehovah's bncklerlikeJndas, or Spira, or like one of Bunyan's early friends, John Childs, who apostatized for fear of persecution, an. 1 perish) A by his own hand. To such only the day of grace 48 378 EHSTLE TO SLOTHFUL AND CARELESS PEOPLE. is past ; they have set themselves in the scorner's seat, from which they will he hurled into unutter- ahle wretchedness. Bunyan well knew that idleness engenders poverty and crime, and is the parent of every evil; and he exhorts his runner to the greatest diligence, not to ' fool away his soul ' in slothfulness, which induces carelessness, until the sinner is remedyless. Our first care is to get into the right way, and then so to rim that ' the devil, who is light of foot,' may not overtake and trip us up. Running to heaven does not prevent the true, the real enjoyment of earthly blessings, hut sanctifies and heightens them. The great impetus in our course is love to the prize — to Christ, to heaven; • having our affections set upon things above.' Looking unto Jesus. His righteousness imputed unto us by the shedding of his blood, marks all the road, and while we keep that in sight we cannot err. In all earthly things we anticipate too much — but in the glories of heaven, our anticipations are feeble indeed, com- pared with eternal realities. Could the saints in glory impart to us a sense of their indescribable happiness, with what activity and perseverance we should run. The case of Lot, when flying from destruction, is put by Bunyan with peculiar force — he dared not to look back even to see what had become of his wife, lest death should overtake his own soul. p. 394. 0, my reader, may we be stimulated so to run as to obtain that crown of glory which is imperishable, immortal, and eternal. •Charles Doe, one of Bunyan's personal friends, having purchased the copyright of this work, kept it for some years, in hope of publishing it with other treatises, as a second folio volume, to complete his works; but failing in this object, he printed it separ- ately in 1698, and appended an interesting list of Bunyan's works, with thirty cogent reasons why these invaluable labours should be preserved and handed down, to bless succeeding ages. Aii earnest desire to preserve, in their perfect integrity, all the treatises as they were originally published, will induce me, at the end of the works, to reprint those interesting additions. Geo. Ofpor. ffl EPISTLE TO ALL THE SLOTHFUL AND CAEELESS PEOPLE. Friends, Solomon saith, that 'The desire of the slothful killeth him ;' and if so, what will slothfulness itself do to those that entertain it? Pr. xxi. 25. The pro- verb is, ' He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame. Pr. x. s. And this I dare be bold to say, no greater shame can befal a man, than to see that he hath fooled away his soul, and sinned away eternal life. And I am sure this is the next way to do it ; namely, to be slothful ; slothful, I say, in the work of salvation. The vineyard of the sloth- ful man, in reference to the things of this life, is not fuller of briars, nettles, and stinking weeds, than he that is slothful for heaven, hath his heart full of heart-ehoaking and soul-damning sin. Slothfulness bath these two evils: First, To neglect the time in which it should be getting of heaven ; and by that means doth, in the Second place, bring in untimely repentance. I will war- rant you, that he who shall lose his soul in this world through slothfulness, will have no cause to be glad thereat when he comes to hell. Slothfulness is usually accompanied with care- lessness, and carelessness is for the most part be- gotten by senselessness ; and senselessness doth again put fresh strength into slothfulness, and by this means the soul is left remediless. Slothfulness shutteth out Christ ; slothfulness shameth the soul. Ca.v. 2-4. Pr. xffl. 4. Slothfulness, it is condemned even by the feeblest of all the creatures. ' G o to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise. Pr. vi. e. The slug- gard will not plow by reason of the cold ;' xs. 4 ; that is, he will not break up the fallow ground of his heart, because there must be some pains taken by him that will do it; 'therefore shall he beg in harvest,' that is, when the saints of God shall have their glorious heaven and happiness given to them ; but the sluggard shall 'have nothing,' that is, be never the better for his crying for mercy, according to that in Mat. xxv. 10-12. If you would know a sluggard in the things of heaven, compare him with one that is slothful in the things of this world. As, 1 . He that is sloth- fid is loth to set about the work he should follow : so is he that is slothful for heaven. 2. He that is slothful is one that is willing to make delays : so is he that is slothful for heaven. 3. He that is a sluggard, any small matter that cometh in between, he will make it a sufficient excuse to keep him oft* from plying his work : so it is also with him that is slothful for heaven. 4. He that is slothful doth his work by the halves ; and so it is with him that is slothful for heaven. He may almost, but he shall never altogether obtain perfection of deliverance from hell ; he may almost, but he shall never, with- out he mend, be altogether a saint. 5. They that are slothful, do usually lose the season in which things are to be done : and thus it is also with them that are slothful for heaven, they miss the season ! of grace. And therefore, 6. They that are sloth- EPISTLE TO SLOTHFUL AND CARELESS PEOPLE. 379 fill have seldom or never good fruit : so also it will be with the soul-sluggard. 7. They that are sloth- ful they are chid for the same : so also will Christ deal with those that are not active for him. Thou wicked or slothful servant, out of thine own mouth will I judge thee ; thou saidst I was thus, and thus, wherefore then gavest not thou my money to the bank? &c. Lu. xix. -.'2. Take the unprofitable ser- vant, and east him into utttT darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Mat. xxv. m-BBu What shall I say ? Time runs ; and will you be slothful ? Much of your lives arc past ; and will you be slothful? Your soids are worth a thousand worlds ; and will you be slothful? The day of death and judgment is at the door ; and will you be slothful? The curse of God hangs over your heads; and will you be slothful? Besides, the devils are earnest, laborious, and seek by all means every day, by every sin, to keep you out of heaven, and hinder you of salvation ; and will you be slothful ? Also your neighbours are diligent for things that will perish ; and will you be slothful for things that will endure for ever ? Would you be willing to be damned for slothfulness ? Would you be willing the angels of God should neglect to fetch your soids away to heaven when you lie a- dying, and the devils stand by ready to scramble for them ? * Was Christ slothful in the work of your redemption ? Are his ministers slothful in tendering this unto you? And, lastly, If all this will not move, I tell you God will not be slothful or negli- gent to damn you — whose damnation now of along time slumbereth not — nor the devils will not ne- glect to fetch thee, nor hell neglect to shut its mouth upon thee. Sluggard, art thou asleep still? art thou resolved to sleep the sleep of death ? Wilt neither tidings from heaven or hell awake thee ? Wilt thou say still, 'Yet a little sleep, a little slumber,' and 'a little folding of the hands to sleep?' Pr. vi. 10. Wilt thou yet turn thyself in thy sloth, as the door is turned upon the hinges? 0 that I was one that was skilful in lamentation, and had but a yearning heart towards thee, how would I pity thee ! How would I bemoan thee! 0 that I could with Jere- miah let my eyes run down with rivers of water for thee! Poor soul, lost soul, dying soul, what a hard heart have I that I cannot mourn for thee ! * It was the commonly received opinion that, at the mo- ment of death, the angels and devils strove to carry away the soul. If the dying man had received the eousecrated wafer, the devils were scared at it, and lost their victim. Hence the prayer — ' From lightning, battle, murder, and sudden death, good Lord, deliver us;' a curious coutrast to, 'Thy will be done !' Were they sinners above all men upon whom the tower in Siloam fell and slew them ? Lu. xiii. 4. O that men would rely upon the righteousness of Christ stimulating them to ran for glory, as heavenly footmen, and not upon the nos- trums of Antichrist ! — Ed. If thou shouldst lose but a limb, a child, or a friend, it would not be so much, but poor man it is TOY SOUL ; if it was to lie in hell but for but for a year, nay, ten thousand years, it would (in comparison) be nothing. But 0 it is lor 0 this cutting ever ! What a soul-amazing word will that be, which saith, 'Depart from me, r« cursed, into everlasting fire'! &c.t Object. But if 1 should set in, and run as you would have me, then I must run from all my friends ; for none of them are running that way. Answ. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into t\a bosom of Christ and of God, and then what hai i will that do thee? Object. But if I run this way, then I must run from all my sins. Answ. That is true indeed ; yet if thou dost not, thou wilt run into hell-fire. Object. But if I run this way, then I shall be hated, and lose the love of my friends and rela- tions, and of those that I expect benefit from, or have reliance on, and I shall be mocked of all my neighbours. Answ. And if thou dost not, thou art sure to lose the love and favour of God and Christ, the benefit of heaven and glory, and be mocked of God for thy folly, 'I also will laugh at your calamity; 1 will mock when your fear cometh ;' and if thou wouldst not be hated and mocked, then take heed thou by thy folly dost not procure the displeasure and mockings of the great God; for his mocks and hatred will be terrible, because they will fall upon thee in terrible times, even when tribulation and anguish* taketh hold on thee ; which will be when death and judgment comes, when all the men in the earth, and all the angels in heaven, cannot help thee. Pr. i. 20-23. Object. But surely I may begin this time enough, a year or two hence, may I not? Answ. 1. Hast thou any lease of thy life ? Did ever God tell thee thou shalt live half a year, or two months longer ? nay, it may be thou mayst not live so long. And therefore, 2. Wilt thou be so sottish and unwise, as to venture thy soul upon a little uncertain time? 3. Dost thou know whether the day of grace will last a week longer or no? For the day of grace is past with some before their life is ended: and if it should be so with thee, f In a very beautifully ornamented Liturgy of the Church of England, prior to the Reformation, after the Salisbury use, printed in 1526 (in the Editor's library), is this direction — ' These iii. prayers be wrytten in the chapel of the hoi] in Rome, who that dcuoutly say them they shall ob: ; hundred thousand years of pardon for deadly sins gran I oure holy father Jhon xxii pope of Rome.' The three prayers only occupy twenty-six short lines, and may be grm peated in two minutes. Such was aud is Papery ! ! the end of all this promised pardon ft* a million of years-- what then? Will eternal 1 nenceP — : Ed. 380 THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOK. wouldst thou not say, 0 that I had hegua to run hefore the day of grace had heen past, and the gates of heaven shut against me. But, 4. If thou shouldst see any of thy neighbours neglect the making sure of either house or land to themselves, if they had it proffered to them, saying, Time enough hereafter, when the time is uncertain ; and besides, they do not know whether ever it will be proffered to them again, or no: I say, Wouldst thou not then call them fools ? And if so, then dost thou think that thou art a wise man to let thy immor- tal soul hang over hell by a thread of uncertain time, which may soon be cut asunder by death? But to speak plainly, all these are the words of a slothful spirit. Arise man, be slothful no longer ; set foot, and heart, and all into the way of God, and run, the crown is at the end of the race ; there also standeth the loving fore-runner, even Jesus, who hath prepared heavenly provision to make thy soul welcome, and he will give it thee with a will- inger heart than ever thou canst desire it of him. 0 therefore do not delay the time any longer, but put into practice the words of the men of Dan to their brethren, after they had seen the goodness of the land of Canaan: 'Arise,' say they, Tim. ii. 5. What, do you think that every heavy- heeled professor will have heaven ? What, every lazy one ; every wanton and foolish professor, that will be stopped by anything, kept back by any- thing, that scarce runneth so fast heaven-ward as a .mail creepeth on the ground ? Nay, there are some professors do not go on so fast in the way of God as a snail doth go on the wall ; and yet these think, that heaven and happiness is for them. But stay, there are many more that run than there be that obtain ; therefore ho that will have heaven must run for it. Second, Because you know that though a man do ruu, yet if he do not overcome, or win, as well as run, what will he be the better for his running ? He will get nothing. You know the man that runneth, lie doth do it that he may win the prize ; but if he doth not obtain, he doth lose Ms labour, spend his pains and time, and that to no purpose ; I say, lie getteth nothing. And ah ! how many such run- ners will there be found at the day of judgment ! Even multitudes, multitudes that have run, yea, run so far as to come to heaven gates, and not able to get any further, but there stand knocking, when it is too late, crying, Lord, Lord, when they have nothing but rebukes for their pains. Depart from me, you come not here, you come too late, you run too lazily; the door is shut.1 'When once the master of the house is risen up,' saith Christ, 'and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand with- out, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us, I will say, I know ye not, Depart,' &c. Lu. xiii. 25. 0 sad will the estate of those be that run and miss ; therefore, if you will have heaven, you must run for it; and 'so run that ye may obtain.' Tliird, Because the way is long (I speak meta- phorically), and there is many a dirty step, many a high hill, much work to do, a wicked heart, world, and devil, to overcome ; I say, there are many steps to be taken by those that intend to be saved, by running or walking, in the steps of that faith of our father Abraham. Out of Egypt thou must go through the Red Sea ; thou must run a long and tedious journey, through the vast howling wilder- ness, before thou come to the land of promise. Fourth, They that will go to heaven they must run for it ; because, as the way is long, so the time in which they are to get to the end of it is very un- 1 How awfully is this pictured to the soul in that solemn account of the day of death and judgment in Mat. xxv.; and how strikingly applied in the Pilgrim's Progress in the char- acter of Ignorance. — (En.) 2 'When the bell be-ins io toll, Lord have mercy on the soul.' The Papists imagine that there is an extraordinary power in the bell hallowed by baptism to drive away the spirits of dark- m-ss, so that the departing soul may take its journey without certain ; the time present is the only time ; thou hast no more time allotted thee than that thou now enjoyest. ' Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. ' r>r. xxvii. i. Do not say, I have time enough to get to heaven seven years hence ; for I tell thee, the bell may toll for thee before seven days more be ended ; 2 and when death comes, away thou must go, whether thou art provided or not ; and therefore look to it ; make no delays ; it is not good dallying with things of so great concernment as the salvation or dam- nation of thy sold. You know he that hath a great way to go in a little time, and less by half than he thinks of, he had need kdn for it. Fifth, They that will have heaven they must run for it ; because the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell, follow them. There is never a poor soul tbat is going to heaven, but the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell, make after that soul. ' Your ad- versary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.' 1 Pe. v. 8. And I will assure you, the devil is nimble, he can run apace, he is light of foot, he hath overtaken many, he hath turned up their heels, and hath given them an everlasting fall. Also the law, that can shoot a great way, have a care thou keep out of the reach of those great guns, the ten commandments. Hell also hath a wide mouth ; it can stretch itself further than you are aware of. And as the angel said to Lot, Take heed, ' look not behind thee, neither tarry thou in all the plain,' that is, any where between this and heaven, 'lest thou be con- sumed. ' 3 Ge. xix. 17. So say I to thee, Take heed, tarry not, lest either the devil, hell, death, or the fearful curses of the law of God, do overtake thee, and throw thee down in the midst of thy sins, so as never to rise and recover again. If this were well considered, then thou, as well as I, wouldst say, They that will have heaven must run for it. Sixth, They that will go to heaven must run for it ; because perchance the gates of heaven may be shut shortly. Sometimes sinners have not heaven- gates open to them so long as they suppose ; and if they be once shut against a man, they are so heavy, that all the men in the world, nor all the angels in heaven, are not able to open them. I shut, 'and no man openeth,' saith Christ. And how if thou shouldst come but one quarter of an hour too late? I tell thee, it will cost thee an eternity to bewail thy misery in. Francis Spira can tell thee what it is to stay till the gate of mercy molestation ! ! It was also intended to rouse the faithful to pray for the dead person's soul. This, and other superstitious practices, were suspended during the Protectorate in some parishes, if not generally, but were revived at the Restoration, because the omission injured the revenues of the church. — See Brand's Popular Antiquities. — (Ed.) 3 This quotation, probably made from memory, is a mixture of the Genevan and the present version. — (Ed.) THE HEAVENLY EOOTMAN. C:3 bo quite shut; or to run so lazily, that they Lc shut before thou get within then.1 What, to be shut out! -what, out of heaven! Sinner, rather than lose it, run fur it; yea, and 'so run thattbou mayst obtain.' Seventh, Lastly, Because if thou lose, thou losest all, thou losest soul, God, Christ, heaven, ease, peace, .) 3 ' Happily,' or haply, were 'formerly used to express the same meaning. — (Ed.) 4 'Sink-souls' is one of Bunyan's strong Saxqtusms, full of meaning. 'Sink' is that in which filth or foulness is deposited. ' She poured forth out of her hellish sink Iler fruitful cursed spawn.'— Speuccr.— (F.D.) 49 386 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. You know what It cost the young man which Solomon speaks of in the 7th of the Proverbs, that was enticed by a harlot, ' With her much fair speech she ' won him, and * caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him,' till he went after her 'as an ox to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks;' even so far, • till the dart struck through his liver, and knew not that it was for his life. Hearken unto me now therefore,' saith he, ' 0 ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth, let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her paths, for she hath cast down many wounded, yea, many strong men have heen slain by her,' that is, kept out of heaven by her, 'her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.' Soul, take this counsel and say, Satan, sin, lust, pleasure, profit, pride, friends, companions, and everything else, let me alone, stand off, come not nigh me, for I am running for heaven, for my soul, for God, for Christ, from hell and everlasting damnation: if I win, I win all, and if I lose, I lose all ; let me alone, for I will not hear. So run. The Seventh Direction. In the next place, be not daunted though thou meetest with never so many discouragements in thy journey thither. That man that is resolved for heaven, if Satan cannot win him by flatteries, he will endeavour to weaken him by discouragements; saying, thou art a sinner, thou hast broke God's law, thou art not elected, thou comest too late, the day of grace is past, God doth not care for thee, thy heart is naught, thou art lazy, with a hundred other dis- couraging suggestions. And thus it was with David, where he saith, « I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.' p3. xxvii. 13, 14. As if he should say, the devil did so rage and my heart was so base, that had I judged according to my own sense and feeling, I had been absolutely distracted; but I trusted to Christ in the promise, and looked that God would be as good as his promise, in having mercy upon me, an unworthy sinner; and this is that which encouraged me, and kept me from fainting. And thus must thou do when Satan, or the law, or thy own conscience, do go about to dishearten thee, either by the greatness of thy sins, the wickedness of thy heart, the tediousness of the way, the loss of outward enjoyments, the hatred that thou wilt procure from the world, or the like; then thou must encourage thyself with the freeness of the promises, the tender-hearted- ness of Christ, the merits of his blood, the freeness of his invitations to come in, the greatness of the sin of others that have been pardoned, and that the same God, through the same Christ, holdeth forth the same grace free as ever. If these be not thy meditations, thou wilt draw very heavily in the way to heaven, if thou do not give up all for lost, and so knock off from following any far- ther; therefore, I say, take heart in thy journey, and say to them that seek thy destruction, ' Re- joice not against me, 0 mine enemy, when I fall I shall arise, when I sit in darkness the Lord shall be a light unto me.' Mi. vii. 8. So run. The EigUh Direction. Take heed of being offended at the cross that thou must go by, before thou come to heaven. You must understand, as I have already touched, that there is no man that goeth to heaven but he must go by the cross. The cross is the standing way-mark by which all they that go to glory must pass by. • We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.' Ac. xiv. 22. • Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.' 2Ti. iii. 12. If thou art in the way to the kingdom, my life for thine thou wilt come at the cross shortly — the Lord grant thou dost not shrink at it, so as to turn thee back again. ' If any man will come after me,' saith Christ, ' let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.' Lu. ix. 23. The cross it stands, aud hath stood, from the be- ginning, as a way-mark to the kingdom of heaven.1 You know if one ask you the way to such and such a place, you, for the better direction, do not only say, this is the way, but then also say, you must go by such a gate, by such a style, such a bush, tree, bridge, or such like. Why, so it is here; art thou inquiring the way to heaven? Why, I tell thee, Christ is the way; into him thou must get, into his righteousness, to be justified; and if thou art in him, thou wilt presently see the cross, thou must go close by it, thou must touch it, nay, thou must take it up, or else thou wilt quickly go out of the way that leads to heaven, and turn up some of those crooked lanes that lead down to the cham- bers of death. How thou mayest know the cross by these six things. 1. It is known in the doctrine of justifi- cation. 2. In the doctrine of mortification. 3. In the doctrine of perseverance. 4. In self-denial. 5. Patience. 6. Communion with poor saints. 1. In the doctrine of justification; there is a great deal of the cross in that: a man is forced to suffer the destruction of his own righteousness for the righteousness of another. This is no easy matter for a man to do; I assure to you it stretch- eth every vein in his heart before he will be brought to yield to it. What, for a man to deny, reject, 1 This is one of Bunyan's most deeply expressive directions to the heaven-ward pilgrim; may it sink into our hearts. Christ is the way, the cross is the standing way-mark through- out the road, never out of sight. In embracing the humbling doctrines of grace, in sorrow for sin, in crucifying self, in bear- ing each other's burdens, in passing through the river that will absorb our mortality — from the new birth to our inherit- ance— the cross is the way-mark. — (Ed.) THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 3S7 Abhor, and throw away all his prayer?, tears, alms, keeping of sabbaths, hearing, reading, with the rest, in the point of justification, and to count them accursed;1 and to be willing, in the very midst of the sense of his sins, to throw himself wholly upon the righteousness and obedience of another man, abhorring his own, counting it as deadly sin, as the open breach of the law; I say, to do tbis in deed and in truth, is the biggest piece of the cross; and therefore Faul calleth tbis very thing a suffer- ing; where he saith, * And I have BUFFERED the loss of all things,' which principally was his righteousness, 'that I might win Christ, and be found in him, not having,' but rejecting, 'mine own righteousness.' rhi. Hi. 8, ». That is the first. 2. In the doctrine of mortification is also much of the cross. Is it nothing for a man to lay hands on his vile opinions, on his vile sins, of his bosom sins, of his beloved, pleasant, darling sins, that stick as close to him, as the flesh sticketh to the bones ? What, to lose all these brave things that my eyes behold, for that which I never saw with my eyes ? What, to lose my pride, my covetous- ness, my vain company, sports, and pleasures, and the rest ? I tell you this is no easy matter; if it were, what need all those prayers, sighs, watch- ings ? What need we be so backward to it ? Nay, do you not see, that some men, before they will set about this work, they will even venture the loss of their souls, heaven, God, Christ, and all ? What means else all those delays and put-offs, saying, Stay a little longer, I am loth to leave my sins while I am so young, and in health ? Again, what is the reason else, that others do it so by the halves, coldly and seldom, notwithstanding they are convinced over and over; nay, and also pro- mise to amend, and yet all's in vain ? I will assure you, to cut off right hands, and to pluck out right eyes, is no pleasure to the flesh. 3. The doctrine of perseverance is also cross to the flesh; which is not only to begin, but for to hold out, not only to bid fair, and to say, Would I had heaven, but so to know Christ, to put on Christ, and walk with Christ as to come to heaven. Indeed, it is no great matter to begin to look for heaven, to begin to seek the Lord, to begin to shun sin. 0 but it is a very great matter to con- tinue with God's approbation ! ' My servant Caleb,' saith God, is a man of ' another spirit, he hath followed me,' followed me always, he hath continually followed me, ' fully, he shall possess the land.' Xu. xiv. 24. Almost all the many thou- sands of the children of Israel in their generation, 1 Our holiest, happiest duties, if they interfere with a simple and exclusive reliance upon Christ for justification, must be accursed in our esteem ; while, if they are fulfilled in a proper spirit of love to him, they become our most blessed privileges. Kaader, be jealous of jour motives. — (Ed.) fell short of perseverance when they walked from Egypt towards the land of Canaan. Indeed thej went to the work at first pretty willingly, but tiny were very short-winded, they were quickly out of breath, and in their hearts they turned back again into Egypt. It is an easy matter for a man to run bard fur a spurt, for a furlong, for a mile or two; 0, but to hold out for a hundred, for a thousand, I'm- ten thousand miles: that man that doth this, he must look to meet with cross, pain, and wearisomeness to the flesh, especially if as he goeth he meeteth with briars and quagmires, and other incum- brances, that make his journey so much the more painfullcr. Nay, do you not see with your eyes daily, that perseverance is a very great part of the cross? why else do men so soon grow weary? I could point out a many, that after they have followed the ways of God about a twelvemonth, others it may be two, three, or four, some more, and some less years, they have been beat out of wind, have taken up their lodging and rest before they have got half-way to heaven, some in this, and some in that sin ; and have secretly, nay, sometimes openly said, that the way is too strait, the race too long, the religion too holy, and cannot hold out, I can go no farther. 4, 5, 6. And so likewise of the other three, to wit, patience, self-denial, communion, and commu- nication with and to the poor saints. How hard are these things? It is an easy matter to deny another man, but it is not so easy a matter to deny one's self; to deny myself out of love to God, to his gospel, to his saints, of this advantage, and of that gain; nay, of that which otherwise I might lawfully do, were it not for offending them. That scripture is but seldom read, and seldomer put in practice, which saith, ' I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, if it make my brother to offend. 1 Co. viii. 13. Again, ' We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.' no. xv. 1. But how froward, how hasty, how peevish, and self-resolved are the generality of professors at this day ! Also, how little con- sidering the poor, unless it be to say, Be thou warmed and filled! But to give is a seldom work; also especially to give to any poor. Ga. iL 10. I tell you all things are cross to flesh and blood; and that man that hath but a watchful eye over the flesh, and also some considerable measure of strength against it, he shall find his heart in these things like unto a starting horse, that is rid with- out a curbing bridle, ready to start at everything that is offensive to him; yea, and ready to run away too, do what the rider can. It is the cross which kcepeth those that are kept from heaven. I am persuaded, were it not 338 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. for the cross, where we have one professor, we should have twenty; but this cross, that is it which spoileth all. Some men, as I said before, when they come at the cross they can go no farther, but back again to their sins they must go. Others they stumble at it, and break their necks; others again, when they see the cross is approaching, they turn aside to the left hand, or to the right hand, and so think to get to heaven another way; but they will be deceived. ' Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall,' mark, shall be sure to ' suffer persecution.' 2Ti. m. 12. There are but few when they come at the cross, cry, ' Welcome cross, as some of the martyrs did to the stake they were burned at. Therefore, if thou meet with the cross in thy journey, in what manner soever it be, be not daunted, and say, Alas, what shall I do now! But rather take courage, knowing, that by the cross is the way to the kingdom. Can a man believe in Christ and not be hated by the devil? Can he make a profession of this Christ, and that sweetly and convincingly, and the children of Satan hold their tongue ? Can darkness agree witb light ? or the devil endure that Christ Jesus should be honoured both by faith and a heavenly conversa- tion, and let that soul alone at quiet ? Did you never read, that * the dragon persecuteth. the woman V He. s'n. And that Christ saith, ' In the world ye shall have tribulation.' Jn. xvi. 33. Tlie Ninth Direction. Beg of God that he would do these two things for thee: First, Enlighten thine understanding. And, Second, Inflame thy will. If these two be but effectually done, there is no fear but thou wilt go safe to heaven. {First, Enlighten thine understanding.] One of the great reasons why men and women do so little regard the other world, it is because they see so little of it.1 And the reason why they see so little of it is because they have their understand- ings darkened. And therefore, saith Paul, do not you believers ' walk as do other Gentiles, even in the vanity of their minds, having the understand- ing darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance,' or foolishness ' that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart.' Ep. iv. n, is. Walk not as those, run not with them : alas, poor souls, they have their understandings darkened, their hearts blinded, and that is the reason they have such undervaluing thoughts of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the salvation of their souls. For when men do come to see the things 1 This is a very solemn warning. But is it asked how are we to see that that is invisible, or to imagine bliss that is past our understanding? The reply is, treasure up iu your heart those glimpses of glory contained in the Word. Be daily in communion with the world of spirits, and it may be your lot, with Paul, to have so soul-ravishing a sense of eternal realities, as scarcely to know whether you are in the body or not. — (Ed.) of another world, what a God, what a Christ, what a heaven, and what an eternal glory there is to bo enjoyed; also when they see that it is possible for them to have a share in it, I tell you it will make them run through thick and thin to enjoy it. Moses, having a sight of this, because his under- standing was enlightened, he feared not the wrath of the king, but chose ' rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the plea- sures of sin for a season.' He refused to be called the son of the king's daughter; accounting it won- derful riches to be counted worthy of so much as to suffer for Christ, with the poor despised saints; and that was because he saw him who was in- visible, and ' had respect unto the recompence of the reward.' He. xi. 24-27. And this is that whicb the apostle usually prayeth for in his epistles for the saints, namely, ' That they might know what is the hope of God's calling, and the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints.' ep. i. 18. And that they might ' be able to comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge.' ep. iu. is, 19. Pray therefore that God would enlighten thy understanding: that will be very great help unto thee. It will make thee endure many a hard brunt for Christ; as Paul saith, ' After ye were illuminated, ye endured a great fight of afflictions. You took joyfully the spoiling of your goods, knowing in yourselves that ye have in heaven a better and an enduring sub- stance.' He. x. 32-34. If there be never such a rare jewel lie just in a man's way, yet if he sees it not, he will rather trample upon it than stoop for it, and it is because he sees it not. Why, so it is here, though heaven be worth never so much, and thou hast never so much need of it, yet if thou see it not, that is, have not thy understanding opened or enlightened to see it, thou wilt not regard at all: therefore cry to the Lord for enlightening grace, and say, Lord, open my blind eyes: Lord, take the vail off my dark heart, show me the things of the other world, and let me see the sweet- ness, glory, and excellency of them for Christ his sake. This is the first. [Second. Inflame thy ivill.] Cry to God that he woidd inflame thy will also with the things of the other Avorld. For when a man's will is fully set to do such or such a thing, then it must be a very hard matter that shall hinder that man from bringing about his end. When Paul's will was set resolvedly to go up to Jerusalem, though it was signified to him before what he should there suffer, he was not daunted at all ; nay, saith he, ' I am ready,' or willing, ' not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.' Acxxi. 13. His will was inflamed with love to Christ? and therefore all the persuasions that could be used THE HEAVENLY EOOTilAN. 389 wrought nothing at all. Your self-willed people nobody knows what to do with them ; we used to say, He will have his own will, do all what you can. Indeed to have such a will for heaven, is an admirable advantage to a man that undertaketh the race thither ; a man that is resolved, and hath his will fixed, saith he, I will do my best to ad- vantage myself; I will do my worst to hinder my enemies ; I will not give out as long as I can stand ; I will have it or I will lose my life ; ' though lie slay me yet will I trust in him.' Jobxiii. 15. ' I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' Ge. xxxii. 26. I will, I will, I will, 0 this blessed inflamed will for heaven ! What is like it ? If a man be will- ing, then any argument shall be matter of encour- agement ; but if unwilling, then any argument shall give discouragement ; this is seen both in saints and sinners ; in them that are the children of God, and also those that are the children of the devil. As, 1. The saints of old, they being willing and resolved for heaven, what could stop them? Could fire or faggot, sword or halter, stinking dungeons, whips, bears, bulls, lions, cruel rackings, stoning, starving, nakedness, &c. iie.xi. 'Nay, in all these things they were more than conquerors, through him that loved them ;' Ro. viiL 37. who had also made them ' willing in the day of his power.' 2. See again, on the other side, the children of the devil, because they are not willing [to run to heaven], how many shifts and starting-holes they will have. I have married a wife, I have a farm, I shall offend my landlord, I shall offend my master, I shall lose my trading, I shall lose my pride, my pleaures, I shall be mocked and scoffed, therefore I dare not come. I, saith another, will stay till I am older, till my children are out of sight, till I am got a little aforehand in the world, till I have done this and that, and the other busi- ness ; but alas, the thing is, they are not willing ; for were they but soundly willing, these, and a thousand such as these, would hold them no faster than the cords held Samson when he broke them like burned flax. Ju. xv. u. I tell you the will is all : that is one of the chief things which turns the wheel either backwards or forwards ; and God knoweth that full well, and so likewise doth the devil ; and therefore they both endeavour very much to strengthen the will of their ser- [Lord Will-be-will.] ri , , . ,. i • c vants. God, he is lor making ot his a willing people to serve him ; and the devil, he doth what he can to possess the will and affec- tion of those that are his, with love to sin ; and therefore when Christ conies close to the matter, indeed, saith he, ' Ye will not come to me.' Jn.v.40. 4 How often would I have gathered you as a hen doth her chickens, and ye would not.' Lu. xm. 34. The devil had possessed their wills, and so long [Lord Will-lie-will.] he was sure enough of them. 0 therefore crv hard to God to inflame thy will for heaven and Christ: thy will, I say, if that be rightly set for heaven, thou wilt not be beat off with discourage- ments ; and this was the reason that, when Jacob wrestled with the angel, though he lost a limb, as it were, and the hollow of his thigh was put out of joint, as ho wrestled with him, yet, saith he, ' I will not,' mark, ' I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' Ge. xxxii. 24-26. Get thy will tipt with the heavenly grace, and resolution against all discouragements, and then thou goest full speed for heaver. ; but if thou falter in thy will, and be not found there, thou wilt run hobbling and halting all the way thou runnest, and also to be sure thou wilt fall short at the last. The Lord give thee a will and courage ! Thus have I done with directing thee how to run to the kingdom ; be sure thou keep in memory what 1 have said unto thee, lest thou lose thy way. But because I would have thee think of them, take all in short in this little bit of paper. 1. Get into the way. 2. Then study on it. 3. Then strip, and lay aside everything that would hinder. 4. Beware of bye-paths. 5. Do not gaze and stare too much about thee, and be sure to pon- der the path of thy feet. 6. Do not stop for any that call after thee, whether it be the world, the flesh, or the devil ; for all these will hinder thy journey, if possible. 7. Be not daunted with any discouragements thou meetest with as thou goest. 8. Take heed of stumbling at the cross. 9. Cry hard to God for an enlightened heart, and a willing mind, and God give thee a prosperous journey. Yet before I do quite take my leave of thee, let me give thee a few motives along with thee. It may be they will be as good as a pair of spurs to prick on thy lumpish heart in this rich voyage.1 [V. Nine motives to urge us on in the way.] The First Motive. Consider there is no way but this, thou must either win or lose. If thou win- nest, then heaven, God, Christ, glory, ease, peace, life, yea, life eternal, is thine ; thou must be made equal to the angels in heaven ; thou shalt sorrow no more, sigh no more, feel no more pain ; thou shalt be out of the reach of sin, hell, death, the devil, the grave, and whatever else may endeavour thy hurt. But contrariwise, and if thou lose, then thy loss is heaven, glory, God, Christ, ease, peace, 1 How characteristic of Banyan is this sentence, ' the rich voyage.' God environing us about with his presence in time, and eternal felicity in the desired haven : ' the lumpish heart ' at times apparently indifferent to the glorious harvest: 'a pair of spurs' to prick us on in the course. The word voyage (from via, a way) was in Bunyan's time equally used for a journey by sea or laud, it is now limited to travelling by sea. -(Ed.) 300 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. and whatever else which tendeth to make eternity comfortable to the saints ; besides, thou procurest eternal death, sorrow, pain, blackness, and dark- ness, fellowship with devils, together with the everlasting damnation of thy own soul. The Second Motive. Consider that this devil, this hell, death and damnation, followeth after thee as hard as they can drive, and have their commis- sion so to do by the law, against which thou hast sinned ; and therefore for the Lord's sake make haste. The Third Motive. If they seize upon thee be- fore thou get to the city of Refuge, they will put an everlasting stop to thy journey. This also cries, Run for it. Tlie Fourth Motive. Know also, that now heaven gates, the heart of Christ, with his arms, are wide open to receive thee. 0 methinks that this consideration, that the devil followeth after to destroy, and that Christ standeth open-armed to receive, should make thee reach out and fly with all haste and speed ! And therefore, The Fifth Motive. Keep thine eye upon the prize; be sure that thy eyes be continually upon the pro- fit thou art like to get. The reason why men are so apt to faint in their race for heaven, it lieth chiefly in either of these two things : 1. They do not seriously consider the worth of the prize ; or else if they do, they are afraid it is too good for them ; but most lose heaven for want of considering the price and the worth of it. And therefore, that thou mayst not do the like, keep thine eye much upon the excellency, the sweetness, the beauty, the comfort, the peace, that is to be had there by those that win the prize. This was that which made the apostle run through anything; good report, evil report, persecution, affliction, hunger, nakedness, peril by sea, and peril by land, bonds and imprisonments. Also it made others endure to be stoned, sawn asunder, to have their eyes bored out with augurs, their bodies broiled on gridirons, their tongues cut out of their mouths, boiled in cauldrons, thrown to the wild beasts, burned at the stakes, Avhipped at posts, and a thousand other fearful torments, 'while they looked not at the things which are seen,' as the things of this world, 'but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things which are not seen are eternal.' 2 Co.iv.is. 0 this word 'eternal,' that was it that made them, that when they might have had deliverance, they would not accept of it ; for they knew in the world to come they should have a better resurrec- tion. He. xi. 35. 2. And do not let the thoughts of the rareness of the place make thee say in thy heart, This is too good for me; for I tell thee, heaven is prepared for whosoever will accept of it, and they shall be entertained with hearty good welcome. Consider, therefore, that as bad as thou have got thither ; thither went scrubbed,* beggarly Lazarus, u. All which words, witli tbe nature of their light and colour, the Holy Ghost doth in the vision of John comprise, and placeth within the colour of tbe jas- per and the crystal-stone. And indeed, though the vision of John and Ezekiel, touching the end of the matter, be hut one and tbe same, yet thev do very much vary and differ in terms and manner of language ; Ezekiel tells us that the man that he saw come to measure the city and temple, had in his hand 'a line of flax,' ch. iL ?,, which line John calls a golden reed ; Ezekiel tells us that the river came out of, or ' from under the threshold of the house ;' ch. xML i ; but John saith it came out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. Ezekiel tells us that on either side of this river grew all trees for food ; ran 12 ; John calls these all trees but one tree, and tells us that it stood on both sides of this river. The like might also be showed you in many other particulars ; as here you see they differ as touching the terms of the light and brightness that appears upon this city at her re- building, which the Holy Ghost represents to John under the light and glory of the jasper and crystal- stone; for indeed the end of Ezekiel's vision was to show us, that as when the glory of God departed from tbe city, it signified that he would take away from them the light of his Word, and their clear- ness of worship, suffering them to mourn for the loss of the one, and to grope for the want of the other ; so at his return again he would give them both their former light of truth, and also the clearness of spirit to understand it, which also John doth show us shall last for ever. '. . . And her light loas like unto a stone most precious. . . .' This stone it is to represent unto us the Lord Jesus Christ, in whose light and clear- ness this city comes out of Babylon ; for, as he saith, she hath the glory of God, that is, his visible hand of grace, power, and majesty, to bring her forth ; so she comes in the light of this precious stone, which terms, I say, both the prophet Isaiah and the apostle Peter do apply to the Lord Jesus, and none else ; the one calling him ' a precious corner-sfo?*e,' the other calling him the 'chief corner-stone, elect and precious.' is. xxviu. is. ipe. u.c. Now then when he saith this city hath the light of this stone to descend in, he means that she comes in the shining wisdom, knowledge, under- standing, and influences of Christ, out of her afflicted and captivated state ; and observe it, she is rather said to descend in the light of this stone, than in the light of God, though both be true, because it is the man Christ, the stone which the builders rejected, ' in whom are hid all the trea- sures of wisdom and knowledge,' of whose fulness we do all receive, and grace for grace; 'for it pleased the Father that in him should all fulness dwell. ' CoL ii. 3. Jn. i. 16. Col. i. 13. See also Ac. ii. 30. and Ep. It. 10-13. This showeth us, then, these two things — First. That the time of the return of the saints 408 THE HOLY CITY, OR to build the ruinous city is near, yea, very near, when the light of the Lord Jesus begins to shine unto perfect day in her. God will not bring forth his people out of Babylon, especially those that are to be the chief in the building of this city, The light of the without their own judgments. 'They church skill be shall see eye to eye, when the Lord according to the i -n i • . '„• , a purity of the shall bring again Zion. is. Hi. 8. As Word- he saith also in another place, ' The light of the moon shall be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of seven days, in the day that the Lord bindeth up the breach of his people, and healeth the stroke of their wound. ' is. xxx. 26. ' And the eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them that hear shall hearken. The heart also of the rash shall understand knowledge, and the tongue of the stammerers shall be ready to speak plainly. ' Is. xxxii. 3, 4. The Lord shall be now exalted, and be very high, for he will fill Zion with judgment and righteousness, and wisdom and knowledge shall be the stability of thy times, is. xxxiii. 5, 6. When Israel went out of Egypt, they wanted much of this, they went out blindfolded, as it were, they went they knew not whither ; wherefore they went not in the glory of that which this city descendeth in; as Moses said, ' The Lord hath not given you an heart to perceive, nor eyes to see, nor ears to hear, unto this day.' De. xxix. 4. But these shall see every step they take ; they shall be like the beasts that had eyes both before and behind: they shall see how far they are come out of Antichrist, and shall see also how far yet they have to go, to the com- plete rebuilding and finishing of this city. Second. This showeth us how sweet and plea- The way out of Sant the WaJ °^ ^11S cnurc^ ^^ De at Babylon a plea- this day before them. Light, know- ledge, and judgment in God's matters doth not only give men to see and behold all the things with which they are concerned, but the things themselves being good, they do also by this means convey very great sweetness and pleasant- ness into the hearts of those that have the know- ledge of them. Every step, I say, that now they take, it shall be as it were in honey and butter. • The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy [see ver. 2.] upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and glad- ness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.' Is. xxxv. 10. As he saith, ' Again I will build thee, and thou shalt be built ; 0 virgin of Israel, thou shalt again be adorned with tabrets, and shall go forth in the dances of them that make merry. — For thus saith the Lord, Sing with gladness for Jacob, and shout among the chief of the nations : publish ye, praise ye, and say, 0 Lord, save thy people, the remnant of Israel. Behold, I will bring them from the north country, and gather them from the coasts of the earth, and with them the blind and the lame, the woman with child, and her that travaileth with child together ; a great company shall return thither.' Je. xxxi. 4, 7, s. By these words, the blind and the lame, the woman with child, and her that travaileth, he would have us understand thus much — 1. That the way of God shall, by the illumin- ating grace of Christ, be made so pleasant, so sweet, and so beautiful in the souls of all at that day, that even the blindest shall not stumble therein, neither shall the lame refuse it for fear of hurt; yea, the blind, the lame, the woman with child, and her that travaileth shall, though they be of all in most evil case to travel, and go the journey, yet, at this day, by reason of the glorious light and sweetness that now will possess them, even forget their impediments, and dance, as after musical tabrets. 2. This city, upon the time of her rebuilding, shall have her blind men see, her halt and lame made strong ; she also that is with child, and her that travaileth, shall jointly see the city-work that at this day will be on foot, and put into form and order, yet before the end. • Behold, at that time I will undo all that afflict thee,' saith the Lord to his people, * and I will save her that halteth, and gather her that was driven out, and I will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame. At that time will I bring you again, even in the time that I gather you, for I will make you a name and a praise among all people of the earth, when I turn back your captivity before your eyes, saith the Lord.' Zep. iii. 19, 20. • And her light teas like unto a stone most pre- cious.' In that he saith her light is like unto ' A stone most precious, ' he showeth us how welcome, and with what eagerness of spirit this light will at this day be embraced by the Lord's people. • Truly the light is sweet, ' saith Solomon, ' and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.' Ec. xi. 7. And if so, then how beautiful, desir- Welcomewinbe able, and precious will that light be, that light that , . r , . . i p doth show us that is not only heavenly, and from the way out of Christ, but that will be universal Babyloil- among all saints, to show them the same thing, and to direct them to and in the same work. The want of this hath, to this day, been one great reason of that crossness of judgment and persua- sion that hath been found among the saints, and that hath caused that lingeriug and disputing about the glorious state of the church in the latter days ; some being for its excellency to consist chiefly in outward glory ; and others, swerving on the other side, conclude she shall not have any of this : some conceiving that this city will not be budt until the Lord comes from heaven in person ; others again THE NEW JERUSALEM. 409 concluding that when ho comes, then there shall he no longer tarrying here, but that all shall forth- with, even all the godly, he taken up into heaven: with divers other opinions in these matters. And thus many 'run to and fro,' hut yet, God he thanked, knowledge does increase, though the vision will he sealed, even to the time of the end. Da. xii. 4. But now, I say, at the time of the end, the Spirit shall he poured down upon us from on high, is. xwii. 15; now 'they also that erred in spirit shall come to understanding,' Ig.xxSi.34; the city shall descend in the light of a stone most precious. The sun will ho risen upon the earth, when Lot goeth from Sodom unto Zoar. Ge. xix. 23. Now there shall be an oneness of judgment and understanding in the hearts of all saints ; they shall he now no more two, but one in the Lord's hand. Eze. xxxvii. 19-21. Alas ! the saints are yet but as an army routed, and are apt sometimes through fear, and sometimes through forgetfulness, to mistake the word of their captain-general, the Son of God, and are also too prone to shoot and kill even their very right-hand man ; but at that day all such doing shall be laid aside, for the knowledge of the glory of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. is.xi. 9, 13. Which knowledge shall then strike through the heart and liver of all swerving and unsound opiuions in Christ's matters ; for then shall every one of the Christians call upon the name of the Lord, and that with one pure lip or language, ' to serve him with one consent.' Zep. ia. 9. It is darkness, and not light, that keepeth God's people from knowing- one another, both in their faith and language; and it is darkness that makes them stand at so great a distance both in judgment and affections, as in these and other days they have done. But then, saith God, ' I will plant in the wilderness,' that is, in the church that is now bewildered, ' the cedar, the shittah tree, the myrtle, and the oil tree; I will set in the desert the fir tree, the pine, and the box tree together ; that they may see and know, and consider and understand together, that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the holy One of Israel hath created it.' is. xiL 19, 20. And again, * The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, and the pine tree, and the box together,' to beautify the house of my glory, and to ' make the place of my feet glorious.' is. be. 13. Never was fair weather after foul — nor warm weather after cold — nor a sweet and beautiful spring after a heavy, and nipping, and terrible winter, so comfortable, sweet, desirable, and wel- come to the poor birds and beasts of the field, as this day will be to the church of God. Darkness! it was the plague of Egypt : it is an empty, for- lorn, desolate, solitary, and discomforting state; wherefore light, even the illuminating grace of VOL. III. God, especially in the measure that it shall he communicated unto us at this day, it must needs be precious. In light there is warmth and plea- sure ; it is by the light of the sun that the whole universe appears unto us distinctly, and it is by the heat thereof that everything groweth ami flourisheth ; all which will now be gloriously and spiritually answered in this holy and new Jerusa- lem. 2 Th. ii. 0 how clearly will all the spiders, and dragons, and owls, and foul spirits of Anti- christ at that day be discovered by the light here- of! Re. xviii. 1-4. Now also will all the pretty robins and little birds in the Lord's field most sweetly send forth their pleasant notes, and all the flowers and herbs of his garden spring. Then will it be said to the church by her Husband and Saviour, 1 Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away ; for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; the fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell.' Ca. a. 10-13. You know how pleasant this is, even to be fulfilled in the letter of it, not only to birds and beasts, but men; especially it is pleasant to such men that have for several years been held in the chains of affliction. It must needs, therefore, be most pleasant and desirable to the afflicted church of Christ, who hath lain now in the dungeon of Antichrist for above a thousand years. But, Lord, how will this lady, when she gets her liberty, and when she is returned to her own city, how will she then take pleasure in the warm and spangling beams of thy shining grace ! and solace herself with thee in the garden, among the nuts and the pomegranates, among the lillies and flowers, and all the chief Spices. Ca. vii. 11-13. 4 Even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal.' These words are the metaphor by which the Holy Ghost is pleased to illustrate the whole business. Indeed similitudes, if fitly spoke and applied, do much set off and out1 any point that either in the doctrines of faith or manners, is handled in the churches. Wherefore, because he would illustrate, as well as affirm, the glory of this Jerusalem to the life, therefore he concludes his general de- scription of this city with these comparisons: — I saw, saith he, the holy city, the Lamb's wife ; I saw her in her spangles, and in all her adorning, but verily she was most excellent. She was shining as the jasper, and as pure and clear as crystal. The jasper, it seems, is a very beautiful and costly stone, inasmuch as that, above all the precious stones, is made use of by the Holy Ghost to show us the glory and shining virtues of the 1 ' Set out :' render prominent, plain, or conspicuous. — Ed, 52 410 THE HOLY CITY, OR Lord Jesus in this New Jerusalem ; and yet, be- hold, the jasper is too short and slender to do the business, there must another stone be added, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal. Yea, saith the Lord Jesus, her cheeks are like rows of jewels, and so are the joints of her thighs ; even like the jewels that are ' the work of the hands of a cun- ning workman.' Ca. i. 9, io; and vii. 1. The crystal is a stone so clear and spotless, that even her greatest adversaries, in the midst of all their rage, are not able justly to charge her with the least mote or spot imaginable; wherefore when he saith, that this city in her descending is even like the jasper for light, and like the crystal for clearness ; he would have us further learn, that at the day of the descending of this Jerusalem, she shall be every way so accomplished with innocency, sincerity, and clearness in all her actions, that none shall have from her, or her ways, any just occasion given unto them to slight, contemn, or oppose her. For, First, As she descends, she meddleth not with any man's matters but her own ; she comes all along by the King's highway; that is, alone by the rules that her Lord hath prescribed for her in hia testament. The governors of this world need not at all to fear a disturbance from her, or a diminishing of ought they have. She will not meddle with their fields nor vineyards, neither will she drink of the water of their wells : only let her go by the King's highway, and she will not turn to the right hand or to the left, until she hath passed all their borders. No. xx. is, 19; xxi. 22. It is a false report then that the governors of the na- tions have received against the city, this New Jerusalem, if they believe, that according to the tale that is told them, she is and hath been of old a rebellious city, and destructive to kings, and a diminisher of their revenues. I say, these things are lying words, and forged even in the heart of ' Bishlam, Mithredath, Tabeel, and the rest of their companions.' Eze. iv. 7. For verily this city, in her descending, is clear from such things, even as clear as crystal. She is not for meddling with anything that is theirs, from a thread even to a shoe-latchet. Her glory is spiritual and heavenly, and she is satisfied with Avhat is her own.1 It is true, the kings and nations of this world shall one day bring their glory and honour to this city ; but yet not by outward force or compulsion ; none shall constrain them but the love of Christ and 1 In Bunyan's days, a few fanatics from among; the Fifth Monarchy men conceived that the millenium had arrived, and that it was their duty to take possession of the kingdom for Jesus. They were mad enough, like the late Mr. Couitnay, to imagine that their bodies were invulnerable, and they marched out to seize London. A few of the trained bands soon encountered them, some were shot and the rest were punished, and this absurd attempt was at an end in a few the beauty of this city. ' The Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the bright- See raore of this ness of thy rising.' is. lx 3. The light hereafter. and beauty of this city, that only shall engage their hearts, and overcome them. Indeed, if any shall, out of mistrust or enmity against this city and her prosperity, bend themselves to disap- point the designs of the eternal God concerning her building and glory, then they must take what followeth. Her God in the midst of her is mighty, he will rest in his love, and rejoice over her with singing, and will UNDO all that afflict her. Zep. m. 17-19. Wherefore, ' associate yourselves, 0 ye people, and ye shall be broken in pieces ; and give ear, all ye of far countries; gird yourselves, and ye shall be broken in pieces; gird yourselves, and ye shall be broken in pieces. Take counsel together, and it shall come to naught ; speak the word and it shall not stand ; for God is with us.' is. via. 9, 10. What work did he make with Og the king of Bashan, and with Sihon, king of the Amorites, for refusing to let his people go peaceably by them, when they were going to their own inheritance. Nu. xxi. 22-35. God is harmless, gentle, and pitiful; but woe be to that people that shall oppose or gain- say him. He is gentle, yet a lion ; he is loth to hurt, yet he will not be crossed ; ' Fury is not in me,' saith he; yet if you set the briars and thorns against him, He ' will go through them, and burn them together. ' is. xxvii. 4. Jerusalem also, this be- loved city, it will be beautiful and profitable to them that love her; but a cup of trembling, and a burthensome stone to all that burden themselves with her ; ' all that burthen themselves with it, shall be cut in pieces, though all the people of the earth be gathered together against her. ' Zee. xiL 2, 3. Again, she will be clear as crystal in the ob- servation of all her turns and stops, in her jour- neying from Egypt to Canaan, from Babylon to this Jerusalem state. She will, I say, observe both time and order, and will go only as her God cloth go before her ; now one step in this truth, and then another in that, according to the dispen- sation of God, and the light of day she lives in. As the cloud goes, so will she; and when the cloud Stays, SO will she. Be. xiv. 4 ; Ex. xl. 36-38. She comes in perfect rank and file, 'terrible as an army with banners. ' Ca. vi. 10. No Balaam can enchant her ; she comes 'out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, witli all spices2 of the merchants.' Ca. hi. 6. Still hours. This gave the enemies of true religion a pretext, which they eagerly seized, of charging these absurd notions upon all who feared God, and a severe persecution followed. To deprecate and counteract these reports, Bunyan is very esplicit in noting the difference between a spiritual and a tem- poral kingdom. — En. - ' Spices' is from the Genevan version; our authorized text has ' powders.' — Ed. THE NEW JERUSALEM. 411 'leaning upon her beloved.' Ca.\iii. c. The return of Zion from under the tyranny of her afflictors, and her recovery to her primitive purity, is no head- strong brain-sick rashness of her own, but the gracious and merciful hand and goodness of God unto her, therefrom to give her deliverance. 'For thus saith the Lord, That after seventy years be accomplished at Babylon (that is, the time of the reign of Antichrist, and his tyranny over his church) I will visit you, and perform my good ■word toward you, in causing you to return to this place.' Je. xxix. 10. 'Therefore they shall come and sing in the height of Zion, and shall flow together to the goodness of the Lord, for (spiritual) wheat, and for wine, and for oil, and for the young of the Hock and of the herd ; and their soul shall be as a watered garden ; and they shall not sorrow any more at all.' is. ML 11 ; Je. xxxi. 12. [SECOND. A Discovery of its Defence, Entrances, and Fashion in Particular.] Verse 12. 'And had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel.' These words do give us to understand, that this holy city is now built, and in all her parts com- plete, they give us also to understand the manner of her strength, he. ' And had a wall.' Having thus, I say, given us a description of this city in general, Of her defence. . . r . J ° he now descends to tier strength and frame in particular: her frame and strength, I say, as she is a city compact together: as also of her splendour and beauty. And observe it, that of all the particulars that you read of, touching the fence, fashion, or frame of this city, and of all her glory, the first thing that ho presenteth to our view is her safety and security; she 'had a wall.' A wall, you know, is for the safety, security, defence, and preserva- tion of a place, city, or town; therefore it is much to the purpose that in the first place after this general description, he should fall upon a dis- covery of her security and fortification; for what of all this glory and goodness, if there be no way to defend and preserve it in its high and glorious state? If a man had in his possession even moun- tains of pearl and golden mines, yet if he had not ■wherewith to secure and preserve them to himself, from those that with all their might endeavour to get them from him, he might not only quickly lose his treasure, and become a beggar, but also through the very fear of losing them, even lose the comfort of them, while yet in his possession. To speak nothing of the angels that fell, and of the glory that they then did lose, I may instance to you the state of Adam in his excellency ; Adam, you know, was once so rich and wealthy, that he had the garden of Eden, the paradise of pleasure, yea, and also the Avhole world to boot, for his in- heritance ; but mark, in all his glory, he was without a wall ; wherefore prcseutly, even at the very first assault of the adversary, he was not only worsted as touching his person and standing, but even stripped of all his treasure, his paradise taken from him, and he in a manner left so poor, that forthwith he was glad of an apron of fig- leaves to cover his nakedness, and to hide his shame from the face of the sun. Ge. m. 7. Where- fore, I say, John speaks to the purpose in saying she hud a wall; a wall for defence and safety, for security and preservation. Now then she shall lie no longer like blasted bones in an open field or valley ; that was her portion in the days of her affliction. Ezc. nxrii 1, 2. [77ie ivall ofllie city.] ' And had a wall.' It is said of old Jerusalem, that she had a wall and a wall, two walls for her defence and safety: Je.xxxix.4; Jc. m. 7; which two, in my judgment, did hold forth these two things. The one, their eternal preservation and security from the wrath of God, through the benefits of Christ ; and the other, that special protection and safeguard that the church hath always had from and by the special providence of her God in the midst of her enemies, Wherefore one of these is called by the proper name of salvation, which sal- vation I take in special to signify our fortification and safety from the wrath of God, and the curse and power of the law and sin. Is. xxvi. l ; Ac. iv. 12. The other is called, A wall of fire round about her ; and alludeth to the vision that the prophet's servant was made to see for his comfort, when he was put in fear, by reason of the great company of the enemies that were bending their force against the life of his master. Eze. ii. 5 ; 2 Ki. vi. it. But now in those days, though there were for the defence of the city those two walls, yet they stood a little distance each from other, Thc reason o{ and had a ditch between them, which two walls. was to signify that though then they had the wall of salvation about them, with reference to their eternal state, yet the wall of God's providence and special protection was not yet so nearly joined thereto but that they might, for their foolishness, have that broken down, aud they suffered to fall into the ditch that was between them both. is. xs& 10-12. And so he saith by the prophet, 'I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard (that is, to this city for the wickedness thereof), I will take away the hedge thereof, and it shall be eaten up ; and break down the wall thereof, and it shall be trodden down.' is. v. 5-7. Which hedge and wall 412 THE HOLY CITY, OR could not be that of eternal salvation, for that stood sure, though they should he scattered among the nations ' as wheat is sifted in a sieve.' Am. ir. o. It must therefore he the wall of her special pre- servation in her outward peace and happiness, which wall was often in those days hroken down, and they made havoc of, of all that dwelt ahout them. But now touching the safety of New Jerusalem, the city of which I here discourse, she is seen in Two wails made tne vision by John to have hut one one. on]y wa]] . to signify that at this day the wall of her eternal salvation, and of God's special providence to protect and defend her, in her present visible and gospel glory, shall be so effectually joined together, that now they shall be no more two, that is, at a distance, with a ditch between, but one sound and enclosing wall ; to show us that now the state of this Jerusalem, even touching her outward glory, peace, and tran- quillity, will be so stable, invincible, and lasting, that unless that part of the wall which is eternal salvation, can be broken down, the glory of this city shall never be vailed more. Wherefore the prophet, when he speaks with reference to the happy state and condition of this city, he saith, „ , ' Violence shall no more be heard in The reason why they both are thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders ; but thou shalt call thy walls salvation, and thy gates praise,' is.lx. 18; as he saith also in another place, 'Thine eye shall see Jerusalem a quiet habitation, a tabernacle that shall not be taken down, not one of the stakes thereof shall ever be removed, neither shall any of the cords thereof be broken.' is. xxxiii. 20. The walls are now conjoined, both joined into one ; the Father hath delivered up the great red dragon into the hand of Christ, who hath shut him up and sealed him down, even down for a thousand years. Re. xx. 1-3. Wherefore from the Lord shall there be ' upon every dwelling-place of Mount Zion, and upon her assemblies a cloud and smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night; for upon all her glory shall be a defence.' Is.iv. 5. And ' in that day shall this song be sung : We have a strong city, salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks.' is. xxvi. 1, 2. The same in effect hath our prophet John, saying 'I saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem,' descending out of heaven from God, 'prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, - The tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them : - and God him- self shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.' Re. xxi. 1-4. 'And had a wall great and high.' These words, great and high, are added for Thewaiiis great illustration, to set out the matter to and ^ the height ; and indeed the glory of a wall lieth in this, that it is great and high ; the walls of the Canaanites were terrible upon this account, and did even sink the hearts of those that beheld them. De. i. 28. Wherefore this city shall be most certainly in safety, she hath a wall about her, a great wall: a wall about her, an high wall. It is great for compass, it incloseth every saint ; it is great for thickness, it is compacted of all the grace and goodness of God, both spiritual and temporal; and for height, if you count from the utmost side to the utmost, then it is higher than heaven, who can storm it ? He. vii. 2G. and for depth, it is lower than hell, who can undermine it? Jobxi. s. Great mercies, high mercies, great preservation, and a high arm to defend, shall con- The i,eight 0f tinually at this day encamp this city : the waU" God himself will be a continual life-guard to this city; ' I will encamp,' saith he, ' about mine house, because of the army, because of him that passeth by, and because of him that returneth ; and no oppressor shall pass through them any more; for now have I seen with mine eyes.' zee. ix. s. \Tlxe gates of the city.] ' And had twelve gates.' Having thus showed us her wall, he now comes to her The gates of the gates; it had gates, it had twelve Clty- gates. By gates in this place we are to under- stand the way of entrance ; gates, you know, are for coming in, and for going out, Je. rvii. 19, 20 ; and do in this place signify two things. First, An entrance into communion with the God and Saviour of this city. Secondly, Entrance into what the gates communion with the inhabitants and srgnrfy- privileges of this city; in both which the gates do signify Christ: for as no man can come to the knowledge and enjoyment of the God, and glorious Saviour, but by and through the Lord Christ; so no man can come into true and spiritual com- munion with these inhabitants, but by him also: ' I am the way,' saith he, * and the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the Father but by me:' and again, ' I am the door, by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.' Jn. x. 1-9 ; xiv. 6. ' And had twelve gates.' In that he saith twelve gates, he alludeth to the city of Jerusalem that was of old, which had just so many, Ke. ffi. xii. 37-39; and are on pur- pose put into the number of twelve, to answer to the whole number of the elect of God, which are comprehended within the number of why twelve the twelve tribes, whether they are gates- natural Jews or Gentiles ; for as all the godly THE NEW JERUSALEM. 413 Jews are the seed of Abraham after the flesh, though not godly, because they are the children of the flesh of Abraham; so all the godly Gentiles are the children of Abraham after the spirit, though not by that means made the children of the flesh of Abraham. They both meet then in the spirit and faith of the gospel, as God saith to the Jews, 1 When a stranger shall sojourn with thee, and will keep the passover to the Lord,' that is, become godly, and receive the faith of Christ, let all his males be circumcised, and then let them come near, and beep it, «fcc. Ex. xii. 4S. For they that are of faith, are the children of faithful Abraham, who is called the very father of us all. Ga. ill. 7. iio. iv. lc. Thus you see all the godly come under the title of the children of Abraham, and of the Jews; and so under the denomination also of being The twelve gates Pcrsons belonging to the tribes, the do answer the twelve tribes, who answer to those twelve gates. Wherefore the Psalmist minding this, speaking indefinitely of all the godly, under the name of the tribes of Israel; saying, ' Our feet shall stand within thy gates, 0 Jerusa- lem. Jerusalem is builded as a city that is com- pact together, whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord.' Ps. cxxH. 2-4. But again, though I am certain that all the Gentiles that are at any time converted, are reckoned within the compass of some of the tribes of Israel, to which the gates of this city may truly be said to answer; yet the gates are here in a special manner called by the name of twelve, to answer to the happy return and restoration of those poor distressed creatures the twelve tribes of the Jews that are scattered abroad, and that are, and for a long time have been to our astonishment and their shame, as vagabonds and stragglers among the nations, Ho. ix. 17, there to continue ' many days, without a king, and without a prince, and without a sacrifice, and without an ephod.' Ho. an. That is, without the true God, the true Saviour, and the true word and ordinances ; after which, saith the same prophet, they shall even in the latter days, that is, when this city is builded, return and seek the Lord their God, and David their king, and shall then ' fear the Lord and his goodness.' Ho.m.5. This the apostle also affirmeth, when he telleth the believing Gentiles that blindness in part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gen- tiles be come in: which Israel in this place cannot by any means be taken for the Gentiles that are converted, for this Israel must be rejected until the bulk of the elect Gentiles be converted ; be- sides he callcth this Israel by the name of Israel, even while unconverted ; but the converted Gen- tiles still Gentiles, even when converted: he calls this Israel the natural branches, but the Gentiles wild branches; and tells us further, that when they are converted, they shall be grafted into their own olive tree ; but when the Gentiles arc con- verted, they must be cut off of their own stock and tree: read Ro. xi. throughout. Wherefore, I say, the gates are called twelve, to answer the.1-:,: poor creatures, who at this day shall be awakened, and enlightened, and converted to the faith of Jesus. These gates in another place are called a way, and these Jews, the kings of the east ; and it is there said also, tbat at present this way doth want preparing; Avhich is as much as to say this city wants setting up, and the gates want setting in their proper places. Wherefore, saith John, the sixth angel poured out his vial upon the great river Euphrates, that is, destroyed the strength and force of the Roman antichrist — for the river Euphrates was the fence of literal Babylon, the type of our spiritual one — which force and fence, when it is destroyed or dried up, then the way of the kings of the east will be prepared, or made ready for their journey to this Jerusalem. Re. xvi.12. Of this the prophets are full, crying, ' Cast ye up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take up the stumbling block out of the way of my people.' is. Mi. 14. And again, ' Go through, go through the gates, pre- pare ye the way of the people ; cast up, cast up the high way ; gather out the stones, lift up a standard for the people. Behold, the Lord hath proclaimed unto the end of the world, Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold thy salvation cometh; behold his reward is with him, and his work be- fore him. And they shall call them, The holy people, the redeemed of the Lord : and thou shalt be called, Sought out; A city not forsaken.' is. lxii. 10-12. All which doth most especially relate to the conversion of the Jews in the latter day, who in great abundance shall, when all things are made ready, come flocking in to the Son of God, and find favour, as in the days of old. \The angels at the gales, what they are.] * And at the gates twelve angels. ' By angels in this place, we are to understand The angels, aud the messengers and ministers of the what they aie* Lord Jesus, by whom the mystery of eternal life and felicity is held forth and discovered before the sons of men; and thus this word angel is fre- quently taken in this prophecy. Re. L 20 ; u. 1, 8, 12, 18; iii. 1. 7 ; xiv. C. ' And at the gates twelve angels ' — In these words, then, there are two things to be considered. First. Why they should be called twelve. And, Second. Why they are said to stand at the twelve gates of this new and holy city. First. They are called twelve, to signify two things. 1. The truth of their doc- ™>y *?d™^ trine. And, 2. The sufficiency of their twelve. 414 THE HOLY CITY, OR doctrine and ministry for the converting of the twelve tribes to the faith of Christ, and privileges of this city. 1. For the truth of their doctrine: for by twelve here he would have us to understand that he hath his eye upon the twelve apostles, or upon the doc- trine of the twelve, the apostolical doctrine. As if he should say, This city, the New Jerusalem, shall be every way accomplished with beauty and glory; she shall have a wall for her security, and twelve gates to answer the twelve tribes; yea, and also at these gates the twelve apostles, in their own pure, primitive, and unspotted doctrine. The Romish beasts have corrupted this doctrine by treading it down with their feet, and have muddied this water with their own dirt and filthiness.1 Eze. xxxiv. 17, is. But at this day, this shall be recovered from under the feet of these beasts, and cleansed also from their dirt, and be again in the same glory, splendour, and purity, as in the primitive times. It is said that when Israel was passed out of Egypt, beyond the sea, they presently came to Elim, where were twelve wells of water, &c, and that they encamped by the waters. Ex. xv. 27. Which twelve wells did figure forth the doctrine of the twelve apostles, out of which the church, at her return from captivity, shall draw and drink, as out of the wells of salvation. Now shall the wells of our father Abraham, which the Philistines have for a great while stopped ; now, I say, shall they again be opened by our Isaac, his son; and shall be also called after their own names. Ge.xxvi.is. This is generally held forth by the prophets, that yet again the church shall be fed upon the moun- tains of Israel, and that they ' shall lie down in a good fold, and a fat pasture;' yea, 'I will feed my flock, and I will cause them to lie down, saith the Lord God.' Eze. xxxiv. 14, 15. 2. As by these twelve we are to understand the truth and purity of the doctrine of the twelve, so again, by this word twelve, we are to understand the sufficiency of that doctrine and ministry to bring in the twelve tribes to the privileges of this city. Mark, for the twelve tribes there are twelve gates, for every tribe a gate ; and at the twelve gates, twelve angels, at every gate an angel. ' 0 Judah,' saith God, ' he hath set an harvest for thee, when I returned the captivity of thy people.' So. vi. 11. And so for the rest of the tribes ; before Ephraim and Benjamin, and Manasseh, he will stir up his strength to save them. p3. kxx. 2. • I will hiss for them,' saith God, ' and gather them, for 1 Referring to the attempts made in Bunyan's days to in- troduce Popery. It is admirably shown in the Pilgrim's Pro- gress, p. 193 — 'This is the spring that Christian drank of; then it was clear and good, hut now it is dirty with the feet of some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst.' — (Ed.) 1 have redeemed them ; and they shall increase as they have increased : and I will sow them among the people, and they shall remember me in far countries, and they shall live with their children, and return again ; I will bring them again also out of the land of Egypt, and gather them out of As- syria, and I will bring them into the land of Gilead and Lebanon, and place shall not he found for- th em.' Zee. x. s-10. [Second.] But to come to the second question, that is, Why these twelve angels are Why the twelve said to stand at the gates ? which may ^fh st^l be for divers reasons. satea. 1. To show us that the doctrine of the twelve is the doctrine that letteth in at these gates, and that also that shutteth out. ' Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted,' saith Christ, 'and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained.' Jn. xx. 23. Mat. xviii. is. And hence it is that the true ministers, in their right administration, are called porters ; because as porters stand at the gate, and there open to, or shut upon, those that make an attempt to enter in, Mar. xiii. 34 ; so the ministers of Christ, by the doctrine of the twelve, do both open to and shut the gates against the persons that will be attempting to enter in at the gates of this city. 2 Ch. xxiii. 19. 2. But again, they are said to stand at the gates for the encouraging and persuading of the tempted and doubting Jews, who at the beginning of their return will be much afflicted under the sight and sense of their own wretchedness. 'Alas! were it not for some to stand at the gates of this city for instruction, and the encouragement of those that will at that day in earnest be looking after life, they might labour as in other things for very, very vanity ; and might also be so grievously beat out of heart and spirit, that they might die in de- spair. But now to prevent this for those that are in the way to Zion with watery eyes, and wetted cheeks, here stand the angels, continually sounding with their golden gospel-trumpets, • Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise ; be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good, and his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endureth' for ever, even ' to all gen- erations.' Ps. c. 4, 5. As he saith again, 'And it shall come to pass in that day, tliat the great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come which were ready to perish in the laud of Assyria, and the outcasts in the land of Egypt, and shall wor- ship the Lord in the holy mount at Jerusalem.' Is. xxvii. 13. [TJie names written on the gates.] • And at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel. Thus it was in THE NEW JERUSALEM. 415 the vision of the prophet, when he was taking a view of the pattern of this city: ' And the gates of the city,' saith the angel to him, 'shall be after the names of the tribes of Israel.' Eze. xkiii. 31. Which saying John doth hero expound, saying, the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel were writ or set upon them. This being thus, it cleareth to you what I said but now, to wit, that the gates are called twelve, to answer the twelve tribes, for their names are written thereon. This must therefore, without all doubt, be a very great encouragement to this de- spised people ; I say great encouragement, that notwithstanding all their rebellion, blasphemy, and contempt of the glorious gospel, their names should be yet found recorded and engraved upon the very gates of New Jerusalem. Thus then shall the Jews be comforted in the latter days ; and truly they will have but need hereof ; for doubtless, at their return, when they are thoroughly sensible of the murder they have committed, not only upon the bodies of the prophets and apostles, but of the Son of God himself, I say this must needs, together with the remembrance of the rest of their villainous actions, exceedingly afflict and distress their bleed- ing souls. For ' the children of Israel shall come, they and the children of Judah together, going and weeping ; they shall go and seek the Lord their God. They shall ask the way to Zion, with their faces thitherward.' Je. 1. 4, 5. Mark, 'going and weeping;' there will not be a step that these poor people will take in the day of their returning, but will be watered with the tears of repentance and contrition, under the consideration of the wicked- ness that, in the days of their rebellion, they have committed against the Lord of glory. As he saith also by another prophet, ' I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jer- usalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications ; and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitter- ness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn. In that day shall there be a great mourning in Jerusalem, as the mourning of Hadad- rimmon in the valley of Megiddon, and the land shall mourn.' Zee. xii. 10-12. Wherefore, I say, they both have and also will have need of twelve gates, and on them the names of their twelve tribes, with an angel at each, to encourage them to enter this holy and goodly city; and to tell them that yet he counts them his friends in whose house he received the wounds in his hands. Zee xiii. G. But again, As by the names of the twelve tribes written on the gates, we may see what encourage- ment the Jews will have, at their return, to enter in at them ; so we may also understand that by the names of the twelve tribes here written, God would have us to perceive how all must be qualified that from among the Gentiles at this day do enter in at these gates; namely, those, and those only, that be cut out of their own wild olive tree, and transplanted among the children of Israel, into their good olive tree. Such as are Jews inwardlj , the Israel of God, according to the new creature, they shall enter, for the holy Gentiles also, by virtue of their conversion, are styled the children of Abraham, Jews, the chosen generation, the peculiar people, the holy nation ; and so are spirit- ually, though not naturally by carnal generation, of the twelve tribes whose names are written upon the gates of the city. Ga. m. 7. Ro. u. 28. 1 Ve. a. 9, 10. ' And it shall come to pass,' saith the prophet, 1 tloat in what tribe the stranger,' that is, the Gen- tile 'sojourneth, there shall ye give himhis inherit- ance, saith the Lord God.' Ezc. xivii. 23. Thus the Jews and Gentiles shall meet together in the spirit of the gospel, and so both become a righteous nation ; to both which the gates of this city shall stand continually open ; at which also they may with boldness demand, by the faith of the Lord Jesus, their entrance, both for communion with the God, grace, and privileges of this city, accord- ing to that which is written, ' Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in.' is. x-wi. 2. Thus much of the num- ber of the gates, and now to proceed to the order of them. [Tlie order of the gates.] Ver. 13. 'On the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates.' I shall not speak anything to the manner of his repeating of the quarters towards which the gates do look ; why he should be^in at the east, then to the north, afterwards crossing to the south, and last to the west ; though I do verily think that the Holy Ghost hath something to show us, wherefore he doth thus set them forth. And possibly he may set them thus, and the west last, not only because the west part of the world is that which always closeth the day, but to signify that the west, when Jerusalem is rebuilded, wdl be the last part of the world that will be converted, or the gate that will be last, because longest, occupied with the travels of the passengers and wayfaring men in their journey to this Jerusalem. But 1 pass that. From the order of their standing, I shall inquire into two things. Fird. Why the gates should look in this manner every way, both east, west, north, and south ? Second. Why there should bo three, just three, on every side of this city? 'On the east three, on the north three, on the south three, and on the west three.' 416 THE HOLY CITY, OR First. For the first, the gates by looking every Why the gates way, into all quarters, may signify to look" every way, us thus much, that God hath a people in every corner of the 'world. And also, that grace is to he carried out of these gates by the angels in their ministry into every place, to gather them home to him. As it is said of the living creatures, ' Whither the head looked they followed it, they turned not as they went,' Eze. x. U; so whithersoever the gates look, thither the ministers go, and carry the Word, to gather together the elect. He ' sent them two and two before his face, into every city and place whither he himself would Come.' Ln. x. 1. Mat. xxviii. 19. Jn. xi. 52. Again, the gates, by their thus looking every way, do signify to us, that from what quarter or part of the world soever men come for life, for those men there are the gates of life, even right before their doors. Come they from the east, why thither look the gates ; and so if they come from north, or west, or south. No man needs at all to go about to come at life, and peace, and rest. Let him come directly from sin to grace, from Satan to Jesus Christ, and from this world to New Jerusa- lem. The twelve brazen oxen that Solomon made to bear the molten sea, l EL vii. 23-25, they stood just as these gates stand, and signify, as I said before, that the doctrine of the twelve apostles should be carried into all the world, to convert — as in the primitive times, so now at the building of New Jerusalem — and to bring in God's sheep to the fold of his church. Now, I say, as the Word is carried every way, so the gates, the open gates, look also into all corners after them, to signify that loving reception that shall be given to every soul that from any corner of the whole world shall unfeignedly close in with grace, through the Lord Jesus Christ. Thus, therefore, men • shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.' Lu. xiii. 29. Ps. cvii. 1-3. [Second.] ' On the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates.' Having thus showed you in a word, why they stand thus looking into every corner or quarter of the world, I now come to show you why there must be just three looking in this manner every way. < 1. Then, there may be three looking every way, Why there is to signify that it is both by the con- gjgL f^y sent of the three persons in the Trinity, way. ° that the gospel should thus every way go forth to call men, and also to show you that both the Father, Son, and Spirit, are willing to receive and embrace the sinner, from whatsoever part or corner of the earth he cometh hither for life and safety. Come they from whence they will, the Father is willing to give them the Son, and so is the Son to give them himself, and so is the Spirit to give them its help against whatever may labour to hinder them while they are here. Jn. iii. 16. Re. xxi. G ; xxii. 17. 2. In that three of the gates look every way, it may be also to show us that there is none can enter into this city, but by the three offices of the Lord Jesus. Christ by his priestly office must wash away their sins ; and by his prophetical office he must illuminate, teach, guide, and refresh them ; and by his kingly office, rule over them and govern them with his Word. He. vii. 5. Jn. xiii. 8. Ac. iii. 22-24. Is. xl. 10, 11 ; ix. 6, 7. Ps.kxvi. 1—3; ex. 3. 3. Or, by three gates, may be signified the three states of the saints in this life ; an entrance into childhood, an entrance into a manly state, and an entrance into the state of a father of the church. 1 Jn. ii. 12-14. Or, lastly, the three gates may sig- nify the three-fold state we pass through from nature to glory ; the state of grace in this life, the state of felicity in paradise, and our state in glory after the resurrection : or thus, the state of grace that possesseth body and soul in this life, the state of glory that possesseth the soul at death, and the state of glory that both body and soul shall be possessed with at the coming of the Lord and Saviour. This was figured forth by the order of the stairs in the temple at Jerusalem, which was first, second, and third, by which men ascended from the lowest to the uppermost room in the house of God ; as he tells us, ' They went up with winding stairs ' from the first into the second story, and from thence by them into the third. 1 KL vi. s. Thus much for the wall and gates of New Jeru- salem. [Tlie foundations of the wall.] Ver. 14. • And the wall of this city had twelve foundations, and in them the names The foundations of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.' °f bewail In these words we have two things considerable : — First. That the city-wall hath twelve foundations. Second. That in these twelve are the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. First. It hath twelve foundations. This argueth invincible strength and support. That wall that hath but one foundation, how strongly doth it stand, if it be but safely laid upon a rock, even so strongly that neither wind nor weather, in their greatest vehemency, are able to shake or stir it to make it fall. But I say, how much more when a city hath foundations, twelve foundations, and those also laid by God himself; as it is said concerning the worthies of old, they ' looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.' He. xi. 10. • And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of THE NEW JERUSALEM 417 the Lamb.' The wall, you know, I told you, is the wall of salvation, or the safety of the church by Jesus Christ, to which is adjoined, as the effect of that, the special providence and protection of God. Now this wall, saith the Holy Ghost, hath twelve foundations, to wit, to bear it up for the continuation of the safety and security of those that are the inhabitants of this city ; a foundation is that which beareth up all, and that upon which the stress of all must lie and abide. Now, to speak properly, the foundation of our happiness is but one, and that one none hut the Lord Jesus ; 1 For other foundation can no man lay, than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.' l Co. in. 11. So then, when he saith the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and that in them also are written the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb, he doth not mean that this wall had twelve Christs for its .. . .. , , . support, but that the doctrine of the It is the doctrine x \ . of the twelve a- twelve apostles is that doctrine upon upS the walls" of which both Christ, and grace, and la^enf ew Jeru" a^ happiness staudeth firm and sure for ever. And to signify also, that neither Christ nor any of his benefits can be profitable unto thee, unless thou receive him alone upon the terms that they do hold him forth and offer him to sinners in their word and doctrine. If ' we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you,' saith Paul, 'than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you, than that ye have received, let him be accursed.' Ga. i. 8, 9. [Second.] 'And in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.' ' And in them their names. ' This makes it manifest that by the found- ations of this wall, we are to understand the doc- trine of the twelve apostles of the Lord Christ, for their names are to it, or found engraved in the foundations. Thus it was with the doctrine which was the foundation of the Jewish church ; the first pattern being delivered by the man Moses, his name was always so entailed to that doctrine, that at last it became common, and that by Divine allowance, to call that doctrine by the name of Moses himself. ' There is one that accuseth you, ' saith Christ, ' even Moses in whom ye trust.' Jn. v. 45. And again, ' For Moses of old hath in every city them that preach him.' Ac. xv. 21. The same liberty of speech doth the Holy Ghost here use in speaking of the foundations of this wall, which is the doc- trine of the twelve. And in that he calleth the doctrine by the name of foundations, and leaveth it only with telling us the names of the twelve apostles are engraven in it; he expects that men should be wise that read him, and that they should be skilful in the word of righteous- VOL. III. ness, if they come up clearly to the understanding of him. ' And in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.' Thus you see that the twelve apostles, above all the servants of Christ, arc here owned The doctrine of to be the foundations of this wall ; and j,^"^1^ good reason, for they, above all other, othcr- are most clear and full in the doctrine of grace, and all doctrines pertaining to life and holiness. •In other ages,' saith Paul, it ' was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed to the holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.' EP. iii. 5. Moses was not fit for this, for his was a more dark and veiled administration ; while Moses is read, the veil is over the heart, said Paul. 2 Cor. iii. 13-15. Neither was any of the prophets fit for this, for they were all inferior to Moses, and were, as it were, his scholars. Nu. xii. c, 7. Nay, John the Baptist is here shut out ; — for the ' least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.' Mat. xi. n. The apostles, above all other, were the men that were with the Lord Jesus all the time, from the baptism of John, even until the time he was taken up into heaven; they saw him, heard him, and discoursed with him, and were beholders of all the wondrous works that he did ; they did eat and drink with him after his passion, and saw, after he was risen, the print of the nails, and the spear with which he was pierced, when he died for our sins. Lu. xxiv. 39, 40. And because they had seen, felt, and at such a rate experienced all things The twelve went from the very first, both touching his JPS^egS doctrine, miracles, and life, therefore ence- he said unto them in chief, Ye shall be witnesses unto me, both in Jerusalem and all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the utmost parts of the earth. Ac. i. 8, 21 ; xiii. 31; x. 39; li. 32. 1 Jn. i. 1—3. Further, The apostles were in that marvellous manner endued with the Holy Ghost, that they out-stript all the prophets that ever went before them ; neither can I believe that in the best of times there should be any beyond them ; yet if it should so fall out that a dispensation should come in which they should have, as to the pouring forth of the Spirit, their equals, yet it could not follow, that therefore the gospel should be offered in other terms than they at first have offered it, especially besides what hath been said of them, if you con- sider to them it was said, ' Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven.' Mat. xvm. is. They, as to their doctrine, were infallible, it was impossible they _. , ... » .,,.-, The foundation should err; he that despised their doc- may not heal- trine, despised God himself. Besides, they have given in commandment that all should write after their copy, and that we should judgo 53 41 S THE HOLY CITY, OR both men and angels that did, or would do other- wise. 1 Th. iii. S. Ga. i. S. Timothy must have his rule from Paul, and so must holy Titus. All which, if we consider it, the Holy Ghost speaks to the purpose, in saying that in the twelve foundations are found the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. They are called the chief, and such as have laid the foundation, and others build thereon, and that as no men have laid the foundation but they, so none can lay even that foundation otherwise than they afore have laid it. 1 Cor. xii. 28. Ep. iv. 11, 12. 1 Cor. iii. 6-11. He. vi. 1-3. [Consideration from these ivords.] ' Aud in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.' These words, then, teach us two things worthy of our Christian consideration. First. That God hath given to every man a certain and visible mark to aim at for his salva- tion, or to build his soul upon, namely, the doc- trine of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. For in that he saith their names are in the foundations, it is better for us, all things considered, than if he had said in them was the name of God himself; that is, it is more easy to see this way, through the mist of our carnality, what the mystery of his will should be, which is, that we receive Christ The names of the according to their doctrine, words, broad6 seals ' of writings, epistles, letters, > " preacher now them are found the names of the allowed bat be twelve apostles of the Lamb, he doth the do" implicitly exclude all other, of what- tlietudvt- ever tribe they pretend themselves. It shall not be then as now, a Popish doctrine, a Quaker's doctrine, a prclatieal doctrine, and the Presbyter, Independent, and Anabaptist,1 thus distinguished, and thus confounding and destroying. But the doctrine shall be one, and that one the doctrine, where you find the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. 'If any man teach otherwise, and con- sent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the doctrine that is according to godliness, he is proud, knowing- nothing.' 1 Ti. vi. 3, 4. Thus you see the doctrine of the twelve is that which lettcth souls into this city ; and that the same doctrine is the doctrine that keepeth up the wall of their salvation about them, when they arc entered in within the gates. \Tlie measuring line, or golden reed: wJud it is.] Ver. 15. ' And he that talked with me had a golden reed to measure the city, and the gates thereof, and the wall thereof. ' Now, having passed the relation of the wall, gates, and foundations, he comes to the A s-c ; Ac. v. 1-3 ; Ep. vi. ii ; 2 Cor. ii. 7, ii. Wherefore, I say, that at the day that this wall is set up in all its glory, and when it performs every part and piece of its office to the full, then shall Satan be bruised under our feet indeed, and then shall Jerusalem be called the joyous city, and her people a joy; for her former sorrows shall be past and forgot. Ho. xvi. 20 ; He. xxi. 4. If thou still objectest: But I have yet an evil heart, and therefore if I be not rid of that at that . day, should I live till then, why though Objection. , i i i , ., J "uuoxi there should be no devil to afflict me, I shall feel and meet, with sorrow and trouble enough. I answer thee : First, I dare not say that at this day thou shalt be in every sense without thy evil heart in the midst of all this glory, tempted soul. Yet I say thus much to thee — First. Where there is no devil to tempt, though the saints will }ret be imperfect, and The benefit of come short of a glorified state, yet fiSfft ft they, by his absence, will be delivered "S- from many dreadful, vexing, and burning, and hellish darts, that will otherwise confound and afflict the soul like arrows whose heads are poisoned. Chris- tians have a great deal of ease, when God doth, even at this day, withhold the devil for a season, though yet they have their own lusts, over they have when the devil and their own lusts are suffered to meet and work together. Yea, the Lord Jesus himself, who had no sin, yet in the temptation was fearfully handled and afflieted with the devil, though all the while, I say, he kept him at staves end,1 and did not suffer him in the least to annoy his person; and therefore it is said that when he was in the wilderness, in the conflict, the angels came to minister to him. Mar. i. 12, 13. Col. ii. 14, 15. At the time of his agony also — in which agony, doubtless, Satan had a great hand to afflict him — you see his complaint, how that he was sore amazed, and exceeding sorrowful, even unto death, being so laden with heaviness and sorrow that he was scarce able to stand or wag under the burden of it. Ln. xxiii. 44. Mar. xiv. 33, 34. Satan, even from him- self, besides the workings of our own lust, doth do us wonderful injury, and hits our souls with many a fiery dart that we think comes either from our- selves, or from heaven, and God himself; but now by this wall, this broad wall, this sorrow will be cut off.- Secondly. Again, when Satan is thus tied up, we shall, together with this mercy, receive such a plentiful pouring forth of the Holy Ghost, that though there will remain in us still Covruptions shall remainders of our corruptions, yet, HwaWbegnafr by the plentiful indwelling of the 3 w ' Holy Ghost, and the joy and peace and heavenly sweetness thereof, these things shall lie like lean, withered, blasted things. The reason of that power and that strength, that our lusts have to this day in our hearts, it is because they are so lean, and thin, and weak in the things of God. Strong grace makes corruptions weak, and strikes them thorough, laying them at the point of death, always gasping for life. Thus it was with Moses, he had such grace in his soul, and such communion with God, that though he had yet a body of sin within him, it was a rare thing for him to see his wretchedness ; Xu. xi. 14, 15; that is, to sec it pert, lively, and powerful in him. Indeed God saith, that upon the land of his people shall come up briars and 1 This is an allusion to the ancient English pastime of comhat, called quarterstaff. — (Ed.) THE NEW JERUSALEM. 427 thorns ; ' yea, upon all the houses of joy in the joyous city ; hecause the palaces shall be forsaken, the multitude of the city shall bo left, the forts and towers shall be for dens for ever, a joy of wild asses, a pasture of flocks; until the Spirit be poured upon us from ou high, and the wilderness be a fruitful field,' &c. fc.xaoii.B-*. And then 'the Lord shall defend the inhabitants of Jerusa- lem, and he that is feeble among- them at that day shall be as David, and the house of David shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord before them.' Zee. xii. s. ' The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick; the people that dwell therein shall be forgiven their iniquity.' fc. xaSL U. ' And he measured the wall thci'eof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel.' 'According to the measure of a man.' The man Christ Jesus. For the measure of this city, or the golden reed with which this city is thus measured, it is his, his word and law of the New Testament. All judgment is committed into the hand of the Son ; and God ' hath given him authority to execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man.' Jn. v. 27 ; xii. 48. 1 According to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel.' This angel is one of the seven that had the seven last plagues to execute upon the man of sin, Re. xxi. 9, and yet he saith the measure is accordiug to the measure of a man ; the meaning is that the city, the New Jerusalem, is to be built according to the word of Christ ; but yet by his word as it is in the hand of his angels, that is, his messengers and servants ; of which servants, the chief will be those that are his instruments to pour forth the seven vials full of the seven last plagues upon the Antichristian harlot. For they, with their plagues, will both destroy what standeth in implacable opposition, and will subject the rest, and bring them into a correspondency with the word and will of God, as I have showed. Whence note, that they of his servants that God shall use to pour forth his last and most dreadful plagues upon the whore, they are they that God will use to show us the pattern of this holy city. Or thus, they that can tell how to plague the whore, they can tell how to measure this city. ' The righteous men, they shall judge them,' that is, the Anti- christian harlot, witli her wicked and adulterous daughters, ' after the maimer of adulteresses, aud after the manner of women that shed blood; be- cause they arc adulteresses, and blood is in their hands.' Eze. iiia. 45. Thus much touching the frame of this city, its walls, gates, and foundations, with the measure of each. And now it remains that I speak of the glory of them. [THIRD. A RELATION' OF THE GLORY OF THE CITY, ITS WALLS, GATES, AND FOUNDATION'S.] Ver. ] S. ' And the building of the Avail of it was of jasper; and the city vns pure gold, like unto clear glass.' [Tlic glory of the toalls.] In these words you have a discovery cf the glory, both of the wall and city itself; The glory of the and that, as you see, under the notion u',lls- of two choice metaphors. The wall is jasper, the chief of stones ; and the city is gold, the chief of metals. * And the building of the wall of it was of jasper, and the city was pure gold.' This jasper is that stone, in the light of which this city is said to descend, as in the light of a stone most precious. Now, as there he saith she descended in the light of this stone, so here he saith this stone is the wall thereof. ■ And the building of the wall of it was of jasper.' This therefore confirmeth unto you what I said of the wall before, to wit, that -it was the salvation of God through Christ; wherefore, learn this by the way, that this city shall not be at this day in her own keeping, but in the keeping of Jesus Christ. He with his benefits doth compass her round, and by him alone she lieth down in safety. Where- fore it is from this consideration that God doth say by the mouth of the prophet, I will give them within my house, and within my walls, ' a place and a name better than that of sons and of daughters ; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off. ' Is. Ivi. 5. ' And the building of the wall,' <5:c. By this word building, we are to understand both the materials of the wall, the manner of their placing, and the instruments that God will use for the set- ting up thereof. Now, to speak properly, this wall being the Lord Jesus Christ himself in his precious merits, benefits, and offices, the builder hereof must needs be God himself, for he it is that hath made this Christ for us a safeguard and defence, by making of him our wisdom, righteous- ness, sanctification, and redemption, by which he doth encompass us round on every side, and that at every moment to deliver us from the power and destruction both of sin, death, the devil, and hell. 1 Cor. i. 00. He. xi. 10 ; iii. 4. But again, the building here spoken of is a building of this wall after the destruction of Anti- christ, and so long after Christ was sent, and made these things in his own person, to his beloved and blessed church. Wherefore the build- The building of ing of this wall that is here spoken of, it must be understood of the recovering again tho purity of those doctrines, in which the Lord Jesus, with all his benefits, is found and made ours, for 428 THE HOLY CITY, OR our everlasting defence and safety. For we find that the king of Babylon, who was a type of our Antichrist, when he came up against Jerusalem, the type of our primitive church, he brake down their city, destroyed their walls, rifled their houses, and killed their children ; whose steps, I say, our Antichrist follows to a hair, in treading down the primitive church, corrupting her doctrines — which are her safeguard and wall — also robbing and spoiling the houses of God, and killing his chil- dren with a thousand calamities ; turning all the heavenly frame and order of church government into a heap of rubbish, and a confused dunghill. Ps. lxxiv. 4—7. Wherefore the building again of this wall is to be understood of the recovering, and settling, and fastening the doctrines of Christ, as afore, in which doctrines lie in all his benefits is wrapped and held fast for ever. I say, a recovering of them, and setting him up again in his primitive and pure glory, of being our priest, prophet, and king in his church, and a giving unto these offices their own proper length, breadth, height, and depth, letting them rule in all their force, glory, and majesty, and authority, for then will be golden days, and not till then; then, I say, when the several offices of the Lord Jesus do rule in their own nature and largeness of authority, both in the church and in the world. Zee. ix. i, s ; xiv. 9. Re. xi. 15. Alas ! this wall is yet unbuilt, the offices of the Lord Jesus do not yet shine in that purity, nor so stand in their proper places as they shall do at the coming in of New Jerusalem. The wall lies yet but as a heap of rubbish ; the offices of the Lord Christ are to this day by many preachers con- founded, and removed to and fro, even like loose and rolling stones. These offices, also, are by others attributed to Antichrist, and his children of iniquity ; but at this day the nations shall know themselves to be but men, and the doctrines of Christ shall be set again in their own places. Eze.xxviii. 2, 3. 2 Th. a. 4. Now shall every going into this city, and every The names and £°"lug out thereof, stand where it t3Suf& ou°llt ' and no,v shaU eveiT tower theunversofthis and fortress on this wall be placed as in the days of old ; which towers and fortresses are the glorious names and attributes of the Father and Christ; for the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous flee into it, and are safe. And again, thou hast been a shelter to me, and a strong tower from the enemy. Where- fore now, I say, shall the name of God, as Lord of all, and Father of his church, with the names of the Son, as Head, Saviour, and King of kino-s, be as the bulwarks to this city, Ca. i. 10. to which shall be added all the promises, consolations, encourage- ments, ut the foundation of the temple of the Lord was not yet laid.' Ear. m. i-c. These altar-nicn were those also that after- ward built the temple ; hut yet by them was first of all repaired the altar, to signify that the first What altar- work that will be on foot at the begin- work is. tang 0f t]ie retum of the Christians from out of Antichristian Babylon, it will be to find out altar-work, that is, the priestly office of Christ, and to offer by him the prayers and supplications of the church continually. Ac. xbt 9. Wherefore these altar-men, or these men in their altar-work, did figure out for us our famous and holy worthies, that before us have risen up in their place, and shook off those relics of Antichrist that intrenched upon the priestly office of our Lord and Saviour, even worthy Wickliff, Huss, Luther, Melancthon, Calvin, and the blessed martyrs in Queen Mary's days, etc., with the rest of their companions. These, in their days, were stout and valiant cham- pions for God according to their light, and did upon the altar of God, which is Christ our Lord, offer up many strong cries, with groans and tears, as every day required, for the complete recovering of the church of God ; the benefit of whose offering we have felt and enjoyed to this day ; but by this the foundation of the temple was not yet laid. Ezr. iii. 6. Now after these arise another people, not an- other with respect to Christianity, but with respect to further light.1 These men, though they keep the continual offerings upon the altar, as the other did, yet they are men also that are for temple- work ; wherefore these begin to search out the foundations of the temple of God, that they may rear up the house, as well as build up the altar. These be they that are for having the church a select company of visible believers, walking in the faith and holiness of the gospel, which believers are for separating from the unconverted and open profane, and for building up one another an holy temple in the Lord, through the Spirit, l Co. xh\ 13. 1 say, a temple, or house, or church, separate and distinct from that confused heap of rubbish and carnal gospellers that everywhere, like locusts and maggots, crawl up and down the nations. Ro. i. 7. 2 Co. Ti. 14-16. Ac. ii. 40. Ep. ii. 21, 22. 1 Co. v. 11-13. These were figured forth by Zerubbabel, Joshua, and all 1 Bunyan most accurately traces the pedigree of God's fearers, who, at the expense of life, maintained the spirituality of Divine worship. He commences with our early Reformers, Wickliff and Huss, to the later ones who suffered under Mary; continues the line of descent through the Puritans to Bunyan's brethren, the Nonconformists. All these were bitterly perse- cuted by the two lions — Church and State. The carnal gos- pellers, that confused heap of rubbish that crawled up and down the nation like locusts and maggots, refers to the mem- bers of a hierarchy which were ready to go from Popery to Protestantism, and back again to Popery, or to any other sys- tem, at the bidding of an Act of Parliament. — (Ed.) the people of the land that are for working and labouring in this service of temple-work. Hog. L 12; ii. 1-5. Again, As there is thus altar-work and temple- work to be done by the saints when they are coming out of spiritual Sodom and Egypt ; so, at the end of these, there will bo city-work on foot also. Which city-work will chiefly consist in setting up the wall and gates for defence, and of building themselves houses or mansions of rest and refresh- ment after all their hard usage under the tyranny of the man of sin, that son of perdition, is. Uv. 19-21. Which city work will be then completed, when the church of Christ hath obtained a complete conquest and victory over the world, and hath got her ene- mies and them that hate her, to lie at her feet, and to lick the dust of tho soles thereof, is. lx. 14 For, as I have told you already, temple-work, yea, when that is complete in the work, yet there may be great havoc made of the church of Christ. Re. xi. 1—3. At which time also, city-work may be trampled under the feet of the wicked and uncir- cumcised Gentiles ; but when the city is built, then 1 Zion is become a stronghold, and about all her glory shall be a defence, is. iv. 5. Then she cither draweth and allure th her adversaries to entreat her kindly, and to count it their honour to be under her protection, as did the Gibeonites ; or else she breaks, and bruises, and subjects them to her by her power and authority. Jos. ix. ' The daughter of Tyre shall be there with a gift, even the rich among the people shall entreat thy favour.' Ps. xiv. 12. ' In the last days,' saith the prophet, ' it shall come to pass, that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established in the top of the moun- tains, and it shall be exalted above the hills ; and people shall flow unto it. And many nations shall come and say, - Let us go up unto the mouutain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob, and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths : for the law shall go forth of Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off; and they shall beat their swords into plough-shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks;' that force and power that they used formerly to destroy the church of God, now they shall use it to do her service, even to break up the clods of the hearts of sinners, and to prune and dress the house of God, and vineyard of Jesus Christ ; ' nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore;' for the word of the kingdom of peace shall bear sway. 1 And thou, 0 tower of the flock, the stronghold of the daughter of Zion, unto thee shall it come, even the first dominion ; the kingdom shall come to the daughter of Jerusalem.' Mi. iv. 1-3, 8. This is city- work, and as to the glory, peace, and deliverance 430 THE HOLY CUT, OK of the church, it is the chiefest of all other, because it is not only most excellent for concourse and multitude, hut, I say, for preservation and safety ; and that not only to keep the worshippers, if they keep their order, hut to keep the order and wor- shippers both in order and continual safety, that they may be for ever in the purest order. But now, though at the completing of this wall, and the building its towers, when they are finished there will be great peace ; yet all the time that these things are doing, before they be done, let the workmen look for opposition, taunts, underminers, and a thousand tricks for the hinderance of it. Be. iv. i-ii ; vi. l-H. For the streets of the city shall be built, and the wall, 'even in troublous times.' Da. ix. 25. ' And the building of the wall of it was of jasper.' Of jasper only; for as by building is showed unto us the manner of the work, so by jasper is showed unto us the matter itself; the matter therefore must be, jasper, Christ only, his AVord, offices, and glorious brightness only ; for indeed, whatever the special grace, protection, and providence of God will at this day be over this city, yet it shall be every whit of it according to Christ ; that is, both of him, for him, and by him, as the fruits and effects of his suffering, bloodshed, and merits. 'Therefore,' saith God, 'will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong ; because he hath poured out his soul unto death : and was numbered with the transgressors. ' is. Hi. 12. 0 holiness, how will it shine both in kings and nations, when God doth this! [Tlie glory of the city.'] * And the city was pure gold.' Having thus The glory of the given us a discovery of the glory of the CIty- wall, he now comes to show us the glory of the city that is within the wall. The city, saith he, is gold, it is pure gold. This was figured out by the golden candlesticks belonging to the tabernacle and temple among the Jews, which candlesticks did then present unto us the worth and use of the church of Christ. Ex. xxv, 31-36. ' The seven candlesticks are the seven churches,' saith the Lord Christ himself. Re. i. 20. Now the city here spoken of is the church in her highest and greatest glory. Its state was also figured out by the temple itself, whose beams, posts, walls, doors, and the like, were most famously covered over with gold. 2 Ch. Hi. 5-7. It was also, though but leanly, represented to us by the golden state of old Jeru- salem in the days of Solomon the king, in which state gold was so plentiful in the midst thereof, that silver was nothing counted of among the citizens there in those days, but was as common as the stones in the street of the city. 2ci1.ix.13— 22,27. ■ And the city icas pure gold.' I find by the search of the Scriptures, that there are divers sorts of gold in the world ; there is the gold of the land of Havilah, Ge. ii. 11 ; the gold of Parvaim, 2 Ch. iii. C ; the gold of Ophir, Joh xxii. 24 ; the gold of Sheba, Fs. lssH. 15 ; and the gold of Uphaz. Je. x. 3: Now seeing he saith the city is gold, yet not dis- tinguishing what gold, or which, we may suppose in this place he means gold of all these sorts; and jndeed it is most agreeable to this text thus to judges. For the church at this day shall be made up of the twelve tribes that are scattered abroad, and of the Gentile nations both far and near; who, as they now lie, are, for ought I can learn, at as great a distance, and as remote from one another, not only in knowledge and affections, but touching the places of their abode, as are the golden mines out of which the gold that I spake of before is digged and fetched. Thus shall gold, the golden saints of God, at this day be gathered out of the several golden mines of the world, and be brought to King Solomon, the Son of David, our Lord Jesus, to Jerusalem, with which he will build him a golden shining city, the joy of all the world. ' And the city was pure gold.' Gold is the choice and chief of all metals, both for worth, colour, and virtue; wherefore, when he saith, ' The city is gold,' you may conceive how rich and shining, and virtuous1 this city will be ; the riches of the whole world will be here, the beauty of the whole world will be here, and the virtue1 of the whole world will be here ; I mean spiritual riches, beauty, and health. Wherefore the rest of the world at this day will be but as a crushed hunch of herbs in which is no virtue ; x or like a furnace full of dross, out of which the gold is taken ; or like an old, crazy, and ruinous house, from which is departed all health and happiness ; and indeed much like to this is that saying of the prophet, to wit, that at this day the whole circumference of the world that is without the walls and privileges of this city, it shall be but like an old ruinous house, in which dwells nothing but cormorants, bitterns, owls, ravens, dragons, satyrs, the screech- owl, the great owl, the vulture, and the like most doleful birds. All their princes shall be nothing, saith the prophet, and when they call their nobles to the kingdom, none shall be there. In their very palaces shall be thorns, and nettles, and brambles ; for all among them that are princes and nobles indeed, will have packed up, and be gone for Jeru- salem, is. xxxiv. 10-17. So that the world, I say, will be left empty, void, and stripped both of treasure, beauty, and health, at the day of Jerusalem's building again. But 0 how melancholy a forlorn, beautiless world will this be at this day! It will 1 'Virtue;' strength, efficacy, power. — (Ed.) THE NEW JERUSALEM. 431 be only the place of ' clogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever lovcth and makcth a lie.' IU. xxii. 1.1. It will now be the very emblem of hell, as the church at this day will be the emblem of heaven. Where- fore, as the church, as I showed you before, will be most fit for her putting on of immortality and incorruption, so the world will at this day he most fit to be swallowed up of the lake and bottomless gulf. All things that are good and worth anything shall at this clay be found only in the city of God. The gold will be in Jerusalem. Bra xiv. M Ke. win. Again, In that this city is here called by the Dame of gold it is to show us how great pains, and travel, and charge the Lord Christ hath been at to get so great a treasure together. Gold is fetched from a far country, and that with great pains, charge, and difficulty. 2ck.ix.10. The gold wherewith King Solomon made his drinking vessels, it cost a three years' journey to obtain it. So the saints also, those golden vessels wdierewith is made this golden city, they cost Christ a three days' travel in the beart of the earth, even sweatingly under the wrath of God, to obtain them, and thus to build this city with them. Lu. xxii. 44. Mar. xii. 40. Further, In that he saith this city is gold, he would have ns to consider what the state of the church was before she came into this happy con- dition, to wit, an afflicted, tempted, and tried con- dition. Gold, as it comes from the mine, it cometh commixed with its dust and ore; wherefore the goldsmith hath a burning furnace wherein he hav- ing put it, doth with the fire purge and take away the dross and dust from among the metal itself; into which furnace he puts it once, twice, thrice, and again to the end it may at length be thoroughly cleansed and purified from its dross. ISow all this befalleth the people of God; they are thrown into the burning fiery furnace of affliction and tempta- tion, and there they are tried, purged, and purified. Is. xxxi. o. As the Lord also saith by the prophet, 1 1 will try them as gold is tried, and will refine them as silver is refined.' Zee. xiii. o. Yea, ' I will melt them and try them, for how shall I do for the daughter of my people.' Je. ix. i. Lastly, When he saith this city is gold, he also thereby insinuates how invincible and unconquer- able a spirit the people of God are possessed with. Gold is a metal so invincible and unconquerable, that no fire can consume it; it may burn it indeed, and melt it ; the dross indeed doth consume and give wray to the power of the fire, but the gold re- mains, and holds its ground ; yea, it gets ground even of the furnace and fire itself; for the more it is burned and melted, the more it recovers its colour, and the more it shakes off its dross and dishonour. Just thus it is with the people of God, and hath been so even from the beginning: the more they oppressed them, the more they grew. Ex. i. IS The truth of which v. ill be proved with a witness, when God comes to set up this city Jerusalem: his church hath been now for many hundred years in the king of Babylon's furnace; all which time she bath most gloriously endured and withstood the heat ; and at last when the fire bath done its worst against her, behold there comes out a city of gold. A type of which was the state of the three children, who though they were cast into the lire bound and in disgrace ; yet came out in the liberty and grace of the Son of God. Da. iii. 2J— 2G. Wherefore let her be bold to say, even before she comes out of the fire, When I am tried, ' I .-hall come forth as gold.' Job xxiii. 10. 'And the city was PURE gold.' These words, pure gold, clear up what I said already. Pure gold, or gold upon which the fire hath clone its work. The church in the fire of persecution is like Esther in the perfuming chamber, but making fit for the presence of the king ; which fire, when it hath clone its work, then she comes into his presence in clothing all of gold. Bb. ii. 10. ' The king's daughter is all glorious within, her clothing is of wrought gold.' And again, * At thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.' Ps. xlv. o, 13. Wherefore he means by pure gold, gold out of the fire, gold on which the fire of persecution and temptation hath clone its fidl and complete work. ' And the city teas pure gold, like unto clear glass.' By glass, in this place, we are to under- stand the Word of God, as both James and Paul do testify. Ja. i. 22—25. 2 Co. iii. is. l Co. xiii. 12. By clear glass then, we are to understand the Word in its own nature and purity, without the corruptions and traditions of men. Wherefore, when he saith this golden city was like unto clear glass, it is as if he had said she is even with the Word and law of her goldsmith, in all her matters. The Word is a golden reed, this city a golden city; and that, a golden city, taken out of the furnace of affliction, and therefore like to the golden reed. ' And the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass.5 [The glory of 'the foundations. ,] Yer. 19, 20. 'And the foundations of the wall icere garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper ; the second, sapphire ; the third, a chalcedony ; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardiu3; the seventh, chrysolite ; the eighth, beryl ; the ninth, a topaz ; the tenth, a cbrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst.' Thus having showed us the glory of the wall, and of the city, he now comes to show The giorv of tbc us the glory of the foundations. The 6™"**** foundations you know, I told you before, they arc 432 THE HOLY CITY, OR the twelve apostles in their doctrine, or the primi- tive doctrine of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. Now the great business in this place will be to show you the garnishing of these foundations, and also the mystery and order of the lying of the foundations, for their glory lieth in both. As for the garnishing of these foundations, it is, The glory of the and wiU be at the da7 °f NeW JerU" foundationa salem, two-fold, and the first is with beautiful gifts and grace. Thus were the apostles of old adorned, and thus shall their doctrine again be garnished. I know that the doctrine of the twelve hath been always accom- panied with goodly gifts and grace, from the first churches quite down, that is, according to the measure of light they appeared in, and according to the dispensations of God in the times of anti- christ. But yet the glory that this doctrine had in these latter days, I mean since the apostacy, it Avas nothing in comparison of the glory and splen- dour that will be in them in the day when this city is built and complete. Wherefore you find, that though all along in antichrist's reign, the gospel of grace hath shone, and given light to the saints and people of God in all their travels and The gospel dark- afflictions; yet the shining of it at that smoke of auti- day was much opposed and eclipsed christ. by the smoke of the bottomless pit: as he saith, ' There arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace, and the sun and the air were darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit. ' Re. ix. 2. In which days, I say, abundance of the light, heat, and operation of the gospel was diminished and taken off, so that but little of the power or glory of it hath been either felt or seen from that time to this very day. This is that God spake of by the prophet Amos, saying, • I will cause the sun to go down at noou, and I will darken the earth in the clear day; and I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation ; and I will bring up sackcloth upon all loins, and baldness upon every head ; and I will make it as the mourning of an only son, and the end thereof as a bitter day.' All which he explaineth in the next words, for « Behold the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a fa- mine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord ; and they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east ; they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it.' Am. viii. 9-12. In those days Eli's sons were become varlets. 1 Sa. ii. 12—15. Indeed there was here and there a little child, like Samuel in his minority, that now and then woidd speak most goodly things. But ' the word of the Lord was precious in those days, there was no open vision.' l Sa, in. 1. This is that which David in the Spirit of prophecy complaineth of, saying, ' They know not, neither will they understand; they walk on in darkness: all the foundations of the earth are out of course.' Ps. lxxxii. 5. Thus in the days of the eclipsing of the glory of these foundations. But now, behold, they recover their light, and put on, as of old, their former glory, and are again gar- nished as in the former days. Now will all the doctrines of the gospel spangle and sparkle ; out of every text will the ministers of God make to issue exceedingly most precious and heavenly fire; for these stones are indeed the stones of fire. Eze. xxviii. 16. And in them is contained that which would set the whole world on a flame with love and delight in the things of God and another world, had but men the spirit of wisdom, and the authority of God in their ministry, as the apostles and the primitive Christians had. Well this doc- trine of the twelve shall be again adorned with gifts and grace as in the days of old: by which it shall also be made to shine, and to cast forth its golden rays before the nations to their salvation. Behold, saith God, I will lay thy stones with fair colours, that is, thy apostolical doctrines shall again be garnished as at the first, is. liv. 11. Truth shall appear in it3 old and mature colours, and as such shall be embraced, and lived and delighted in, both by Jews and Gentiles, as I have showed. But secondly, The twelve foundations that here you read of, they are the same with If you corapare the those twelve stones that long be- stones you will fhui „ >ii in them, someof them, tore were set in the breastplate of to differ in name, • j , • 1 • i but know it is usual judgment, in which were engraven for one stone to go the names of the twelve tribes of and^Me^the the children of Israel, the names Greek doth ' give of which tribes did comprehend the names than doth whole body of the house of their the Heteew text- fathers. Ex. xxviii. 16— 21, 29 ; xxxk. 14. Now then, see- ing these twelve are the same with thoso on the breastplate of judgment; and seeing also, that those on the breastplate did comprehend the whole of the twelve tribes, I conclude that for these foundations to be garnished with all manner of precious stones, it is as much as to say, they shall be garnished with abundance of converts ; multi- tudes, and that of all sorts, both of Jews and Gen- tiles, Moors, Tartars, Turks, and those in the utmost parts of the world, shall now Converts the be entangled with the light and truth, f^xanis 1™^"- with the glory and goodness of the tl0us- doctrine of the twelve. And I the rather take it thus, 1. Because, as the foundations themselves are said to be precious stones ; so also the saints in general, they go under 'the same names too. As Jeremiah saith, the precious stones of the sanctuary are the precious sons of Zion. La. iv, 1— 3. As Peter also saith, in alluding to the precious stones of the temple; the saints are lively, or living THE NEW JERUSALEM. 433 precious stones, built up a spiritual house, &c. iPe. ii. 5. And the foundations of the wall were garnished with all manner of precious stones. 1 cu. xxix. 2. That is, the doctrine of the twelve was garnished with all manner of precious souls; that is, converted by it, by which they become a glory and a garnishing- to it. 2. I take it to be the conversion of the precious ones of God; because that thus to understand it, is most like the phrase of the apostle Paul himself, saying, ' What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For ye are our glory and joy.' i Th. ii. 19,20. Mark, in the text he saith, The foundations were garnished with all manner of precious stones, and here those precious stones, Paul accounts to be those that are converted by the Word: for what is our hope, or joy, or crown? are not even ye that have been converted by us? Ye are our joy, ye are our crown, ye are our glory ; it is with you that we shall be crowned, adorned, and garnished in the presence of our Lord Jesus. Mark, John saith, They are garnished, Paul saith, they are crowned ; John saith, they are garnished with precious stones, and Paul saith, they are crowned with the conversion of sinners. Thus therefore as God will lay these stones with fair colours, so also he will lay these foundations with sapphires. is.iiv. 11. That is, as he will beautify the doctrine of the twelve with its former glory, sweetness, and authority; so he will crown and garnish it with the conversion of many sinners. The elect are the jewels of God, and this is the day of his binding them up, even then when the antichrist falls, and the gospel breaks out in its primitive glory. Mai. iii. 16— 18. And the foundations of the wall icere garnished with all manner of precious stones. ' In these words, there are yet two things considerable. First Consideration. That all who go to the adorning of these foundations, they must he precious stones, not a common stone shall here be owned. And indeed what should pebbles do among the pearls and the diamonds of New Jerusalem; or the stones of blackness and emptiness, among the saints of light. JobxxviiL3. I tell you, that those which God doth reckon the adorning-stones, they are all and every one, precious stones ; they must be all lively, glistering, and curious stones, though stones of divers colours. 1 Pe. ii. 6. 1 Ch. xxix. 2. Antichrist counts anything sufficient enough to garnish his apostles with, even the empty stones of confusion, the sinners that have no more grace in their souls then there is sap in a post that hath been this twenty years without either sap or water, is xxxiv. 11. But God will not count such for the beauty of his word, nor for the garnishing and beautifying of the doctrine of the twelve, they are garnished with Precious Stones. vol. 111. Second Consideration. As he saith the founda- tions are garnished with precious stones only, so lie saith it is with All Manner of precious stones: by which he would have us understand that all saints have not the same degree either of precious grace or gifts and virtue in them. There are some that excel and differ from the rest, even as one star dilfereth from another in glory. lCo.fiv.lft. Some saints, as they have both more grace and also gifts than others; so too they are more labori- ous and painful in the work of God than their fel- lows, and therefore he saith, All Manner of pre- cious Stones. Pr. xxxi. 29. 1 Co. xv. 10, 41. [ The Foundations, what they are, with tlceir order of placing.} Verse 20. 'The first foundation icas jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx: the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite;' (fee. Thus having showed you the garnishing and beautifying of the twelve foundations, he now comes to discover the foundations themselves, with reference to their order of placing and lying. [Tlie First Foundation.] Touching which order, he saith the first and bottom foundation is a jasper. I have hitherto said that this jasper in both the two afore-mentioned places, both as to The ^pn doM the light of this city, and also of the represent the ii • t >ti • ™ • -i Lord Christ wall, it was Jesus Christ: Christ a- upou several luminating, and Christ defending. But here the jasper is said to be one of the twelve foundations, even one of those foundations in which are writ the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb, which one would think did put this jasper now into another state, even to be a representation of one of the twelve apostles, and not of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ himself. To which I shall yet say, that the jasper here in the order of the foundations, is to be understood of Christ, as well as in the other two places in this discourse ; I say it is yet to be understood of representing the Lord Jesus, though it also doth bear the name of one of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. And in this very thing there is an infolding mystery wrapped up and inclosed. For, First. In that the name of an apostle is writ in this stone, and yet that this jasper . ,, /-.i • -ii Tht; first accom.t. should represent Christ, it showeth uuto us the agreement that is between the doctrine of the apostles and Christ himself, to wit, that they are one and the very same ; and hence it is that the apostle saith, ■ We preach Christ crucified.' l Co. i. 23, 21. Christ in all his benefits is the very marrow, life, and sum of all their teaching. ' Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. ' l Co. iii. 11. Wherefore the doctrine of the apostles being Christ itself, no marvel though 43-i THE HOLY CITY, OR the name of an apostle be writ upon this jasper; and again, no marvel though this jasper go yet under that name that represents him. Second. In that it is said the names of the twelve The second ac- are in these twelve foundations, and count. yet t]iat the first of them ghouid be the jasper, Christ; it argueth also, that whosoever receiveth the doctrine of the twelve, they must needs with that receive the Lord Christ himself. Receive the doctrine of the. gospel, as it is held forth by the twelve in the word, and thou canst not miss of the Lord Jesus Christ himself; he will be found in the bottom of their doctrine. Ye ' are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone.' Ep. i. 19, 20. Third. In that he saith in these twelve stones The third ac- are the names of the twelve apostles, count- and yet that the first should be the jasper, Christ; it argueth also that wherever the doctrine of the twelve is preached, there is there- with the presence of Christ: the presence of his Spirit to teach and enlighten the ignorant and blind hearts of the unconverted ; the presence also of his power to overcome them, and to make them fall under the glory and truth of his heavenly Avord. ' Lo,' saith he, ' I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.' « And they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following.' Mat. xxviii. 20. Mar. xvi. 20. Fourth. In that he saith the names of the twelve The fourth ac- are m the foundations, and yet that count. Christ should be one of the twelve him- self; it showeth to us the union that is between Christ and his holy people. Mark in the twelve foundations are placed all, even all manner of pre- cious stones. Again, in the twelve is placed the jasper, Christ ; by which we may see the nearness that is between Christ and his whole body. ' I in them, and thou in me,' saith Christ, 'that they may be made perfect in one.' Jn. xvii.23. Christ and his saints make but one temple, one man ; being but one flesh, one nature, r 8ay? a vcry sweet and sparkling light and glory in it, enough to take the eye and affect the heart of all those that look upon it. And thus is Christ to all that come to him, and by him to the Father, dained in his church, for men to travel and trade in,1 for the good and wholesome merchandize of To travel aud trade,' means to pursue or labour in aa THE NEW JERUSALEM. 437 heaven, as the men of this world do for the things thereof in the streets and open places of their cities and places of privilege, rr. vill 1— ;s ; ix. i-u. Thus it was in the figure when the city Jeru- salem was built after the captivity, as ours shall be at and after the overthrow and downfall of anti- christ, for then it is said that the people, to hear the law, were gathered together in the street, even in the water street ; there they heard the sense given, and there they were convinced of their wickedness ; also there they received the know- ledge of God's goodness to them, and there they received power to eat the fat and drink the sweet, to eat and drink and be merry, and to cast away sadness and fear. Ne. viii. This, by way of allegory, is called the way for the wayfaring men, even the way of holiness, over which the unclean shall not in anywise pass. The way in which they learn to know God and themselves, and the way of new- ness of life, in which every one walks that cntereth in by the gates of New Jerusalem. And it is most suitable to the matter that went before to understand the street to be the way of God, the way of holiness and newness of life ; because as it is natural for the stranger, so soon as ever he is entered the gates of a city, to have his feet in the streets of the city, so it is natural for the sinner, so soon as ever he is entered into the church by Christ, to have his feet treading in the way and paths of holiness. Wherefore it is usual in the Holy Scripture to call the trans- formation of the sinner from Satan to God a holy way, and also to admonish him that is so trans- formed to walk in that way, saying, Walk in the faith, love, spirit, and newness of life, and walk in the truth, ways, statutes, and judgments of God. t's. lxxxvi. 11; cxliii. 8. Eze. xi. 20; xxxvii. 24. Ga. v. 25. Ro.iv.12. lie that entereth not by these gates into the city, he cannot walk in newness of life; but he that entered in by them, he cannot but walk in newness of life. The next thing then that a man passeth into when he is entered into the New Jerusalem, is to walk in the Strket thereof, the way of holiness, even the way in which men learn to fear God, and to believe in and love the Lord JeSUS, &C. Ep. v. 1, 2. 2 Jn. 4. Ro. vi. 4 Second. Now this street or way of holiness, it is Why this street is 0n Pu!Tose Called not manJ"» but 0ne> called nut many, to show us the perfection of light, grace, faith, and spiritual comfort, that the inhabitants of this city shall then enjoy. Daniel also calleth it one street, to signify the same thing. Da. ix. 2.3. Wherefore from hence I gather, that then all saints shall walk — as before 1 have made appear — even in one street, in one way, and in one light. Tt is Antichrist that hath brought in all those crossings, bye-lanes, and odd nooks, that to this day many an honest heart doth greatly loso itself in ; but at this day they shall be otherwise minded, that is, made all to savour one thing, and to walk one way, not biting and devouring each other as now. And indeed there is all reason it should be thus, for the street itself is but one. There is but one God, one Lord Jesus, one Spirit, ONE faith, ONE baptism, even as we are also called in one hope of our calling. Ep. iv. 5, g. Ac. ii. 27, 32, 33. Ph. i. 27. Ro. xv. 6. Now, therefore, when saints have the rubbish of antichristian darkness and trumpery removed, then they shall have, as they also had of old, but one heart, one soul, one judgment, one mind, and shall with one heart and mouth glorify God. The which also shall be prayed for of all the saints, even of all that have received the pure language before these things come to pass. They shall ' call upon the name of the Lord ' with One lip, ' to serve him with One consent.' Zep. iii. 9. 0 ! the heavenly spiritual harmony that will be in the city of God in those days, when the trumpeters and singers shall be a3 one, to make one sound, then the house shall be filled with a cloud.'2 2 Ch. v. 13. 'flvird. When he saith that the street of the city was pure gold, he alludes to the why the street floor in Solomon's temple, which was "called gold. overlaid with gold. 1 Ki. vi. 30. He alludes to Solo- mon's chariot also, whose bottom was paved with love, and overlaid with gold. Ca. iii. 10. By the floor of the temple, we are to understand the way of holiness j and by the chariot of Solomon, tho triumphant glory of that way. Again, in that ho saith this street is gold, he would have us to understand the worth and treasure that is laid up in the ways of God, and of a truly gracious heart. First for the worth and treasure that is laid up iu the ways of God. They beget light, Pa. cxix. 130, they change the heart, they lead from death, the devil, and hell, to life, God, and the kingdom of heaven, rs. cxix. 9. Pr. ii. In them God walks, and those that walk there also are sure to meet with him. is. lxiv. 5. 0 this way, it is the way which 'no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen ;' * It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall lver be weighed for the price thereof. - The gold habitual course, exercise, or custom, as, ' Thy siu's not acci dental but a trade.'— Hhaksjjeart. Or, trade wind. — (,Eu.; 1 The perfect unity of the Christian world is not likely to take place before the glorious meeting in the holy city, under the personal reign of Christ. The divisions among Christians arise, as Bunyan justly says, from antichristian rubbish, dark- ness, and trumpery ; the great evil arising from difference 01 opinion, is that lust of domination over the faith of others which naturally leads to bitterness and persecution. In the earliest days one was of Paul, another of Apollos, and another of Cephas. The exercise of Christian forbearance was not an act of uniformity, but a declaration of the Holy Ghost. ' Who ait thou that judgest auother man's servant ?' ' Let every man be fully persuaded in his own miud.' Ro. xiv. 4, 5. — (Ed.) 43S THE HOLY CITY, OR and the crystal cannot equal It ; and the exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold. No men- tion shall be made of coral or of pearls ; for the price of wisdom is above rubies.' Job xxvui. 7, 15—18, 28. All the ways of God they are pleasantness, and all his paths are peace, and ought to be preferred before our necessary food. Pr. iii. 17. Again, as the ways of God are thus rich, and so far above the gold and rubies of the world, so also is that sanctified and gracious heart, without which no man can walk in this golden street. It is not every clown with his clumping dirty shoes that i3 admitted into kings' privy-chambers and private palaces ; neither doth, or will God, at the day of New Jerusalem, suffer any to trace about this golden street, but such as have golden feet, and that beautified with goodly shoes. For as for this street, all that walk in it, they must be golden men, with golden Itearts, and with graces that are ' much more precious than of gold that perisheth.' Ca. viL 1. 1 Pe. i. 7. Re. iii. 18. Further, in that he saith this street is gold, 'pure gold,' he giveth us to understand also what great delight and pleasure the Lord's people will take in his ways and ordinances in that day. There will not then be that backwardness to do good, and to receive God, as there is in these more dry and empty days of the gospel. As gold is pleasing to the covetous man and worldling, so shall the ways of God be to the saints and godly at that day. Now we have strong corruptions and weak grace, but then we shall have strong grace and weak withered corruptions. You that are spiritual, you know what an high and goodly lifting up of heart one small gale of the good Spirit of God will make in your souls, how it will make your lusts to languish, and your souls to love, and take pleasure in the Lord that saves you. You know, I say, what a flame of love, and bowels, and compassion, and self-denial, and endeared affection to God and all saints, it will beget in the soul. 0! it is good to be here, saith the gracious heart. Well, and so thou shalt be always, if thou live to see New Jerusalem settled in her own place, is. lxv. 17— 25. [Fourth.] ' And the street of the city was pure What is meant by gold, as it were transparent glass.' b'lass Mark, a street of gold like glass, a street of gold, as it were transparent glass. By glass here, as also in ver. 18, we are to understand the Word. Ja.i.23— 25. Wherefore, when he saith the street, the golden street, was like unto glass, he means, that the walking and carriage of the saints at this day shall be like unto, or according to, the Word, the life of the saints answering the life of the Word and rule of the Lord Christ. Again, in that he doth add to glass the word transparent, he would have us to understand thereby these two things. 1. That the walking and ways of holiness of the saints shall be more in the power and ™ „ , Ml • Tlle fi'"St reaSf>n spirit of the Word, than all along in why transparent the reign of Antichrist they have gass' been. For transparent glass, it is the most clear and excellent glass, and goeth as far beyond other sorts of glass, as he that walks iu the spirit and power of the commandment goes beyond him that only walks in the letter and outward word thereof. Alas, the churches of Christ, at their first assem- bling, will be like the coming together of Ezekiel's bones, clothed much with flesh and sinews, but greatly void of spirit and life. Ez. xxxvii. 7, 8. Where- fore the spirit, power, holiness, and majesty that now will appear in the church, it will greatly transcend and go beyond the spirit, power, and holiness that hath accompanied her in former days. Then shall the sun be ashamed, and the moon confounded, when the Lord shall reign in Mount Zion, &c. is. xxiv. 23. Then shall the sun be ashamed, that is, then shall that little light and understanding of the Word, that hath been in the church in the days when a third part of the glory of the gospel was hid by the smoke of the pit, be, as it were, laid aside and be useless. Re. viu.i2; ix.2. Every saint shall be under the light of a sun that shines seven-fold brighter, even as the light of seven days. We see it is so in some measure at this day ; what light, and with what clearness do the saints in this day see the things pertaining to the kingdom of God, beyond what the holy and goodly martyrs and saints did in the days that were before us; Huss, Bilney, Ridley, Hooper, Cran- mer, with their brethren, if they were now in the world, would cry out and say, Our light and know- ledge of the word of the Testament of Christ was much inferior to the light that at this day is broken forth, and that will yet daily, in despite of men and devils, display its rays and beams amongst the sons of When the children of Israel were to depart the land of Egypt, the Lord made known himself to them otherwise than ever he made known himself either to Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, their fathers. Ex.vi. 3. The book also, at the recovering the church from under Antichrist, is to be unlocked and unsealed gradually, first one seal and afterwards another, and last of all the seventh, before which time the book will never quite be opened. Re. v. and vi. According to that of the angel, ' Go thy way, Daniel ; for the words are closed up, and sealed till the time of the end. Da xii. 9. In which time (which is the time of New Jerusalem) they shall be opened, and men shall 1 As the leaven goes on ini]iercq)tibly until tin; whole is leavened, so the kingdom of our Lord must increase. How extraordinary has been the progress of Divine truth since Banyan's days ! and who can predict what it will be in another century ? — (Ed.) THE NEW JERUSALEM. 439 consider it perfectly.' Je. xxx. 2i; xxin. sol Where- fore, 2. It must needs be that the church return to TI „„ , , her ohl and primitive love. For what a he second reason r why transparent is the cause of the want of love to Christ and one another now, hut our want of light in the things, mysteries, and privi- leges of the glorious gospel of the Son of God? Wherefore this being come, then love will reign, and have her perfect work among the godly. Love is the very quintessence of all the graces of the gospel, and is as transparent to them ; ' the greatest of these is charity.' lCo.xffi.ia. It is the 'fulfilling of the law,' 'the bond of perfectness,' and the most ' excellent way.' 1 Co. xii. 31. Ro. xiii. 10. 1 Co. xvi. 14. Col. Hi. li. Wherefore the Holy Ghost doth mean, by this word transparent glass, that the height of light, and the height of love, will be found in this city; all their things shall be done without confused smoke and darkness, and also without spiritual pride and desire of vain-glory: then shall they indeed do all their things in charity, and in the feeling bowels and fellowship of the gospel. ' Then shall the offering of Judah and Jerusalem be pleasant unto the Lord, as in the days of old, and as in former years.' Mai. iii. 4. Alas ! though now through grace the saints of God have attained to more light and knowledge in the mysteries of the kingdom of God than here- tofore they had, yet their light is far inferior to that which will be when this city is built. Our spiritual union and fellowship in the very bowels of the grace and gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ also is yet greatly defective. It is said that ' no man was able to enter into the temple ' of God, ' till the seven plagues of the seven angels were fulfilled.' Re. xv. 8. But when the seven last plagues are spent, and when all the adversaries of the church, which caused terror in the land of the living, shall be laid with the uncircumcised in the pit, then look for golden days, and not till then. Eze. xxxii. 18. Then shall this golden street be finished ; that is, then shall the light, faith, love, and holi- ness of the gospel be walked in and embraced in a transparent and transcending way. ' He shall cause them that come of Jacob to take root ; Israel shall blossom and bud, and fill the face of the world with fruit.' Is. xxvu. G. [ The city has no temple.] Ver. 22. • And I saw no temple therein ; for The time when the Lord God Almighty and the this city shall Lamb are the temple of it.' These have no temple. r words do, in my present light, point at the end of the days of this Jerusalem here in this world : and in so doing they signify to us, that when she is built, she shall stand and continue in this her glorious state afore-mentioned, even until that glory bo swallowed up of that which doth excel. That they do point at the end of her day in this world, I do gather from these particulars: First. Because they are the last words of the description of her glory, — that is, these and the words ensuing, which is but one and the same continued speech ; and it is easy to conclude that John, in this description of this city, doth, from first to last, even from the first appearing of her as she cometh out of Babylon till she be perfect in glory, give us the relation of it. First, I say, showing us her descending, then her building, and afterward the glory of that building ; at the end of which also he showeth to us with what glory he will crown this glory, even by swallowing of her up with a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Second, Because in these words he doth abso- lutely cut otf all and every whit of her outward and external glory ; that is, as to outward ordin- ances and temple-worship, which yet was to be most famous for a long time in this new and goodly city ; which he verifies in the eleventh chapter of this prophecy, which chapter is a summary col- lecting of the church in her fall and rise under Antichrist, which church there in her rise is this city here in her glory in this world. He tells us there, I say, that when the kingdoms of this world were become the kingdoms of the Lord, and of his Christ, that 'then the temple of God wa9 opened in heaven ;' that is, temple-worship under the gospel recovered into its former and primitive state and purity, in which it was before the com- ing in of the man of sin. Re. xi. 15— 19, compared with xv. 8. Which temple he here utterly shutteth out, saying, ' I saw no temple therein ;' in the room of which he setteth the presence of the Lord Jesus, and God his Father, making them to stand and be in the room of temple and gospel-worship, in that manner as it is used while we here live in the flesh. ' For the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it.' It is true, the Lord God Al- mighty and the Lamb are the temple of this church in her lowest condition, therefore much more when she is brought into the condition that she is in at her rebuilding; but yet, neither in her low estate, nor yet in her highest, is it proper to say, that so long as she is in this world, God will be a temple to her, in opposition to her temple and gospel-worship, in outward and New Testa- ment administrations. Wherefore when he saith He 'saw no temple therein,' and that from this reason, because 'the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it ;' he must needs aim at a state to which the church cannot attain until her Lord comes. For then will that which is per- fect be come, and that which is in part be done away. 1 Cor xiii. iu. 410 THE HOLY CITY, OR Now that the temple In this place excluded, can signify nothing else but the outward What this ei- ° f % n f> 1 • i • l eluded temple orderly way of God s worship, winch signifies. ^ gamts 0Ught with conscience, in faith, to he found in till their Lord comes, con- sider that our New Testament doth use the word 'temple ' three several ways: 1, For the outward order and worship or discipline of the Gospel, lie. xi. 1-3. 2. For the body of Christ, which is his church, r it doth in general include the multitude of the sinners of the world. Ep. ii. 1-3. 1 Co. vL 0-11. Tit. iii. x Therefore, when he saith, the nations shall walk in the light of this city, it is as if he had said, that at this day, when she is here in her tranquillity, the sinners and disobedient among the sons of men shall by multitudes and whole kingdoms come in and close with the church and house of God. These spiders shall take hold with their hands, and be in kings' palaces. i*r. m. 23. 1 And the nations,' &c. For this word, • the nations,' is a great word, and it com- Howthenatioiu prehendeth much ; mark, it doth not k"w talis!? say a nation, or some nations, neither lem- doth it say few or small nations, but indefinitely, the nations, many nations, strong nations, all nations, the nations in general ; only he ties them up with this limit, the nations of them that are saved, is. m. 15 ; u. 22 ; IL 2. Which yet is not so much spoken to clip off the multitude that we suppose may then be converted, as to show us their quali- fications and. happiness ; as he saith by the prophet in another place, Thy children shall be all holy, or righteous, ' and great shall be the peace of thy children.' is. Uv. 13; he, 21. 'And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it.' Surely the Holy Ghost would never have spoken at such a rate as this, if he had not intended to show us that at the day of the setting up of this Jeru- salem, a great harvest of sinners shall be gathered by the grace of the gospel. But the truth is, the Scriptures go with open arms towards the latter end of the world, even as if they would grasp and compass about almost all people then upon the face of the whole earth with the grace and mercy of God. 'The earth,' saith God, 'shall be full of the knowledge' of the glory 'of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.' Is. xi. 9. Hai>. ii. 14 As he saith, also, for the comfort of the church in another place, ' Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands, thy walls are continually before me. Thy children shall make haste ; thy destroyers and they that made thee waste shall go forth of thee. Lift up thine eyes round about, and behold : all these gather themselves together, and come to thee. As I live, saith the Lord, thou shalt surely clothe thee with them all, as with an ornament, and bind them on thee, as a bride doeth. For thy waste and thy desolate places, and the land of thy destruction, shall even now be too narrow by reason of the inhabitants, and they that swallowed thee up shall be far away. The children which tbou shalt have, after thou hast lost the other, shall say again in thine ears, The place is to strait for me; give place to me, that I may dwell. Then shalt thou say in thine heart, Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have lost my children, and am desolate, a captive and removing to and fro? and who hath brought up these? Behold, I was left 444 THE HOLY CITY, OR alone, these, where had they been?' Is.xlfc.l6— 21. Thus the multitudes of the nations shall at this day be converted to the Lord, and be made the inhabi- tants of this Jerusalem ; as he saith again, ' The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ.' Re. xi. 15. And again, ' The kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to tbe people of the saints of the Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all do- minions shall serve and obey him.' Da vfi.27. And observe it, these promises are to be fulfilled in the last days, at the time of the pouring forth of the last vial, which is the time of the sounding of the last of the seven trumpets ; for then this city shall be built, and Lucifer fallen from heaven; then the prisoners shall be set at liberty, and the people be gathered together, ' and the kingdoms to serve the Lord.' is. a. 1, 2; «v. 4— 6. Ps. cii. 20— 22. Re. xi. 15—17. ' Rejoice, 0 ye nations, with his people, for he will avenge the blood of his servants, and will render vengeance to his adversaries, and will be merciful unto his land, and to his people.' De. xxxii. a. Alas ! it is now towards the end of the world, and therefore now all is going, if the Lord steps not in with the riches of his grace. Where- fore now at last, before all be turned into fire and ashes, behold the Lord casts the net among the multitude of fish, and the abundance of the sea shall, without fail, be converted to Jerusalem. Is. lx. 5. Though Satan and Antichrist have had their day in the world, and by their outrage have made fearful havoc of the souls of sinners from time to time, yet now at length God will strike in for a share with them, and his Son ' shall divide the spoil with the strong.' is.iiii. 12. Wherefore he now sets up this city, puts the glory of heaven upon her, provides a new heaven and a new earth for her situation, Is. lxvi. 22; drives profaneness into the holes and dens of the earth ; giveth righteous- ness authority to reign in the world, 2 Pe. iii. 13; and takes off the veil from all faces, that none may hereafter be for ever beguiled by blindness and ignorance, is. xxv. 7. Now shall they make merry with the things of God ; now shall all eat the fat and drink the sweet. 1 Ki. iv. 20. Ke. \-hi. 10, 12. For ' in this mountain shall the Lord of hosts make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined.' is. xxv. 6. 1 And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it.' They ' shall walk in the light of it.' That is, in the light that is in it while it is in its purity in this world, and in the glory of it when it is in its perfection and immor- tality in another. Whence note by the way, that in the midst of all this glory, or while the glorious light of the gospel shall thus shine in the world, yet even then there will be some also that will not see and rejoice in the glory hereof. But as for those, whoever they are, they are excluded from a share in the blessed and goodly privileges of this city. ' The nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it.' 'And the kings of the earth do bring their glorv and honour into it.' By these words are great things held forth. He told us before that the nations of them that are saved shall walk in the light of it; and here he tells us that Howthekinosof even their kings also, the kings of the fikT* jg earth, do bring their honour and glory Jerusalem. to it. The people of the nations they are but like to single pence and halfpence, but their kings like gold angels and twenty-shilling pieces.1 Where- fore, when he saith that the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour unto it, it argueth that the gospel and the grace of God, when it is displayed in its own nature, and seen in it3 own complexion, even then they that have most of the honour and glory of the world will yet stoop their top-gallant2 unto it. * Because of thy temple which is at Jerusalem, shall kings bring presents unto thee.' Ps. ixviii. 29. is. xiix. 22, 23. 'The kings of Tarshish, and of the isles, shall bring presents' to thee: ' the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer gifts. Yea, all kings shall fall down before him ; all nations shall serve him.' Ps. lxxii. 10, 11. The kings shall see and arise, and ' princes also shall wor- ship because of the Lord,' u.) 454 THE HOLY CITY, OR the efficaciousness of its leaves, which here he saith doth heal the nations ; 1 will take notice of one or two general things that lie before me, from the standing of the tree in the midst of ihe street of this city. First then, In that he saith this city hath a tree of life in it, he alludes to the garden of Eden, the pleasant paradise that God began the world withal; whereby he signifieth that as the world began with a paradise, so also it shall end with a paradise, when sin and Satan have done their worst. This New Jerusalem shall be the wind up of the world, nnd in it shall stand the tree of life, as well as there stood one in the goodly garden, which was the beginning thereof. In which paradise there shall be no tree of knowledge, or the law of works, to bear sway, and to cause that the sons of God shall be thrust out thence for their eating of its for- bidden fruits ; no, the tree of life alone shall here bear sway and rule, whose fruit is only healthful, and the leaves thereof for medicine. [1.] Now this tree of life being in the midst of this city, it signifieth that the inhabitants of it shall be sweetly shadowed, refreshed, and defended with its coolness, and also sweetly nourished and comforted with its dainties. And hence it is that tbe Scriptures do hold him forth in his benefits to his church under these very notions. ' As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.' Ca. ii. 3. Indeed the shadow of this tree of life, as always it is refreshing to the tempted and weary, so now it will be far more. ' They that dwell under his shadow shall return ; they shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine; the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon.' iiab. xiv. 7. Mark, (1.) His shadow will make us return, that is, to our first love ; to the days of our youth, to our young, fresh, tender, and flour- ishing faith, love, and self-denial, that we received in the days of our espousals. (2.) As it will make us return to these, so it will make us revive in these; they shall return and revive, they shall revive as the corn ; as the corn doth when, in the heat of summer, after long scorching, it is covered with cool clouds, and watered with the bottles of heaven. (3.) As it shall make them return and revive, so it shall make them grow ; they shall grow as the vine, that is, speedily, fruitfully, and spreadingly. (4.) This is not all, but the smell of saints in those days shall be excellent: 'They shall revive as the corn,' they shall 'grow as the vine,' and shall send forth their scent ' as the wine of Lebanon.' This tree is a perfuming tree, and makes them also that abide under the shadow thereof to smell as sweet-smelling myrrh; it makes them smell as the wine of thy grace, 0 Lord, and as the fragrant ointments of heaven. When the spouse did but touch where her Lord had touched afore her, it made her * hands drop with myrrh, and her fingers ivith sweet-smelling myrrh.' Ca. v. 5. 0 they will be green, savoury, reviving, flourishing, growing Christians, that shall walk the street of New Jerusalem! ' I am,' saith he, 'like a green fir tree. From me is thy fruit found.' Ho. xiv. 8. [2.] But again, As he shall be thus profitable to hjs people for shadow and reviving, so he will be in the midst of the street of it for food, for refresh- ing and replenishing that way. ' I sat down under his shadow with great delight,' said she, ' and his fruit was sweet to my taste.' Ezekiel tells us that this tree is all trees ; and on the bank of the river, on this side, and on that, were all trees for meat. Eze. xlvii. 12. Indeed Christ is all trees ; yea, there is more to be found in him for the food of the soul, than there can be on all trees for the food of the body. He is a fir-tree for tallness, green- ness and strength; he is an olive for fatness, a vine for sweetness and goodness, for therewith is refreshed the heart both of God and man. Ho. xiv. 8. Eo. xi. 17. Jn. xv. i, 2. What shall I say, He is the almond-tree, the fig-tree, the apple-tree, all trees ; The tree of life also in the midst of the paradise of God. Ca. ii. 13. To conclude. — Seeing Christ is said to be in the midst of the street of this city, it showeth unto us with what, at all occasions, the actions of the saints of this city shall be seasoned. The street, you know I told you, is the way of holiness in this city, the place of spiritual recreation and solace. Now in the very midst of this street there stands this tree, which being thus, it showeth us how wonderfully Christ, as a tree of life, will be in all the words and deeds of the inhabitants of this Jeru- salem ; they will walk in Christ, they will talk in Christ, they will do all they do in Christ, or rather Christ will be found in all their ways ; even as the tree of life is found in the midst of the street of this city : ' they shall walk up and down in his name, saith the Lord.' Zee x. 12. Again, In that this tree is said to stand in the midst of the street, it showeth unto us how com- mon and free his benefits will now be also. The plumbs, and figs, and grapes, and apples of this tree, will be open to every passenger : not a boy nor a girl, that now shall play in thy street, 0 Jeru- salem, but shall eat of the fruits of the tree that stands in the midst of thee, as of common things. Je. x.vxi. 4, 5. [Second.] 'And in the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river was there the tree of life. ' As this tree doth stand in the midst of the street of this city, so it also standeth on each side of the river of the water of life, of which you have heard before. Now when he saith, the tree THE NEW JERUSALEM. 455 is on either side of the river; whence by the way note yet again, that both the water of life, and also the tree of life, they are both to be enjoyed by the inhabitants of this city in the way of holiness; the tree is in the midst of the street, and the river runs through or between tho very tables of the heart of this tree of life ; on either side of the river was there the tree of life. Again, In that it is said that this tree of life is on either side of the river; it argueth that they who come at any time at this river for water to quench their thirst, and to make them live, they must come to it by the tree of life, which is Christ. In more easy terms, read it thus : There is none can partake of the grace of God but by the man Christ Jesus, which is this tree of life. Col. ii. 3, 9. For this tree, this Christ, doth stand on either side of the river, to signify that all grace to us comes through his bloody wounds, death and victory. Jn. i. ii3. 'I am the way,' saith Christ, ' and the truth, and the life ; no man corneth to the Father but by me.' Jn. xiv. g. • And on either side of the river was there the tree of life.' Mark, but one tree, and yet such a tree whose body reached as far as the river reached: indeed Ezekiel saith this tree is all trees for meat, yet not to show that there are more trees of life than one, but to show that all that can be thought of that is good for soul-nourishment, is to be fouud in this one, that is, in Christ Jesus. And it is further evident that though he saith all trees, as if he meant many, yet he spake but metaphorically, to show thereby the fulness of Christ; because John doth understand him so, calling it one tree, to wit, ' the tree of life.' But mark again, so far as the river goes, so far the tree goes, so that where you cannot find the tree of life, be sure there is none of the water of life. No Christ, no grace. ' He that hath the Son hath life, but he that hath not the Son of God, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him. ' Jn. hi. 36. l Jn, v. 12. For ' on either side of the river was there the tree of life. [ Tlie fruits of this tree. ] * Which bare twelve man- ner of fruits. ' This word fruits, it may be taken two ways — either as it relates to God, or as it re- lates to man, for, as I said before, the fruit of this tree refreshes the heart both of God and man. Ju. ix. 9, 14. [L] Now if it be taken with reference to God, then it signifieth the complete satisfaction that by the worthiness of the fruits of the passion of Christ is given to God for the salvation of the church; this city of God. Da. ix. 21, 26. He suffered to finish transgression, to make an end of sin, and to bring in everlasting righteousness ; by this, I say, is the heart of God refreshed, and in this doth it rest. Mat Hi. 17. [2.] If fruit here be taken with reference to men, then it signifieth the happiness and glory that those- for whom he died and rose again should receive by this means. His fruit, I have showed you, is sweet to tho taste of his church, which fruit is the effect of his undertaking for sinners and the com- fortable savour of it in the soul. [The variety of the fruits.] * Which bare twelve manner of fruits.' In that he saith the fruits aro twelve, he herein alludetli, 1. To the twelve tribes of the Israel of God; for which twelve tribes here will be found a suitable measure of food, healing food: ' I will multiply tho fruit of the tree,' saith God, and also ' the increase of the field, that ye shall receive no more reproach of famine among the heathen.' F.ze. xxxvi. so. Again, These that John calleth ' twelve manner of fruits,' the prophet Ezekiel calleth 'all manner of fruit for meat.' For indeed, as I showed before, there is that to be found in Christ, both for fulness and variety, that is not to be found in heaven and earth beside. Here is fruit for body, fruit for soul, fruit for babes, fruit for strong men, fruit for fathers, yea, for glorified saints and angels. Fruits, variety of fruits, even twelve manner of fruits. 2. By twelve manner of fruits, he doth also al- lude to the apostles, who are called twelve, and arc those who have made provision for the house of God, according to the twelve-fold manner of the dispensation of God unto them, and of the twelve- fold manner of operation of that holy Spirit which wrought in every one of them severally as ho pleased. Which twelve were before figured unto us by the twelve officers of king Solomon, the type of Christ, which twelve were to make provision for the house of the king, according to the season of the year, and each man his month in the year, l kl iv. 7. Which very thing the Holy Ghost also doth here cast his eye upon, and that makes him bring in the words of ■ every month. ' saying, it yields its fruit ' every month.' For indeed, whatever you read of concerning this city, in this description of John, you find something or other in the writings of the prophets that giveth ground for such expres- sions. Wherefore seeing the officers of Solomon were twelve, and the apostles of Christ twelve also; and seeing the officers of Solomon made provision for his house, each man his month in a year, and the fruits of this tree of life are called twelve man- ner of fruits, I do take the twelve manner of fruits here to be signified by the provision of Solomon's officers, according to the twelve seasons of the year, and they a type of the twelve-fold doctrine of the twelve apostles of the Lord Cbrist, for it is their doctrine that is the bread of the church, yea, the milk for the babe, and the strong meat for men. 1 Th. ii. 7. 1 Co. iii. 2. He. v. 11-14. [The abundance of the fruits.] 'And yielded her 456 THE HOLY CITY, OR fruit every month.' As this confinneth what I have said before, so it further showeth us these three things. First, That the effectual fruits of Christ for the saving of the world, they are to he had especially at certain seasons. It ' yielded her fruit every month.' Second, It showeth also that at the building of this Jerusalem, these seasons will be very thick and quick ; she yielded her fruit 'every month.' Iliird, It showeth us also the abundance of provision that this holy city shall then enjoy from the tree of life, even all manner of fruit every month. First, For the first, that the gospel hath and will be especially effectual at certain seasons for the saving of the sons of men ; it is showed us by the descending of the angels into the pool of Bethesda to trouble the water, which as it was at certain seasons, so he that in those seasons first stepped in, he only was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. Jn. v. 4. It is showed us also in that parable of the Lord's hiring men to work in his vineyard ; which time of hiring, though it lasteth in general from the first hour to the eleventh, yet so as that there were vacant seasons between hir- ing-times and hiring-times, quite through the whole day ; he went out at the first, third, sixth, ninth and eleventh hour, and not at every hour, to hire labourers. Mat. xx. 1-6. For as God hath appointed out beforehand the number of his elect, so also he hath determined in his good pleasure the day of their bringing in, and will then have them as cer- tainly as the wild ass is found in her month. Ga.i. 15, 16. H0.vi.11. Je.ii.24. Of which times and seasons, be- cause men are ignorant, therefore they should with all faithfulness wait upon God in all the seasons of his grace for their souls, even as he did for his body; who because he would be there at all seasons, brought thither his bed and couch to rest there. Jn. v. 8. Second, As by the fruit of this tree being yielded at certain seasons, we may gather that there are certain seasons in which the word in an especial manner shall be blessed and made successful to the salvation of many souls. So again, in that he saith this fruit is yielded every month, it signi- fieth that in the days of the building of the city, the New Jerusalem, these seasons will be very thick and quick. ' Lift up thine eyes,' saith God to this city, ' all they gather themselves together, they come to thee ; thy sons shall come from far, and thy daughters' from the ends of the earth. ' All the flocks of Kedar shall be gathered together unto thee ' so that thou wonderingly shalt sav, ' Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows ! ' is. lx. 4, 7, 8. For ' I will make all my mountains a way, and my highways shall be exalted. Behold these shall come from far ; and lo these from the north, and from the west, and those from the land of Sinim.' Ij. ilit 11, 12 Third, In that she is said to yield not only fruit, but all manner of fruit; and that not only one manner of fruit now, and another then, but all manner of fruit, and that every month; it argueth also that at this day Jerusalem shall have abun- dance of heavenly and spiritual provision, and of variety of dainties for her solace and refreshment; always new, I say, and immediately from the tree. The fruits of the vine shall at that day be upon the mountains of Samaria, and shall be eaten 'as com- mon things,' saith the prophet. Je. xxxi. 5. * Fear not, 0 land, be glad and rejoice; for the Lord will do great things. Be not afraid, ye beasts of the field, for the pastures of the wilderness do spring: for the tree beareth her fruit; the fig-tree and the vine do yield their strength. Be glad, then, ye children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God; for he hath given you the former' and the latter 'rain moderately, and he will cause to come down for you the rain, the former rain and the latter rain in the first month ; and the floors shall be full of wheat, and the fats shall overflow with wine and oil. And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the canker-worm and the cater- pillar, and the palmer-worm' hath eaten. 'And ye shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord. ' Joel n. 21-25. And then shall every one not only sit under his own vine, and under his own fig-tree, but from thence they shall call each to other, to give to each other their dainties, and none shall make them afraid. Zee. iii. 10. [77je virtue of the leaves.] ' And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.' By leaves here, we may understand the blessed and precious promises, consolations, and encourage* ments, that by virtue of Christ's undertaking for us, we have everywhere growing upon the new covenant; which promises and encouragements they are and will be most freely handed to the wounded conscience that will be tossed upon the restless waves of doubt and unbelief, as was the olive leaf by the dove brought home to Noah, when he was tossed upon the waves of that outrageous flood that then did drown the world. Ge. vm. But again, by this word, the leaves, you may conceive that still he hath his eye to the paradise in which at first God placed Adam and his com- panion, for it was to leaves they fled for covering after they had transgressed against their Maker. Ge. iii. 7. Now then, in his saying the leaves are for healing ; it is as if he had said, the paradise that will be towards the latter end of the world will far outstrip the paradise that first was planted in the beginning thereof; for as the tree of life, which is the Christ and Saviour, shall stand where did the THE NEW JERUSALEM. 57 tree of tlie knowledge of good and evil, which is the old covenant and law of works: so the leaves of this tree shall he for healing, and for covering the nakedness of poor transgressors, though the leaves that Adam found in the first paradise, do what he could, did leave him naked. Christ's leaves are better than Adam's aprons. Ezekiel saith that these leaves are for medicine, \ivii. is, that is, they are for healing, saith John ; the which may most fitly he applied to tho hlessed promise of grace. For as a leaf for medicine, when applied to a sore in the hody, doth supple, mollify, and heal the wound; so the word of promise, when rightly applied to the soul, it doth supple, mollify, and heal the wounded conscience. 'He sent his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. 0 that men would praise the Lord y*or his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men !' rs. cvii. 20, 21. 1 And the leaves,' ittoirs that stood before the Temple. As there were nets to catch, and pomegranates to bait, so there were chains belonging to these chapiters on these pillars. ' And he made chains, as in the oracle, and put them upon the head of the [pillars],' or chapiters. 2 Ch. Hi. io. But what were these chains a type of ? I answer, they were, perhaps, a type of those bonds which attend the gospel, by which souls taken are tied fast to the horns of the altar. Gospel grace, and gospel obligations, are ties and binding things ; they can hold those that are entangled by the word. * Love is strong as death ;' bands of love, and the cords of a man, and chains take hold on them that are taken by the gospel. Ho. xi. Ca. viii. 6. But this strength to bind lieth not in outward force, but in a sweet constraint, by virtue of the displays of undeserved love. ' The love of Christ coustraineth us.' 2 Co. v. 14. Wherefore as you find the nets, so the chains had pomegranates on them. ' And ' he ' made an hundred pomegranates, and put them upon the chains.' 2 Ch. m. 16. The chains then had baits, as well as the nets, to show that the bands of the gospel are unresistible goodnesses; such with which men love to be bound, and such as they pray they may be held fast by. He binds his foal to the vine ; his saint unto this Saviour. Ge. xlix. 11. By these chains there is therefore showed what strength there is in gospel-charms, if once the adder doth but hear them. Never man yet was able to resist them that well did know the mean- ing of them. They are mighty to make poor men obedient, and that in word and deed. These chains were such as were in the oracle, to show that gospel bonds are strong as the joys of heaven, and as the glories there; can make them chains as in the oracle, as in the most holy place. It is heaven that binds sinners on earth to the faith and hope of the gospel of Christ. XVII. Of the lily work which was upon the chapi- ters, that were upon these pillars of the Temple. These pillars were also adorned with lily work, as well as with pomegranates and chains. • The chapiters that were upon the top of the pillars were of lily work ;' ' so was the work of the pillars finished.' 1 Ki. vii. 19-22. This lily work is here put in on purpose, even to show us how far off those that were to be the true apostles of the Lamb should be from seeking carnal things, or of making their prevailing1 a stalking-horse to worldly greatness, and that pre- 1 In all the editions of this boot published since the author's death, these words are altered to 'their prsachiug.' — (Ed.) SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SHIilTUALIZED. 473 ferment. There was lily work upon them; that is, they lived upon the bounty and care of God, and were content with that glory which he had put upon them. 'The lilies,' saith Christ, 'they toil not, neither do they spin, and yet - Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like ono of these.' Mat. vi. 28, 29. Lu. xii. 27-29. Thus, therefore, these pillars show, that as the apostles should be fitted and qualified for their work, they should be also freed from cares and worldly cumber; they should be content with God's providing for them, even as the goodly lilies are. And as thus prepared, they were set in the front of the house, for all ministers to see and learn, and take example of them how to behave themselves as to this world in the per- forming of their office. And that which gives us further light in this is, t!iat this lily work is said, by divine institution, to be placed ' over against the belly,' the belly of the pillars, a type of ours. 1 Ki. vii. 20. The belly is a craving thing; and these things, saith the text, were placed over against the belly, to teach that they should not humour, but put check unto the havings and cravings of the belly; or to show that they need not do it, for that he that calls to his work will himself provide for the belly. It is said of the church, that 'her belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.' Ca. vii. 2. To show that she should without covetousness have sufficient, if she would cast all her care upon God, her great provider. This the apostles did, and this is their glory to this day. ' So was the work of the pillars finished.' To live lily lives, it seems, is the glory of an apostle, and the completing of their office and service for God. But this directly opposite to the belly, over against the belly, and this makes it the harder work. But yet, so living is the way to make all that is done sweet-scented, to those that be under this care. Covetousness makes a minister smell fro wish,1 and look more like a greedy dog, than an apostle of Jesus Christ. Judas had none of this lily work ; so his name stinks to this day. ' He that grows like the lily shall cast forth his scent like Lebanon, his branches shall spread, and his beauty shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon. Ho. xiv. 6. Thus lived Christ, first ; and thus the apostles, next; nor can any other as to this, live like, or be compared to them. They coveted no man's silver or gold, or apparel. They lived like lilies in the world, and did send forth their scent as Lebanon. Thus you see of whom these pillars were a shadow, and what their height, their chapiters, 1 Frowish, or frowzy, fetid, musty. Alas! how many mini- sters there are who are afflicted with this unsavoury smell. -(En.) VOL. III. their bowls, their nets, their chains, their pome- granates, and their lily work did signify, and how all was most sweetly answered in the antitype. These were men of the first rate; the apostles, I mean, were such. XVIII. Of the fashion of the Temple. Of the length and breadth of the temple I shall say nothing; but as to the height thereof, there methinks I see something. The temple was higher than the pillars, and so is the church than her officers ; I say, consider them singly as officers, though inferior as to gifts and office; for, as I said before of ministers in general, so now I say the same of the apostles, though as to office they were the highest, yet the temple is above them. Gifts and office make no men sons of God ; as so, they are but servants, though these were servants of the highest form. It is the church, as such, that is the lady, a queen, the bride, the Lamb's wife; and prophets, apostles, and ministers, &c\, are but servants, stewards, labourers for her good. Pa. xiv. 0. ite. six. 7. 1 Co. iii. 5; iv. i, 2. As therefore the lady is above the servant, the queen above the steward, or the wife above all her husband's officers, so is the church, as such, above these officers. The temple was higher than the pillars. Again, as the temple was highest, so it enlarged itself still upward ; for as it ascended in height, so it still was wider and wider ; even from the lowest chambers to the top. The first chambers were but five cubits broad, the middle ones were six, but the highest were seven cubits. 1 Ki. vi. 5, 6. The temple therefore was round about above some cubits wider than it was below; for 'there was an enlarging and winding about still upward to the side chambers, for the winding about - went still upward round about the house; therefore the breadth of the house was still upward, and so increased from the lowest chambers to the highest, by the midst. Eze. xli. 7. And this was to show us that God's true gospel temple, which is his church, should have its en- largedness of heart still upward, or most for spiritual and eternal things: wherefore he saith, ' Thy heart shall fear and be enlarged,' that is, be most affected with things above, ' where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.' is. lx. 5. CoL iii 1. Indeed it is the nature of grace to enlarge itself still upward, and to make the heart widest for the things that are above. The temple therefore was narrowest downwards, to show that a little of earth, or this world, should serve the church of God. And having food and raiment, let us be therewith content. But now, upwards, and as to heavenly things, we are commanded to be covetous, as to them, and after them to enlarge ourselves, both by the fashion SO 474 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. of the temple, as by express words, l Ki. iv. 29. is. lx. 5. Phi. iii. 14. 1 Co. xii. 31. 1 Ti. vL 8. Fs. cxix. 32. Since, then, the temple was widest upward, let us imitate it, and have our conversation in heaven. Let our eyes, our ears, our hands, and hearts, our prayers, and groans, be most for things above. Let us open our mouths, as the ground that is chapt doth for the latter rain, for the things that are eternal. Job xxix. 23. Ps. lxxxi. 10. Observe again, that the lowest parts of the temple were the narrowest part of the temple ; so those in the church who are nearest, or most con- cerned with earth, are the most narrow-spirited as to the things of God. But now let even such a one be taken up higher, to above, to the upper- most parts of the temple, and there he will be en- larged, and have his heart stretched out. For the temple, you see, was widest upwards ; the higher, the more it is enlarged. Paul being once caught up into paradise, could not but be there enlarged. 2 Co. xii. One may say of the fashion of the temple, as some say of a lively picture, it speaks. I say, its form and fashion speaks; it says to all saints, to all the churches of Christ, open your hearts for heaven, be ye enlarged upwards! I read not in Scripture of any house, but this that was thus enlarged upwards; nor is there any- where, save only in the church of God, that which doth answer this similitude. All other are widest downward, and have the largest heart for earthly things. The church only is widest upward, and has its greatest enlargements towards heaven. XIX. Of the outward glory of the Temple. I do also think, that as to this, there was a great expression in it ; I mean, a voice of God, a voice that teacheth the New Testament church to carry even conviction in her outward usages that, I say, might give conviction to the world. And besides this of its enlarging upwards, there was such an outward beauty and glory put upon it, as was alluring to beholders. The stones were curi- ously carved, and excellently joined together; its outward show was white and glittering, to the dazzling of the eyes of the beholders ; yea, the disciples themselves were taken with it, it was so admirable to behold. Hence it is said, they came to Christ to show him the building of the temple. ' Master,' said they, ' see what manner of stones, and what buildings are here.' lint. raw. 1. Mar. xui. 1. l be safe from fear of evil ! Here therefore vou see are chambers for rest, chambers for safety, cham- bers for treasure, chambers for solace, and cham- bers for durable habitations. 0 the rest and peace that the chambers of God's high house will yield to its inhabitants in another world ! Here they will * rest from their labours,' ' rest in their beds,' rest with God, rest from sin, temptation, and all sorrow. Re. xiv. 13. Is. lvii. l, 2. 2 Hi. i. 7. God therefore then shall wipe all tears from our eyes, even when he comes out of his chamber as a bridegroom, to fetch his bride, his wife unto him thither, to the end they may have eternal solace together. 0 these are far better than the chambers of the south ! XXXV. Of the stairs by luhich they went up into the chambers of the Temple. There were stairs by which men went up into these chambers of the temple, and they were but one pair, and they went from below to the first, and so to the middle, and thence to the highest chambers in the temple. 1 Ki. vi. 8. Eze. xli. 7. 1. These stairs were winding; so that they turned about, that did go up them. So then, he that assayed to go into these chambers, must turn with the stairs, or he could not go up, no, not into the lowest chambers. 2. These stairs therefore were a tyrpe of a two- fold repentance. That by which we turn from nature to grace, and that by which we turn from the imperfections which attend a state of grace to glory. Hence true repentance, or the right going up these turning stairs, is called repentance to salvation; for true repentance stoppeth not at the reception of grace; for that is but a going up these stairs to the middle chambers. 2 Co. vii. 10. Thus, therefore, the soul, at its going up the:-e stairs, turns and turns, till it enters the doors of the highest chambers. It groans, though in a state of grace, because that is not the state of glory. I count then, that from the first to the middle chambers may be a type of turning from nature to grace. But from the middle to the highest, these stairs may signify a turning still from the imper- fections and temptations that attend a state of grace, to that of immortality and glory. 2 Co v. 1—9. For as there are turning stairs, from the lowest to the middle chambers, so the stairs from thence still turn, and so will do, till you come to the high- est chambers. I do not say that they that have received grace, do repent they received grace; but I say they that have received grace, are yet sorry that grace is not consummate in glory; and hence they are for going up thither still, by these turning- stairs; yea, they cannot rest below, as they would, SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 483 till they ascend to the highest chambers. ' 0 ■wretched man that I am!' And ' in this we groan earnestly,' is the language of gracious souls. Ro. vii. 24. 2 Co. v. 1—3. True, every one doth not do thus that conies into the temple of God; many rest below stairs, they like not to go turning upward. Nor do I believe that all that bid fair for ascend- ing to the middle chambers, get up to the highest stories, to his stories in the heavens. Many in churches, who seem to be turned from nature to grace, have not the grace to go up, turning still; but rest in that show of things, and so die below a share in the highest chambers. All these things are true in the anti-type, and, as I think, prefigured by these turning stairs to the chambers of the temple. But this turning, and turning still, displeases some much; they say it makes them giddy; but I say, there is no way like this, to make a man stand steady; stedfast in the faith, and with boldness in the day of judg- ment. For he has this seated in his heart ; I went up by the turning stairs, till I came to the highest chambers. A strait pair of stairs are like that ladder by which men ascend to the gallows ; they are the turning ones that lead us to the heavenly mansion-houses. Look, therefore, you that come into the temple of God to worship, that you stay not at the foot of these turning stairs, but go up thence; yea, up them, and up them, and up them, till you come to the view of the heavens ; yea, till you are possessed of the highest chambers! How many times has God, by the Scripture, called upon you to turn, and told you, you must turn or die! and now here he has added to his call a figure, by placing a pair of turning stairs in his temple, to convict your very senses, that you must torn", if you mean to go up into his holy chambers, and so into his eternal mansion-houses ; and look that you turn to purpose ; for every turning will not serve. Some turn, but not to the Most High; and so turn to no purpose. XXXVI. Of the molten sea that was in the Temple. There was also a molten sea in the temple ; it was made of brass, and contained three thousand baths.1 2 Ch. w. 2— in. This sea was for the priests to wash in when they came into the temple to ac- complish the service of God; to wash their hands and feet at, that they might not, when they came thither, die for their unpreparedness. The laver also which was in the wilderness was of the same use there. Ex. xxx. 1. It was, as may be supposed, called a sea, for that it was large to contain ; and a sea of brass, for that it was made thereof. It is called in Re- 1 A bath was a Hebrew measure containing about seven gallons and a half. — (Ed.j velations a sea of glass, alluding to that in the wilderness, which was made of the brazen looking- glasses of women that came to worship at the door of the tabernacle. Re. iv. g; xv. 2. Ex. xxxviii. 8. 2. It was also said to be molten, because it was made of that fashion, by fire; and its anti-type therefore is said to be a sea of glass mingled with fire. Re. xv. 2. (1.) This sea was a figure of the word of the gospel, in the cleansing virtue of it ; which virtue then it has when mingled with the fire of the Holy Ghost. And to this Christ alludes, when he saith, ' Now ye are clean through the word which 1 have spoken unto you.' Jn. xv. s. (2.) It was a figure of the word, without mixture of men's inventions; hence it is called ' pure water.' Having your 'bodies washed with pure water.' And again, He sanctifies and cleanseth his church ♦ with the washing of water by the word.' Bp. v. 26. Tit. iii. s. All these places are an allusion to the molten sea, at which of old they washed when they went into the temple to worship. Therefore, saith he, being washed, let us draw near to God. He. x. 22. 3. This sea from brim to brim was complete ten cubits ; perhaps to show that there is as much in the word of the gospel to save, as there is in the ten- words to condemn. 4. From under this sea round about appeared oxen, ten in a cubit did compass it round about. 2 cu. iv. 3. Understand by these oxen ministers, for to them they are compared in l Co. ix. 8— 10. And then we are taught whence true ministers come ; to wit, from under the power of the gospel, for this sea breeds gospel ministers, as the waters breed fish. 5. It is also said in the text, that these oxen were cast when the sea was cast; insinuating that when God ordained a word of grace to save us, he also in his decree provided ministers to preach it to us to that end. Paul tells us, that he was made a minister of the gospel, • according to God's eter- nal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord.' Ep. iii. 9—11. Col. i. 25. 6. This sea is said to have a brim like the brim of a cup. To invite us as well to drink of its grace, as to wash in its water. For the word and Spirit when mixed, has not only a cleansing, but a saving quality in it. 2 Ch. iv. 1—5. l Cor. xv. l, 2. 7. This brim was wrought with lilies, or was like a lily flower; to show how they should grow and flourish, and with what beautiful robes they should be adorned, who were washed, and did drink of this holy water. Yea, that God would take care of them, as he also did of lilies, and would not fail to bestow upon them what was necessary for the body, as well as for the soul. Mat. vi 28-84. The moral law often commandments.— (Ed.) 484 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. XXXVII. Upon ivhat the molten sea stood in the Temple. 1. This molten sea stood upon the backs of twelve brazen bulls or oxen. 2 ch. iv. 4. 2. These oxen, as they thus stood, looked three towards the north, three towards the west, three towards the east, and three towards the south. 3. These twelve oxen were types of the twelve apostles of tho Lamb, who, as these beasts, stood looking into the four corners of the earth, and were bid to go preach the gospel in all the world. 4. They were compared to oxen, because they were clean ; for the ox was a clean beast. Hence the apostles are called holy. They were compared to oxen, because the ox is strong; and they also were mighty in the word. rr. xiv. 4. 2 Co. xii. 12. 5. The ox will not lose what he has got by drawing ; he will not let the wheels go back ; so the apostles were set to defend, and not let that doctrine go back, which they had preached to others ; nor did they, they delivered it pure to us. 6. One of the cherubs of which you read in the vision had a face like an ox, to show that the apostles, these men of the first order, are most like the angels of God. Eze. i. 10. 7. In that they stood with their faces every way, it was, as I said, to show how the apostles should carry the gospel into all the world. Mat. xxvHL 19, 20. Mar. xvi. 15—18. 8. And observe, just as these oxen were placed looking in the temple every way, even so stand open the gates of the New Jerusalem to receive those that by their doctrine should be brought into it. 'And they shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.' Lu.xiii.20. Re. xxi. 13, 14. 9. These oxen bear this molten sea upon their hacks, to show that they should be the foundation workmen of the gospel, and that it ought not to be removed, as was the molten sea of old, from that basis to another. 1U. It is also said concerning those oxen that thus did bear this molten sea, that all their hinder parts were inwards, that is, covered by that sea that was set upon their backs ; their hinder parts, or, as the apostle has it, 'our uncomely parts.' 1 Co. xiii. 23, 24. 11. And, indeed, it becomes a gospel minister to have his uncomely parts covered with that grace which by the gospel he preacheth unto others. As Paul exhorts Timothy to take heed unto himself, and to his doctrine, l Ti. iv. 6. 12. But alas! there are too, too many who, can they but have their heads covered with a few gospel notions, care not though their hinder parts are seen of all the world. But such are false ministers; the prophet calls them 'the tail.' * The prophet that speaketh lies, either. by word or with his feet, he is the tail.' Is. ix. 15. Pr. vi. 12, 13. 13. But what a shame is it to hide his head under this molten sea, while his hinder parts hang- out. Such an one is none of Christ's oxen ; for they, with honour to their Master, show their heads before all the world, for that their hinder parts are inward, covered. 14. Look to thy hinder parts, minister, lest, while thy mouth doth preach the gospel, thy naked- ness and shame be seen of those which hear thee. For they that do not observe to learn this lesson themselves, will not teach others to believe the Word, nor to live a holy life ; they will learn of them to show their shame, instead of learning to be holy. XXXVIII. Of the lavers of the Temple. Besides this molten sea, there were ten lavers in the temple ; five of which were put on the right side, and five also on the left. 2 ch. iv. 6. 1. Of their fashion and their furniture, you may see. iKi. vii. 38. These lavers, as the molten sea, were vessels which contained water ; but they were not of the same use with it. True, they were both to wash in ; the sea to wash the worshippers, but the lavers to wash the sacrifice. ' He made the ten lavers to wash in them such things as they offered for the burnt-offering, but the sea was for the priests to wash in.' 2 cu. iv. 6. 2. The burnt- offering was a type of the body of Christ, which he once offered for our sins ; and the fire on which the sacrifice was burned, a type of the curse of the law which seized on Christ when he gave himself a ran- som for us. For, therefore, that under the law was called the burnt-offering, because of the burning upon the altar. Le. vi. 9. But what, then, must we understand by these lavers, and by this sacrifice being washed in them, in order to its being burned upon the altar ? I answer, Verily, I think that the ten lavers were a figure of the ten commandments ; in the purity and perfection of Christ's obedience to which he became capable of being made a burnt-offering, acceptable to God for the sins of the people. Christ was made under the law, and all his acts of obe- dience to God for us were legal, and his living thus a perfect legal life was his washing his offering in these ten lavers, in order to his presenting it upon the altar for our sins. The lavers went upon wheels, to signify walking feet ; and Christ walked in the law, and so became a clean offering to God for us. The wheels were of the very same as were the lavers, to show that Christ's obedience to the law I was of the same, as to length and breadth, with its commands and demands to their utmost tittle i and extent. The inwards and legs of the burnt- SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 4^; offering were to Le washed in these lavers, Lc. i. 9, ! 13. sch.iv.6; to show that Christ should he pure J and clean in heart and life. We know that obedience, whether Christ's or ours, is called ' a walking in the way,' typified by the lavers walking upon their wheels. But I mean not hy Christ, his washing of his offering, that he had any filtbinesa cleaving to his nature or ohe- dience; yet this I say, that so far as our guilt laid upon him could impede, so far he wiped it off by washing in these lavers. For his offering was to he without blemish, and without spot to God. Hence it is said, he sanctified himself in order to his suffering. ' And being made perfect, he be- came the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him.' Jn. xvii. 19. lie. v. g— lo. For albeit he came holy into the world, yet that holiness was but preparatory to that by which he sanctified himself, in order to his suffering for sin. That, then, which was his immediate preparation for his suffering was his obedience to the law, his washing in these lavers. lie, then, first yielded complete obedience to the law on our behalf, and then, as so qualified, offered his washed sacrifice for our sins without spot to God. Thus, therefore, he was our burnt-offering washed in the ten lavers, that he might, according to law, be accepted of the Lord. And he set five of the lavers on the right side of the house, and five of them on the left. Thus were the ten divided, as the tables of the law, one showing our duty towards God, the other our duty towards our neighbour ; in both which the burnt- offering was washed, that it might be clean in both respects. They might also be thus placed, the better to put the people in mind of the necessity of the sanction of Christ according to the law, in order to his offering of himself an offering to God for us. XXXIX. Of the talks in the Temple. ' lie made also ten tables, and placed them in the temple, five on the right hand,1 and five on the left. ' 2 Cli. iv. 8. Some, if not all of these tables, so far as I can see, were they on which the burnt-offering was to be cut in pieces, in order to its burning. These tables were made of stone, of hewn stones, on which this work was done. Eze. ri. 40—43. Now, since the burnt-offering was a figure of the body of Christ, the tables on which this sacrifice was slain must needs, I think, be a type of the heart, the stony heart, of the Jews. For had they not had hearts hard as an adamant, they could not have done that thing. Upon these tables, therefore, was the death of 1 This is from the Genevan or puritan versiou. Our trans- lation has ' on the right side.'— (LvD.) Christ contrived, and this horrid murder acted ; even upon these tables of stone. In that they are called tables of hewn stone, it may be to show that all this cruelty was acted under smooth pretences, for hewn stones are smooth. The tables were finely wrought with tools, even as the heart of the Jews were with hypocrisy. But alas, they were stone still ; that is, hard and cruel ; else they could not have been an anvil for Satan to forge such horrid barbarism upon. The tables were in number the same with the lavers, and were set by them to show what are the fruits of being devoted to the law, as the Jews were, in opposition to Christ and his holy gospel. There flows nothing but hardness and a stony heart from thence. This was showed in its first writing; it was writ on tables of stone, figures of the heart of man ; and on the same tables, or hearts, was the death of Jesus Christ compassed. One would think that the meekness, gentleness, or good deeds of Jesus Christ might have procured in them some relentings when they were about to take away his life ; but alas, their hearts were tables of stone ! What feeling or compassion can a stone be sensible of ? Here were stony hearts, stony thoughts, stony counsels, stony contrivances, a stony law, and stony hands ; and what could be expected hence but barbarous cruelty indeed? * If I ask you,' said Christ, 'ye will not answer me, nor let me go. ' Lu. \x\\. 68. In that these stony tables were placed about the temple, it supposeth that they were temple-men, priests, scribes, rulers, lawyers, t them away, I say, with fear, zeal, care, revenge, and with great indignation, and then your church, your conversation, your fingers, and all, will be kept white and clean. 2 Co. vii. 11. XL VI. Of the golden tongs belonging to the Temple. There were also tongs of gold used in the temple of old. 1 Ki. vii. 49. 1. These tongs were used about the altar, to order the fire there. 2. They were used too about the candlestick, and are therefore called His tongs. 3. Perhaps there were tongs for both these services ; hut of that the word is silent. But what were they used about the candlestick to do? Answ. To take holy fire from off the altar to light the lamps withal. For the fire of the temple was holy fire, such as at first was kindled from 490 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. heaven, and when kindled, maintained by the priests, and of that the lamps were lighted. Le.ix.34. 2 Ch. vii. l. Nor was there, upon pain of death, any other fire to be used there. Lc x. l, 2. These tongs, therefore, were used to take fire from off the altar to light the lamps and candlesticks withal. For to trim the lights, and to dress the lamps, was Aaron's work day by day. He shall light and order the lamps upon the pure candlestick before the Lord, and Aaron did so. He lighted the seven lamps thereof, as the Lord commanded Moses. Ex. x. 24, 25. Le. xxiv. 2, 3. Nu. viii. 3. What is a lamp or candlestick to us, if there be not light thereon; and how lighted without fire, and how shall we take up coals to light the lamps withal, if we have not tongs prepared for that purpose? With these tongs fire also was taken from off the altar, and put into the censers to burn sweet incense with, before the Lord. The tongs then were of great use in the temple of the Lord. But what were the tongs a type of? The altar was a type of Christ; the fire of the Holy Ghost ; and these tongues were a type of that holy hand of God's grace, by which the coals, or several dispensations and gifts of the Holy Ghost, are taken and given to the church, and to her members, for her work and profit in this world. Tongs, we know, are used instead of fingers; wherefore Aaron's golden tongs were a type of Christ's golden fingers. Ca v. 14. Isaiah saith that one of the seraphims flew to him with ' a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar.' Here the type and antitype, to wit, tongs and hand, are put together, is. vi. c. But the prophet Ezekiel, treating of like matters, quite waives the type, the tongs, and speaketh only of this holy hand ; ' And he spake unto the man clothed with linen, and said, Go in between the wheels under the cherub ' — where the mercy-seat stood, Avhere God dwelt, Ex. xxv. rs. lxxx. 1 ; — ' and fill thy hand with coals of fire from between the cherubims.' Eze. x. 2. Thus you see our golden tongs are now turned into a golden hand ; into the golden hand of the man clothed in linen, which is Jesus Christ, who at his ascension received of God the Father the Spirit in all fulness, to give, as his divine wisdom knew was best, the several coals or dispensations thereof unto his church, for his praise, and her edification. Mat. iiL n. Ac. ii. It is by this hand also that this holy fire is put into our censers. It is this hand also that takes this coal, therewith to touch the lips of ministers, that their words may warm like fire ; and it is by this hand that the Spirit is given to the churches, as returns of their holy prayers. Lu. xi. 9-13. Ko. viii. 26. Re. viii. 5. It was convenient that the fire in the temple should be disposed of by golden tongs ; but the Holy Ghost, by the golden hand of Christ's grace, for that can wittingly dispose of it, according as men and things are placed, and to do and be done in the churches; wherefore he adds, 'And one cherub stretched forth his hand from between the cherubims, unto the fire that was between the cherubims, and took thereof, and put ii into the hands of him that was clothed with linen, who took it and went out.' Eze. x. 7. By this hand, then, by this Man's hand, the coals of the altar are disposed of, both to the lamps, the candlesticks, the censers, and the lips of ministers, according to his own good pleasure. And of all this were the tongs in the temple a type. XLVII. Of the altar of incense in the Temple. The alter of incense was made first for the tabernacle, and that of shittim wood ; but it was made for the temple of cedar, and it was to be set before the veil, that is, by the ark of the tes- timony, before the mercy-seat; that is, at the entering of the holiest, but not within. And the priest was to approach it every morning, which, as to the holiest, he might not do. Besides, when he went in to make an atonement, he was to take fire from off that altar to burn his incense within the holy place. Ex. xxx. l— in. Le. xvi. 18. 1. It was called the golden altar, because it was overlaid with pure gold. This altar was not for burnt-offering, as the brazen altar was ; nor for the meat-offering, nor the drink-offering, but to burn incense thereon. Ex. xxx. 7. Which sweet incense was a type of grace and prayer. Ps. cxU. ii. 2. Incense, or that called incense here, was not a simple but a compound, made up of sweet spices called stacle, onycha, and galhanmn ; and these three, may answer to these three parts of this duty, to wit, prayer, supplication, and intercession. Ex. xxx. 34—37 ; xxxvii. 29. 1 Ti. ii. 1. 3. This incense was to be burned upon the altar every morning ; upon that altar which was called the altar of incense, which was before the veil; to show that it is our duty every morning to make our prayer to God by Jesus Christ before the veil ; that is, before the door of heaven, and there to seek, knock, and ask for what we need, accord- ing to the word. Lu. xi. 9—13. 4. This incense was to be kindled every morn- ing, to show how He continueth interceding for us, and also that all true praise of men to God is by the work, the renewed work, of the Holy Ghost upon our hearts. Ko. viii. 26. 5. Incense, as you see, was made of sweet spices, such as were gummy, and so apt to burn with a smoke, to show, that not cold and flat, but hot and fervent, is the prayer that flows from the spirit of faith and grace. Zee. xii. 10. Je. v. 16. 6. The smoke of this incense was very sweet SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 491 nud savoury, lite pleasant perfume, to show how delightful and acceptable the very sound and noise of right prayer is unto the nostrils of the living God, because it comes from a broken heart, rs. n. 17. Ca. ii. 14. 7. This incense was to be offered upon the golden altar, to show us that no prayer is accepted but what is directed to God in the name of his holy and blessed Son our Saviour. iPe. ii. 5. He. xlil. 15. 8. They were commanded to burn incense every morning upon this altar, to show that God is never weary of the godly prayers of his people. It also showeth that we need every day to go to God for fresh supplies of grace to carry us through this evil world. 9. This altar, though it stood without the veil, to teach us to live by faith, and to make use of the name of Christ, as we find it recorded in the first temple, yet was placed so nigh unto the holiest, that the smell of the smoke might go in thither ; to show that it is not distance of place that can keep the voice of true prayer from our God, the God of heaven; but that he will be taken with what we ask for according to his word. It stood, I say, nigh the veil, nigh the holiest; and he that burnt incense there, did make his approach to God. Hence the Psalmist, when he spake of praying, saith, ' It is good for me to draw near to God.' Ps lxxiii. 28. He. x. 22. 10. This altar thus placed did front the ark within the veil ; to put us in mind that the law is kept therein from hurting us ; to let us know also that the mercy-seat is above, upon the ark, and that God doth sit thereon, with his pardon in his hand to save us. 0 ! what speaking things are types, shadows, and parables, had we but eyes to see, had we but ears to hear ! He that did ap- proach the altar with incense of old aright — and then he did so when he approached it by Aaron, his high-priest — pleased God ; how much more shall we have both person and prayers accepted, and a grant of what we need, if indeed we come as we should to God by Jesus Christ. But take heed you approach not to a wrong altar ; take heed also that you come not with strange fire; for they are dangerous things, and cause the worship- pers to miss of what they would enjoy. But more of this in the next particular. XLVIII. Of the golden censers belonging to the Temple. There were also golden censers belonging to the temple, and they were either such as belonged to the sons of Levi in general, or that were for Aaron and his sons in special. No. *vi c, n.is. The censers of the Levites were a type of ours ; but the censer of Aaron was a type of Christ's. The censers, as was hinted before, were for this use in the temple, namely, to hold the holy fire in, on which incense was to be burned before the Lord. Le. x. l, 2. These censers then were types of hearts. Aaron's golden one was a type of Christ's golden heart, and the censers of the Levites were types of other worshippers' hearts. The fire also which was put therein was a type of that Spirit by which we pray, and the incense that burnt thereon, a type of our desires. Of Christ's censer we read, Revelations the eighth, which is always filled with much in- cense ; that is, with continual intercessions, which he offereth to God for us ; and from whence also there always goes a cloud of sweet savour, cover- ing the mercy-seat. Le.nri.lS. He.vii.26. Re.viii. 3,4. But to speak of the censers, and fire, and in- cense of the worshippers; for albeit they were all put under one rule, that is, to be according to law, yet oftentimes, as were the worshippers, such were the censers, fire, and incense. 1. Hence the two hundred and fifty censers with which Korah and his company offered, are called the censers of sin- ners ; for they came with wicked hearts then to burn incense before the Lord. Nu. xvi. 17, 37. 2. Again, as the censers of these men were called the censers of sinners, showing they came at that time to God with naughty hearts, so the fire that was in Nadab and Abihu's censers is called strange fire, which the Lord commanded them not. Le. x. 1. 3. This strange fire was a type of that strange spirit opposed to the Spirit of God, in and by which, notwithstanding, some adventure to perform worship to God. 4. Again, as these censers are called the censers of sinners, and this fire called strange fire, so the incense of such is also called strange, and is said to be an abomination unto God. Ex. xxx. 9. Is. i. 13 ; lxvi. 3. Thus you see that both the censers, fire, and incense of some is rejected, even as the heart, spirit, and prayer of sinners are an abomination UlltO God. Ho. vii. 14 ; iv. 12 ; v. 4. Pr. xxviii. 9. But there were besides these true censers, holy fire and sweet incense among the worshippers in the temple, and their service was accepted by Aaron their high-priest; for that was through the faith of Christ, and these were a type of our true gospel worshippers, who come with holy hearts, the holy spirit, and holy desires before their God, by their Redeemer. These are a perfume in hid nose. ' The prayer of the upright is his delight.' Pr. xv. 8. Their prayers went up like 'incense, and the lifting up of their hands as the evening sacri- fice.' Ps. c.\li. 2. Let them then that pretend to worship before God in his holy temple look to it, that both their censers, fire, and incense, heart, spirit, and desires, be such as the word requires ; lest, instead of re- ceiving of gracious returns from the God of heaven, their censers be laid up against them; lest the 493 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. fire of God devours them, and their incense become an abomination to him, as it happened to those made mention of before. But it is said the censers of Korah and his com- pany "was hallowed. Answ. So is God's 'worship, which is so his by his ordination, yet even that very worship may be spoiled by man's transgression. Prayer is God's ordinance, but all prayer is not accepted of God. We must then distinguish between the thing com- manded, and our using of that thing. The temple was God's house, but was abused by the irreverence of those that worshipped there, even to the demol- ishing of it. A golden censer is a gracious heart, heavenly fire is the Holy Ghost, and sweet incense the effec- tual fervent prayer of faith. Have you these ? These God expects, and these you must have if ever your persons or performances be of God accepted. XLIX. Of the golden spoons of the Temple. 1. The golden spoons belonging to the temple were in number, according to Moses, twelve ; answering to the twelve tribes. Nu. vii. 86. But when the temple was built, I suppose they were more, because of the number of the basons. 2. The spoons, as I suppose, were for the wor- shippers in the temple to eat that broth -withal, wherein the trespass-offerings were boiled : for which purpose there were several cauldrons hanged in the corners of that court called the priest's to boil them in. 1 Sa. ii. 13, 14. Eze. xlvi. 19, 20. 3. Now, in that he saith here were spoons, what is it but that there are also babe3 in the temple of the Lord. There was broth for babes as well as meat for men, and spoons to eat the broth withal. 4. True, the gospel being more excellent than the law, doth change the term, and instead of broth, saith, There is milk for babes. But in that he saith milk, he insinuates there are spoons for children in the church. 5. 'I could not,' saith Paul to them at Corinth, ' speak to you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with milk and not with meat ; for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able.' l Co. iii. 1, 2. 6. See, here were need of spoons, milk is spoon meat ; for here were those which could not feed themselves with milk, let them then that are men eat the strong meat. • For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness, for he is a babe. But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who, by reason of use, have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil.' He. v. iu, i*. 7. Spoons, you know, are to feed us with weak and thin food, even with that which best suitetli with weak stomachs, or with a babyish temper. Hence, as the strong man is opposed to the weak, so the milk is opposed to the strong meat. 8. So then, though the babe in Christ is weaker than the man in Christ, yet is he not by Christ left unprovided for; for here is milk for babes, and spoons to eat it with. All this is taught us by the spoons; for what need is there of spoons where there is nothing to eat but strong meat ? 9. Babes, you know, have not only babyish stomachs, but also babyish tricks, and must be dealt withal as babes; their childish talk and frompered carriages must be borne withal. 10. Sometimes they cry for nothing, yea, and count them for their foes which rebuke their childish toys and ways. All which the church must bear, because they are God's babes; yea, they must feed them too : for if he has found them milk and spoons, it is that they may be fed there- with, and live : yea, grown ministers are God's nurses, wherefore they must have a lap to lay them in, and knees to dandle them upon, and spoons to feed them with.1 11. Nor are the babes but of use in the church of God ; for he commands that they may be brought to cry with the congregation before the Lord for mercy for the land. Joel u. 18. 12. Incense, I told you, was a type of prayers, and the spoons, in the time of Moses, were pre- sented at the temple full of it. Perhaps to show that God will, with the milk which he has provided for them, give it to them as a return of their crying to him, even as the nurse gives the child the teat and milk. 13. You know the milk is called for when the child is crying, as we say, to stop its mouth with it. 0 babes ! did you but cry soundly, God would give you yet more milk. 14. But what were these golden spoons a type of? I answer, if the milk is the juice and con- solations of the Word, then the spoons must be those soft sentences and golden conclusions with which the ministers feed their souls by it. ' I have fed you,' saith Paul, ' with the milk of the Word;' saith Peter, ' even as you have been able to bear it.' Compare these two or three texts — iPe.ii.i-3. 1 Co. iii 2. 1 Th. ii. 7. 15. And this is the way to strengthen the weak 1 Great was the fatherly care felt by Bunyan for his own children, especially for his blind Mary; and judging by the lessons he draws from the temple spoons, those feelings ex- teuded to his church. It must be a severe trial to a minister's temper, when teased with babes in religion at three score and ten years of age, especially if they are old professors. Thus Bunyan, in addressing the readers of his emblems, says — ' We now have boys with beards, and girls that be ' Huge as old women wanting gravity.' — (Ed.) SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 493 Viands, and to confirm the feeble knees. This is the way to make them grow to he men who now are hut as infants of days. ' Thus a littlo one shall become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation.' Yea, thus in time you may make a little child to jostle it with a leopard ; yea, to take a lion by the beard ; yea, thus you may embolden him to put his hand to the hole of the asp, and to play before the den of the cockatrice. l9.xi.G-8; u.22. Who is most stout was once a babe ; he that can now eat meat was sometimes glad of milk, and to be fed with the spoon. Babes in Christ, therefore, must not be despised nor overlooked ; God has provided them milk and spoons to eat it with, that they may grow up to be men before him. L. Of the bowls and basons belonging to the Temple. As there were spoons, so there were bowls and basons belonging to the temple. Some of these were of gold, and some of silver ; and when they were put together, their number was four hundred and forty. These you read of, Ezr. i. 10. The bowls or basons were not to wash in, as was the sea and lavers of the temple ; they were rather to hold the messes in, which the priests at their holy feasts did use to set before the people. This being so, they were types of that proportion of faith by which, or by the measure of which, every man received of the holy food for the nourishment of his soul. For, as a man, had he a thousand messes set before him, he eating for his health, cannot go beyond what his stomach will bear ; so neither can the child of God, when he comes to worship in the temple of God, receive of the good things that are there, beyond the ' proportion of his faith.' Ro.xii.6. Or, as it is in another place, according to ' the ability which God giveth.' 1 Pe. iv. 11. And hence it is, at the self-same ordinance, some receive three times as much as others do ; for that their bowl, I mean their faith, is able to receive it. Yea, Benjamin's mess was five times as big as was the mess of any of his brethren ; and so it is with some saints while they eat with their brother Joseph in the house of the living God. There are three go to the same ordinance, and are all of them believers ; who, when they come home, and compare notes, do find their receivings are not of the same quantity. One says, I got but little ; the other says, It was a pretty good ordinance to me ; the third says, I was exceeding well there. Why, to be sure, he that had but little there, had there but little faith ; for great faith in him would have received more. He had it then according to the largeness of his bowl, even according to his faith, ' as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.' Ro. x\l 3. Mark, faith is a certain measure, and that not only as to its de- gree, but for that it can receive, retain, or hold what is put into it. So then, here it is no matter how much milk or holy broth there is; but how big is thy bowl, thy faith. Little bowls hold but little, nor canst thou receive but as thy faith will bear ; I speak now of God's ordinary dealing with his people, for so he saith in his Word, ' According to your faith be it unto you.' Mat. ix. 29. If a man goeth to the ocean sea for water, let him carry but an egg-shell with him, and with that he shall not bring a gallon home. I know, indeed, that our little pots have a promise of being made like the bowls of the altar; but still our mess must be according to our mea- sure, be that small, or be it great. The same prophet saith again, the saints shall be ' filled like bowls, and as the corners of the altar;' which, though it supposes an enlargement, yet it must be confined to that measure of faith which is provided for its reception. Zee. ix. 35; xiv. 20. And suppose these bowls should signify the promises, though the saints, not the promises, are compared to them, because they, not promises, are the subjects of faith ; yet it is the promise by our measure of faith in that, that is nourishing to our souls. When Ahasuerus made a feast to his subjects, they drank their wine in bowls. They did not drink it by the largeness of the vessel whence they drew it, but according to their health, and as their stomachs would so receive it. Es. i. 7, s. Thy faith, then, is one of the bowls or basons of the temple, by, or according to which, thou receivest thy mess, when thou sittest feasting at the table of God. And observe, all the bowls were not made of gold, as all faith is not of a saving sort. It is the golden faith that is right ; the silver bowls were of an inferior sort. ne. iii. is. Some, I say, have golden faith ; all faith is not so. Wherefore look to it, soul, that thy bowl, thy faith, be golden faith, or of the best kind. Look, I say, after a good faith, and great, for a great faith receives a great mess. Of old, beggars did use to carry their bowls in their laps, when they went to a door for an alms.1 Consequently, if their bowls were but little, they ofttimes came off by the loss, though the charity of the giver was large. Yea, the greater the charity, the larger the loss, because the beggar's bowl was too little. Mark it well, it is ofttimes thus in the matters of :, a beggar at God's 1 The degraded state of the poor, when the religious houses (so called) distributed food to all comers, was long felt at'U-r tin- suppression of those hot-beds of vice, from the encouragement they gave to idleness, pauperism, and the most vicious habits. Even in Bunyan's days the beggar, carrying a bowl to receive the fruit of their industrious" neighbours' toil, was still re- membered. At intervals, plague and famine swept away the helpless wretches, to the terror of all classes. How severely is this curse still felt in Ireland.— (Ed.) 494 SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. door, be sure thou gettest a great bowl ; for as thy bowl is, so will be thy mess. ' According to your faith,' saith he, ' be it unto you.' Mat. ix. 29. LT. Of the flagons and cups of the Temple. The next thing to be considered is the flagons and cups of the temple ; of these we read, 1 ch. xxviii. 17. Je. Hi. 19. is. xxii. 24. These were of great uso among the Jews, especially on their feasting days ; as of their sabbaths, new-moons, and the like. Le.xxiii. 13. Nu. xxviii. 7. 1 Ch.xvi. 3. Is. xxv. 6; Ixii. 8, 9. For instance, the day that David danced before the ark, 'he dealt among all the people, even among the whole multitude of Israel, as well to the women as men, to every one a cake of bread, and a good piece of flesh, and a flagon of ' itine.'' 2Sa vi.19. iCh.xvi.3. •In this mountain,' that is, in the temple typically, saith the prophet, • shall the Lord of hosts make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined.' Is. xxv. 6. These are feasting times ; the times in which our Lord used to have his spouse into his wine-cellar, and in which he used to display with delight his banner over her head in love. Ca. ii. 4, 5. The church of Christ, alas! is of herself a very sickly puely thing ; a woman ; a weaker vessel ; but how much more must she needs be so weak, when the custom of women is upon her, or when she is sick of love? Then she indeed has need of a draught, for she now sinks, and will not else be supported. ' Stay me with flagons,' saith she, ' and comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.' Ca. ii. 5. These flagons, therefore, were types of those feastings, and of those large draughts of Divine love, that the Lord Jesus draweth for and giveth to his spouse in those days that he feasteth with them. For then he saith, • Drink, yea, drink abundantly, 0 beloved.' This he does to cheer her up under her hours of sadness and dejection ; for now new 'com shall make the young men cheerful, and new wine the maids. ' Pr. xxxi. c, 7. Ps. cxvl 13. Je. xvi. 7. Ca. v. Zee. ix. 17. As there were flagons, so there were cups; and they are called cups of consolation, and cups of salvation, because, as I said, they were they by which God at his feastings with his people, or when he suppeth with them, giveth out the more large draughts of his love unto his saints, to revive the spirits of the humble, and to revive the hearts of the contrite ones. At these times God made David's cup run over. For we arc now admitted, if our faith will bear it, to drink freely into this grace, and to be merry with him. Ps. xxiii. 5. Lu. xv. 22 -24. Ca. v. 1; vii. 11, 12. Jn. xiv. 23. He. iii. 20. This is that to which the apostle alludeth, when he saith, • Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be filled with the Spirit; speaking to yourselves in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart unto the Lord.' Ep. v. 18, 19. For the cups, as to their use in the general, understand them as of the bowls made mention of before. For assurances are the blooms and flowers of faith, not always on it, though usually on feast- ing days it is so. So the degree of the one is still according to the measure of the other. Ja.v. ito.xv. 13. LII. Of the chargers of the Temple. In the tabernacle they had but twelve of them, and they were made of silver; but in the temple they had in all a thousand and thirty. The thirty were made of gold, the rest were made of silver. Ezr. \. 9. Nu. vii. 84. These chargers were not for uses common or profane, but, as I take it, they were those in which the passover, and other meat-offer- ings, were drest up, when the people came to eat before God in his holy temple. The meat, you know, I told you, was opposite to milk ; and so are these chargers to the bowls, and cups, and flagons of the temple. The meat was of two sorts, roast or boiled. Of that which was roasted was the passover, and of that which was boiled were the trespass-offerings. Wherefore, concerning the passover, he saith, ' Eat not of it raw, nor sodden at all with water, but roast with fire ; his head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof.' Ex. xii. 9. This roast meat was a type of the body of Christ as suffering for our sins, the which, when it was roast, was, and is as dressed up in chargers, and set before the con- gregations of the saints. But what were the chargers a type of? I also ask, in what charger our gospel passover is now dressed up and set before the people? Is it not in the four evangelists, the prophets, and epistles of the apostles? They therefore are the chargers and the ordinance of the supper ; in these also are the trespass-offerings, with what is fried in pans, mystically prepared for the children of the Highest. And why might they not be a type of gospel sermons? I answer, I think not so fitly ; for, alas! the best of sermons in the world are but as thin slices cut out of those large dishes. Our ministers are the carvers, good doctrine is the meat, and the chargers in which this meat is found are the holy canonical Scriptures, that the house of the forest of Lchanon was forty cubits more than was that called Solomon's temple: The breadth of Solomon's temple was twenty cubits, but tho breadth of the house of the forest of Lebanon was fifty cubits: And as there is odds between threescore and fivescore, so there is also between twenty and fifty. As to their height, they were both alike ; but equality in height can no more make them the same, than can a twenty years' age in two, make them one and the same person. Their porches also differed greatly; the porch of the temple was in length but twenty cubits, but the length of that of the house of the forest of Lebanon was fifty cubits. So that here also is thirty odds.1 The porch of the temple was but ten cubits broad; but the porch of the house of the forest of Lebanon thirty cubits. Now, I say, who that considereth these disproportions, can conclude that the house of the forest of Lebanon was none other than that called the temple of Jerusalem. For all this com- pare 1 Ki. vi. 2, s, with vii. 2, 6. Third. If you add to these the different makes of the houses, it will sufficiently appear that they were not one. The house of the forest of Lebanon was built upon four rows of cedar pillars ; but we read of no such pillars upon which the temple stood. The windows of the house of the forest of Lebanon stood in three rows, light against light ; but we read of no such thing in the temple. The temple had two pillars before the door of its porch, but we read not of them before the door of the porch of the house of the forest of Lebanon. In the sixth and seventh chapters of the first book of Kings, these two houses, as to their make, are exactly set forth; so that he that listeth may search and see, if as to this I have not said the truth. CHAP. II. OF WHAT TITE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON WAS A TYPE. That the house of the forest of Lebanon was a house significant, I think is clear; also, if it had not, we should not have had so particular an ac- count thereof in the holy Word of God : I read but o; four buildings wherein, in a particular manner, the houses or fabrics are, as to their manner of building, distinctly handled. The tabernacle is one, the temple another ; the porch which he built for his throne, his throne for judgment; and this house of the forest of Lebanon is the fourth. Now the three first, to wit, the tabernacle, the temple, the porch and throne, wise men will say are typical; and therefore so is this. 1 A common expression for difference. — ' 'What's the odds between us?' — [Ed.) VOL. 111. [First.] I will therefore take it for granted that the house of the forest of Lebanon is a significative thing, yea, a figure of the church, as the temple at Jerusalem was, though not under the same con- sideration. The temple was a figure of the church under the gospel, as she relateth to worship ; but the house of the forest of Lebanon was a figure of that church as she is assaulted for her worship, a3 she is persecuted for the same. Or take it more expressly thus: I take this house of the forest of Lebanon to be a typo of the church in the wilder- ness, or as she is in her sackcloth state. We read, before this house was built, that there was a church in the wilderness; and also, after this house was demolished, that there would be a church in the wilderness. Ac. vii. 88. Re.xii. 14. But we now respect that wilderness state that the church of the New Testament is in, and conclude that this house of the forest of Lebanon was a type and figure of that; that is, of her wilderness state. And, methinks, the very place where this house was built does intimate such a thing; for this house was not built in a town, a city, &c., as was that called the temple of the Lord, but was built in a kind of a wood, a wilderness ; it was built in the forest of Lebanon, unto which that saying seems directly to answer. ' And to the woman,' the church, ' were given two wings of a great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness into her place.' Re. xii. H. A wilderness state is a desolate, a tempted, an afflicted, a persecuted state. Je. ii. 6. All which is more than intimated by the witnesses wearing of, and prophesying in sackcloth, and also expressed of by that Re. xii. Answerable to this is that of the prophet con- cerning this house of the forest of Lebanon, where he says, ' Open thy doors, 0 Lebanon ! that the fire may devour thy cedars.' And again, ' Howl, fir-tree ; for the cedar is fallen.' Zee. xi. i, 2. What can be more express ? The prophet here knocks at the very door of the house of the forest of Lebanon, and tells her that her cedars are designed for fire; unto which also most plainly answer the flames to which, so many of the cedars of Lebanon,- God's saints, I mean, for many hundred years, have been delivered for their profession; and by which, as 2 The churches of Christ have suffered under hitter perse- cution, and been in a wilderness state, from the primitive times, through Popish days, and under the relentless cruelties Buffered by the Covenanters aud Nonconformists from the ( Ihurch of England. As the gospel spreads, it human Boftens the hearts even of the rebellious. The dread fire no longer consumes the cedars of Lebanon. Still there remains the contemptuous sneer, the scorn, the malice of the soul, against Christ and his spiritual seed. Not many years since the two daughters of an evangelical clergyman, a D.D., came out, from strong aud irresistible conviction, and united with one of the straitest sects of Dissenters- the Plymouth Bret hren. The unhappy parent could not brook the insult to his order, aud died insane. — (Ed.) 6a 514 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. another prophet has it, for many days they have fallen. Da. A 33. Also when the king of Assyria came up with his army against Jerusalem, this was his vaunting, ' I am come - to the sides of Lebanon, and I will cut down, the tall cedars thereof.' ls.xxxvii.24. What was this king of Assyria hut a type of the beast made mention of in the New Testament ? Now, saith he, I will cut down the cedars of Le- banon ; who are, in our gospel times, the tall ones of the church of God. And I say again, in that he particularly mentions Lebanon, he intends that house which Solomon built there, the which was built as a fortification to defend the religion of the temple, as the saints now in the wilderness of the people are set for the defence of the gospel. But more of this anon. This house therefore was built to make assaults, and to be assaulted, as the church in the wilder- ness is ; and hence the state of this house is com- pared to the condition of a woman in travail, struggling with her pains, as also we find the state of the church in the wilderness is — ' 0 inhabitant of Lebanon, that makest thy nest in the cedars, how gracious shalt thou be when pangs come upon thee, the pain as of a woman in travail! ' Je. jaii.23. And again, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, That ye shall weep and lament,' and have sorrow, as a woman in travail. Jn. xvi. 20-22. Much answering her case who, in her travails, and while ' pained to be delivered,1 was said even in this case to stand before the dragon, who with open mouth sought to destroy her fruit, so 'soon as it was born.' Re.xii. l-c. Hence, again, when Christ calls his spouse out to suffer, he calls or draws her out of his house in Lebanon, to look 'from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards,' to the things that are invisible ; even as Paul said when he was in afflic- tion, ' We look not at the things which are seen.' Ca. iv. 8. 2 Co. iv. is. He draws them out thence, 1 say, as sheep appointed for the slaughter; yea, he goeth before them, and they follow him thither. Also, when the prophet foretells the affliction of the church, he expresses it by the fall of the cedars of Lebanon, saying, The Lord shall cut down the thickets of the forest with iron ; a little afore called the axe and saw. And Lebanon shall fall by a mighty one. is. x. 15, 34. And again, ' The earth mourneth and languisheth : Lebanon is ashamed and hewn down.' is. xxxm. 9. Do we think that the prophet prophesieth here against trees, against the natural cedars of Le- banon ? No, no, it is a prophecy touching the afflicted state of the church in the wilderness, of which Lebanon, I mean this house of the forest of Lebanon, was a figure. When God also threateneth the enemies of his church in the wilderness with his judgments, for their cruel dealing with her in the day of her de- sertion, he calls those judgments the violence of Lebanon. That is, by way of comparison, such as the violence done to Lebanon was. ' The violence of Lebanon shall cover thee; and the spoil of beasts which made them [Lebanon] afraid, because of men's blood, and for the violence of the land, of the city, and of all that dwell therein.' Hat>. n. 17. This is like that, ' Reward her, even as she re- warded you, and double unto her double according to her works.' Re. xviii. 6. This the church doth by her prayers. ' The violence done to me and to my flesh be upon Babylon, shall the inhabitant of Ziou say ; and my blood upon the inhabitants of Chaldea, shall Jerusalem say.' Je. n. 35. And then shall be fulfilled that which is written, Look what they did unto Lebanon shall be done unto them. Ob. 15. Eze. xxxv. 14, 15. God has his time to return the evil that the ene- mies do to his church, and he will do it when his time is come upon their own head; and this return is called the covering of them with the violence of Lebanon, or that violence showed to her in the day of her distress. It is yet further evident that, this house of the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church in the wilderness: — 1 . For that she is called a tower, or place of for- tification and defence; the same term that is given to the church in a captivated state. Ca. ril.4. lfl.iT. 8-m. For as the church in the wilderness is compared to a woman in travail, to show her fruitfulness to God-ward in her most afflicted condition; so she is called a tower, to show her fortitude and courage, for God and his truth, against antichrist. 1 say therefore, unto both these is she compared in that scripture last cited, the which you may peruse if you please. A tower is a place of receipt for the afflicted, and so is the church under the rage of antichrist; yea, and though it is the only place de- signed by the enemy for ruin and destruction, yet it is the only place of safety in the world.1 2. This tower, this house of the forest of Le- banon, it seems to be so built as to confront Dam- ascus, the chief city of the king of Assyria; and in so doing it was a most excellent type of the spirit and design of the church in the wilderness, who is raised up, and built to confront antichrist. Hence Christ calls some of the features of his church, and compares them to this. ' Thy neck,' says he ' is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fish-pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Lath-rabbim; 3 Bunyan not ouly experienced the richest enjoyments in jail, but it is very probable that his life was saved for a lew- years by his having lain in prison during the violent heat and storm of persecution which raged in the early part of the reign of Charles ii. Thus God mysteriously restrains the wrath of man, and makes it to praise him. The damp unwholesome dungeon, intended for his destruction, crowned him with pecu- liar honour, because, as in his Patmos, he there wrote his immortal book. — (Eu.j THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 515 thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.' Ca. vfl. 4. Thy nose, that great ornament of thy lovely coun- tenance, is as a tower looking that way ; so set, as Christ says of his, as a flint. And this is a comely feature in the church, that her nose stands like a tower, or as he says in another place, like a fenced brazen wall against Damascus, the metro- politan of her enemy: 'for the head of Syria is Damascus.' is. vu. s. And as Christ thus compares his church, so she again returns, or compares the face of her Lord to the same, saying, ' His legs areas pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold : his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.' Co. v. is. Thus in Lebanon, in this brave house, is found the ex- cellency of the church, and the beauty of Christ, tor that they are both as a rock, with glory and majesty, bended against the enemies of the truth. 4 The face of the Lord is against them that do evil.' Pillars his legs are here compared to, and pillars were they that upheld this house, this tower, which thus bravely was built with its face confronting the enemy's country. Second. That this house of the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church in affliction, yet further appears, for that at the fall of Babylon her cedars are said to rejoice in special. ' The fir-trees rejoice at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, Since thou art laid down, no feller is come up against us.' u xiv. 8. This is at the destruction of Babylon, the type of that called antichrist. But why should Lebanon, the cedars in Lebanon, in an especial manner here, be said to rejoice at his downfall: doubtless to show that as the enemy made his inroad upon Jerusalem; so in a particular manner Lebanon, and the house there, were made to smoke for it. Is. xxxvii. 24. Je. xxii. 23. Zee. si. i. This answereth to that, ' Rejoice over her thou heaven; and ye holy apostles and prophets, for God hath avenged you of her.' Hence again, when he speaks of giving glory to his afflicted church, for all the sorrow which she hath sustained in her bearing witness for the truth against antichrist, he calls it the glory of Lebanon. That is, as I take it, the glory that belongs to her, for the afflictions which she underwent for his name. ' The glory of Le- banon shall be given unto it.' Is. xxxv. 2. And again, 'The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee.' is. be. is. These are promises to the church for her suffering of affliction, and they are made unto her as she bears the name of Lebanon, who or which was her type in those havocs made in it, when the enemy, as I said, assaulted the church of old. Thus by these few lines I have showed you that there was a similitude betwixt this house in the forest of Lebanon, and our gospel church in the wilderness. Nor need we stumble because this word house is not subjoined in every particular place, where this sorrow or joy of Lebanon is made mention of; for it is an usual thing with the Holy Ghost, when lie directs his speech to a man, to speak as if he spake to a tree ; and when he directs his voice to a king, to speak as if he intended the kingdom; so when he speaks of the house, to speak as to the forest of Lebanon. Instances many might be given. CHAP. III. OF THE LARGENESS OF THE IIOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. The house of the forest of Lebanon was forty cubits longer than was the temple at Jerusalem, to show that the church in the wilderness would in- crease more, and be far larger than she that had peace and prosperity. And as it was forty cubits longer, so it was thirty cubits wider, still showing that every way she would abound. Hence they that came out of great tribulation, when compared with others, are said to be a numberless number, or a multitude which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues. ' These,' saith one, ' are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb; there- fore are they before the throne of God.' Re. vii. 14,15. The church, as it respected temple-worship, was confined to the land of Canaan ; but our New Tes- tament persecuted one is scattered among* the nations, as a flock of sheep are scattered in a wood or wilderness. Hence they are said to be in ' the wilderness of the people,' fitly answering to this house of the forest of Lebanon. Eze. xx. 35-:;?. But though the house exceeded in length and breadth the temple of Jerusalem, yet as to their height they were the same, to show that what acts that in the wilderness doth, above what they have been capable to do, that have not been in that condition; yet the nature of their grace is the same. Ro. xv. 27. 1 Pe. i. 1. But, I say, as for length and breadth, the church in the .wilderness exceeds more than the house of the forest of Lebanon did that of the temple at Jerusalem, as it is written ; ' More are the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife, saith the Lord.' And again : ' Thou shalt break forth on the right hand and on the left; and thy seed shall inherit the Gentiles, and make the desolate cities to be inhabited.' is. Br. 1-3. This is spoken of the church iu the wilderness, that was made up chiefly of the Gentiles, of which the house of the forest of Lebanon was a figure; and how she at last shall recover herself from the yoke and tyr- anny of antichrist. And then she shall shoulder it with her adversary, saying, ' Give place to n.e, that I may dwell.' Is. slut -u 51 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. And I will add, it was not only thus magnificent for length and breadth, but for terror; it was compacted after the manner of a castle, or strong- hold, as was said before. It was a tower built for an armoury, for Solomon put there his two hundred targets and three hundred shields of gold. s Ch. fc. 10, in. This place therefore was a terror to the heathen, on that side of the church especially, because she stood 'with her nose so formidable against Damascus: no marvel therefore if the implacable cried out against them, Help, 'men of Israel, help!' And, 'Will ye rebel against the king?' Ac. xxi. 2S. Ne. ii. 19. For it is the terror, or majesty and fortitude, which God has put upon the church in the wilder- ness, that makes the Gentiles so bestir them to have her under foot. Besides, they misapprehend concerning her, as if she was for destroying kings, for subverting kingdoms, and for bringing all to desolation, and so they set themselves against her, ' crying, These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also; whom Jason hath received : and these all do contrary to the decrees of C?esar, saying that there is another king, one Jesus.' Ac. xvii. 5-7. Indeed, the very name of Jesus is the very tower of the Christain church, and that by which she frights the world, but not designedly, but through their misunderstanding; for neither she, nor her Jesus, is for doing them any hurt ; however, this is that which renders her yet in their eye ' terrible as an army with banners.' Ca. vi. io. How then could she escape persecution for a time, for it was the policy of Jeroboam. 1 ia. xii. 26-28. And it is yet the policy of the nations to secure themselves against this their imagined danger, and therefore to use all means, as Pharaoh did, to keep this people low enough, saying, 'Come j on, let us deal wisely with them, lest they mul- : tiply, and it come to pass that when there falleth out any war, they join also to our enemies, and fight against us, and so get them up out of the land.' Ex. i. io. But could the house of Lebanon, though a for- tified place, assault Damascus? Could it remove from the place on which God had set it? It only was a place of defence for Judah, or for the wor- ship of the temple. And had the adversary let the temple-worship and worshippers alone, the shields and targets in the house of the forest of Lebanon had not been uncovered, had not been made bare against them. The same may now be said of the church in the wilderness, she moveth no sedition, she abideth in her place ; let her temple-worshippers but alone, and she will be as if she were not in the world ; but if you afflict her, ' Fire proceedeth out of their mouth and devoureth their enemies; and if any man will hurt them, he must in this manner be killed.' Re. xi. o. And so die by the sword of the Spirit. But because the weapons of the church, though none of them are carnal, be so talked of in the world, the blind are yet more afraid of her than they in this manner are like to be hurt by her, and therefore they of old have peeled,1 and polled, and endeavoured to spoil her all along, sending their servants, and saying to their bailiffs and sheriffs, ' Go - to a nation scattered and peeled, to a people terrible from their beginning, - a nation meted out and trodden down, whose land the rivers have spoiled !' is. xviii. 2. But this people shall prevail, though not by worldly force ; her God will deliver her. And then, or at ' that time, shall the present be brought to the Lord of hosts of a people scattered and peeled, and from a people terrible from their beginning hitherto; a nation meted out and trodden under foot, whose land the rivers have spoiled, to the place of the name of the Lord of hosts, the Mount Zioil.' Is. xviii. 7. Now thus did the house of the forest of Lebanon provoke ; it was built defensively, it had a tower, it had armour; its tower confronted the enemy's land. No marvel then, if the king of Assyria so threatened to lay his army on the sides of Lebanon and to cut down the tall cedars thereof, is. xxxvii. 24. The largeness, therefore, and prowess of the church, by reason of her inherent fortitude and the valorous acts that she hath done by suffering, by prayer, by faith, and a constant enduring of hardship for the truth, doth force into the world a belief, through their own guilt and clamours of conscience against them for their debaucheries, that this house of the forest of Lebanon will destroy them all when she shall be delivered from her ser- vitude. ' Come now, therefore,' saith Balak to Balaam, and 'curse me this people,' if peradven- ture I may overcome them: when he-might have let them pass peaceably by, and they would not have lifted up a finger against him. Wherefore, from all these things it appears that the house 0^ the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church iu, the wilderness, CHAP. IV. OF THE MATERIALS OF WHICH THE nOUSE OF TEE FOREST OF LEBANON WAS MADE. The foundation of the house of the forest of Lebanon was of the same great stones which were laid in the foundation of the temple of the Lord. 1 Ki. vii. 2-n. And this shows that the church in the wilderness has the same foundation and sup- port as had the temple that was at Jerusalem, though in a state of sackcloth, tears, and afflic- 1 Pill, to rob; poll, to exact, to extort. ' The church pilled and polled bv its own flocks.' — (bouth, Ser. 11. v. 5.J- (Ed.) THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 517 tion, the lot of the church in the wilderness ; for she, while there, is to howl. Zee. xi. 2. Now since the foundation is the same, what is it but to show also that she, though in an afflicted condition, shall certainly stand ; ' The gates of hell shall not pre- vail against it.' Mat xvl is. Her confronting idola- trous nations is therefore a sign of her troubles, not any prediction of a fall. Her rock is stead- fast, not like the rock of her adversaries, the enemy being judges. De.xzsii.8i. But that which in special I take notice of is, that I find, in a manner, in this house of the forest of Lebanon, nothing hut pillars, and beams, great timber, and thick beams, and of those was the house budded;. pillars to hold up, and thick beams to couple together, and thus was the house finished. I read not here of any garnishing, either of the pillars, beams, doors, posts, walls, or any part of the house; all was plain, without garnish, fitly representing the state of the church in the wilder- ness, which was clothed with sackcloth, covered with ashes, wearing her mourning weeds, with her tears upon her cheeks, and a yoke or band about her neck. is. m. 1, 2 ; ui. 3. By this kind of description we may also note with what kind of members this house, this church is furnished. Here, as I said, that is, in the house of the forest of Lebanon, you find pillars, pillars, so in the church in the wilderness. 0 the mighty ones of which this church was compacted! they were all pillars, strong, bearing up the house against wind and weather; nothing but fire and sword could dissolve them. As therefore this house was made up of great timber, so this church in the wilderness was made up of giants in grace. These men had the faces of lions ; no prince, no king, no threat, no terror, no torment, could make them yield; they loved not their lives unto the death. They have laughed their enemies in the face, they have triumphed in the flames. They were pillars, they were pillars of cedar : the cedar is the highest tree in the world ;l where- fore in that this house was made of cedar, it may be to denote that in the church in the wilderness, however contemned by men, was the highest per- fection of goodness, as of faith, love, prayer, holy conversation, and affection for God and his truth. For indeed none ever showed the like, none ever showed higher cedars than those that were in Leb- anon. None ever showed higher saints than were they in the church in the wilderness. Others talked, these have suffered ; others have said, these have done ; these have voluntarily taken their lives in their hands, for they loved them not to the death; 1 Maundrel measured a cedar which was thirty-six feet six- inches in girth, and one hundred aud eleven feet in the spread of its boughs ; the foliage is ever green, and it mounts up to an enormous height. — (En.) and have fairly, and in cool blood, laid them down before the world, God, angels, and men, for the confirming of the truth which they have professed. Ac. xv. 26. Re. xiL H. These are pillars, these are strong ones indeed. It is meet, therefore, that the church in the wilderness, since she was to resemble the house of the forest of Lebanon, should be furnished with these mighty ones. Cedars ! the same that the holiest of all in the temple was covered within, and that house was a figure of heaven, to show that the church of God in the wilderness, how base and low soever in the judgment of the world, is yet the only heaven that God hath among the children of men. Here are many nations, many kingdoms, many countries, and many cities, but the church in the wilderness was but one, and she was the heaven that God has here ; hence she is called, ' Thou heaven. Rejoice over her thou heaven.' Re.xviii.20. And again, when the combustion for religion is in the church in the wilderness it is said to be in heaven — ' And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon ; and the dragon fought, and his angels.' rte. xii 7. The church therefore loseth not all her titles of honour, no, not when at the lowest, she is God's heaven still ; though she may not be called now a crown of glory, yet she is still God's lily amongst thorns; though she may not be called the church of Jerusalem, yet she may the church in the wil- derness ; and though she may not be called Solo- mon's temple, yet she may the house of the forest of Lebanon. Cedars ! cedars are tall and sweet, and so are the members of the church in the wilderness. 0 their smell, their scent, it hath been 'as the wine of Lebanon.' Ho. riv. 5-7. They that have gone before have left this smell still in the nostrils of their survivors, as that both fragrant and precious. This house of the forest of Lebanon was builded ' upon four rows of cedar pillars. ' 1 Ki. vii. 2. These four rows were the bottom pillars, those upon which the whole weight of the house did bear. The Holy Ghost saith here four rows, but says not how many were in a row. But we will suppose them to allude to the twelve apostles, or to the apostles and pro- phets, upon whose foundation the church in the wilderness is said to be built. Ep. a. 20. And if so, then it shows that as the house of the forest of Lebanon stood upon these four rows of pillars, as the names of the twelve tribes stood in four rows of precious stones upon Aaron's breastplate when he went into the holiest, so this house, or church in the wilderness, stauds upon the doctrine of the apostles and prophets. Ex. xxviii. 17 ; xxxix. 10. But because it only saith it stood upon four rows, not specifying any number, therefore as to this we may say nothing certain, yet I think such a conjecture 518 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. hath some show of truth in it, however, I will leave it to wiser judgments. ' And it -was covered with cedar above, upon the beams that lay on forty-five pillars, fifteen in a row.' 1 Ki. vii. 3. These pillars, as the others, are such upon which the house did also bear ; this is clear, because the beams that lay upon the four rows of pillars afore-mentioned lay also upon these forty-five. It seems, therefore, that these four rows of pil- lars were they that were the more outside ones ; that is, two rows on this side of the house and two ix»ws also on that; and that those forty-five pillars, fifteen in a row, stood in three rows more inward, and so did bear up with the other the beams that were laid upon them, much like to those inner pillars that usually stand in our parish churches. If so, then the first four rows did seem to be a guard to these, for that, as they stood more to the outsides of the house, so more to the weather, and nearer to the first approach of the enemy. And this may show that the apostles in their doctrine are not only a foundation to the forty-five pillars, but a protection and. defence ; I say a pro- tection and defence to all the pillars that ever were besides in the church in the wilderness. And it is to be considered that the four rows are men- tioned as placed first, and. so were those upon which the thick beams that first were for coupling of the house were laid ; the which most fitly teacheth that the office and graces of the apostles were first in the church in the wilderness, accord- ing to 1 Co. xii. lb. These forty-five pillars standing in the midst, by the others, may also be to show that in the time of the trouble of the church in her wilderness *tate, there will be those that will stand by and maintain her apostolical doctrine, though for so doing they bear the burthen of the whole. But I read of no chambers for ease or rest in this house, here is no room for chambering. They that were for being members in the church in the wilderness, must not look for rest until their Lord shall come. Ro. xiii. 13, 14. 2 Th. i. 5-9. Here therefore was but hard lodging ; the house of the forest of Lebanon was not made for tender skins and for those that cannot lie out of down beds, but for those that were war-like men, and that were willing to endure hardness for that re- ligion that God had set up in his temple, and is fitly auwered by that of the apostle: ' Thou, there- fore,' my son, 'endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life, that he may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier.' 2 Ti.il. 8, 4. Forty-five pillars! It was forty-five years that the church was of old in a bewildered and warlike condition before she enjoyed her rest in Canaan. Jos. xiv. 10. Now, as there were forty- five years of trouble, so here are forty-five pillars for support, perhaps to intimate that God will have in his church in the Avilderness a sufficient succes- sion of faithful men that, like pillars, shall bear up the truth above water all the time of Antichrist's reign and rage. The thick beams that lay over-thwart to couple this house of the forest of Lebanon together, did bear upon these forty-five pillars, to show that, by the burden-bearers that have and shall be in the church of God in the wilderness, the unity of that house is through the Spirit maintained. And in- deed, had it not been for these pillars, the sufferers, these burden-bearers in the church, our house in the forest of Lebanon, or, more properly, our church in the wilderness, had before this been but in a poor condition. Thus therefore this church, which in her time is the pillar and ground of truth in the world, has been made to stand and abide it. ' When the blast of the terrible ones has been as a storm against the wall.' is. xxv.4. 1 Ti. m. 15. ' Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth, may Israel now say : many a time have they afflicted me from my youth : yet they have not prevailed against me.' Ps. cxxix. i, 2. Thus you see how the house of the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church in the wilder- ness ; and you see also by this the reason why the house of the forest of Lebanon had its inward glory lying more in great pillars and thick beams than in other ornaments. And indeed, here had need be pillars and pillars and beams and beams too, since it was designed for assaults to be made upon it, since it was set for a butt for the marksman, and to be an object for furious heathens to spend their rage against its walls. The glory therefore of the temple lay in one thing, and the glory of this house lay in another : the glory of the temple lay in that she contained the true form and modes of worship, and the glory of the house of the forest of Lebanon lay in her many pillars and thick beams, by which she was made capable, through good management, to give check to those of Damascus when they should attempt to throw down that worship. And as I said before, these pillars were sweet- scented pillars, for that they were made of cedar; but what cared the enemy for that, they were of- fensive to him, for that they were placed as a for- tification against him. Nor is it any allurement to Satan to favour the mighty ones in the church in the wilderness for the fragrant smell of their sweet graces, nay, both he and his angels are the more bent to oppose them because they are so sweet-scented. The cedars therefore got nothing because they were cedars at the hands of the bar- barous Gentiles — for they would burn the cedars THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 19 — as the angels or pillars got nothing of favour at the hands of Antichrist hecause they are pillars of and angels for the truth, yea, they so much the more hy her are abhorred. Well, hut they are pillars for all that, yea, pillars to the church in the wilderness, as the others were in the house of the forest of Lebanon, and pillars they will abide there, dead and alive, when the enemy has done what he can. The pillars were set in three rows, for so are forty-live when they are set fifteen in a row. And they were set in three rows to bear. This manner also of their standing thus was also doubtless sig- nificant. But again, they, these pillars, may he set, or placed thus in three rows in the house of the forest of Lebanon, to show that the three offices of Christ are the great things that the church in the wilderness must hear up before the world. The three offices of Christ, they are his priestly, his prophetical, and his kingly offices. These are those in which God's glory and the church's sal- vation are most immediately concerned, and they that have been most opposed by the devil and his angels. All heresies, errors, and delusions with which Christ's church has been assaulted in all ages, have bent themselves against some one or all of these. Re. xvi. 13, 16. Christ is a priest to save, a prophet to teach, and a king to rule his clyarch. is. xxxiu. 22. But this Antichrist cannot bear, therefore he attempts to get up into the throne himself, and to act as if he were one above all that is called God, or that is worshipped. 2 Th. a. 3, i. Re. xix. 19-21. But behold! here are pillars in three rows, mighty pillars to bear up Christ in these his offices before the world and against all falsehood and deceit. Fifteen in a row, I can say no further than I can see ; what the number of fifteen should signify 1 know not, God is wiser than man ; but yet me- thinks their standing thus should signify a reserve: as suppose the first three that the enemy comes at should be destroyed by their hands, there are three times fourteen behind ; suppose again that they should serve the next three so, yet there is a reserve behind. When that fine one, Jezebel, had done what she could against the afflicted church in her time, yet there was left a reserve, a reserve of seven thousand that were true worshippers of God. 1 Ki. xix. 18. Ro. xi. 4. Always when Antichrist made his inroads upon the church in the wilderness, to slay, to cut off, and to kill, yet some of the pillars stood, they were not all burnt in the fire, nor cut down. They said indeed, * Come and let us cut them off from being a nation, that the name of Israel may be no more in remembrance.' Ps. lxxxiii. 4. But what then ? there is a difference betwixt saying and doing; the bush was not therefore consumed because it was set on fire; the church shall not be consumed although she be afflicted. Ex. iii. 3. And this reason is, because God has still his fifteens ; therefore if Abel falls by the hand of Cain, Seth is put in his place. Se.lv. 25. If Moses is taken away, Joshua shall succeed him. Jos. i. 2, 3. And if the devil break the neck of Judas, Matthias is at hand to take his office. Aci. la— 20. God has, I say, a suc- cession of pillars in his house ; be has to himself a reserve. Yet again, methinks that there should lie forty- five pillars, and besides them four rows of pillars, and all this to bear up an invisible burden, for we read of nothing upon the pillars but the In and roof. It should be to show that it is impos- sible that a carnal heart should conceive of the weight that truth lays upon the conscience of a believer. They see, nothing, alas, nothing at all, but a beam, a truth, and, say they, are you such fools to stand groaning to bear up that, or what is contained therein ? They, I say, see not the weight, the glory, the weight of glory that is in a truth of God, and therefore they laugh at them that will count it worth the while to endure so much to support it from falling to the ground.1 Great pillars and beams, great saints and great truths, are in the church of God in the wilderness; and the beams lie upon the pillars, or the truth upon the saints. The tabernacle and ark formerly were to be borne upon men's shoulders, even as these great beams are borne up by these pillars. And as this tabernacle and ark were to be carried hither and thither, according to the appointment of God, so were these beams to be by these pillars borne up, that therewith the house might be girt together, kept uniform, and made to stand fast, notwith- standing the wind and storm. CHAP. V. OF TIIE WINDOWS IN THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. The house of the forest of Lebanon had many windows in it ; ' And there were windows in three lows, and light WCt8 against light in three ranks.' l Ki. vii. 4. Windows are to let the light in at, and the eye out at, to objects at a distance from the house, and from those that are therein. 1 It is one of the strongest proofs that the human mind is red by sin, that man is by nature senseless lo the sublime truths of Christianity— the beam, the truth which saws the world from utter moral desolation. What wonders open before the eyes of the yuan- convert, streUdunjt far awayinto that, heavenly and eternal felicitj which had been shut out from his vision by the gloom of death Life and im- mortality is brought to light. His life, and aU other things, become but dross, that he may win Christ, and maintain hu cause in the world.— (Ed.) 520 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. The windows here are figures of the Word of God, by which light the light of life is let into the heart; through that, the glass of these windows, the beams of the Sun of righteousness shine into the church. Hence the word is compared to glass, through which the glorious face of Christ is seen. 2C0.ni.i8. This, therefore, this house of the forest of Lebanon had; it had windows, a figure of that Word of God, through, and by which, the church in the wilder- ness sees the mind of God, and so what while there she ought to believe, do, and leave undone in the world. This house had plenty of windows — three rows of windows on both sides the house. In three rows; by these windows in three rows perhaps was prefigured how into the church in the wilderness was to shine the doctrine of the Trinity : yea, to signify that she was to be possessed with that in her most low state, and when under her greatest clouds. The doctrine of the Trinity ! that is the substance, that is the ground and fundamental of all. 1 Jn. ii. 22, 23; iv. 2-4. 2 Jn. 9, io. For by this doctrine, and by this only, the man is made a Christian; and he that has not this doctrine, his profession is not worth a button. You must know that sometimes the church in the wilderness has but little light, but the diminution of her light is not then so much in or as to substantials, as it is as to circumstantial things ; she has then the substantials with her, in her darkest day, even windows in three rows. The doctrine of the Trinity ! You may ask me what that is ? I answer. It is that doctrine that showeth us the love of God the Father, in giving of his Son: the love of God the Son, in giving of himself; and the love of the Lord the Spirit, in his work of regenerating of us, that we may be made able to lay hold of the love of the Father by his Son, and so enjoy eternal life by grace. This doc- trine was always let in at these windows into the church in the wilderness, for to make her sound in faith, and hearty in obedience ; as also meek and patient in temptation and tribulation. And as to the substance of Christianity, this doctrine is suf- ficient for any people, because it teaches faith, and produceth a good moral life. These therefore, if these doctrines shine upon us, through these win- dows of heaven, so as that we see them, and re- ceive them, they make us fit to glorify God here, and meet to be glorified of, and with him hereafter. These lights, therefore, cause that the inhabitants of this church in the wilderness see their way through the dark pitch night of this world. For as the house of the forest of Lebanon, this church of Go 1 in the wilderness had always her lights, or windows in these three rows, to guide, to solace, and comfort her. This house therefore, is thus discriminated and distinguished from all other houses in the world ; | no house, that we read of in the Bible, was thus adorned with light, or had windows in three rows, but this; and answerable hereunto, no congregation or church, but the true church of God, has the true antitype thereof. Light ! windows ! A suf- ficiency of windows was of great use to a people that dwelt in a forest, or wood, as the inhabitants of the house of the forest of Lebanon did. But how solitary had this house been, had it had no light at all ! To be in a wood, and that without windows, is one of the worst of conditions. This also is the relief that the church in the wilderness had; true, she was in a wood, but had light, called in another place God's rod, or his Word, which giv- eth instruction. • Feed thy people with thy rod, the flock of thine heritage, which dwell solitary in the wood,' &c. Mi. vii. 14. To be, as was said, in a wood, and without light too, is a condition very desolate : the Egyptians found it so, for all they were in their houses. Ex. x. 2i, 23. But how much more then is that people's case to be lamented that are under persecution, but have not light in three rows to guide them. But this is not the state of the church in the wilderness; she has her windows in three rows, to wit, the light of the face of the Father, the light of the face of the Son, and the light of the face of the Holy Ghost; all shining through the windows or glass of the Word, to her comfort and consolation, thouojh now in the forest of Lebanon. 'And light was against light in three ranks.' This is an additional account of the windows that were in the house of the forest of Lebanon. Be- fore he said she had windows in three rows, but now he adds that there was light against light, light opposite to light, and that also in three ranks. In that he saith they were in ranks, he either means in order, or insinuates a military posture, for in both these ways is this word taken. Nu. ii. ig, 24. 1 Ch. xii. .33, 38. Mar. vi. 40. Nor need any smile because I say the lights were set in a military posture; we read of potsherds striving with potsherds; and why may it not as well be said, ' light was against light. ' Is. xlv. 9. But we will pursue our design. Here is opposi- tion insinuated ; in the margin it is ' sight against sight;' wherefore the lights thus placed in the house of the forest of Lebanon give me another encouragement, to think that this house was a type of the church in the wilderness, and that she is the seat of spiritual war also. Re. xii. 7. For as this house of the forest of Lebanon was that which was the object of the rage of the king of Assyria, be- cause it stood in his way to hinder his ruining Jerusalem ; so the spirit and faithfulness of the church of God in the wilderness stands in the way, and hinders Antichrist's bringing of the truth to the around. THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 521 And as the enemy brake into Lebanon, and did set fire to her cedars, so the boar, tbe Antichrist, the dragon, and bis angels, got into tbe church in tbe wilderness. Ps.lxxx.18. 2 Th. ii 4. Re. xii. 7. This being so, here must needs be war ; and since tbe war is not carnal but spiritual, it must be made by way of controversy, contention, disputation, argu- ment, reasonings, «tc. winch were the effect of op- posite apprehensions, fitly set out in this house of tbe forest of Lebanon, for that there was ' light against light,' 'sight against sigbt, ' in three ranks. Wherefore in that he saith ' light was against light in three ranks,' he suggesteth, to the life, how it would be in the church in the wilderness. And suppose they were the truly godly that made the first assault, can they be blamed ? For who can endure a boar in a vineyard ; a man of sin in a holy temple ; or a dragon in heaven ? What then if the church made the first assault ? Who bid the boar come there ? What had he to do in God's house ? The church, as the house of the forest of Lebanon, woidd have been content with its own station; and bread and water will serve a man, that may with peace enjoy his delights in other things. But when privilege, property, life, delight, heaven, and salvation, comes to be intruded, no marvel if the woman, though but a woman, cries out, and set her light against them; had she seen the thief, and said nothing, she had been far worse. I told you before that by the windows is meant tbe Word, which is compared to glass. 1 Co. xiu. 12. 2 Co. in. is. Ja. i. 23-25. What, then, is the Word against the WTord? No, verily, it is therefore not the Word, but opposite apprehensions thereabout, that the Holy Ghost now intends ; for he saith uot that window was against window, respecting the true sense of tbe Word, but light was against light, re- specting the divers notions and apprehensions that men of opposite spirits would have about the Word. Nor are we to take this word light, especially in the antitype, in a proper but in a metaphorical sense, that is, with respect to the judgment of both parties. Here is the true church, and she has the true light ; here also is the boar, the man of sin, and the dragon ; and they see by their way, and yet, as I said, all by tbe self-same windows. They that are the church do, in God's light, see light ; but they that are not, do in their own way see. And let a man, and a beast, look out at the same window, the same door, the same casement, yet the one will see like a man, and the other but like a beast. No marvel then, though they have the same windows, that 'light is against light,' and sight against sight in this house. For there are that know nothing but what they know naturally as brutes. Ps. xcii. G. Je. x. S, 14, 21. Jude 10. No marvel then if there is here a disagreement; tbe beast can but see as a beast, but the church is \Dh. 111. resolved not to be guided by the eye of a beast, though he pretends to have his light by that verv window by which the church has hers. The beast is moon-eyed, and puts darkness for light, yea, and bates the light that is so indeed ;l but the saints will not hear him, for they know the voice of their Lord. Is. v. 20. Jn. iii. 20. How then can it be but that light should be against light in this bouse, and that in a military posture ? And bow can it be but that here 'every battle of the warrior' should be ' with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood.' Is. ix. 5. And in that he saith, ' light was against light in three ranks, ' it shows their preparations one against another; also that they on both sides are resolved to stand by their way. The church is confident, the man of sin is confident ; they both have the same windows to see by, and so they manage their matters ; yet not so simply by the windows, as by their divers judgments they make of that which shinetb in at them. Each one therefore bath the true and false profession, will be confident of his own way ; he that was right, knew he was right ; and he that was wrong, thought be was right, and so the battle began. ' There is a way that seem- eth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. ' Pr. xiv. 12. Nor is it in man to help it; there has been reason- ing, there has been disputing, there has blood also been spilt on both sides, through the confidence that each had of the goodness of his own way ; but no reconciliation is made, the enmity is set here of God; iron and clay cannot mix. Ge. iii. 15. Da. ii. 42,4:!. God will have things go on thus in the world, till his words shall be fulfilled : ' The deceived, and the deceiver, are his.' Job xii. 16. Things therefore must have their course in the church in the wilder- ness, till the mystery of God shall be fulfilled. Re. xvii. 17. Hence it is said God will bring Gog against his people of Israel, 'as a cloud to cover the laud.' Eze. xxxviiL 16. But for what cause ? Why, that he may contend a while with them, and then fall by their light to the ground. Therefore he says also, that he ' will give unto Gog a place there of graves in Israel, and it shall be called the valley of Hamou- gOg. ' Ezc. xxxix. 11. God will get himself great glory by permitting the boar, the man of sin, and the dragon, to revel it in the church of God; for they, by setting up and contending for their darkness and calling of 1 All men have the same Bible, but all have not Bought for spiritual discernmeut. The Beast, whether of Rome, Greece, or England, that looks through the Word to find Borne plaus- ible means of tyrannising over the soul, by preventing man from using his own eyes in seeking salvation, whether it be by church cauons or acts of Parliament interfering with the exer- cise of private judgment, is an enemy to, and hater oi, the true light.— (Ed.) 522 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. it the light, and by setting of it against that light, which is light in very deed, do not only prove the power of truth where it is, but illustrate it so much the more. For as black sets off white, and dark- ness light, so error sets off truth. He that calls a man a horse, doth in conclusion but fix the belief of his humanity1 so much the more in the appre- hension of all rational creatures. ' Light against light in three ranks.' The three ranks on the church's side signify her light in the Trinity, as was said, and in the three offices of Christ ; and the ranks against these three ranks be to signify the opposite apprehensions of the enemy. They differ also about the authority of the Word, and ordinances, about the offices, officers, and exe- cutions of office, in the church, &c. There is an opposition everywhere, even round about the house; there was 'light against light in three ranks.' This house of the forest of Lebanon was therefore a significative thing, wisely built and fit for the purpose for which it was designed, which was to show what afterward would be the state of the church in the wilderness. Nor could anything in the temple more aptly express itself in a typical way, as to any of the things concerning New Testa- ment matters, than doth this house of the forest of Lebanon, as to the things designed to be signified thereby. It speaks, can we but hear : it points to things, as it were with a finger, have we but eyes to see. It is not therefore to be wondered at that we hear both parties plead so much for their authority, crying out against each other, as those that destroy religion. So doth the church, so doth the man of sin. The living child is mine, saith one; nay, but the dead child is thine, and the living child is mine, says the other. And thus they spake before the king. 1 Ki. iii. 16-22. Now this could not be, were there not different apprehensions here; light against light then is the cause of all this; and here is 'light against light in three ranks;' and so will be until the beast is dead. The church will not give place, for she knows she has the truth; the dragon and his angels, they will not give place, but as beaten back by the power of the truth ; for thus it is said of the dragon and his angels, they fought and prevailed not. There- fore there will, there must, there cannot but be a spiritual warfare here, and that until one of the two are destroyed, and their body given to the burning flame. Da. vii. n. Re. xix. 20. 1 Humanity, in its usual acceptation, means the inferiority of man to the divine or angelic nature, hut superiority to the mere animal or hrute creation. ' The nature of man, wherein he is lesse than God Almighty, and excellynge not with- standyng al other creatures in erth, is called humanitie.' — (Sir T. Eliot.) Banyan's illustration of the word is curious.— (En.) CHAP. VI. of the doors and posts, and their square, with the windows of the house of the forest of Lebanon. ' And all the doors and posts were square, with the windows.' The doors, they were for entrance, the posts were the support of the doors, and the windows were, as was hinted before, for light. Now here they are said to be all square ; square is a note of perfection; but this word square may be taken two ways. 1. Either as to the fashion of the things themselves ; or, 2. With reference to the uniform order of the whole. In the first sense was the altar of burnt-offering, the altar of incense, and the breastplate of judg- ment, square. Ex. xxvii. 1 ; xxviii. 16 ; xxx. 2. And so also it is said of our New Testament New Jerusalem. Re. xxi. 16. But the square in the text is not thus to be understood, but if I mistake not, as is signified under the second head, that is for an uniform order. The whole fabric, as the doors, posts, and windows, presented themselves to beholders in an exact uni- form order, and so right delectable to behold. Hence we may gather that this house of the forest of Lebanon was so exactly built, and consequently so complete to view, that it was alluring to the be- holders ; and that the more, for that so pretty a fabric should be found in a forest or wood. A lily among thorns, a pearl on a dunghill, and beauty under a veil, will make one turn aside to look on it. Answerable to this, the church, even in the wil- derness, or under persecution, is compared not only to a woman, but to a comely and delicate woman. And who, that shall meet such a creature in a wood, unless he feared God, but would seek to ravish and defile her. Therefore I say, that which is here said to be square, must be understood to be so, as to prospect and view, or right taking to the eye. Thus therefore they are allured, and think to defile her in the bed of love; but coming to her, and finding of her chaste, and filled with nothing but armour, and men at arms, to maintain her chastity, nolens volens — their fleshly love is turned into cruel rage, and so they go to variance. 'I have likened,' says God, 'the daughter of Zion to a comely and delicate woman.' Je. vi. 2. But where is she ? 0 ! she is in the field, in the forest among the shepherds. But what will they do with her? Why, because she complies not with their desires, they 'prepare war against her,' saying, ' Arise, let U3 go up at noon. Arise, and let us go by night, and let us destroy her palaces.' Je. vi. 4, 5. Wherefore the beauty of the house of the forest of Lebanon, as well as the fortitude thereof, was a temptation to the enemy to come to take it into their possession; especially since it stood, as it were, THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 523 on the borders of Israel, and so facet! tlie enemy's country. Thus the church, though in her weeds of widow- hood, is become the desire of the eyes of the nations; for indeed her features are such, considering who is her head, where mostly to the eye beauty lies, that whoso sees but the utmost glimpse of her, is easily ravished with her beauties. See how the prophet words it — ' Many nations are gathered together against thee, that say, Let her be defiled, and let our eye look upon Zion.' Ml w. n. The church, the very name of the church of God, is beautiful in the world ; and, as among women, she that has beauty has her head desired, if it might be, to stand upon another woman's shoulders; so this, and that, and every nation that beholds the beauty of the church, would fain be called by that name. The church, one would think, was but in a homely dress when she was coming out of cap- tivity ; and yet then the people of the countries desired to be one with her. ' Let us (said they to Zerubbabel, and to the fathers of the church) build with you, for we seek your God as ye do.' Ezr. iv, 3. The very name of the church, as I said, is striven for of the world, but that is the church which Christ has made so; her features also remain with herself, as this comely prospect of the house of the forest of Lebanon abode with it, whoever beheld or wished for it. The beauty therefore of this house, though it stood in the forest, was admirable ; even as is the beauty of the church in the wilderness, though in a bewildered state. Hear the relation that the Holy Ghost gives of the intrinsic beauty of the church, when she was to go to be in a persecuted state ; she was ' clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars.' Re. xii. 1. And yet now the dragon stood by her. Re. xii. t. But I say, Here is a woman! let who will attempt it, show such another in the world, if he can.1 They therefore that have any regard to moral- ity, civility, or to ceremonial comeliness, covet to be of the church of God, or to appropriate that glorious title to themselves. And here, indeed, Antichrist came in ; she took this name to herself; and though she could not come at the sun, nor moon, nor stars, to adorn herself with them, yet she has found something that makes her comely in her fol- lowers' eyes. See how the Holy Ghost sets her forth. She 'was arrn}red in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones, and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand,' s. xiv. g, 7. is. xxxv. 2; lx. 13. Na. i. 4. Lebanon! That was one thing that wrought with Moses to desire that he might go over Jordan; namely, that he might see that goodly mountain, and Lebanon. The glory and excellent beauty of the church, Christ also setteth forth, by comparing of her to Lebanon. « Thy lips, 0 my spouse,' says he, 'drop as the honey-comb: honey and milk are uuder thy tongue, and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.' Ca. iv. n, 15. This house, therefore, being placed here, might be to show how blessed a state God could make the state of his church by his blessed grace and presence, even while she is in a wilderness condition. We will add to this, for further demonstration, that letter of that godly man, Pomponius Algerius, an Italian martyr; some of the words of which are these: — 'Let,' saith he, 'the miserable worldly man answer me ; what remedy or safe refuge can there be unto him if he lack God, who is the life and medicine of all men : and how can he be said to fly from death, when he himself is already dead in sin. If Christ be the way, verity, and life, how can there be any life then without Christ? 'The sooly1 heat of the prison tome is coldness; the cold winter to me is a fresh spring-time in the Lord. He that feareth not to be burned in the fire, how will he fear the heat of weather? Or what careth he for the pinching frost, which burn- etii with the love of the Lord ? 'The place is sharp and tedious to them that be guilty; but to the innocent and guiltless it is melli- fluous. Here droppeth the delectable dew ; here floweththe pleasant nectar; here runneth the sweet milk ; here is plenty of all good things. And al- though the place itself be desert and barren, yet to me it seemeth a large walk, and a valley of pleasure ; here to me is the better and more noble part of the world. Let the miserable worldling say, and confess, if there be any plot, pasture, or meadow, so delightful to the mind of man, as here. Here I see kings, princes, cities, and people ; here I see wars, where some be overthrown, some be victors, some thrust down, some lifted up. Here is Mount Sion ; here I am already in heaven itself. Here standeth first Christ Jesus in the front ; about him stand the old fathers, prophets, and evangelists, apostles, and all the servants of God ; of whom some do embrace and cherish me, some exhort me, some open the sacraments unto me, some comfort me, other some are singing about me: and how then shall I be thought to be alone, among so many, and such as these be, the beholding of whom to me is both solace and example. For here I see some crucified, some slain, some stoned, some cut asun- der, and some quartered, some roasted, some broiled, some put in hot caldrons, some having their eyes bored through, some their tongues cut out, some their skin plucked over their heads, some their hands and feet chopped off, some put in kilns and furnaces, some cast down headlong, and given to the beasts and fowls of the air to feed upon. It would,' said he, 'ask a long time, if I should recite all. 'To be short, divers I see with divers and sundry torments excruciate; yet notwithstanding, all living and all safe. One plaster, one salve cureth all their wounds, which also giveth tome strength and life; so that I sustain all these transitory anguishes and small afflictions with a quiet mind, having a greater hope laid up in heaven. Neither do 1 fear mine adversaries which here persecute me and oppress me, for he that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them to scorn, and the Lord shall deride them. I fear 1 This word was used by Fox in translating the letter of Algerius ; I cannot find it in any dictionary. It probably refers to this poor prisoner for Christ being confined in a ' soler,' or room, close under the roof of his prison, in which an Italian, sun must have rendered the heat intense. The word ' sooly' may be derived from the Anglo-Saxon ' swool,' sultry ; the Dutch use swoet, zoel, and zoelheicl, for heat and sultry heat. -(Ed.) THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 531 not thousands of people which compass me ahout. The Lord my God shall deliver me, my hope, my supporter, my comforter, who exalteth up my head. He shall smite all them that stand up against mc without cause ; and shall dash the teeth and jaws of sinners asunder, for he only i3 all hlessedncss and majesty. 'The rebukes for Christ's cause make us jocund; for so it is written : if ye be rebuked and scorned for the name of Christ, happy bo you; for the glory and spirit of God resteth upon you. 1 Pe. It. Be ye therefore certified (said he, by this his letter to his friends) that our rebukes, which are laid upon us, redound to the shame and harm of the rebukcrs. In this world there is no mansion firm to me ; and therefore I will travel up to the New Jerusalem which is in heaven, and which offereth itself tome, without paying any fine or income. Behold I have entered already in my journey, where my house standeth for me prepared, and where I shall have riches, kinsfolks, delights, honours, never-failing. 1 As for these earthly things here present, they are transitory shadows, vanishing vapours, and ruinous walls. Briefly all is but very vanity of vanities, whereas hope, and the substance of eter- nity to come, are wanting; which the merciful good- ness of the Lord hath given, as companions to ac- company me, and to comfort me ; and now do the same begin to work, and to bring forth fruits in me. I have travelled hitherto, laboured and sweat early and late, watching day and night, and now my travails begin to come to effect. Days and hours have I bestowed upon my studies. Behold the true countenance of God is sealed upon me, the Lord hath given mirth in my heart : and therefore in the same will I lay me down in peace and rest. Ps. iv. And who then shall dare to blame this our age consumed ; or say that our years be cut off? What man can now cavil that these our labours are lost, which have followed, and found out the Lord and maker of the world, and which have changed death with life? My portion is the Lord, saith my soul, and therefore I will seek and wait for him. * Now then, if to die in the Lord be not to die but live most joyfully, where is this wretched world- ly rebel, which blameth us of folly, for giving away our lives to death? 0 how delectable is this death to me ! to taste the Lord's cup, which is an assured pledge of true salvation ; for so hath the Lord him- self forewarned us, saying, the same that they have done to me, they will also do unto you. Wherefore let the doltish world, with his blind worldlings (who in the bright sunshine, yet go stumbling in dark- ness, being as blind as beetles), cease thus unwisely to carp against us for our rash suffering, as they count it. To whom, thus, we answer again, with the holy apostle, that neither tribulation, nor an- guish, nor hunger, nor nakedness, nor jeopardy, nor persecution, nor sword, shall be able ever to separate us from the love of Christ; wo arc slain all the day long; we are made like sheep ordained to the sham- bles. Ro. viii. •Thus,' saith he, 'do we resemble Christ our Head, which said that the disciple cannot be above his master, nor the servant above his Lord. The same Lord hath also commanded that every one shall take up his cross and follow him, Lu.Ix Rejoice, rejoice, my dear brethren and fellow-servants, and be of good comfort, when ye fall into sundry tempta- tions ; let your patience be perfect in all parts. For so it is foreshowed us before, and is written, that they which shall kill you shall think to do God good service. Therefore, afflictions and death be as tokens and sacraments of our election and life to come. Let us then be glad ami sing unto the Lord, when as we, being clear from all just accusations, are persecuted and given to death ; fur better it is that we in doing well do suffer, if it so be the will of God, than doing evil, l Pe. iii. We have for our example Christ and the prophets which spake in the name of the Lord, whom the children of iniquity did quell1 and murder. And now we bless and magnify them that then suffered. Let us be glad and joyous in our innocency and upright- ness ; the Lord shall reward them that persecute us ; let U3 refer all revengement to him. 'I am accused of foolishness, for that I do not shrink from the true doctrine and knowledge of God, and do not rid myself out of these troubles, when with one word I may. 0 the blindness of man, which seeth not the sun shining, neither re- membereth the Lord's words. Consider therefore what he saith, you are the light of the world. A city built on the hill cannot be hid; neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine, and give light to them in the house. And in another place he saith you shall be led before kings and rulers. Fear ye not them which kill the body, but him which killeth both body and soul. Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father which is in heaven ; and he that denieth me before men, him will I also deny before my heavenly Father. ' Wherefore, seeing the words of the Lord be so plain, how, or by what authority, will this wise counsellor then approve this his counsel which he doth give? God forbid that I should relinquish the commandments of God and follow the coun- sels of men. For it is written, Blessed is the man that hath not gone in the way of sinners, and hath not stood in the counsels of the ungodly, and hath not sit in the chair of pestilence. Ps. i." God for- 1 The obsolete verb, to kill.— (En.) 2 This is a curious mode of expressing the awful gradation of a biuuer. 1. To go iu the waj of Binnera. 2. To enter 532 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. bid that I should deny Christ where I ought to confess him ; I will not set more by my life than by my soul, neither will I exchange the life to come for this world here present. 0 how foolishly speaketh he which argueth me of foolishness!' And a little farther he saith, ' And now let this carnal politic counsellor, and disputer of this world, tell wherein have they to blame me. If in mine examinations I have not answered so after their mind and affection as they required of me, seeing it is not ourselves that speak, but the Lord that speaketh in us, as he himself doth fore-witness, saying, When you shall be brought before rulers and magistrates, it is not you yourselves that speak, but the Spirit of my Father that shall be in you. Mat. x. Wherefore, if the Lord be true and faithful of his word, as it is most certain, then there is no blame in me ; for he gave the words that I did speak, and who was I that could resist his will? ' If any man shall reprehend the things that I said, let him then quarrel with the Lord, whom it pleased to work so in me; and if the Lord be not to be blamed, neither am I herein to be accused, which did that I purposed not, and that I fore-thought not of. The things that there I did utter and express [he means when he was before the magis- trates], if they were otherwise than well, let them show it, and then will I say that they were my words, and not the Lord's. But if they were good and approved, and such as cannot justly be accused, then must it needs be granted, spite of their teeth, that they proceeded of the Lord ; and then who be they that shall accuse me — people of pru- dence? Or who shall condemn me — just judges? And though they so do, yet, nevertheless, the word shall not be frustrate, neither shall the gospel bo foolish or therefore decay, but rather the kingdom of God shall the more prosper and flourish unto the Israelites, and shall pass the sooner unto the elect of Christ Jesus, and they which shall so do shall prove the grievous judgment of God. Neither shall they escape without punishment that be per- secutors and murderers of the just. •My well-beloved,' saith he, 'lift up your eyes and consider the counsels of God. He showed unto us a late an image of his plague, which was to our correction ; and if we shall not receive him he will draw out his sword and strike with sword, pestilence, and famine, the nation that shall rise against Christ.' This, as I said, is part of a letter writ by Pom- ponius Algerius, an Italian martyr, who, when he wrote it, was in prison, in, as he calls it, his de- lectable orchard, the prison of Leonine, 12 calend. into their couusels. 3. To sit in the scorner's scat, here called ' the chair of pestilence.' This is from the vulgate Latin, which renders a*?b pesti/enlia.—{Eu.) August, anno 1555. As is to be. seen in the second volume of the book of martyrs.1 This man was, when he wrote this letter, in the house of the forest of Lebanon, in the church in the wilderness, in the place and way of contending for the truth of God, and he drank of both these bitter cups of which I spake before, to wit, of that which was exceeding bitter, and of that which wa3 exceeding sweet, and the reason why he complained not of the bitter was because the sweet had over- come it — as his afflictions abounded for Christ, so did his consolations by him. So, did I say? they abounded much more. But was not this man, think you, a giant, a pillar in this house? Had he not also now hold of the shield of faith? Yea, was he not now in the combat ? And did he not behave himself valiantly? Was not his mind elevated a thousand degrees be- yond sense, carnal reasons, fleshly love, self-con- cerns, and the desires of embracing temporal things? This man had got that by the end that pleased him ; neither could all the flatteries, pro- mises, threats, or reproaches, make him once listen to or desire to inquire after what the world or the glory of it could afford. His mind was captivated with delights invisible; he coveted to show his love to his Lord by laying down his life for his sake ; he longed to be there where there shall be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing, nor tears, nor troubles ; he was a man of a thousand. Ec. vii. 28. But to return again to our text. You know we are now upon the vessels of the house of the forest of Lebanon, which, I have told you, could not be vessels for worship, for that worship that was ordained to be performed at the temple was also confined to that, and to the vessels that were there. Therefore they must be, in all probability, the ves- sels that I have mentioned, the which you see how we have expounded and applied. If I am out I know it not; if others can give me better light hero about for it I will be thankful. There was also added to this house of the forest of Lebanon, store-cities, chariot-cities, and cities of horsemen, unto which king Jotham added castles and towers. 2 ch. viii. 4-6 ; xxvH. 3, 4. These might be to signify by what ways and 1 Pompoiiius Algerius, horn in Capua, a young man of great learning, was student iu the University of Padua, where he, not being able to conceal the verity of Christ's gospel which he learned by the heavenly teaching of God's grace, ceased not, both by doctrine and example of life, to inform as many as he could in the same doctrine, and to bring them to Christ; for which he was accused of heresy, and brought to Rome, where he was burned alive, lie wrote this letter while in prison at Venice. — See Fox's Acts and Monuments, edit. 1031. vol. ii. p. 181. Mr. Southey thought that this letter gave Bunyan some germ of his Pilgrims Progress ! ! He takes it from the words, ' In this world there is no mansion linn for me, and therefore I will travel up to the New Jerusalem, which is in heaven.' — Life of Banyan, p. xc. — (&D.) THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 533 means God would at times revenue the quarrel of his church, even in this world, upon them that, without cause, should, for their faith and worship, set themselves against them. For here is a face of threatening revenge, they were store- houses, chariot-cities, cities of horsemen, with castles and towers. And they stood on the same ground that this house was budded upon, even in the forest of Lehanon. Wo know that in Israel God stirred up kings who at times suppressed idolatry there, and plagued the persecutors too, as Jehu, Ilezckiah, Josiah, &c. And ho has promised that, even in gospel times, kings ' shall hate the whore, - make her desolate and naked, and shall eat her flesh and hum her with fire.' He. xvii. 12, 16. Here now are the store-houses, chariot-cities, cities of horsemen, with towers and castles, for the help to the house of the forest of Lehanon, for the help of the church in the wilderness, or, as you have it in another place, as the serpent cast floods of water out of his mouth after the woman, ' that he might cause her to be carried away of the flood. And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth.' Re. xii. is, ig. Thus the Medea and Persians helped to deliver the church from the clutches and strong hand of the king of Babylon. This Lebanon, therefore, was a place consider- able and a figure of great things; the countenance of the Lord Jesus is compared to it, and so is the face of his spouse, and also the smell of her gar- ment. Ca. iv. 11; v. 15; vii. 1. CHAP. X. OF THE PORCH OF THE HOUSE OF TOE FOREST OF LEBANON'. Solomon also made a porch to this house of the forest of Lebanon, lie made several porches, as one for the temple, one for the house which he dwelt in, one for the throne of the kingdom, and this that was for the house of the forest of Lebanon, of all which this last is that mentioned. ' And he made a porch of pillars, the length thereof was fifty cubits, and the breadth thereof thirty cubits ; and the porch ivas before them, and the other pillars, and the thick beam ivere before them.' l Ki. vii. c This porch was famous both for length, and breadth, and strength, it was able to contain a thousand men. It was like that of the tower of David, otherwise called the stronghold, the castle of Zion, which is the city of David. 2Sa. v. 7. 1 Ch. xi. 5. Mi. iv. 8. This tower of David was built for an armoury, whereon there hanged a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men. It was fifty cubits long and thirty broad, a spacious place, a large recep- tacle for any that liked to take shelter there. It was made of pillars, even as the house within was, or it stood upon pillars. The pillars, you know, I told you before, were to show as what mighty men, or what men of mighty grace, God would have in his church in the wilderness furnished with. And it is worth your observing here also we have pillars, pillars. And he made the porch of pillars, that is, of pillars of cedar, as the rest of the pillars of the house were. 'And the porch was before them.' That is, as I take it, an entering porch, less than the space within, so that the pillars, neither as to number nor bigness, could be seen without, until at least they that had a mind to see entered the mouth of the porch. And by this was fitly prefigured how unseen the strength of the church under per- secution is of all that are without her. Alas ! they think that she will be run down with a push, or, as they said, 'What do these feeble Jews? Will they fortify themselves? Will they sacrifice ' Will they make an end in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of the rubbish which are burnt?' Alas ! ' if a fox go up he shall even break down their stone wall.' He. Iv. 2, 3. But do you think these men saw the strength of the Jews now? No, no, their pillars were within, and so were shadowed from their eyes. David himself could not tell what judgment to make of the way of the world against the people of God, until he went into the sanctuary of God. Ps.lxxiii.16,17. How then can the world judge of the condition of the saints? Alas, had they known the church's strength, surely they would not, as they have, so furiously assaulted the same. But what have they got by all they have done, either against the head or body of the same? She yet has being in the world, and will have, shall have, though all the nations on earth should gather themselves together against it. Nor is it the cutting off of many that will make her cease to flourish. Alas, were she not sometimes pruned and trimmed her boughs would .stand too thick. Those therefore that aro taken away with God's pruning-hooks are removed, that the under branches may grow the better.1 But, I say, to extinguish her it is in vain for any to hope for that. She stands upon pillars, on rocks, on the munition of rocks; stand therefore she must, whether the world believes it or no. 'And the other pillars - were before them, or, as the margin has it, 'according to them.' Tho other pillars, that is, they more inward, those that 1 Thus the blood of the martyrs was tin- seedtime of the church, and it produced an abundant harvest. Thai God Buf- fered the choicest of his saints to [kiss through such dreadful sufferings in their way to -.'lory, is a pro >f that God's H not our ways, but they' are infinite in wisdom and mercy. — (En.) 53t THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. were in the body of the house. Christ doth not, as the poor world doth, that is, set the best leg- before ; the pillars that were more inward in the house were as good as those in the front. It is true some are appointed to death to show to the world the strength of grace, not that he can help nobody to that strength but they. The most feeble of his flock, when Christ shall stand by and strengthen them, are able to do and bear what the strong have underwent. For so he saith. And ' the other pillars and the thick beams were1 according to them; nay, 'before them.' Indeed, they that are left seem weak and feeble if com- pared to them that have already been tried with fire and sword and all the tortures of men. But that grace by which they were helped that have done such mighty acts already, can help those who seem more weak yet to go beyond them. God strengthened ' the spoiled against the strong, so that the spoiled shall come against the fortress.' Am. v. 9. Or, as another scripture has it, ' The lame take the prey.' is. xxxiii. 23. So that you see here is all substance. All here are pillars and thick beams, both in the house and in the porch. The conclusion therefore is: — The true members of the church in the wilderness are strong, mighty, being made able by the grace of God for their standing, and being also coupled and compacted together with the biggest bands or thickest beams that the Holy Ghost puts forth to bind and hold this church together. And there is reason for it. The church is God's tower or battery by which he beateth down Antichrist, or if you will have it in the words of the prophet, ' Thou art my battle-axe and weapons of war; for with thee (saith God) will I break in pieces,' &c. Je. u. 19, 20. Wherefore, since the church is set for defence of religion, and to be as a battery to beat down Antichrist, it is requisite that she should be made up of pillars of strong and staunch materials.1 The largeness of the porch was commodious ; it was the next shelter, or the place whereunto they of the house of the forest of Lebanon, when pur- sued, might resort or retreat with the less difficulty. Thus the church in the wilderness has her porch, her place, her bosom, whereunto her discouraged may continually resort, and take up and be re- freshed. As Abiathar thrust in to David and his men in the wilderness, in the day when Saul had slain his father, and of his brethren, even ' four- score and five persons that did wear a linen ephod.' 1 Sa. xxii. 17-23. When the apostles were persecuted ' they went to their own company,' because the Lord was. there. Ac iv, 23. There we find the pillars, and have both solace and example. There, as Pom- ponius said of his person, stands Christ Jesus in the front as Captain of the Lord's host, and round about him the old fathers, prophets, apostles, and martyrs. This porch, therefore, I take to be a figure of those cordial and large affections which the church in the wilderness has to all, and for all them that love the truth, and that suffer and are afflicted for the sincere profession thereof. •This porch was bigger than that which belonged to the temple by much, to show that those that are made the objects of the enemies' rage most are usually most prepared with affection for them that are in the same condition. Fellow-feeling is a great matter. It is said of the poor afflicted people that were in Macedonia ' in a great trial of affliction, the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality;'" for to their power, - yea, and beyond their power,' they showed their charity to the destroyed church of Jerusalem. 2 Co. vui 1-4. And a porch in a forest, or a bosom in a wilder- ness, is seasonable to them that in the wilderness are faint and weary. Nabal shut up his doors against David, and therefore he died like a beast. Poor David! thou wast bewildered, but this churl had no compassion for thee. 1 Sa. xxv. 5-13, 25-39. Blest Obadiah, thou hadst a bosom, and bread, and hiding-places for the church, when rent and torn by the fury of Jezebel, and thou hast for it thy reward in heaven. 1 Ki. xvm. 3, 4. Mat. x. 42. Ebed- melech, because he had compassion on Jeremiah when he was in the dungeon, God did not only give him his life for a prey, but promised him the effects of putting his trust in the Lord. Je. xxxviii. 7-11 ; xxxix. 15—18. And he made a porch of pillars. The porch is but the entrance of the house, whither many go that yet step not into the house, but make their retreat from thence; but it is because they are non-residents, they only come to see ; or else, if they pretended more, it was not from the heart. 'They went out from us,' said John, 'but they were not of us ; for if they had been of us they would, no doubt, have continued with us ; but they went out that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us. ' 1 Jn. il. 19. And forasmuch as this porch was fifty cubits long, men may take many a step straight forward 1 Consult Bnnvan's admirable treatise, Of Antichrist and huRiua.— \o\. il., 1'. 41. 2 How easily is tins riddle resolved by those who visit the afflicted. The Christian poor beat the rich out and out in charity. The poor mother rises long before her usual time, and having fitted her own children for school, runs to her sick neighbour to do the same for her little ones, frecmently sharing with them her own children's food ; and then, like an angel of mercy, watches over and comforts her sick neighbour. Such is the unostentatious Christian charity found among the Chris- tian poor. 0 that it may more and more abound. — (En.) THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 535 therein ami l»e Imt in the porch yet.1 Even as wc have seen men go, as one would think, till they are out of view in the porch of this church in the wilderness, but presently you have them without the door again. True, this porch was made of pillars, and so to every one, at first entrance, it showed the power of the place ; the church in the wilderness also is so builded that men may sec it is ordained for defence. Men also, at their first offer to step over the threshold there, with mouth profess that they will dwell as soldiers there. But words arc hut wind; when they see the storm a-coming they will take care to shift for themselves. This house, or church in the wilderness, must see to itself for all them. As the house therefore is a figure of the church in the wilderness, so, so great a porch belonging to it may be also to show that numbers may there be entertained that, if need be, will quickly whip out again. Although therefore the porch was made of pillars, yet every one that walked there were not such. The pillars was to show them, not what they were, but what they should be that entered into this house. The church also in the wilderness, even in her porch or first entrance into it, is full of pillars, apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There also hang up the shields that the old warriors have used, and are plastered upon the walls the brave achievements which they have done. There are also such encouragements there for those that stand, that one would think none that came thither with pretence to serve there would, for very shame, attempt to go back again ; and yet, not to their credit be it spoken, they will forsake the place without blushing, yea, and plead for this their so doing. But I have done with the explica- tory part, and conclude that from these ten par- ticulars thus handled in this book, the house of the forest of Lebanon was a type, or figure, of the church in the wilderness. Nor do I know, if this he denied, how so fitly to apply sojne of these texts which speak to the church, to support her under her troubles, of the comforts that afterwards she shall enjoy, since they are presented to her under such metaphors as clearly denote she was once in a wilderness, for instance, 1. ' Sing, 0 ye heavens; for the Lord hath done it (that is, redeemed his servant Jacob from his sins and from the hand of the enemy): shout, ye lower parts of the earth (or church once trampled under feet): break forth into singing, ye mountains, 1 These home-thrusts at conscience, so constantly met with in Banyan's works, should have the efl'cct of exciting us to solemn self-examination. May we never be contented with the porch, but enter and enjoy the riches of Divine grace. —(Ed.) 0 forest, and every tree therein (bore is comfort for the church under the name of a forest, that in which the house we have been speaking of was built): for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel.' Is.xlhr.83. To what, I say, can this text more fitly be applied, than to the church in the wilderness, put here under the name of a forest as well as under the title of heaven? Yea, methinks it is cried hereto her, ' 0 forest,' on purpose to intimate to us that the house in the forest of Lebanon was the figure of the church in this condition. 2. Again, 'Is it not yet a very little while, and Lebanon shall be turned into a fruitful field, and the fruitful field shall be esteemed as a forest? And in that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity, and out of darkness. The meek also shall increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor among men shall rejoice in the holy One of Israel. For the terrible one is brought to nought, and the scorner is consumed, and all that watch for iniquity are cut off.' Is. xxix. 17-20. Lebanon was a forest but now she must be a fruitful field. What means he here by Lebanon but the church under perse- cution, and the fruitful field? Mistress Babylon shall become as a forest, that is, as the church under distress. But when shall this be ? Why, when the terrible one is brought low and the scorner is consumed, &c. What can be more plain than this to prove that Lebanon, even the house in the forest of Lebanon, for that is here intended, was a figure of the church in the wilderness, or in a tempted and persecuted state. For to be turned into a fruitful field signi- fies the recovering of the afflicted church into a state most quiet and fruitful ; fruitful fields are quiet because they are fenced, and so shall the church he in that day. 3. ' The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.' Is.xxxv. 1. What are we to understand by these words if they be not a prophecy of the flourishing state of Christ's kingdom, who, in the days of her perse- cution, is compared to a wilderness, to a desert, and to solitary places. And she ' shall be glad for them;' for what? for that she is rid of the dragons, wild beasts, satyrs, screech owls, great owl, and vulture, types of the beasts and unclean birds of Antichrist, is. xjariv. 13—15. She shall be glad for them that they are taken away from her and placed far away, for then no lion shall be there nor any ravenous beast ; yea, it is the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grass, with reeds and rushes, as it is, Is. xxxv. And now ' the lame man shall leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing; for in the 536 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.' Read the whole chapter. For that the desert and wilderness is thus men- tioned, and that to express the state of the church in trouble by, it is clear that Lebanon is not ex- cluded, nor the thing that is signified thereby, which, I say, is the church in her low estate, in her forest, or wilderness condition. 4. ' I will plant in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the oil-tree; I will set in the desert the fir-tree, and the pine, and the box-tree together.' is. xii. 19. Can any think that trees are the things taken care of here? They are the men that Antichrist has murdered in his heat and rage against Christ, the which God will restore again to his church, when Antichrist is dead and buried in the sides of the pit's mouth. And that you may the better under- stand he meaneth so, he expresseth again the state of the church as like to a wilderness condition, and promiseth that in that very church, now so like a wilderness, to plant it again with Christians, flour- ishing with variety of gifts and graces, signified by the various nature and name of the trees spoken of here. 5. ' Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert. The beast of the field shall honour me, the dragons and the owls : because I give waters in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert, to give drink to my people, my chosen.' is. xliii. 19, 20. Here God alludes to the condition of the children of Israel in the wilderness of old, and implies they shall be in a wilderness again ; and as then he gave them water, and delivered them from serpents, cocka- trices, vipers, dragons, so he will do now, now to his people, his chosen. G. ' The Lord shall comfort Zion : he will comfort all her waste places ; and he will make her wilder- ness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord ; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.' is. u. 3. See here are Zion's waste places, Zion's wilder- ness, forest, or Lebanon. Next here is a promise that he will comfort her; and what doth this suppose but that she was in her wilderness state, uncom- fortable at least as to her outward peace, her liberty, and gospel privileges and beauties? Then here is the comparison, by which he illustrates his promise as to what degree and pitch he will com- fort her. • He will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord.' The effects of all which will be she will have joy and gladness ; she will be thankful, and be melodious in her voice, in her soul to the Lord. This, I say, will follow upon her deliverance from her desert, her wilderness, her desolate, and comfortless state: all which is more fully expressed by her repeated halle- lujahs. Re. xix. 1—6. Which hallelujahs there are the effect of her deliverance from the rage of the beast and great whore, of whose greatness and ruin you read in the two foregoing chapters. Now, I say, since the church was to be in a wilderness condition under the gospel ; and since we have this house of the forest of Lebanon so particularly set forth in the Scriptures; and also since this house, its furni- ture, its troubles, and state, do so paint out this church in this wilderness state, I take it to be for that very thing designed, that is to say, to prefigure this church in this her so solitary and wilderness state. [Conclusion.] We will now therefore here make a brief conclu- sion of all. First. This may inform us of the reason of the deplorable state of a professing people. It is allotted to them in this world to be so. The world, and men of the world, must have their tranquillity here, and must be possest of all; this was foreshown in Esau, who had of his sons many that were dukes and kings before there was any king in Israel. Ge. xxxvi. 31. God so disposing of things that all may give place when his Son shall come to reign in Mount Zion, and before his ancients gloriously, which coming of his will be at the resurrection, and end of this world, and then shall his saints reign with him ; ' when Christ, ivho is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.' Colin. 4. Let not therefore kings, and princes, and poten- tates be afraid ; the saints that are such indeed, know their places, and are of a peaceable deport- ment ; ' the earth God hath given to the children of men,' and his kingdom to the sons of God. Ps. cxv. 16. Mat. xxv. 34. Lu. xii. 32. I know there are extravagant opinions in the world about the kingdom of Christ, as if it consisted in temporal glory in part, and as if he would take it to him by carnal weapons, and so maintain it in its greatness and grandeur; but I confess myself an alien to these notions, and believe and profess the quite contrary, and look for the coming of Christ to judgment personally, and betwixt this and that, for his coming in Spirit, and in the power of his word to destroy Antichrist, to inform kings, and so give quietness to his church on earth ; which shall assuredly be accomplished,1 when the reign of the 1 The gradual spread of the gospel, like the leaven, must eventually leaven the whole. How astonishing has been its progress since Bunyan entered the celestial city. If his happy spirit hovers as a guardian angel about the saints at Bedford, how must he rejoice in the change. The iron hand of despotic oppression laid low ; his old prison swept away ; the meetings in dells, and woods, and barns, exchanged for large and com- modious places of worship. How he must wonder at our want of gratitude, and love, and zeal, in return for such mercies. — (1£d.) THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 537 Least, tlie whore, the false prophet, and of the man Of sin is OUt. 2T)iC9. ii. 8. Is. xlix. 23; lu. 15; lx. 3, 10, 11, 1G; lxii. 2. Re. xxi. 2t. Second. Let this teach men not to think that the church is cursed of God, because she is put in a wilderness state. Alas, that is hut to train her up in a way of solitariness, to make her Canaan the more welcome to her. Rest is sweet to the labour- ing man. Yea, this condition is the first step to heaven ; yea. it is a preparation to that kingdom. God's ways are not as man's. * I have chosen thee,' saith he, 'in the furnace of affliction.' When Israel came out of Egypt, they were led of God into the wilderness; but why? That he might have them to a land, that he had espied for them, that he might bring them to a city of habitation. Eze. xx. 6. Ts. cvii. 1-7. The world know not the way of the Lord, nor the judgment of our God. Do you think that saints that dwell in the world, and that have more of the mind of God than the world, would, could so rejoice in God, in the cross, in tribulations and distresses, were they not assured that through many tribula- tions is the very roadway to heaven. Ac. xiv. 22. Let this then encourage the saints to hope, and to rejoice in hope of the glory of God, notwithstand- ing present tribulations. This is our seed-time, our winter; afflictions arc to try us of what mettle we are made: yea, and to shake off worm-oaten fruit, and such as are rotten at core. Troubles for Christ's sake are but like the prick of an awl in the tip of the ear, in order to hang a jewel there. Let this also put the saints upon patience: when we know that a trial will have an end, we are by that knowledge encouraged to exercise patience. I have a bad master, but I have but a year to servo under him, and that makes me serve him with pa- tience; I have but a mile to go in this dirty way, and then I shall have my path pleasant and green, and this makes me tread the dirty way with patience. I am now in my rags, but by that a quarter of a year is come and gone, two hundred a year comes into my hand, wherefore I will wait, and exercise patience. Thus might I multiply comparisons. Be patient then, my brethren; but how long? to the coming of the Lord. But when will that bo? the coining of the Lord draws nigh. 'Be patient,' my brethren, belong patient, even 'unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the hus- bandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive tho early and latter rain. Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth ni