shall be hanged; yea, he shall be hanged." And, in the presence of his weeping friends, he ascended from the gibbet to the mansions of the blest. At the end of three months, Bunyan became anxious to know what the enemies of the cross intended to do with him. His sentence was transportation and death, unless he conformed. To give up or shrink from his profession of Christ, by embracing the national forms and submitting his conscience to human laws, he dared not. He resolved to persevere, even to the sacrifice of his life. All his fears as to the salvation of his own soul were now dissipated, never more to cloud his heavenly prospects. Although a beneficed clergyman proclaimed Bunyan to be" the most notorious schismatic in all the county of Bedford," still he was treated with great respect. Mr. Cobb, the clerk of the justices, visited him in prison, and endeavoured in vain to persuade him to promise not to hold meetings for religious exercises. They held a very friendly interview, which, while it did not shake Bunyan's determination, led him to thank Mr. Cobb for his civil and meek discourse, and to ejaculate a heart-felt prayer, "Oh that we might meet in heaven!" When the time arrived for the execution of the bitterest part of his sentence, God interposed to save the life of his servant. He had familiarized his mind with all the circumstances of an appalling death; the gibbet, the ladder, the halter, had lost much of their terrors; he had even studied the sermon he would then have preached to the concourse of spectators. At this critical time, the King's coronation took place. To grace it, the King had ordered the release of numerous prisoners, and within the description of offences was that for which Bunyan was confined. The assizes being held in August, he determined to seek his liberty by a petition to the judges. The court sat at the Old Swan Inn, Bedford. Having written his petition, his modest, timid wife determined to present it to the judges. Her heroic achievements on behalf of her husband are admirably narrated by Bunyan. She had previously travelled to London with a petition to the House of Lords, and entrusted it to Lord Barkwood, who informed her that they could not interfere, the king having committed the release of the prisoners to the judges. Several times she appeared before them; love to her husband, a stern sense of duty, a conviction of the gross injustice practised upon one to whom she was most tenderly attached, overcame her delicate, modest, retiring habits, and forced her upon this strange duty. This delicate, courageous, highminded woman appeared before Judge Hale, who was much affected with her earnest pleading. It was the triumph of love, duty, and piety over bashful timidity. Her energetic appeals were in vain; and with bitter feelings she returned to the prison, believing that it would be the tomb of her beloved husband. She could not have conceived that, under the stately robes of Hale, there was a heart affected by Divine love. And when the nobleman afterwards met the despised tinker and his wife, clothed in more glorious robes in the mansions of the blest, how inconceivable their surprise! The learned judge, in the pure atmosphere of heaven, had found that, from that narrow cell in Bedford gaol, a glory had shone out, illustrating the grace of God, and doing more good to man than all the prelates and judges of the kingdom would accomplish. Bunyan was thus left in that dreary and hopeless state of imprisonment, in which he continued for twelve years and a half. His wife, in pleading with the judge for his liberty, said, "My lord, I have four small children that cannot help themselves, of which one is blind, and have nothing to live upon but the charity of good people." As soon as he could get his tools in order, he set to work; and we have the following testimony to his industry by a fellow-prisoner, Mr. Wilson, the Baptist minister, and of Charles Doe, who visited him :-" In prison, have I been witness that his own hands have ministered to his and his family's necessities, making many hundred gross of long tagged laces, to fill up the vacancies of his time. There also I surveyed his library, the least, but yet the best that e'er I saw the Bible and the Book of Martyrs. And during his imprisonment, he writ several excellent and useful treatises, particularly The Holy City, Chris. tian Behaviour, The Resurrection of the Dead, and Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. Besides these valuable treatises, Charles Doe states that, of his own knowledge, in prison, Bunyan wrote The Pilgrim's Progress, the first part, and that he had this from his own mouth. Well might Mr. Doe say, "What hath the devil or his agents got by putting our great gospel minister in prison ?" they prevented his preaching to a few poor pilgrims in the villages round Bedford, and it was the means of spreading his fame and the knowledge of the gospel throughout the world. In addition to these works, the fruits of his imprisonment, may be added, A Map of Salvation and Damnation; The Four Last Things, a poem; Mount Ebal and Gerizim, or, Redemption from the Curse, a poem; Prison Meditations, a poem ; Justification by Faith in Jesus Christ, 4to; Confession of His Faith and Reason of His Practice. But his most remarkable treatise was published within a short period from the commencement of his incarceration. It proved that the fear of God had, in his heart, swallowed up the fear of man. This was his treatise on the all-important subject of prayer, founded on, "I will pray with the spirit and with the understanding also." He had been warned by Judge Keeling to "Take heed of speak. ing irreverently of the Book of Common Prayer, for if you do, you will bring great damage upon yourself." Bunyan had formed his ideas of prayer from heartfelt experience; it is the cry of the burdened, sinking sinner, "Lord, save us, we perish;" or adoration rising from the heart to the throne of grace, filled with hopes of pardon and immortality. In his estimation, any form of human invention was an interference with the very nature of prayer, and with the work of the Holy Spirit. We are indebted to Dr. Cheever for a beautiful picture of Bunyan in his cell. "It is evening; he finishes his work, to be taken home by his dear blind child. He reads a portion of Scripture, and, clasping her small hands in his, kneels on the cold stone floor, and pours out his soul to God; then, with a parting kiss, dismisses her to her mother. The rude lamp glimmers on the table; with his Bible, pen, and paper, he writes as though joy did make him write. His face is lighted as from the radiant jasper walls of the celestial city. He clasps his hands, looks upward, and blesses God for his goodness. The last you see of him-is alone, kneeling on the prison floor; he is alone with God." His own record of his enjoyments while in prison is, that his feet stood on Mount Zion, his body within locks and bars, while his mind was free to study Christ, and elevated higher than the stars. Their fetters could not prevent his communion with God. The more his enemies raged, the more peace he experienced. In prison he received the visits of saints, of angels, and the Spirit of God."I have been able to laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider. I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another world." If his ears were to be pierced in the pillory, it would be only "to hang a jewel there." 66 — Oh, happy he who doth possess Christ for his fellow prisoner, who doth glad With heavenly sunbeams gaols that are most sad." How strange must it seem to the luxurious worldling upon his bed of down, with an aching heart, to hear of the exquisite happiness of the prisoner for Christ, on his straw pallet! "When God makes the bed," as Bunyan says, "he must needs be easy that is cast thereon; a blessed pillow hath that man for his head, though to all beholders it is hard as a stone." His food was brought daily, and such was the veneration in which his memory was embalmed, that the very jug in which his broth was taken to the prison has been preserved to this day. In the midst of all his sufferings he murmured not, nor for a moment indulged a revengeful spirit-he left the persecutor in the hands of God. "Stand off, Christian; pity the poor wretch that brings down upon himself the vengeance of God." "When I visited him in prison," said Mr. Doe, "there were about sixty Dissenters besides himself, and two eminent Dissenting ministers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dun, by which means the prison was very much crowded; yet, in the midst of all that hurry which so many new comers occasioned, I have heard Mr. Bunyan both preach and pray with that mighty spirit of faith and plerophory of divine assistance that has made me stand and wonder." Here they could sing without fear of being overheard-no informers prowling round. The world was shut out; and, in communion with heaven, they could forget their sorrows, and have a rich foretaste of the inconceivable glory of the celestial city. It was under such circumstances that Bunyan preached one of his most remarkable sermons, afterwards published under the title of The Holy City, or the New Jerusalem-her impregnable walls and gates of precious stones, golden streets, water of life, temple, and the redeemed from all nations flocking into it. To his imprisonment the world is indebted for the most surprising narrative of a new birth that has ever appeared. In prison he wrote the Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. He displays in the preface his deep interest in the spiritual welfare of those who had been born under his ministry. He rejoices in their happiness, even while he was "sticking between the teeth of the lions in the wilderness. I now again, from the lions' den, from 'the mountains of the leopards,' do look yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired haven." How natural it was, that, while narrating his own experience, he should be led to write a guide to pilgrims through time to eternity, and that it should be dated from "the den." "And thus it was: I writing of the way About their journey and the way to glory." Any one to whom the adventures of Christian are familiar, must, on reading the Grace Abounding, be continually struck with the likeness there drawn of the pilgrim-the more he contemplates the two pictures of Christian experience, the more striking is their similarity. The one is a narrative of facts, the other contains the same facts allegorized. Thus, by an irresistible impulse from heaven upon the mind of a prisoner for Christ's sake, did a light shine forth from the dungeon on Bedford bridge which has largely contributed to enlighten the habitable globe. It has been translated into most of the languages and dialects of the world. Even the Caffrarian and Hottentot, the enlightened Greek and Hindoo, the remnant of the Hebrew race, the savage Malay, and the voluptuous Chinese, -all have the wondrous narrative in their own languages. IV. HIS REMARKABLE DELIVERANCE FROM PRISON. Towards the end of his imprisonment, Bunyan enjoyed great privileges. He frequently, if not regularly, attended the church meetings, and preached with some degree of publicity. The church at Bedford was at this time in want of a pastor, and their eyes were naturally fixed upon Bunyan to succeed to that important office. The church held several meetings on the subject, the minutes of which are still on record, and are very interesting. The result was most gratifying. "At a full assembly of the church at Bedford, the 21st of the 10th month [Dec., 1671], after much seeking God by prayer, the congregation did, with joynt consent, call forth and appoint our brother John Bunyan to the pastoral office. And he, accepting thereof, gave himself up to serve Christ and his church in that charge, and received of the elders the right hand of fellowship, after having preached fifteen years." The choice thus solemnly made, was ratified by the abundant blessings of heavenly union and great prosperity; he was no stranger or novice, but one whose preaching had proved most acceptable to them for a series of years. While Bunyan was a prisoner for preaching the glad tidings of salvation, or, in the mysterious legal jargon of the period, "holding conventicles," he received his Majesty's licence to preach, and thus to hold conventicles,-it was one of the first that was granted. His Majesty continued to keep him a prisoner for preaching more than six months after he had licensed him to preach! b The history of his release is very romantic, and leads us back to the battle of Worcester, at which it is very probable that Bunyan fought, escaping among the fugitives from the royal army, never to take up arms again. At this battle the republicans, exasperated by the cruelties inflicted upon the inhabitants of Leicester, fought like lions. The royal army was completely routed, its leaders who survived the battle, escaping in various ways. Charles found refuge at Boscobel House, and, disguised as a woodcutter, was hid in an oak. His adventures fill a volume, and the Parliament offered one thousand pounds reward for his apprehension. At length he arrived at Brighton, then a little fishing town, and succeeded in escaping in a small vessel to France. The vessel left Shoreham, and at night stood over to France, and returned to Poole, no one discovering that they had been out of their course. A letter recently found among the archives of the Society of Friends at Devonshire House shows the important aid Charles received from the mate of the vessel, Richard Carver, who was a Quaker. He recognised the King, who pretended to be a bankrupt merchant flying from the bailiffs. He assured him that his life was safe in his hands. He kept the crew in ignorance of the quality of their passenger; and when they arrived on the French coast off Fecamp, rowed him to the shore, and in shoal water carried him on his shoulders to the land. Many years had passed away, when Carver, on his return from the West Indies, found a vast number of Quakers imprisoned for conscience' sake. Whitehead and Moore, the leading members of the Society of Friends, entreated his sympathy, and with him gained access to the King, who at once recognised him, and inquired why he had not been to claim his reward. He answered that he had been rewarded with the satisfaction of having saved life. And now, Sir, I ask nothing for myself, but for my poor friends, that you should set them at liberty, as I did you. The King offered to release any six; and we may imagine the sailor's blunt answer-What! six poor Quakers for a King's ransom!! His Majesty was so pleased as to invite them to come again. The Friends in gaol were suffering severe privations, under which great numbers had perished. The application for the release of the survivors, thus happily commenced, was followed up with zeal and energy, and crowned with success. Shade of the noble sailor, thy name is worthy of all honour! And the more so, because thy gallant bearing has been studiously concealed in all the histories of these important transactions. Had he been a mischief-making Jesuit, like Father Huddleston, the noble deed would have been trumpeted forth for the admiration of the world to all ages. Four hundred and seventy-one Quakers, and, with the royal permission, twenty Baptists and Independents, were released from prison by one deed of pardon, and among their number was JOHN BUNYAN. His petition is recorded in the Minutes of the Privy Council, the 8th of May, 1672, and on the 17th is entered the certificate of the Sheriff of Bedfordshire that he had been imprisoned for no other cause than that of Nonconformity. Upon this, his name was ordered to be inserted in the deed of pardon, which took many months before it passed the various offices and was pleaded at the assizes. An entry in the records of the city of Leicester proves that he was there, and claimed the liberty of preaching some months before his discharge, -"John Bunyan's licence bears date the 15th of May, 1672, to teach as a Congregational person, being of that persuasion, in the house of Josias Roughed, Bed |