Bunyan had thought much upon these things before he went to prison; for he saw the storm coming, and had some preparatory considerations "warm upon his heart." Like a prudent, skilful, fearless mariner, he took in sail at the signs of the hurricane, and made all tight aloft, by prayer, and by consideration of the things which are unseen and eternal. He kept on his course, turning neither to the right hand nor the left, in his Master's service, but he made all ready for the tempest, and familiarized himself to the worst that might come, be it the prison, the pillory, or banishment, or death. With a magnanimity and grandeur of philosophy which none of the princes or philosophers, or sufferers of this world ever dreamed of, he concluded that "the best way to go through suffering, is to trust in God through Christ as touching the world to come; and as touching this world to be dead to it, to give up all interest in it, to have the sentence of death in ourselves and admit it, to count the grave my house, to make my bed in darkness, and to say to corruption, thou art my father; and to the worm, thou art my mother and sister; that is, to familiarize these things to me.'

With this preparation, when the storm suddenly fell, though the ship at first bowed and labored heavily under it, yet how like a bird did she afterwards flee before it. It reminds me of those two lines of Wesley,

"The tempests that rise,

Shall gloriously hurry our souls to the skies!'

So Bunyan's bark sped onward, amidst howling gales, with rattling hail and thunder, but onward, still onward, and upward, still upward, to heaven!

There is one passage in his; experience at this time, which is deeply affecting, as showing what he had to break from and to leave, and in what difficult circumstances, as well as to encounter, in going to prison, and perhaps to death. "Notwithstanding these spiritual helps," he says, "I found myself a man encompassed with infirmities. The parting with my wife and poor children hath often been to me, in this place, as the pulling the flesh from my bones; and that not only because I am somewhat too fond of these mercies; but also because I should have often brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries and wants that my poor family was likewise to meet with; especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer my heart than all I had beside. Oh, the thoughts of the hardships I thought my blind one might go under, would break my heart to pieces. 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! But yet, recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. Oh, I saw in this condition I was as a man who is pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children ; yet, thought I, I must do it, I must do it. And now, I thought on those two milch kine, that were to carry the ark of God into another country, to leave their calves behind them."

Nothing could be more touching than this artless picture of Bunyan's domestic tenderness, es

pecially of the father's affection for his poor blind child. If any thing could have tempted him from duty; if any thing could have allured him to conform against his conscience, it had been this. But the Scriptures and the love of Christ supported him; and he who could venture to die for Christ, even while his soul was in darkness, could also trust in the promise, "Leave thy fatherless children; I will preserve them alive; and let thy widow trust in me. Verily, it shall go well with thy remnant." So, by divine grace, Bunyan overcame this temptation also.

And now, having followed this instructive picture of Bunyan's conflicts, partly while under fear of prison and of death, laying our tracery, as it were, over his own deeply engraven lines, to make it accurate, we come next to his own account of his commitment, which is one of the most humorous, characteristic, and instructive pieces in the English language. This is not to be found in the "Grace Abounding," but stands by itself in a tract entitled, "A Relation of the Imprisonment of Mr. John Bunyan, Minister of the Gospel at Bedford, in November, 1660; his Examination before the Justices; his Conference with the Clerk of the Peace; what passed between the Judges and his Wife, when she presented a Petition for his Deliverance, and so forth. Written by himself." indicted," says Bunyan, "for an upholder and maintainer of unlawful assemblies and conventicles, and for not conforming to the national worship of the Church of England; and after some conference there with the justices, they taking my

"I was

plain dealing with them for a confession, as they termed it, of the indictment, did sentence me to a perpetual banishment, because I refused to conform. So being again delivered up to the jailor's hands, I was had home to prison, and there have lain now complete twelve years, waiting to see what God would suffer these men to do with me."

It is a striking phraseology, which Bunyan uses, he "was bad home to prison;" it was indeed a home to him, for God made it such, sweeter, by divine grace, than any earthly home in his pilgrimage. He had been preaching for years when he was first taken, which was upon the 12th of November, 1660. He had engaged, if the Lord permitted, to come and teach some of the people who desired it on that day; but the justice of the peace hearing of it, issued his warrant to take Bunyan, and mean time to keep a strong watch about the house, " as if," says Bunyan, "we that were to meet together in that place, did intend to do some fearful business, to the destruction of the country." Yea they could scarce have been more alarmed and vigilant, if there had been rumor of a Popish gunpowder plot on foot. "When, alas! the constable, when he came in, found us only with our Bibles in our hands, ready to speak and hear the word of God; for we were just about to begin our exercise. Nay, we had begun in prayer for the blessing of God upon our opportunity, intending to have preached the word of the Lord unto them there present; but the constable coming in, prevented us.

Bunyan might have escaped had he chosen, for

he had fair warning, but he reasoned nobly, that as he had showed himself hearty and courageous in his preaching, and made it his business to encourage others, if he should now run, his weak and newly converted brethren would certainly think he was not so strong in deed as in word. "Also, I feared that if I should run, now that 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. Besides, I thought that seeing God of his mercy should choose me to go upon the forlorn hope in this country; 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 might follow after. And further, I thought the world thereby would take occasion at my cowardliness to have blasphemed the gospel, and to have had some grounds to suspect worse of me and my profession than I deserved." So Bunyan staid, with full resolution, and began the meeting. And when brought before the justice, and questioned as to what he did there, and why he did not content himself with following his calling, for it was against the law that such as he should be admitted to do as he did; he answered, that the intent of his coming thither, and to other places, was to instruct and counsel people to forsake their sins, and close in with Christ, lest they did miserably perish, and that he could do both these without confusion, to wit, follow his calling, and preach the word also.

"Now," says Bunyan, in a passage where you have the germ of many a character that afterwards figured in the pages of the Pilgrim's Progress,