Its hardness is not in the least abated,
'Tis not at all by water penetrated.
Though water hath a softening virtue in't,
It can't dissolve the stone; for 'tis a flint.
Yea, though in the water it doth still remain,
Its fiery nature, it doth still retain.

If you oppose it with its opposite,

Then in your very face, its fire will spit.
This flint an emblem is of those that lie

Under the Word, like stones, until they die :
Its crystal streams do not their nature change,
They are not from their lusts by Grace estranged."
Works, vol. ii. p. 958.

I have mentioned Bunyan's Sand-Glass.-He could not be so playful with it as with his Rose, or with his Spider. It had measured too many sad and slow hours, to suggest any but solemn thoughts. Its sands were never golden, nor too swift, but when his Great Works were in hand; and then, he had no time to count them. But when he did count them, it was done like himself.

"This Glass, when made, was, by the Workman's skill,

The sum of sixty minutes to fulfil.

Time, more or less, by it will not be spun ;
But just an hour, and then its sands are run.
Man's life, we will compare unto this Glass.
The number of his months he cannot pass."

Works, vol. ii. p. 976.

Bunyan must have been not a little pleased, at times, with his own poetry, although it cost much labour. And, no wonder; for it is sometimes very happy. No one has ever sung "The Fly and the Candle" better than he did. True, he could ill afford to have his small candles set a running by flies. They wasted too soon of themselves, and were always too few for his purpose. He scolds the Fly, however, in the gentlest terms he well could.

"What ails this Fly, thus desperately to enter

A combat with the Candle? Will she venture

To clash at Light? Away, thou silly Fly!
Thus doing, thou wilt burn thy wings and die.
But 'tis a folly-her advice to give :

6

She'll kill the Candle; or, she will not live.

Slap!' says she, 'at it!' Then she makes retreat.

So wheels about, and doth her blows repeat.
Nor doth the Candle let her quite escape,
But gives some little check unto the Ape:
Throws up her nimble heels, till down she falls
Where she lies sprawling, and for succour calls.
When she recovers, up she gets again,
And at the Candle comes, with might and main !
But now, behold the Candle takes the Fly,
And holds her till she doth, by burning, die !"

Works, vol. ii. p. 976.

But it is time to draw this long Chapter to a close, although it certainly has not been made long for the sake of length; but that we may see how Bunyan diversified his literary pursuits; and thus realize his very position and spirit whilst he was thinking for the World, and writing for all Time. In fact, nothing but such quotation as I have indulged in, could explain the plodding habits of such a mind as Bunyan's. He could not have worked out his Theological System, through the medium of a Concordance, without the reliefs he found in rhyming and spiritualizing. These were both air and exercise to his mind, after being long bent at hard study. It was by giving play to his fancy, and by indulging the whims of his taste, when tired of pondering, that he kept his understanding so clear, and his judgment so cool. In a word, it was by having "so many irons in the fire at once," and by humouring the inclination of the moment in the selection of one, that he wrought them all so well.

I have included his Book of Martyrs amongst his few comforts in prison, although he himself does not name it along with his Bible and Concordance. There are, however, references to it in some of his Works written in prison, which indicate its presence there. There is also a

quotation from it in his "House of the Forest of Lebanon," too long and accurate to be made from memory. One of his own signatures also in it, bears date in 1662. It must, therefore, have been in prison with him.

I cannot close this Chapter, without bringing up again, the interesting fact, that Bunyan retained and cherished all his love of NATURE, even when most shut out from the sight of the heavens and the earth. To his sanctified imagination, Nature had been a Bethel Ladder, whilst he was a prisoner at large: and when he was in

"Durance vile,"

and could see only a step or two of that Ladder through his bars, his spirit sprung out upon it at once. I must illustrate this fact. He exclaims, at sun-rise,

"Look, look! brave Sol doth peep up from beneath ;—
Shews us his golden face ;-doth on us breathe:
Yea, he doth compass us around with glories,

Whilst he ascends up to his highest stories,

Where he his Banner over us displays,

And gives us light !"

Works, vol. ii. p. 968.

He was so fond of sunlight, as well as scarce of Candles to write by, that he remonstrated with the sun one night thus,

"What, hast thou run thy race? Art going down?
Why as one angry, dost thou fade and frown?
Why wrap thy head with clouds, and hide thy face,
As threatening to withdraw from us thy grace?
O, leave us not! When once thou hid'st thy head,
Our whole horizon will be overspread!
Tell, who hath thee offended? Turn again!
Alas, too late! Entreaties are in vain."

Works, vol. ii. p. 971.

His prison window seems to have commanded the view of an Orchard. This delighted him, although it must have reminded him of his thievish pranks whilst he was a sin-breeder in Elstow and Bedford.

"A comely sight, indeed, it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree.
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blossoms, apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there, until ripe they be?
But most of all its beauty would abound,
If all that ripened were but truly sound."

Works, vol. ii. p. 968.

"The twittering Swallow" wheeling around the prison, and skimming the river, did not escape his notice, nor move in vain.

"This pretty Bird, O, 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.'

Works, vol. ii. p. 959.

Such was Bunyan's spirit in prison: such were his sympathies, associations, longings, and amusements. And those who sympathize with his joys and sorrows, whilst an Ambassador in bonds, and an Author in purpose, will not laugh at my attempts to get and give a sight of him. They may be failures; but they have been efforts, honestly and patiently made; and which, perhaps, no one else would have made, unless he had had more in view than mere biography, and other than literary motives. But whilst I have forgotten neither of these, I have been chiefly influenced and regulated by the great moral lesson which the Life and Talents of Bunyan teach. I want those who admire the Pilgrim, and marvel at "The Grace Abounding," to study the whole character of the Author.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

BUNYAN'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY.

In a list of eminent Protestant Bishops, lately published in Ireland to confront the Popish Bench, the name of Bunyan appears as one of the stars of the British Episcopate. This may be an Irish bull, but it is not a moral blunder. Bishop Bunyan was the Tinker's first title, when he ceased to be a tinker; and Whitefield gave currency to it in Ireland. In this way, the worthy Clergyman who drew up the list was misled. It is, however, neither a mistake nor a misnomer to call Bunyan a moral Philosopher, if a high relish for virtue, and a deep insight into its elements and excellence, constitute a great Moralist. He could also apply, as well as explain, its principles. He knew human nature as well as divine law. He was both a mental and moral Philosopher; and could do what few of either class have ever attempted,-close with the consciences of his readers, and pursue both the stubborn and the treacherous through all the labyrinths of resistance and evasion. His genius, like the magnetized chariot of the Chinese emperor, which enabled him to make conquests by shewing him in what direction to pursue the enemy, both fitted and inclined Bunyan to fight for victory, in battling with the vicious and the compromising. This cast of his mind has never been sufficiently illustrated or noticed. His Pilgrims are, indeed, Ethics in motion;-Morals in action; but they are so, because his general principles were profound, and his tact and insight intuitive.