The Works of John Bunyan, vol 3 by John Bunyan (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📖

souls, being purified, shall be clothed with the garment of salvation. Who can calculate the worth of his immortal soul, that God himself should pay so costly a price for its redemption! May the desire of every reader be, O 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 necessity 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 travelling tinker could gain the extraordinary knowledge, 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 Nazareth, 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—Counsellor—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, destructive ease. His hands had to labour for his bread, and to provide for a most exemplary wife and four children, 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 opportunity 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.

GEO. OFFOR. Hackney, April 1851

TO THE READER.

‘Tis strange to me, that they that love to tell Things done of old, yea, and that do excel Their equals in historiology,

Speak not of Mansoul’s wars, but let 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 obtain6

But, readers, I have somewhat else to do, Than with vain stories thus to trouble you; 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

That 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 are true; he that will them deny Must needs the best of records vilify.

For 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 his oppression.

Yea, I was there when she own’d him for Lord, And to him did submit with one accord.

When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine, And wallowed in filth as doth a swine;

When she betook herself unto her arms,

Fought her Emmanuel, despis’d his charms, Then I was there, and did rejoice to see Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.[7]

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 cover’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 primum mobile8 without delay.

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 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,[9]

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;

I saw who wounded were, and who were slain; 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; Their cry, Up, fall on, let us take the town, Kept us from sleeping, or from lying down.

I was there when the gates were broken ope, And saw how Mansoul then was stript of hope.[10]

I saw the captains march into the town,

How there they fought, and did their foes cut down.

I heard the prince bid Boanerges go

Up to the castle, and there seize his foe, And saw him and his fellows bring him down In chains of great contempt quite through the town.

I saw Emmanuel when he possest

His town of Mansoul, and how greatly blest A town, his gallant town of Mansoul was, When she received his pardon, lived his laws!

When the Diabolonians were caught,

When tried, and when to execution brought, Then I was there; yea, I was standing by When Mansoul did the rebels crucify.

I also saw Mansoul clad all in white,

And heard her prince call her his heart’s delight.

I saw him put upon her chains of gold,

And rings, and bracelets, goodly to behold.

What shall I say?—I heard the people’s cries, And saw the prince wipe tears from Mansoul’s eyes.

I 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.

Mansoul! the desire of both princes was, One keep his gain would, t’other gain his loss; Diabolus would cry, The town is mine;

Emmanuel would plead a right Divine

Unto his Mansoul; then to blows they go, And Mansoul cries, These wars will me undo.

Mansoul! her wars seem’d endless in her eyes, She’s lost by one, becomes another’s prize.

And he again that lost her last would swear, Have her I will, or her in pieces tear.

Mansoul, it was the very seat of war,

Wherefore her troubles greater were by far, Than only where the noise of war is heard, Or where the shaking of a sword is fear’d, Or only where small skirmishes are fought, Or where the fancy fighteth with a thought.

She saw the swords of fighting men made red, And heard the cries of those with them wounded; Must not her frights then be much more by far, Than theirs that to such doings strangers are?

Or theirs that hear the beating of a drum, But not made fly for fear from house and home?

Mansoul not only heard the trumpet sound, But saw her gallants gasping on the ground; Wherefore, we must not think that she could rest With them, whose greatest earnest is but jest: Or where the blust’ring threat’ning of great wars Do end in parleys, or in wording jars.

Mansoul, her mighty wars, they did portend Her weal or woe, and that world without end; Wherefore she must be more concerned than they Whose fears begin and end the self-same day: Or where none other harm doth come to him That is engaged, but loss of life or limb,[11]

As all must needs confess that now do dwell In Universe, and can this story tell.

Count me not then with them that to amaze The people, set them on the stars to gaze, Insinuating with much confidence,

That each of them is now the residence12

Of some brave creatures; yea, a world they will Have in each star, though it be past their skill To make it manifest to any man,

That reason hath, or tell his fingers can.[13]

But I have too long held thee in the porch, And kept thee from the sunshine with a torch.

Well, now go forward, step within the door, And there behold five hundred times much more Of all sorts of such inward rarities

As please the mind will, and will feed the eyes With those, which if a Christian, thou wilt see Not small, but things of greatest moment be.

Nor do thou go to work without my key

(In mysteries men soon do lose their way), And also turn it right if thou wouldst know My riddle, and wouldst with my heifer plough.

It lies there in the window,[14] fare thee well, My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.

JO. BUNYAN

A RELATION OF THE HOLY WAR

[CHAPTER I.]

[CONTENTS:—The original beauty and splendour of the town of Mansoul, while under the dominion of Shaddai—Its noble castle described—Its five gates—The perfection of its inhabitants—The origin of Diabolus—His pride and fall—Revenge meditated—A council of war held to deliberate on the best means of seducing the town of Mansoul—Diabolus marches to the town, and sits down before Eye-gate—His oration—Captain Resistance slain—My Lord Innocence killed—The town taken.]

In my travels, as I walked through many regions and countries, it was my chance to happen into that famous continent of Universe; a very large and spacious country it is. It lieth between the two poles, and just amidst the four points of the heavens. It is a place well-watered, and richly adorned