Chapter M: E. Braddon (4)

Some bag-pipe players struck up a merry tune, but Rohan, with a wild face and stern eyes, pushed his way through the throng into his cottage. On a seat by the fire his mother sat weeping, her face covered with her apron; round her was a band of sympathising friends. The scene explained itself in one flash, and Rohan Gwenfern knew his fate. Pale as death, he rushed across the floor to his mother's side, just as a troop of young girls flocked into the house singing the Marseillaise. At their head was Marcelle.

A hard struggle had gone on in the heart of Rohan's sweetheart. She had been overcome with grief when she drew the fatal number. But her dismay had quickly turned into an heroic pride at the thought of her lover becoming a soldier of Napoleon. From her childhood she had learnt from her uncle to admire and worship the great emperor who had led the armies of France from victory to victory, and she did not think that Rohan would refuse to follow him. It is true that she had often heard Gwenfern say that he loathed war; but many other men of Kromlaix had said the same thing; and yet, when the hour came, and they were called to serve in the Grand Army, they had obeyed.

"Look, Rohan!" she cried, holding up in her hand a rosette with a long, coloured streamer. "Look! I have brought this for you."

Each of the conscripts wore a similar badge, and old Corporal Derval had stuck one on his own breast. All the crowd cheered as Marcelle advanced, with bright eyes and flaming cheeks, to her sweetheart.

"Keep back! Do not touch me!" cried Rohan, his face blazing with strange anger.

"The boy's mad!" exclaimed Corporal Derval, in an angry voice.

"Do you not understand, Rohan?" exclaimed Marcelle, terrified by her lover's look. "As you did not come, someone had to draw in your name. I did so, and you are now the King of the Conscripts, and this is your badge. Let me fasten it upon your breast!"

In a moment her soft fingers attached the rosette to his jacket. Rohan did not stir; his eyes were fixed on the ground, but his features worked convulsively.

"Forward now, all of you to the inn!" said Corporal Derval, when the cheering was over. "We will drink the health of Number One!"

As everybody was moving towards the door, Rohan started as if from a trance.

"Stay!" he shouted.

All stood listening, and his widowed mother crept up and clasped his hand.

"You are all mad," he said, in a wild voice, "and I seem to be going mad, too. What is this you tell me about a conscription and an emperor? I do not understand. I only know you are all mad. Napoleon has no right to compel me to fight for him; and if every Frenchman had my heart, he would not reign another day. I refuse to be led like a sheep to the slaughter. He can kill me if he wills, but he cannot force me to kill my fellow-men. You can go if you like, and do his bloody work. Had I the power I would serve him as I serve this badge of his!"

Tearing the rosette from his breast, he cast it into the flaming fire.

"Rohan, for God's sake be silent!" cried Marcelle. "You speak like a madman. It is all my fault. I thought I should bring you good luck by drawing for you. Won't you forgive me?"

The young fisherman looked sadly into his sweetheart's face, and when he saw her wet eyes and quivering lips his heart was stirred. He took her hand and kissed it, but suddenly an ill-favoured face was thrust forward between the two lovers.

"Isn't it a pity," sneered Mikel Grallon, "to see a pretty girl wasting herself on a coward, when----"

He did not complete the sentence, for Rohan stretched out his hand and smote him down. Grallon fell like a log.

A wild cry arose from all the men, the women screamed, even Marcelle shrank back; and Rohan strode to the door, pushing his way out.

"Hold him! Kill him!" shouted some.

"Arrest him!" cried Corporal Derval.

Rohan hurled his opponents right and left like so many ninepins. They fell back and gasped. Then, turning his white face for an instant on Marcelle, her lover passed unmolested out into the darkness.

_II.--In the Cathedral of the Sea_

Along the wild, rugged shore, a little way from Kromlaix, was an immense cavern of crimson granite, hung with gleaming moss, and washed by the roaring tides of the sea. Its towering walls had been carved by wind and water into thousands of beautiful, fantastical forms, and a dim religious light fell from above through a long, funnel-shaped hole running from the roof of the cavern to the top of the great cliff.

It was here that Rohan Gwenfern hid from the band of soldiers sent in pursuit of him. The air was damp and chill, but he breathed it with the comfort of a hardy animal. He made a bed of dry seaweed on the top of the precipice leading to the hole in the cliff, where his mother came and lowered food to him every evening; and Jannedik, a pet goat that used to follow him everywhere in the days when he was a free man, was his only companion. Strange and solitary was the life he led, but he slept as soundly in his bed of seaweed on the wild precipice as he did in his bed at home.

But one morning, when he awoke, a confused murmur broke upon his ear. Peering over the ledge, he saw a crowd of soldiers standing on the shingle at the mouth of the cavern.

"Come down and surrender, in the name of the emperor!" cried the sergeant.

"Surrender!" shouted all his men. And the vast, dim place rang with the echoing sound of their voices.

"You can have my dead body if you care to come up here for it!" cried Rohan, stepping into the light that fell from the hole in the cliff.

The soldiers stared up in astonishment when Rohan appeared on the ledge of the precipice. He was now a gaunt, forlorn, hunted man, with a few rags hanging about his body, and a great shock of yellow hair tumbling below his shoulders. Under the stress of mental suffering his flesh had wasted from his bones, but his eyes flashed with a terrible light.

"Come down," said the sergeant, raising his gun, "or I will pick you off your perch as if you were a crow."

Instead of getting behind a rock, Rohan stood up with a strange smile on his face, and said, "If you want me, you must come and fetch me."

There was a flash, a roar--the sergeant had fired. But when the smoke had cleared away, Rohan was still standing on the ledge with the strange smile on his face. The shot had gone wide.

"You can smile," said the sergeant angrily, "but you cannot escape. If I cannot bring you down, I will starve you out. My men are watching for you, above and below. You are surrounded."

"And so are you," said Rohan, with a laugh, pointing to the mouth of the cavern. "Look behind you!"

The sergeant and his men turned round, and gave a cry of dismay. The tide had turned, and the sea was surging fiercely into the mouth of the cavern.

"Give him one volley," shouted the sergeant, "and then swim for your lives."

But when the men turned to aim at Rohan, he was no longer visible. They fired at random at the hole in the cliff, and after filling the great cavern with drifting smoke and echoing thunder, they fled for their lives, wading, swimming through the high spring tide.

"At any rate," said the sergeant, when they had all got safely back to land, "we can stop Mother Gwenfern from bringing the mad rebel any more food."

So a watch was set over the cottage in which Rohan's widowed mother lived, and she was always searched whenever she left her house, and bands of armed men kept guard night and day by the hole at the top of the cliff and by the seaward entrance to the cavern. At the end of two weeks the sergeant resolved to make another attack. The man, he thought, must surely have been starved to death, as every avenue of aid had long since been blocked.

So one moonlight night at ebb tide the crowd of soldiers crept into the cavern and lashed two long ladders together, and began to climb up the precipice. But a strong arm seized the ladders from above, and flung them back on the granite floor of the cave. Standing like a ghost in the faint, silvery radiance falling through the hole in the cliff, Rohan hurled down upon the dark mass of the besieging crowd great fragments of rock which he had placed, ready for use, along the ledge on which he slept.

"Fire Fire!" shrieked the sergeant, pointing at the white figure of Rohan.

But before the command could be obeyed, Rohan got under shelter, and the bullets rained harmlessly round the spot where he had just stood. Then, under cover of fire, some men advanced and again placed the ladder against the precipice. As Rohan crouched down on the ledge, he was startled by the apparition of a human face. With a cry of rage, he sprang to his feet, and, heedless of the bullets thudding on the rock around him, he slowly and painfully lifted up a terrible granite boulder, poised it for a moment over his head, and then hurled it down at the shapes dimly struggling below him. There was a crash, a shriek. Under the weight of the boulder the ladders broke, and the men upon them fell down, amid horrible cries of agony and terror.

What happened after this Rohan never knew; for, overcome by frenzy and fatigue, he swooned away. When he opened his eyes, he was lying beneath the hole in the cliff, with the moonlight streaming upon his face. From below him came the soft sound of lapping water, and, looking down, he saw that the tide had entered the cave, and forced the besiegers to give over their attack.

Yes, the battle was over, and he had conquered! His position indeed was impregnable; had he been well supplied with food, he could have held it against hundreds of men for a long period. But, as he laid down on his bed of seaweed, a rough tongue licked his hand. It was his goat, Jannedik. For the last fortnight, Rohan's mother had sent the goat every day to her son with a basket of food tied round its neck and hidden in the long hair of its throat. Rohan groped in the darkness for the basket, and Jannedik uttered a low cry of pain, rolled over at his feet into the moonlight, revealing a terrible bullet-wound in its side, and quivered and died. Some soldier had shot it.

As Rohan stared at the dead body of his four-footed friend, the strength of mind which had enabled him to withstand all the power that Napoleon, the conqueror of Europe, could bring against him at last went from him. Trembling and shivering, he looked around him, overcome by utter desolation and despair. He had held out bravely, but he could hold out no longer; slowly and laboriously he climbed down the dark face of the precipice, and reached the narrow strip of shingle below, just as the moon got clear from a cloud and lighted up the cavern. Its cold rays fell on the white face of the sergeant, who laid half on the shingle and half in the water, crushed by the great boulder with which Rohan had broken down the ladders.

Rohan gazed for a moment on the features of the man he had killed, and then, with a cry of agony and despair, he fell upon his knees.

"Not on my head, O God, be the guilt!" he prayed. "Not on my head, but on his who hunted me down and made me what I am; on his, whose red sword shadows all the world, and drives on millions of innocent men to murder each other! Ah, God, God, God! The men that Napoleon has slain! Is it not high time that some man like me sought him out and killed him, and brought peace back once more to this blood-covered earth of ours? Yes, I will do it!"

Rising wildly to his feet, full of the strange strength and the strange powers of madness, Rohan Gwenfern climbed up the precipice to his bed of seaweed, and then took a path that no man had taken and lived--the sheer, precipitous path from the roof of the cavern to the top of the cliff.

_III.--Rohan Meets Napoleon_

As the Grand Army swept into Belgium for the last great battle against the united powers of England, Germany, Austria, and Russia, a strange, savage creature followed it--a gaunt, half-naked man, with long yellow hair falling almost to his waist, and bloodshot eyes with a look of madness in them. How he lived it is difficult to tell. He never begged, but the soldiers threw lumps of bread at him as he prowled round their camp-fires, asking everyone whom he met: "Where is the emperor? Where is Napoleon? Do you think he will come this way?"

Twice he had been arrested as a spy, and hastily condemned to be shot. But each time, on hearing his sentence of death, he gave so strange a laugh that the officer examined him more closely, and then set him free, saying with scornful pity, "It is a harmless maniac. Let him go."

He always lagged in the rear of the advancing army, and as each fresh regiment arrived he mingled with the soldiers, and asked them in a fierce whisper, "Is the emperor coming now? Isn't he coming?"

At last, one dark rainy evening, the wild outcast saw the man for whom he was seeking. Wrapped in an old grey overcoat, and wearing a cocked hat from which the rain dripped heavily, Napoleon stood on a hill, with his hands clasped behind his back, his head sunk deep between his shoulders, looking towards Ligny. But he was guarded; a crowd of officers stood close behind him, waiting for orders.

Suddenly a bareheaded soldier came riding along the road, spurring and flogging his horse as if for dear life; galloping wildly up the hill he handed the emperor a dispatch. Napoleon glanced at it, and spoke to his staff officers. With a wild movement of joy they drew their swords, and waved them in the air, shouting, "_Vive l'Empereur!"_ Napoleon smiled. His star was again in the ascendant! The Prussians were retreating from Ligny; he had struck the first blow, and it was a victory!

Near the hill on which he was standing was a deserted farmhouse; he gave orders that it should be prepared for his reception. But, as he rode down the hill at the head of his staff, the man who had been watching him divined his intention, and reached the house before his attendants. The soldiers who searched the place before Napoleon entered failed to see the dark figure crouching up in the corner of a loft among the black rafters.

"Leave me," said Napoleon to his men, after he had finished the plain meal of bread and wine set before him.

To-morrow he would meet for the first time, on the rolling fields of Waterloo, the only captain of a European army whom he had not defeated. He wanted to think his plans of battle over in silence. Some time he paced up and down the room, his chin drooping forward on his breast, and his hands clasped upon his back. Through the wide, clear spaces of his mind great armies passed in black procession, moving like storm-clouds over the stricken earth; burning cities rose in the distance, amid the shrieks of dying men, and the thunder of cannon. His plan was at last matured. Victory? Yes, that was certain! So his thoughts ran. An aide-de-camp entered with a dispatch. He tore it open, and ran his eye over it.

"It is nothing," he said. "Don't disturb me for two hours except on a matter of great importance. I want to sleep."

Going up to the old armchair of oak that was set before the fire, he fell on his knees, and covered his eyes and prayed.

"What!" said the man who was watching him up in the rafters. "Does Cain dare to pray? Surely God will not answer his prayers! He is praying that he may wipe the English to-morrow from the face of the earth, and again cement his throne with blood, and forge his sceptre of fire!"

That, no doubt, was what Napoleon prayed for. Yet, when he rose up his face was wonderfully changed and softened by the religious light which had shone on it for a few moments. Then, throwing himself into the armchair, he closed his eyes. And, as the fire burnt low, Rohan Gwenfern silently descended from the loft, and something gleamed in his hand. He crept up to the sleeping emperor, and stared at his face, reading it line by line. Napoleon moved uneasily in his sleep, and murmured to himself, and his hand opened and shut.

As Rohan raised his knife to strike home to the heart of the tyrant he saw the hand--white and small, like a woman's or a child's. Again he looked at the face. Ah, there was no imperial grandeur here! Only a feeble, sallow, tired, and sickly creature, whom a strong man could crush down with one blow of his fist. Rohan grew weak as he looked, and the long knife almost fell from his clutch.

"I must kill him--I must kill him!" he kept saying to himself. "His one life against the peace and happiness of earth--the life of a Cain! If he awakens, war will awaken, and fire, famine, and slaughter! Kill him, Rohan, kill him!"

Perhaps if Napoleon had not prayed before he slept, his enemy would have carried out his purpose. But he had prayed; his face had become beautiful for a moment, and he fell asleep as fearlessly as a child. No! Rohan Gwenfern was not made of the stuff of which savage assassins are formed; though there was madness in his brain, there was still love in his heart. He could not kill even Cain, when God had sanctified the murderer with sleep. God had made Napoleon, and God had sent him; bloody as he was, he, too, was God's child.

Opening the great casement window of the room in the farmhouse, Gwenfern gazed for a moment with wild eyes and quivering lips on the pale, worn face of the great conqueror, and then leaped out into the darkness. When Napoleon awoke, a long knife was lying at his feet; but he heeded it not, and little dreamt that a few minutes ago it had been pointed at his heart.

Ah, Rohan Gwenfern had done well to leave the mighty emperor in the hands of God, and go back, a wild, tattered, mad beggar to his sweetheart Marcelle, in the little Breton village of Kromlaix. For as Napoleon came out of the farmhouse, and looked at the dawning sky, there rose up, clouding the lurid star of his destiny, the blood-red shadow-- WATERLOO!

* * * * *

JOHN BUNYAN

The Holy War

John Bunyan was born at Elstow, near Bedford, England, in
1628. After receiving a scanty education at the village
school, he worked hard at the forge with his father. In his
sixteenth year he lost his mother, and soon after he joined
the army, then engaged in the Civil War; but his military
experience lasted only a few months. Returning to Elstow, he
again worked at the forge, and married. After various
alternating religious experiences, in 1655 he became a member
of the Baptist congregation at Bedford, of which he was ere
long chosen pastor. His success was extraordinary; but after
five years his ministry was prohibited, and he was
incarcerated in Bedford Gaol, his imprisonment lasting for
twelve years. There he wrote his immortal "Pilgrim's
Progress." Released under the Act of Indulgence, he resumed
his ministry, and ultimately his pastoral charge in Bedford.
He took fever when on a visit to London, and died on August
31, 1688. The "Holy War" is considered by critics even
superior to the "Pilgrim," inasmuch as it betrays a finer
literary workmanship. It was written in 1682, after
molestation of Bunyan as a preacher had ceased, and when he
was known widely as the author of the first part of the
"Pilgrim's Progress," the second part of which was published
two years later. Macaulay held that if there had been no
"Pilgrim's Progress," "Holy War" would have been the first of
religious allegories. No doubt its popularity has been due in
some degree to its kinship to that work; but the vigour of its
style overcomes the minute elaboration of an almost impossible
theme, and the book lives, alike as literature and theology,
by its own vitality. An elaborate analysis of it may be found
in Froude's volume on Bunyan. He said of it: "'The Holy War'
would have entitled Bunyan to a place among the masters of
English Literature."

_I.--The Founding of Mansoul_

In the gallant country of Universe there is a fair and delicate town, a corporation called Mansoul, a town for its building so curious, for its situation so commodious, for its privileges so advantageous, that there is not its equal under the whole heaven.

As to the situation of the town, it lieth between two worlds, and the first founder and builder of it was one Shaddai, who built it for his own delight. And as he made it goodly to behold, so also mighty to have dominion over all the country round about.

There was reared up in the midst of this town a most famous and stately place--for strength it may be called a castle; for pleasantness, a paradise. This place King Shaddai intended for himself alone, and not another with him; and of it he made a garrison, but committed the keeping of it only to the men of the town.

This famous town of Mansoul had five gates--Eargate, Eyegate, Mouthgate, Nosegate, and Feelgate. It had always a sufficiency of provisions within its walls, and it had the best, most wholesome and excellent law that was then extant in the world. There was not a rogue, rascal, or traitorous person within its walls; they were all true men, and fast joined together.

_II.--The Plot and Capture_

Well, upon a time there was one Diabolus, a mighty giant, made an assault upon the famous town of Mansoul, to take it, and make it his own habitation. This Diabolus was first one of the servants of King Shaddai, by whom he was raised to a most high and mighty place. But he, seeing himself thus exalted to greatness and honour, and raging in his mind for higher state and degree, what doth he but begin to think with himself how he might set up as lord over all, and have the sole power under Shaddai--but that the king had reserved for his son. Wherefore Diabolus first consults with himself what had best to be done, and then breaks his mind to some others of his companions, to which they also agreed. So they came to the issue that they should make an attempt upon the king's son to destroy him, that the inheritance might be theirs.

Now, the king and his son, being all and always eye, could not but discern all passages in his dominions; wherefore, what does he but takes them in the very nick, and the first trip that they made towards their design, convicts them of the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy that they had devised, and casts them altogether out of all place of trust, benefit, honours, and preferment; and this done, he banishes them the court, turns them down into horrid pits, never more to expect the least favour at his hands.

Banished from his court, you may be sure they would now add to their former pride, malice and rage against Shaddai. Wherefore, roving and ranging in much fury from place to place, if perhaps they might find something that was the king's, they happened into this spacious country of Universe, and steered their course to Mansoul. So when they found the place, they shouted horribly on it for joy, saying: "Now have we found the prize, and how to be revenged on King Shaddai!" So they sat down and called a council of war.

Now, with Diabolus was, among others, the fierce Alecto, and Apollyon, and the mighty giant Beelzebub, and Lucifer, and Legion. And Legion it was whose advice was taken that they should assault the town in all pretended fairness, covering their intentions with lies, flatteries, and delusive words; feigning things that will never be, and promising that to them which they shall never find. It was designed also that, by a stratagem, they should destroy one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called Captain Resistance--a man that the giant Diabolus and his band more feared than they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides. And they appointed one Tisiphone to do it.

Thus, having ended the council of war, they rose up and marched towards Mansoul; but all in a manner invisible, save only Diabolus, who approached the town in the shape and body of a dragon. So they drew up and sat down before Eargate, and laid their ambuscade for Mr. Resistance within a bow shot of the town. Then Diabolus, being come to the gate, sounded his trumpet for audience, at which the chiefs of the town, such as my lord Innocent, my lord Will-be-will, Mr. Recorder, and Captain Resistance, came down to the wall to see who was there and what was the matter.

Diabolus then began his oration.

"Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, I have somewhat of concern to impart unto you. And first I will assure you it is not my own but your advantage that I seek. I am come to show you how you may obtain ample deliverance from a bondage that, unawares to yourselves, you are captivated and enslaved under."

At this the town of Mansoul began to prick up its ears.

"And what is it, pray? What is it?" thought they.

Then Diabolus spoke on.

"Touching your king, I know he is great and potent; but his laws are unreasonable, intricate, and intolerable. There is a great difference and disproportion betwixt the life and an apple, yet one must go for the other by the law of your Shaddai. Why should you be holden in ignorance and blindness? O ye inhabitants of Mansoul, ye are not a free people! And is it not grievous to think on, that the very thing you are forbidden to do, might you but do it would yield you both wisdom and honour?"

And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance, where he stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in the head, so that he, to the amazement of the townsmen, fell down quite dead over the wall. Now, when Captain Resistance was dead--and he was the only man of war in the town--poor Mansoul was left wholly naked of courage. Then stood forth Mr. Ill-pause, that Diabolus brought with him as his orator, and persuaded the townsfolk to take of the tree which King Shaddai had forbidden; and when they 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 took and did eat. Now even while this Ill-pause was making his speech, my lord Innocent--whether by a shot from the camp of the giant, or from some qualm that suddenly took him, or whether by the stinking breath of that treacherous villain, old Ill-pause, for so I am most apt to think--sunk down in the place where he stood still, nor could he be brought to life again.

Now, these brave men being dead, what do the rest of the townsfolk but fall down and yield obedience to Diabolus, and having eaten of the forbidden fruit, they become drunk therewith, and so opened both Eargate and Eyegate, and let in Diabolus and all his band, quite forgetting their good Shaddai and his law.

Diabolus now bethinks himself of remodelling the town for his greater security, setting up one and putting down another at pleasure. Wherefore he put out of power and place my lord mayor, whose name was my lord Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience. But my lord Will-be-will, a man of great strength, resolution, and courage, resolved to bear office under Diabolus, who, perceiving the willingness of my lord to serve him forthwith, made him captain of the castle, governor of the walls, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul. He also had Mr. Mind for his clerk.

When the giant had thus engarrisoned himself in the town of Mansoul, he betakes himself to defacing. Now, there was in the market-place, and also in the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed King Shaddai. This he commanded to be defaced, and it was basely done by the hand of Mr. No-truth. Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of the remains of the laws and statutes of Shaddai, and set up his own vain edicts, such as gave liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the pride of life.

_III.--The Re-Taking of Mansoul_

Now, as you may well think, long before this time, word was carried to the good King Shaddai that Mansoul was lost, and it would have amazed one to have seen what sorrow and compunction of spirit there was among all sorts at the king's court to think that the place was taken. But the king and his son foresaw all this before, yea, had sufficiently provided for the relief of Mansoul, though they told not everybody thereof. Wherefore, after consultation, the son of Shaddai--a sweet and comely person, and one that always had great affection for those that were in affliction--having striven hard with his father, promised that he would be his servant to recover Mansoul. The purport of this agreement was that at a certain time, prefixed by both, the king's son should take a journey into the country of Universe, and there, in a way of justice and equity, make amends for the follies of Mansoul, and lay the foundation of her perfect deliverance.

Now King Shaddai thought good at the first not to send his army by 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 they would be won to the obedience of their king. So they came up to Mansoul under the conduct of four stout generals, each man being captain of ten thousand men, and having his standard-bearer.

Having travelled for many days, at the king's cost, not hurting or abusing any, they came within sight of Mansoul, the which, when they saw, the captains could for their hearts do no less than bewail the condition of the town, for they quickly perceived it was prostrate to the will of Diabolus.

Well, before the king's forces had set before Mansoul three days, Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to go down to Eargate to summon Mansoul to give audience to the message he was commanded to deliver, but there was none that appeared to give answer or regard.

Again and again was the summons sounded, till at last the townsmen came up--having first made Eargate as sure as they could. So my lord Incredulity, came up and showed himself over the wall. But when the captain had set eyes on him he cried out aloud, "This is not he; where is my lord Understanding, the ancient mayor of the town of Mansoul?" Then stood forth the four captains, and, taking no notice of the giant Diabolus, each addressed himself to the town of Mansoul; but their brave speeches the town refused to hear, yet the sound thereof beat against Eargate, though the force thereof could not break it open.

Then Diabolus commanded the lord mayor Incredulity to give answer, and his oration was seconded by desperate Will-be-will, while the recorder, whose name was Forget-good, followed with threats. Then did the town of Mansoul shout for joy, as if by Diabolus and his crew some great advantage had been obtained over the captains. They also rang the bells, and sang and made merry, and danced for joy upon the walls. Now, when the captains heard the answer of the great ones, and they could not get a hearing from the old natives of the town, they resolved to try it out by the power of the arm; so with their slings they battered the houses, and with rams they sought to break Eargate open, but Mansoul stood it out so lustily that after several skirmishes and brisk encounters they made a fair retreat and entrenched themselves in their winter quarters.

But now could not Mansoul sleep securely as before, nor could they go to their debaucheries with quietness, as in times past, for they had from the camp of Shaddai such frequent warm alarms, yea, alarms upon alarms, first at one gate and then at another, and again at all the gates at once, that they were broken as to former peace; yea, so distressed were they that I daresay Diabolus, their king, had in these days his rest much broken. And by degrees new thoughts possessed the minds of the men of the town. Some would say, "There is no living thus." Others would then reply, "This will be over shortly." Then a third would answer, "Let us turn to King Shaddai, and so put an end to all these troubles." The old gentlemen, too, Mr. Conscience, the recorder that was so before Diabolus took Mansoul, began to talk aloud, and his words were now like great claps of thunder. Yea, so far as I could gather, the town had been surrendered before now had it not been for the opposition of old Incredulity and the fickleness of my lord Will-be-will.

They of the king's army this winter sent three times to Mansoul to submit herself, and these summonses, especially the two last, so distressed the town that presently they called a consultation for a parley, and offered to come to an agreement on certain terms, but they were such that the captains, jointly and with the highest disdain, rejected, and returned to their trenches.

The captains then gathered themselves together for a conference, and agreed that a petition should forthwith be drawn up and forwarded by a fit man to Shaddai, with speed, that more forces be sent to Mansoul. Now, the king at sight of the petition was glad; but how much more, think you, when it was seconded by his son. Wherefore, the king called to him Emmanuel, his son, and said, "Come now, therefore, my son, and prepare thyself for war, for thou shalt go to my camp at Mansoul; thou shalt also there prosper and prevail."

The time for the setting forth being expired, the king's son addresses himself for the march and taketh with him five noble captains and their forces. So they sat down before the town, not now against the gates only, but environed it round on every side. But first, for two days together, they hung out the white flag to give the townsfolk time to consider; but they, as if they were unconcerned, made no reply to this favourable signal, so they then set the red flag upon the mount called Mount Justice.

When Emmanuel had put all things in readiness to bid Diabolus battle, he sent again to know of the town of Mansoul if in peaceable manner they would yield themselves. They then, together with Diabolus, their king, called a council of war, and resolved on certain propositions that should be offered to Emmanuel.

Now, there was in the town of Mansoul an old man, a Diabolonian, and his name was Mr. Loath-to-Stoop, a stiff man in his way, and a great doer for Diabolus; him, therefore, they sent, and put into his mouth what he should say. But none of his proposals would Emmanuel grant--all his ensnaring propositions were rejected, and Mr. Loath-to-Stoop departed.

Then was an alarm sounded, and the battering-rams were played, and the slings whirled stones into the town amain, and thus the battle began. And the word was at that time "Emmanuel." First Captain Boanerges made three assaults, most fierce, one after another, upon Eargate, to the shaking of the posts thereof. Captain Conviction also made up fast with Boanerges, and both discovering that the gate began to yield, they commanded that the rams should still be played against it. But Captain Conviction, going up very near to the gate, was with great force driven back, and received three wounds in the mouth. Nor did Captain Good-hope nor Captain Charity come behind in this most desperate fight, for they too so behaved at Eyegate that they had almost broken it quite open. And this took away the hearts of many of the Diabolonians. As for Will-be- will, I never saw him so daunted in my life, and some say he got a wound in the leg.

When the battle was over Diabolus again attempted to make terms by proposing a surrender on the condition that he should remain in the town as Emmanuel's deputy, and press upon the people a reformation according to law; but Emmanuel replied that nothing would be regarded that he could propose, for he had neither conscience to God nor love to the town of Mansoul. Diabolus therefore withdrew himself from the walls to the fort in the heart of the town, and, filled with despair of retaining the town in his hands, resolved to do it what mischief he could; for, said he, "Better demolish the place and leave it a heap of ruins than that it should be a habitation for Emmanuel."

Knowing the next battle would issue in his being master of the place, Emmanuel gave out a royal commandment to all his men of war to show themselves men of war against Diabolus and all Diabolonians, but favourable and meek to the old inhabitants of Mansoul. Then, after three or four notable charges, Eargate was burst open, and the bolts and bars broken into a thousand pieces. Then did the prince's trumpets sound, the captains shout, the town shake, and Diabolus retreat to his hold. And there was a great slaughter till the Diabolonians lay dead in every corner--though too many were yet alive in Mansoul. Now, the old recorder and my lord Understanding, with some others of the chief of the town, came together, and jointly agreed to draw up a petition, and send it to Emmanuel while he sat in the gate of Mansoul. The contents of the petition were these: "That they--the old inhabitants of the 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." Unto this petition he gave no answer. After some time and travail the gate of the castle was beaten open, and so a way was made to go into the hold where Diabolus had hid himself.

Now, when he was come to the castle gates he commanded Diabolus to surrender himself into his hands. But, oh, how loath was the beast to appear! How he stuck at it! How he shrunk! How he cringed! Then Emmanuel commanded, and they took Diabolus, and bound him first in chains, and led him to the market-place, and stripped him of his armour. Thus having made Diabolus naked in the eyes of Mansoul, the prince commands that he shall be bound with chains to his chariot-wheels, and he rode in triumph over him quite through the town. And, having finished this part of his triumph over Diabolus, he turned him up in the midst of his contempt and shame. Then went he from Emmanuel, and out of his camp to inherit parched places in a salt land, seeking rest but finding none.

Now, the prince, having by special orders put my lord Understanding, Mr. Conscience, and my lord Will-be-will in ward, they again drew up a petition and sent it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr. Would-Live, and this being unanswered, they used as their messenger Mr. Desires-Awake, and with him went Mr. Wet-Eyes, a near neighbour. Then the prisoners were ordered to go down to the camp and appear before the prince. This they did with drooping spirits and ropes round their necks. But the prince gave them their pardon, embraced them, took away their ropes, and put chains of gold round their necks. He also sent by the recorder a pardon for all the people of Mansoul.

Then the prince commanded that the image of Diabolus should be taken down from the place where it was set up, and that they should utterly destroy it without the town wall; and that the image of Shaddai, his father, should be set up again with his own. Moreover, he renewed the charter of the city, and brought forth out of his treasury white glittering robes and granted to the people that they should put them on, so that they were put into fine linen, white and clean. Then said the prince unto them, "This, O Mansoul, is my livery, and the badge by which mine are known from the servants of others. Wear them if you would be known by the world to be mine."

_IV.--The Downfall_

But there was a man in the town named Mr. Carnal-Security, and he brought this corporation into great, grievous bondage. When Emmanuel perceived that through the policy of Mr. Carnal-Security the hearts of men were chilled and abated in their practical love for him, he in private manner withdrew himself first from his palace, then to the gate of the town, and so away from Mansoul till they should more earnestly seek his face.

Then the Diabolonians who yet dwelt in Mansoul sent letters to Diabolus, who promised to come to their assistance for the ruin of the town with twenty thousand Doubters. Diabolus suddenly making an assault on Feelgate, the gate was forced and the prince's men were compelled to betake themselves to the castle as the stronghold of the town, leaving the townsmen open to the ravages of the Doubters. Still the castle held out, and more urgent petitions to Emmanuel, carried by Captain Credence, brought at last the assurance that he would come presently to the relief of the town.

Indeed, before that time Diabolus had thought it wise to withdraw his men from the town to the plain; but here the Doubters, being caught between the defenders of the city and the rescuing army of Emmanuel, were slain to the last man, and buried in the plains.

Even yet Diabolus was not satisfied with his defeat, but determined on a last attempt upon the town, his army being made up of ten thousand Doubters and fifteen thousand Blood-men, all rugged villains. But Mr. Prywell discovered their coming, and they were put to route by the prince's captains, the Blood-men being surrounded and captured.

And so Mansoul arrived at some degree of peace and quiet, and her prince also abode within her borders. Then the prince appointed a day when he should meet the whole of the townsmen in the market-place, and they being come together, he said, "Now, my Mansoul, I have 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 the beginning.

"Yet a little while, and I will take down this famous town of Mansoul, street and stone, to the ground, and will set it up in such strength and glory in mine own country as it never did see in the kingdom where now it is placed. There, O my Mansoul, thou shalt be afraid of murderers no more, of Diabolonians no more. There shall be no more plots, nor contrivances, nor designs against thee. But first I charge thee that thou dost hereafter keep more white and clean the liveries which I gave thee. When thy garments are white, the world will count thee mine. And now that thou mayest keep them white I have provided for thee an open fountain to wash thy garments in. I have oft-times delivered thee, and for all this I ask thee nothing but that thou bear in mind my love. Nothing can hurt thee but sin, nothing can grieve me but sin, nothing make thee pause before thy foes but sin. Watch! Behold, I lay none other burden upon thee--hold fast till I come!"

* * * * *

The Pilgrim's Progress

The "Pilgrim's Progress" was begun during Bunyan's second and
briefer term of imprisonment in Bedford gaol. As originally
conceived, the work was something entirely different from the
masterpiece that was finally produced. Engaged upon a
religious treatise, Bunyan had occasion to compare Christian
progress to a pilgrimage--a simile by no means uncommon even
in those days. Soon he discovered a number of points which had
escaped his predecessors, and countless images began to crowd
quickly upon his imaginative brain. Released at last from
gaol, he still continued his work, acquainting no one with his
labours, and receiving the help of none. The "Pilgrim," on its
appearance in 1678, was but a moderate success; but it was not
long before its charm made itself felt, and John Bunyan
counted his readers by the thousand in Scotland, in the
Colonies, in Holland, and among the Huguenots of France.
Within ten years 100,000 copies were sold. With the exception
of the Bible, it is, perhaps, the most widely-read book in the
English language, and has been translated into seventy foreign
tongues.

_I.--The Battle with Apollyon_

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where there was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed I saw a man, clothed with rags, standing with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.

"O my dear wife and children!" he said, "I am informed that our city will be burnt with fire from heaven. We shall all come to ruin unless we can find a way of escape!"

His relations and friends thought that some distemper had got into his head; but he kept crying, in spite of all that they said to quieten him, "What shall I do to be saved?" He looked this way and that way, but could not tell which road to take. And a man named Evangelist came to him, and he said to Evangelist, "Whither must I fly?"

"Do you see yonder wicket gate?" said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field. "Go there, and knock, and you will be told what to do."

I saw in my dream that the man began to run, and his wife and children cried after him to return, but the man ran on, crying, "Life! life! eternal life!"

Two of his neighbours pursued him and overtook him. Their names were Obstinate and Pliable.

"Come, come, friend Christian," said Obstinate. "Why are you hurrying away in this manner from the City of Destruction, in which you were born?"

"Because I have read in my book," replied Christian, "that it will be consumed with fire from heaven. I pray you, good neighbours, come with me, and seek for some way of escape."

After listening to all that Christian said, Pliable resolved to go with him, but Obstinate returned to the City of Destruction in scorn.

"What! Leave my friends and comforts for such a brain-sick fellow as you? No, I will go back to my own home."

Christian and Pliable walked on together, without looking whither they were going, and in the midst of the plain they fell into a very miry slough, which was called the Slough of Despond. Here they wallowed for a time, and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the mire.

"Is this the happiness you told me of?" said Pliable. "If I get out again with my life, you shall make your journey alone."

With a desperate effort he got out of the mire, and went back, leaving Christian alone in the Slough of Despond. As Christian struggled under his burden towards the wicket gate, I saw in my dream that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and drew him out, and set him upon sound ground. But before Christian could get to the wicket gate, Mr. Worldly Wiseman came and spoke to him.

"How now, good fellow!" said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "Where are you going with that heavy burden on your back?"

"To yonder wicket gate," said Christian. "For there, Evangelist told me, I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden."

"Evangelist is a dangerous and troublesome fellow," said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "Do not follow his counsel. Hear me: I am older than you. I can tell you an easy way to get rid of your burden. You see the village on yonder high hill?"

"Yes," said Christian. "I remember the village is called Morality."

"It is," said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "There you will find a very judicious gentleman whose name is Mr. Legality. If he is not in, inquire for his son, Mr. Civility. Both of them have great skill in helping men to get burdens off their shoulders."

Christian resolved to follow Mr. Worldly Wiseman's advice. But, as he was painfully climbing up the high hill, Evangelist came up to him, and said, "Are you not the man that I found crying in the City of Destruction, and directed to the little wicket gate? How is it that you have gone so far out of the way?"

Christian blushed for shame, and said that he had been led astray by Mr. Worldly Wiseman.

"Mr. Worldly Wiseman," said Evangelist, "is a wicked man. Mr. Legality is a cheat, and his son, Mr. Civility, is a hypocrite. If you listen to them they will beguile you of your salvation, and turn you from the right way."

Evangelist then set Christian in the true path which led to the wicket gate, over which was written, "Knock, and it shall be opened unto you." And Christian knocked, and a grave person, named Goodwill, opened the gate and let him in. I saw in my dream that Christian asked him to help him off with the burden that was upon his back, and Goodwill pointed to a narrow way running from the wicket gate, and said, "Do you see that narrow way? That is the way you must go. Keep to it, and do not turn down any of the wide and crooked roads, and you will soon come to the place of deliverance, where your burden will fall from your back of itself."

Christian then took his leave of Goodwill, and climbed up the narrow way till he came to a place upon which stood a cross. And I saw in my dream that as Christian came to the cross, his burden fell from off his back, and he became glad and lightsome. He gave three leaps for joy, and went on his way singing, and at nightfall he came to a very stately palace, the name of which was Beautiful. Four grave and lovely damsels, named Charity, Discretion, Prudence, and Piety, met him at the threshold, saying, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord! This palace was built on purpose to entertain such pilgrims as thou."

Christian sat talking with the lovely damsels until supper was ready, and then they led him to a table that was furnished with fat things, and excellently fine wines. And after Christian had refreshed himself, the damsels showed him into a large chamber, whose window opened towards the sun-rising. The name of the chamber was Peace, and there Christian slept till break of day. Then he awoke, singing for joy, and the damsels took him into the armoury, and dressed him for battle. They harnessed him in armour of proof, and gave him a stout shield and a good sword; for, they said, he would have to fight many a battle before he got to the Celestial City.

And I saw in my dream that Christian went down the hill on which the House Beautiful stood, and came to a valley, that was called the Valley of Humiliation, where he was met by a foul fiend, Apollyon.