THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 39 ferings, with great patience and resignation to the will of God, in submission to which, however, he "desired to depart and be with Christ." In this frame of spirit he lay about ten days, when he crossed the mystical Jordan, August 31st, 1688, following his Christian Pilgrim to the celestial city. He was buried in a vault belonging to a friend in the Dissenters' burial-place, adjoining the Artillery Ground, Moorfields-since Bun-hill-fields, traditionally supposed to have been so called from his having been one of the first buried there. Mr. Bunyan was twice married. By his first wife, Elizabeth, he had four children, one of whom, named Mary, was blind, and died before him. He married his second wife about 1658, and she survived him only about four years, dying in 1692. It does not appear that she had any children. Nor have we any farther account of his children by his former wife, so that he appears in history, as an il lustrious pen expresses it, "an isolated individual,” without progenitors, and without descendants. As to his person and temper, his character is thus delineated by the continuator of his life: "He appeared in countenance to be of a stern and rough temper; but in his conversation mild and affable, not given to much discourse in company, unless some urgent occasion required it; observing never to boast of himself, or his parts, but rather submit himself to the judgment of others; abhorring lying and swearing, being just in all that lay in his power to his word; not seeming to revenge injuries, loving to reconcile differences, and make friendship with all. He had a sharp, quick eye, accompanied with an excellent discerning of persons, being of good judgment and quick wit. As for his person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, though not corpulent, somewhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes, wearing his hair upon his upper lip after the old British fashion: his hair reddish, but in his latter days, time had sprinkled it with gray; his nose well set, but 4.0 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. not declining or bending, and his mouth moderate large, his forehead something high, and his habit always plain and modest." His works form two large volumes in folio, and contain, according to Mr. GRAINGER, (a) as many tracts as he had lived years: a great part of them were probably the substance of his pulpit discourses, which he used commonly to commit to writing, not before, but after, he had preached them. (a) Biog. Hist. of Eng. THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand, And thus it was: I, writing of the way About their journey, and the way to glory, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 42 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. Well, so I did; but yet I did not think Neither did I but vacant seasons spend From worser thoughts, which made me do amiss. Thus I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. For having now my method by the end, Still as I pull'd it came; and so I penn'd It down, until at last it came to be, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well, when I had put my ends together, I shew'd them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify; And some said, Let him live; some, Let him die; Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so. Some said, It might do good; others said, No. Now I was in a strait, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me At last I thought, since you are thus divided, I print it will; and so the case decided. For, thought I, some I see would have it done, Tho' others in that channel do not run : To prove then who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. I farther thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it, thus to gratify, I did not know, but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight: THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. For those which were not for its coming forth, If that you would not read, let it alone: Some love the meat, some love to pick a bone. Yea, that I might them better moderate, I did too with them thus expostulate : 48 May I not write in such a style as this? In such a method too, and yet not miss My end, thy good? Why may it not be done? Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none. Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either, But treasures up the fruit they yield together; Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit None can distinguish this from that; they suit Her well, when hungry; but if she be full, She spews out both, and makes their blessing null. You see the ways the fisherman doth take How does the fowler seek to catch his game |