net. realism will not give his saints one unlikely virtue,
or his fools
PURITANISM in its day produced many noble figures of men, but Cromwell and Bunyan were its most typical representa- tives, and therefore, in a sense, the most characteristic Englishmen in our history. For the creed, when stripped of its extravagances, held the true genius of England ; its code of life and thought came from the very fibres of our national character. One of the two, being a man of action, is still a living figure to our minds, but the personality of the other is hidden behind his immortal book. To many of us Bunyan is no more real than the uncertain authors of some of the books of Scripture. We know vaguely that he was a tinker by trade, that he led on his own confession a stormy youth, that he lay for some time in gaol, that he was the soberest of politicians, and that in the end he became a noted preacher in his denomination. History, indeed, gives us few details, but we have enough to frame the portrait of a remarkable man, remarkable though he had never written a line. The life of Bunyan read in the light of his works, and The Pilgrim's Progress with its author's career as a commentary, are human documents beyond praise. The pious labours of Dr. Brown of Bedford have made many details clear, and in the present volume we have an epitome of the life in the light of recent knowledge as well as a subtle and searching study of the man. No more perfect biographer could have been found for Bunyan than the author of Mark Rutherford. There is something Puritanical in the exquisite simplicity of his style, his high seriousness, his keen sympathy, which is saved from partisanship by the breadth and philosophy of his outlook. Understanding the hidden deepe of Bunyan's spiritual life, he has expounded his character, not in the formulas of a sect, but in the eternal phrases of humanity. To understand and value Bunyan we need "not theological learning, nor in fact any kind of learning or literary skill, but the experience of life, with its hopes and fears, bright day and black night." Like Cromwell, he was compact of weakness and strength. Tortured by doubts, burdened with the fear of the Lord, both went forth to
* (1) John Bunyan. By the Author of "Lark Rutherford," to. London : Hodder and Stoughton. [3s. 6d.) —(2) The Pilgrim's Progress. 135 John Bulan. Illustrated by Byam Shaw. Iromdon : T. C. and E. C. Jack. [10s. col
wistfulness the keenest, clearest insight into human nature, and a strong common-sense to lay hold on facts. "At the clay of Doom," said Christian, "men shall be judged by their fruits. It will not be said then, 'Did you believe?' but 'Were you doers or talkers only ? " In religion it was the direct experience on which Bunyan based his faith. In Grace Abounding his atheism departed, not because it was dig"- proved, but because "God and Christ were continually before my face." His religion was a concrete thing ; the life of the saint was not an abstract growth in grace, but a pilgrimage ;
his hero was not a disputant, but a soldier. It is this intense, love of fact and deeds, joined with his visualising power, which makes him the great allegorist. He sees the spiritual life in a picture, and he sees that picture so distinctly that he makes every one else see it. "Religion," says his bio- grapher, "is dead when the imagination deserts it. When it
is alive, abstractions become visible and walk about on roads." And because he was not only an observer, but a poet, realism and idealism join hands in the simplest, directest, and pro- foundest of tales. In his biographer's words-
" He is the poet of Puritanism, but also of something greater, that is to say, of a certain class of experiences incident not espe- cially to the theologian, artist, or philosopher, to our common, nature. He was enabled to become their poet because, although he was shaken to the centre by them, he could by Grace abound- ing detach himself from them and survey them. This is his greatest service to us. He takes us by the hand and whispers to, us, Is it thus and thus with thee ? and then he tells us he has gone through it all and by God's mercy has survived."
This directness of vision is joined to a curious profundity. He not only sees clearly, he sees deeply; but he looks, not in cynicism, but in pity and charity. The Pilgrim's Progress is
fall of little touches, as unexpected and as certain as Shake- speare's. Take such a figure as Mr. Fearing, who escaped from the Slough of Despond by accident "one sunshine morning." He cared nothing for the lions or the Hill Difficulty, but he was ill at ease in the House Beautiful. The Valley of the Shadow and the River were quieter than they had ever been in the memory of man, but Mr. Fearing was in awful straits. Yet he was very wakeful in the Enchanted Ground, he was desperately quarrelsome with the folk of Vanity Fair, and in the Valley of Humiliation he was as well, said Old Honest, "as ever I saw a man in my life, for he cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that valley and him." Take, too, the sketches of Mr. Worldly Wiseman; of Mr. Bye-Ends of Fair-Speech, whose great-grandfather was a waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and whose mother was a virtuous woman, my Lady Feigning's daughter; or Obstinacy; or such exquisite studies in ethical discrimination as Faithful and Hopeful ; or Old Honest, who. came from the Town of Stupidity which lieth four degrees beyond the City of Destruction ; or Mr. Haughty in The Holy War, who, like Hal o' the Wynd, considered not what cause he fought for so long as he bore himself well. Hardly a figure in his tales but sums up a temperament or a philosophy, as familiar to our generation as to his. Ignor- ance still cries loudly in the market-place, Pliable still sets out on great undertakings and returns home after the first mile, and if we have changed some of the wares in the Fair of Vanity, the market-laws are the same. There are still silver-mines about, with Denies standing by, "gentleman-like, to call to passengers to come and see." Greathe,art demolished Doubting Castle, but it has been built again, and its locks, as of old, "go damnable hard " ; and there are still Delectable Moun- tains, with blind men walking among the tombs below. If the ladies of the House Beautiful are harder to find, Mercy still goes about her work, and any day you may meet the deplorable young woman, "her name was Dull." And who does not know Mr. Fearing, the high-strung, diffident, courageous soul, who suffers greatly in his spiritual combats, but cares little for lions and giants and the townsmen of Vanity ? But if Bunyan's knowledge and charity are world- wide, his logic is inexorable. He will be faithful to truth, and surrender nothing to sentiment. He knew that the wicked do not come to sensational ends, but die in their beds, greatly respected : so in the Life and Death of Mr. Badnnan he makes that gentleman enjoy a quiet old age. His stern
Yet the whole tale is steeped in an atmosphere of romance and poetry, which the illustrations to the latest edition very beautifully reproduce. Mr. Byam Shaw has mixed together mediaeval and Jacobean conventions, so that now we have a Puritan maid, and now a Crusader, and now one of Chaucer's pilgrims ; but the result gives that effect of catholicity and enduring truth which belongs to the story. He has caught, too, the mysterious simplicity of the landscape,—russet mountain paths with little glimpses of a green country beyond. For Bunyan has a keen eye for Nature, and can describe it in haunting words,—witness the "meadow curiously beautified with lilies," or "the delicate plain called Ease," or the description of the Land of Beulah, or, above all, that wonderful account in the Second Part of the Talley of Humiliation, than which there is no nobler prose in the language. Much of the scenery is, no doubt, Biblical, but there is more than a hint of the Forest of Arden, and of that hill-country of Surrey through which still runs the "Pilgrim's way." As to Arden, is it permis- sible to guess, with Mr. Froude, that in his unregenerate days he may have seen As You Like It performed in some country booth ? Christian speaks of making religion a stalking-horse, a metaphor which belongs to the play, and in Valiant-for-Truth's song, "Who would true valour see ? " there is an echo of the catch sung by Amiens. Bunyan is so true a poet that, while his sense of truth is never allowed to give way before romance, yet when romance comes naturally in his tale he rises to its height. The man "of a very stout countenance" at the Interpreter's House is an unforgettable picture, as is the crossing of poor Much-Afraid, the daughter of Despondency, who "went through the river singing, but none could understand what she said." "My sword," said Valiant-for-Truth at his departure, "I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought his battles, who now will be rewarded." And when Mr. Standfast hears his sum- mons and goes down to the River in a great calm, the epic of human life sinks to a noble and adequate close. The secondary applications of allegory are forgotten ; we are moved as by some great deed witnessed by ourselves ; for, indeed, the drama we have watched is our common life seen by the transforming eyes of genius.
"SAM HUSSEY."* Channel."
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