but will wonder that a long apology for so valuable a publication should have been deemed necessary. This was however the case; and the author, having solidly, though rather verbosely, answered several objections, and adduced some obvious arguments in very unpoetical rhymes, concludes with these lines, which may serve as a favourable specimen of the whole:

'Would'st thou divert thyself from melancholy?
Would'st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?
Would'st thou read riddles and their explanation?
Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?
Dost thou love picking meat? Or would'st thou see
A man i' th' clouds, and hear him speak to thee?
Would'st thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep?
Or would'st thou in a moment laugh and weep?
Or would'st thou lose thyself, and catch no harm?
And find thyself again without a charm?
Would'st read thyself, and read thou know'st not what,
And yet know whether thou art blest or not,
By reading the same lines? O then come hither,
And lay my book, thy heart, and head together.'

The verses prefixed to the second part, in a kind of dialogue between the author and his book, are still less interesting; and serve to shew that he had a more favourable opinion of its comparative merit than posterity has formed; which is no singular case. Some verses are likewise found at the bottom of certain plates that accompanied several of the old editions, which they who omit the plates, or substitute others, know not where to insert. To shew all regard, however, to every thing that Mr. Bunyan wrote as a part of the work, they will be found in the notes on the incidents to which they refer.

THE LIFE

OF

JOHN BUNYAN.

THE celebrated author of the Pilgrim's Progress was born, A.D. 1628, at Elstow, a small village near Bedford. His father earned his bread by the low occupation of a tinker; but he bore a fair character, and took care that his son, whom he brought up to the same business, should be taught to read and write. We are told, indeed, that the son quickly forgot all he had learned through his extreme profligacy; yet it is probable that he retained so much as enabled him to recover the rest when his mind became better disposed; and that it was very useful to him in the subsequent part of his life.

The materials from which an account of this valuable man must be compiled are so scanty and imperfect, that nothing very satisfactory must be expected. He seems from his earliest youth to have been greatly addicted to gross vice as well as impiety: yet he was interrupted in his course by continual alarms and convictions, which were sometimes peculiarly overwhelming; but they had no other effect at the time than to extort from him the most absurd wishes that can be imagined. A copious narrative of these early conflicts and crimes is contained in a treatise published by himself, under the title of Grace abounding to the chief of Sinners.' During this part of his life he was twice preserved

from the most imminent danger of drowning: and, being a soldier in the parliament's army at the siege of Leicester, A.D. 1645, he was drawn out to stand sentinel; but one of his comrades, having by his own desire taken his place, was shot through the head on his post; and thus Bunyan was reserved by the all-disposing hand of God for better purposes. He seems, however, to have made progressive advances in wickedness, and to have become the ring-leader of youth in every kind of profaneness and excess.

His career of vice received a considerable check, in consequence of his marriage with the daughter of a person who had been very religious in his way, and remarkably bold in reproving vice, but who was then dead. His wife's discourse to him concerning her father's piety excited him to go regularly to church; and, as she brought him, for her whole portion, "The Practice of Piety,' and 'The plain Man's Path-way to Heaven,' he employed himself frequently in reading these books.

The events recorded of our author are so destitute of dates, and of regard to the order in which they happened, that no clear arrangement can now be made of them: but it is probable that this new attention to religion, though ineffectual to the reformation of his conduct, rendered him more susceptible of convictions; and his vigorous imagination, at that time altogether untutored by knowledge or discretion, laid him open to a variety of impressions, sleeping and waking, which he verily supposed to arise from words spoken to him, or objects presented before his bodily senses; and he never after was able to break the association of

ideas which was thus formed in his mind. Accordingly he says that one day, when he was engaged in diversion with his companions, 'A voice did sud'denly dart from heaven into his soul, which said, 'Wilt thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have 'thy sins and go to hell?' The consciousness of his wicked course of life, accompanied with the recollection of the truths he had read, suddenly meeting in his mind, thus produced a violent alarm, and made such an impression on his imagination that he seemed to have heard these words, and to have. seen Christ frowning and menacing him. But we must not suppose that there was any miracle wrought; nor could there be any occasion for a new revelation to suggest or enforce so scriptural a warning. This may serve as a specimen of those impressions which constitute a large part of his religious experience, but which it is not advisable to recapitulate.

He was next tempted to conclude that it was then too late to repent or seek salvation; and, as he ignorantly listened to the suggestion, he indulged his corrupt inclinations without restraint, imagining that this was the only way in which he could possibly have the least expectation of pleasure, during his whole existence.

While he was proceeding in this wretched course, a woman of very bad character reproved him with great severity for profane swearing; declaring, in the strongest expressions, that he exceeded in it all men she had ever heard. This made him greatly ashamed, when he reflected that he was too vile even for such a bad woman to endure: so that from that time he began to break off that odious custom.