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■^ 
 
 STUDI ES 
 
 IN THE 
 
 ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. B.GRIER, 
 
 TUTOR IN MODERN LANGUAGES, LAFAYETTE COLLEGE, EASTON, PA. 
 
 .-. '^S) 
 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 1S72. 
 
TK3 3^'' 
 
 .(^1 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 In the Ofifice of the Librarian of Concrress at Washington. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 FACE 
 
 Biographical 9 
 
 From Bunyan's Grace Abounding to the Chief of 
 
 Sinners 15 
 
 Tributes to Bunyan's Genius 55 
 
 From The Pilgrim's Progress 6-^ 
 
 Grammatical, Philological, and Rhetorical Anal- 
 ysis . 68-129 
 
 CHRisTfAN in Doubting Castle 130 
 
 Appendix A 141 
 
 V Syntax of Simple Sentences ..... 143 
 
 Syntax of Compound Sentences .... 144 
 
 Co-ordinate Clauses ..... 145 
 
 Subordinate Clauses ..... 146 
 
 Appendix B: 
 
 Grimm's Law. — Law of Convertibility in the Latin, 
 
 English, and German ..... 147 
 
 (3) 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The following pages contain the results of one term's 
 work in the class-room, on the English of Bunyan. 
 So much interest was manifested in these minute inves- 
 tigations into words and sentences that I have been led 
 to gather up such results of our study, however slight 
 and incomplete, as might attract the attention of teachers 
 who care for any methods of training young scholars to 
 habits of fine literary discrimination, and greater pains- 
 taking in their own composition. 
 
 The plan of study here adopted calls first for the 
 parsing of the sentence. Find the predicative combi 
 nation, which is the framework of the sentence. Then 
 fit in the other words where they belong, to the subject 
 or to the predicate. If it be a compound sentence, 
 take up the next clause, and define it as co-ordinate or 
 subordinate to the principal or other clause, and then 
 analyze as before. After the grammatical analysis, the 
 sentence should be reviewed for the sake of the ety- 
 mology of every word, and whatever philological prin- 
 ciples can be applied to it. Then the rhetorical analysis. 
 The force of a sentence may be tested by weighing any 
 important words in it with synonymous words, or put- 
 ting the thought in other language and then contrasting 
 the two expressions, discussing them, and bringing out 
 as many points as possible wherein one expression is 
 
 I* (v) 
 
yi PREFACE. 
 
 more appropriate to the thought and better than the 
 other. 
 
 A regular lesson in a good grammar should be 
 assigned in connection with the grammatical analysis, 
 and the grammatical principles, as fast as they are 
 learned, be applied to the text in parsing. The chap- 
 ter in Appendix A, which is adapted from Fowler's 
 English Grammar, might well be given out in successive 
 lessons till it is committed to memory. It contains 
 the principles of the syntax of simple and compound 
 sentences. 
 
 Let the student write paraphrases of any chapters, 
 and weekly exercises on any topics in connection with 
 Bunyan's life, or suggested by the class-room discus- 
 sions on his language ; and make ready for a more 
 comprehensive essay, it may be at the close of the term, 
 on the Life and Times of Bunyan. He should be in- 
 forming himself meanwhile about the times in which 
 Bunyan lived, if such a history of England is available; 
 about his birthplace, the books he had, his contempo- 
 raries, and whatever personal experiences and domestic 
 and social and political influences there were which 
 would be likely to affect his character. Read at least The 
 Pilgrim^ s Progress, of all Bunyan's works, not only 
 for the sake of the story, but to get into the spirit of 
 the writer ; and thus be prepared not merely to detail 
 the incidents of his life, but to make something of a 
 philosophical estimate of his character and life, to write 
 a critical and thoughtful essay on the man. 
 
 The biographical notes will offer the student material 
 for writing an essay on Bunyan. The chapter contains 
 a slight outline of Bunyan's career, a list of his literary 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 productions in chronological order, and then extracts 
 from his own account of his conversion, entitled 
 Grace Aboundi?ig to the Chief of Sinnei's. The first of 
 these extracts will fill up the outline notes on his early 
 life, in so far as they make us acquainted with his 
 humble parentage and schooling, his vices of profanity 
 and Sabbath-breaking, his reformation after marriage, 
 the working of his mind, and his progress in religious 
 life. Having his confessions, and his own study of his 
 experiences, we can get nearer the truth, and make a 
 better estimate of his character than if we had to take 
 the word of a strange biographer. 
 
 But when we read those touching confessions of 
 youthful depravity, we have to remember that the writer 
 of them was also the author of The Pilgrim' s Progress. 
 Here we are willingly bound in the weavings of a 
 powerful imagination, but in the autobiography we 
 must be aware of that spell, and read the second time 
 with discrimination, to judge whether Bunyan's pictures 
 of himself are not vividly drawn and colored out of his 
 great imagination. We know Bunyan too well to 
 follow him in such condemnation of himself. His 
 great charm as a writer is simplicity. But his heart 
 was as guileless as his pen. He formed his style not 
 from books, save the Bible, but out of his pure, warm 
 h^art, and life, and religious experience. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 John Bunyan was born in the year 1628, in the 
 village of Elstow, a mile distant from Bedford, 
 England. His father was a brazier or tinker, and 
 the son followed the same calling. 
 
 Bunyan lived in a stormy time of England's 
 political history. Three years before his birth 
 Charles I. became king. His tyrannical reign of 
 twenty-four years ended in civil war between the 
 king and the royal army on the one side, and the 
 Parliament on the other, supported by the Puritans 
 and law-abiding people of the kingdom. At first 
 the royal forces were successful ; but in the deci- 
 sive battle of Naseby, 14th of June, 1645, they 
 were routed, the king was captured, and was exe- 
 cuted as a tyrant on the 30th of January, 1649. 
 Bunyan had served in this war as a private soldier 
 in the Parliamentary army. At the age of nineteen 
 he was married. At twenty-five, he united with 
 the Baptists in Bedford, and became an itinerant 
 preacher. 
 
 These years of ministerial labor Avere spent under 
 the Protectorate of Cromwell. But when the Com- 
 A* (9) 
 
 \ 
 
lO 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 monwealth was overthrown, in 1660, the govern- 
 ment of the Restoration, under Charles IL; began 
 to persecute the dissenting sects for their adherence 
 to the pohtical doctrines of the Commonwealth. 
 
 Charles 11. was a dissolute monarch, and no less 
 tyrannical than Charles I. During his reign of 
 twenty-five years the Puritans were sorely perse- 
 cuted. 
 
 Bunyan had become a powerful preacher, and 
 attracted thousands to his audience. His elo- 
 quence and wide popularity among the masses 
 drew attention to him as an influential noncon- 
 formist, and on the 12th of November, 1660, he 
 was arrested on the warrant of a country magis- 
 trate. He was preaching at a country place in 
 Bedfordshire, when the services were rudely inter- 
 rupted by constables, and Bunyan was taken be- 
 fore the Justice, Wingate, who, as he said, ''had 
 resolved to break the neck of such meetings." 
 The Justice could not make him promise to desist 
 from preaching, and, as bail was refused him, he 
 was committed to prison, the Bedford jail. The 
 bill of indictment against him read: "That John 
 Bunyan, of the town of Bedford, laborer, hath devil- 
 ishly and perniciously abstained from coming to 
 church* to hear divine service, and is a common 
 upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventi- 
 cles, to the great disturbance and distraction of the 
 
 * The Established Church. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL, 1 1 
 
 good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to the 
 laws of our sovereign lord the king." 
 
 Efforts were made by his wife to effect his re- 
 lease. This was his second wife, to whom he had 
 been married only a year or two before his impris- 
 onment. She appeared more than once before the 
 great Sir Matthew Hale, whose sympathies were 
 awakened by the woman's appeals, but the other 
 judges were immovable. 
 
 Bunyan was in prison twelve years, engaged in 
 literary labors, and supporting his family by mak- 
 ing tagged laces. His personal friend and first 
 biographer, Mr. Doe, who saw him in prison, says, 
 " Nor did he spend his time in a supine and care- 
 less' manner, or eat the bread of idleness. For 
 there I have been witness, that his own hands have 
 ministered to his and to his family's necessities, 
 by making many hundred gross of long, tagged, 
 thread laces, to fill up the vacancies of his time, 
 which he had learned for that purpose, since he 
 had been in prison. There, also, I surveyed his 
 library, the least and yet the best that ever I saw, 
 consisting only of two books, — a Bible and the 
 Book of Martyrsr''^ He frequently enjoyed the 
 company of his wife and children, and toward the 
 end of his imprisonment he was allowed unusual 
 freedom, even to occasional preaching in the neigh- 
 borhood, and spending some of his nights at home. 
 
 * Bunyan had also a Concordance. He says, " My Bible and 
 my Concordance are my only library in my writings." 
 
1 2 BIO GRAPHICAL. 
 
 In the last year of his imprisonment, the pastor 
 of the Bedford congregation died, and Bunyan was 
 called to succeed him. He was liberated in Sep- 
 tember, 1672, and immediately resumed his minis- 
 terial labors in Bedford, which were continued 
 sixteen years, till his death. Once a year he would 
 visit London, when thousands of people crowded 
 to hear him. Among his admirers in London was 
 the celebrated Dr. Owen. Once he was asked by 
 Charles II. how so learned a man as he could " sit 
 and hear an illiterate tinker prate." To this he 
 replied, " May it please your Majesty, could I pos- 
 sess that tinker's abilities for preaching, I would 
 most gladly relinquish all my learning." 
 
 In the summer of 1688, Bunyan went to Reading, 
 in Berkshire, to reconcile a father and son. His 
 mission was successful ; but as he was returning on 
 horseback, a violent storm overtook him, and all 
 drenched with rain he stopped at the house of a 
 friend, a Mr. Straddock, on Snowhill, London. 
 Here he fell sick of a violent fever, and died, at the 
 age of sixty. 
 
 Bunyan was a voluminous writer. His first 
 literary production was entitled Some Gospel 
 Trutlis Opened according to the Scriptures. This 
 brought him into controversy with the Quakers. 
 Two years after, when he was thirty years of age, 
 he published a treatise, entitled A Few Sighs from 
 Hell, or the Groans of a Damned Soul More than 
 
BIO GRAPHICAL. I ^ 
 
 nine editions were sold during the author's life- 
 time. A copy of the first edition, which once be- 
 longed to Charles II., is in the Royal Library of the 
 British Museum. 
 
 But the great work by which Bunyan is known 
 all over the enlightened world is TJic Pilgrini's 
 Progress^ which was composed in Bedford jail, and 
 published in 1678, six years after his release.* It 
 has been translated into ail the European languages, 
 and, excepting only the Bible, it has gained a wider 
 circulation than anything else in English literature. 
 The eleventh edition was published in the year 
 of Bunyan's death, 1688. It was the uneducated 
 among whom this book at first was so popular. 
 After many years, cultivated people began to take 
 it up, and critics had to pronounce it one of the 
 greatest works in all literature. 
 
 Among other works composed in prison are his 
 treatises on The Holy City, CJuistian Behaviour, 
 Justification by Fait Ji, TJie Resurrectiojt of the Dead, 
 A Discourse Touching Prayer, Confession of Ids 
 Faith and Reason of his Practice, together with that 
 remarkable history of his conversion, entitled Grace 
 Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. 
 
 In 1675 appeared a discourse, Saved by Grace. 
 
 * His biographer, Philip, says that it was no doubt partly- 
 dreamt in" prison, but that it was probably not written till after his 
 release in 1672, " and then his other works amounted to twenty-two 
 in all. Thus it is unwise to speak of The Pilgrim as if it were not 
 the work of a practiced writer." 
 
 2 
 
J . BIOGRAPHICAL. 
 
 In 1680, The Life and Death of Mr. B adman was 
 published. This work is in the form of a dialogue. 
 In 1 68 1, a treatise entitled Come and Welcome to 
 Jesns Christ, of which four large editions were 
 issued in Bunyan's lifetime. 
 
 In 1682, in a small octavo volume, The Holy War, 
 made by Shaddai upon Diabolus, for the Regaining 
 of the Metropolis of the World, or the Losing and Tak- 
 ing again of the Toivn of Mansoid. This work 
 stands alongside of The Pilgrim's Progress. Ma- 
 caulay says that if the The Pilgrim's Progress did 
 not exist, this would be the best allegory that ever 
 was written. 
 
 In the same year appeared two works, enlarged 
 from pulpit discourses, one on The Greatness of the 
 Sold and the Unspeakablcness of the Loss thereof. 
 The other. The Barren Fig-Tree, or the Doom and 
 Doivnfall of the Fndtless Professor. 
 
 In 1684, another extended discourse was pub- 
 lished, entitled Seasonable Counsels, or Advice to 
 Sufferers. In the same year, A Holy Life the Beauty 
 of Christianity. In the same year also, the second 
 part of The Pilgrim's Progress was published. 
 
 In 1688 were published separately, The Jeru- 
 salem Sinner Saved, Solomon's Temple Spiritualized, 
 and A Discourse on the Water of Life. 
 
 Besides these, with some other published works, 
 Bunyan left behind him a number of discourses in 
 manuscript, which were published in 1692 by his 
 friend and biographer, Mr. Doe. 
 
FROAI BUNYAN S 
 
 GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF 
 SINNERS. 
 
 For my descent then, it was, as is well known 
 to many, of a low and inconsiderable generation ; 
 my father's house being of that rank that is 
 mean-est and most despised of all the families in 
 the land. 
 
 But yet, notwithstanding the meanness and in- 
 considerableness of my parents, it pleased God to 
 put it into their hearts to put me to school, to 
 learn me both to read and write ; the which I also 
 attained, according to the rate of other poor men's 
 children, though to my shame I confess, I did soon 
 lose that little I learnt, even almost utterly, and 
 that long before the Lord did work his gracious 
 work of conversion upon my soul. 
 
 As for my own natural life, for the time that I 
 was without God in the world, it was, indeed, ac- 
 cording to the course of this ivorld, and the spirit that 
 nozv worketh in the children of disobedience. It was 
 my delight to be taken captive by the devil at his 
 will, — being filled with all unrighteousness ; the 
 which did also so strongly work, and put forth 
 itself, both in my heart and life, and that from a 
 child, that I had but a few equals (especially con- 
 
 (IS) 
 
J 5 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 sldering my years, which were tender, being few), 
 both for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming 
 the holy name of God. 
 
 Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, 
 that they became as a second nature to me ; the 
 which, as I have also with soberness considered 
 since, did so offend the Lord, that even in my child- 
 hood he did scare and affrighten me with fearful 
 dreams, and did terrify me with fearful visions. 
 For often, after I had spent this and the other day 
 in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted, 
 while asleep, with the apprehensions of devils and 
 wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured 
 to draw me away with them, of which I could 
 never be rid. 
 
 Also I should at these years be greatly afflicted 
 and troubled with the thoughts of the fearful tor- 
 ments of hell-fire ; still fearing that it would be my 
 lot to be found at last among those devils and 
 hellish fiends, who are there bound down with the 
 chains and bonds of darkness, unto the judgment 
 of the great day. 
 
 These things^ I say, when I was but a child, but 
 nine or ten years old, did so distress my soul, that 
 then in the midst of my many sports and childish 
 vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often 
 much cast down, and afflicted in my mind there- 
 with; yet I could not let go my sins. Yea, I was 
 also then so overcome with despair of life and 
 heaven, that I should often wish, either that there 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN ly 
 
 had been no hell, or that I had been a devil,— sup- 
 posing they were only tormentors ; that if it must 
 needs be that I went thither, I might be rather a 
 tormentor, than be tormented myself. 
 
 A while after those terrible dreams did leave me, 
 which also I soon forgot; for my pleasures did 
 quickly cut off the remembrance of them, as if they 
 had never been : wherefore with more greediness, 
 according to the strength of nature, I did still let 
 loose the reins of my lust, and delighted in all 
 transgressions against the law of God; so that 
 until I came to the state of marriage, I was the 
 very ringleader of all the youth that kept me com- 
 pany, in all manner of vice and ungodliness. . 
 
 In these days the thoughts of religion were very 
 grievous to me ; I could neither endure it myself, 
 nor that any other should ; so that when I have 
 seen some read in those books that concerned 
 Christian piety, it would be as it were a prison to 
 me. Then I said unto God, Depait from me, for 
 I desire not the knowledge of thy ivays. I was now 
 void of all good consideration, heaven and hell 
 were both out of sight and mind; and as for saving 
 and damning, they were least in my thoughts. 
 Lord, thou knozuest my life, and my ways were not 
 Jddfroni thee. 
 
 But this I well remember, that though I could 
 myself sin with the greatest delight and ease, and 
 also take pleasure in the vileness of my compan- 
 ions; yet, even then, if I had at any time seen 
 
1 3 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 wicked things, by those who professed goodness, 
 it would make my spirit tremble. As once above 
 all the rest, when I was in the height of vanity, yet 
 hearing one to swear, that was reckoned for a re- 
 ligious man, it had so great a stroke upon my 
 spirit that it made my heart ache. 
 
 But God did not utterly leave me, but followed 
 me still, not with convictions, but with judgments; 
 yet such as were mixed with mercy. For once I 
 fell into a creek of the sea, and hardly escaped 
 drowning. Another time I fell out of a boat into 
 Bedford River, but mercy yet preserved me alive. 
 Besides, another time, being in the field with one 
 of my companions, it chanced that an adder passed 
 over the highway, so I, having a stick in my hand, 
 struck her over the back ; and having stunned her, 
 I forced open her mouth with my stick, and plucked 
 her sting out with my fingers ; by which act, had 
 not God been merciful unto me, I might by my 
 desperateness, have brought myself to my end. 
 
 This also I have taken notice of, with thanks- 
 giving. When I was a soldier, I, with others, were 
 drawn out to go to such a place to besiege it ; but 
 when I was just ready to go, one of the company 
 desired to go in my room : to which, when I had 
 consented, he took my place ; and coming to the 
 siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot in the head 
 with a musket-bullet, and died. 
 
 Here, as I said, were judgments and mercy, but 
 neither of them did awaken my soul to righteous- 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 
 
 19 
 
 ness ; wherefore I sinned still, and grew more and 
 more rebellious against God, and careless of my 
 own salvation. 
 
 Presently after this, I changed my condition into 
 a married state, and my mercy was to light upon 
 a wife whose father was counted godly; this woman 
 and I, though we came together as poor as poor 
 might be (not having so much household-stuff as a 
 dish or a spoon betwixt us both), yet this she had 
 for her part, "The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven; 
 the Practice of Piety ;" which her father had left 
 her when he died. In these two books I should 
 sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some 
 things that were somewhat pleasing to me; but all 
 this while I met with no conviction. She also 
 would be often telling me of what a godly man her 
 father was, and how he would reprove and correct 
 vice, both in his house, and among his neighbors, 
 what a strict and holy life he led in his days, both 
 in word and deed. 
 
 Wherefore these books, with the relation, though 
 they did not reach my heart, to awaken it about 
 my sad and sinful state, yet they did beget within 
 me some desires to reform my vicious life, and fall 
 in very eagerly with the religion of the times ; to 
 wit, to go to church twice a day, aitd that, too, with 
 the foremost ; and there should very devoutly both 
 say and sing, as others did, yet retaining my 
 wicked life ; but withal, I was so overrun with the 
 spirit of superstition, that I adored, and that with 
 
20 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 great devotion, even all things (both the high place, 
 priest, clerk, vestment service, and what else) be- 
 longing to the church ; counting all things holy 
 that were therein contained, and especially, the 
 priest and clerk most happy, and without doubt 
 greatly blessed, because they were the servants, as 
 I then thought, of God, and were principal in the 
 holy temple to do his work therein. 
 
 This conceit grew so strong in a little time upon 
 my spirit, that had I but seen a priest (though never 
 so sordid and debauched in his life), I should find my 
 spirit fall under him, reverence him, and knit unto 
 him ; yea, I thought, for the love I did bear unto 
 them (supposing they were the ministers of God) I 
 could have laid down at their feet and have been 
 trampled on by them ; their name, their garb, and 
 work did so intoxicate and bewitch me. . . . 
 
 But one day, amongst all the sermons our par- 
 son made, his subject was to treat of the Sabbath- 
 day, and of the evil of breaking that, either with 
 labor, sports, or otherwise (now I was, notwith- 
 standing my religion, one that took much delight 
 in all manner of vice, and especially that was the 
 day that I did solace myself therewith) : wherefore 
 I fell \w my conscience under this sermon, think- 
 ing and believing that he made that sermon on 
 purpose to show me my evil doing. And at that 
 time I felt what guilt was, though never before, 
 that I can remember; but then I was, for the 
 present, greatly loaded therewith, and so went 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 2 1 
 
 home when the sermon was ended, with a great 
 burthen upon my spirit. 
 
 This, for an instant, did benumb the sinews of 
 my best deh'ghts, and did embitter my former 
 pleasures to me ; but hold, it lasted not ; for before 
 I had dined, the trouble began to go off my mind, 
 and my heart returned to its old course. But, oh, 
 how glad was I, that this trouble was gone from 
 me, and that the fire was put out, that I might sin 
 again without controul ! Wherefore, when I had 
 satisfied nature with my food, I shook the sermon 
 out of my mind, and to my old custom of sports 
 and gaming I returned with great delight. 
 
 But the same day, as I was in the midst of a 
 game of Cat, and having struck it one blow from 
 the hole, just as I was about to strike it the second 
 time, a voice did suddenly dart from heaven into 
 my soul, which said, "Wilt thou leave thy sins and 
 go to heaven, or have thy sins and go to hell ?" 
 At this I was put to an exceeding amaze ; where- 
 fore, leaving my cat upon the ground, I looked up 
 to heaven, and was, as if I had, with the eyes of my 
 understanding, seen the Lord Jesus looking down 
 upon me, as being very hotly displeased with me, 
 and as if he did severely threaten me with some 
 grievous punishment for these and other ungodly 
 practices. 
 
 I had no sooner thus conceived in my mind but 
 suddenly this conclusion was fastened on my spirit 
 (for the former hint did set my sins again before 
 
22 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 my face), that I had been a great and grievous 
 sinner, and that it was now too late for me to 
 look after heaven; for Christ would not forgive 
 me, nor pardon my transgressions. Then I fell to 
 musing on this also ; and while I was thinking of 
 it, and fearing lest it should be so, I felt my 
 heart sink in despair, concluding it was too late; 
 and therefore I resolved in my mind to go on 
 in sin. For, thought I, if the case be thus, my 
 state is surely miserable ; miserable if I leave my 
 sins, and but miserable if I follow them. I can 
 but be damned, and if I must be so, I had as good 
 be damned for many sins as be damned for few. 
 
 Thus 1 stood in the midst of my play, before 
 all that then were present ; but yet I told them 
 nothing ; but I say, having made this conclusion, 
 I returned desperately to my sport again ; and I 
 well remember, that presently this kind of despair 
 did so possess my soul that I was persuaded I 
 could never attain to other comfort than what I 
 should get in sin ; for heaven was gone already, so 
 that on that I must not think. Wherefore I found 
 within me great desire to have my fill of sin, still 
 studying what sin was yet to be committed, that I 
 might taste the sweetness of it; and I made as much 
 haste as I could to fill my belly with its delicacies, 
 lest I should die before I had my desires ; for that 
 I feared greatly. In these things, I protest before 
 God I lie not, neither do I frame this sort of speech ; 
 these were really, strongly, and with all my heart my 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN 23 
 
 desires. The good Lord, whose mercy is unsearch- 
 able, forgive my transgressions. . . . 
 
 Now therefore I went on in sin with great greedi- 
 ness of mind, still grudging that I could not be 
 satisfied with it as I would. This did continue 
 with me about a month, or more ; but one day, as 
 I was standing at a neighbor's shop-window, and 
 there cursing and swearing, and playing the mad- 
 man, after my wonted manner, there sat within the 
 woman of the house, and heard me ; who, though she 
 was a very loose and ungodly wretch, yet protested 
 that I swore and cursed at the most ungodly rate, 
 that she was made to tremble to hear me ; and told 
 me further, that I was the ungodliest fellow for 
 swearing that she ever heard in all her life ; and that 
 I by thus doing, was able to spoil all the youth in 
 the whole town, if they came but in my company. 
 
 At this reproof I was silenced, and put to secret 
 shame ; and that too, as I thought, before the God 
 of heaven ; wherefore, while I stood there, and 
 hanging down my head, I wished with all my heart 
 that I might be a little child again, that my father 
 might teach me to speak without this wicked way 
 of swearing ; for, thought I, I am so accustomed 
 to.it, that it is in vain for me to think of a reforma- 
 tion, for I thought that could never be. 
 
 But how it came to pass I know not ; I did from 
 this time forward, so leave my swearing, that it 
 was a great wonder to myself to observe it ; and 
 whereas, before I knew not how to speak unless I 
 
24 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 put an oath before and another one behind, to 
 make my words have authority ; now I could, with- 
 out it, speak better, and with more pleasantness 
 than ever I could before. All this while I knew 
 not Jesus Christ, neither did I leave my sports and 
 plays. 
 
 But quickly after this, I fell into company with 
 one poor man that made profession of religion ; 
 who, as I then thought, did talk pleasantly of the 
 Scriptures, and of the matter of religion; wherefore, 
 falling into some love and liking to what he said, 
 I betook me to my Bible, and began to take great 
 pleasure in reading, but especially with the his- 
 torical part thereof; for as for St. Paul's Epistles, 
 and suchlike Scriptures, I could not away with 
 them, being as yet ignorant, either of the corrup- 
 tions of my nature, or of the want and worth of 
 Jesus Christ to save us. 
 
 Wherefore I fell to some outward reformation 
 both in my words and life, and did set the com- 
 mandments before me for my way to heaven ; 
 which commandments I also did strive to keep, 
 and, as I thought, did keep them pretty well some- 
 times, and then I should have comfort ; yet now 
 and then should break one, and so afflict my con- 
 science; but then I should repent, and say, I 
 was sorry for it, and promised God to do better 
 next time, and there get help again; for then I 
 thought I pleased God as well as any man in Eng- 
 land. . . . But, I say, my neighbours were amazed at 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 25 
 
 this my great conversion from prodigious profane- 
 ness to something hke a moral hfe ; and truly, so 
 they well might ; for this my conversion was as 
 great as for Tom of Bedlam to become a sober 
 man. Now therefore they began to praise, to com- 
 mend, and to speak well of m.e, both to my face, 
 and behind my back. Now I was, as they said, 
 become godly ; now I was become a right honest 
 man. But oh ! when I understood those were 
 their words and opinions of me, it pleased me 
 mighty well. For though as yet I was nothing but 
 a poor painted hypocrite, yet I loved to be talked 
 of as one that was truly godly. I was proud of 
 my godliness, and indeed I did all I did, either to 
 be seen of, or to be well spoken of by men ; and 
 thus I continued for about a twelvemonth, or more. 
 
 Now you must know, that before this I had 
 taken much delight in ringing the bell, but my 
 conscience beginning to be tender, I thought such 
 a practice was but vain, and therefore forced my- 
 self to leave it ; yet my mind hankered ; wherefore, 
 I would now go to the steeple-house and look on, 
 though I durst not ring; but I thought this did 
 not become religion neither ; yet I forced myself, 
 and would look on still. . . . 
 
 Another thing was my dancing. I was full a 
 year before I could quite leave that; but all this 
 while, when I thought I kept this or that command- 
 ment, or did, by word or deed, anything that I 
 thought was good, I had great peace in my con- 
 B* 3 
 
26 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 science ; and should think with myself God cannot 
 but be now pleased with me ; yea, to relate it in 
 mine own way, I thought no man in England could 
 please God better than I. . . . 
 
 But upon a day, the good providence of God 
 called me to Bedford, to work on my calling;* 
 and in one of the streets of that town, I came where 
 there were three or four poor women sitting at a 
 door, in the sun, talking about the things of God; 
 and being now willing to hear their discourse, I 
 drew near to hear what they said, for I was now a 
 brisk talker of myself, in the matter of religion ; 
 but I may say, / heai'd, but tniderstood not; for they 
 were far above, out of my reach. 
 
 Their talk was about a new birth, the work of 
 God in their hearts, as also how they were con- 
 vinced of their miserable state by nature. They 
 talked how God had visited their souls with his love 
 in the Lord Jesus, and with what words and promises 
 they had been refreshed, comforted, and supported 
 against the temptations of the devil ; moreover, 
 they reasoned of the suggestions and temptations 
 of Satan in particular ; and told to each other by 
 what means they had been afflicted, and how they 
 were borne up under his assaults. They also dis- 
 coursed of their own wretchedness of heart, and of 
 their unbelief; and did contemn, slight, and abhoi 
 
 * Bunyan followed his father's trade, which was that of abrazic 
 or tinker. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 27 
 
 their own righteousness, as filthy, and insufficient 
 to do them any good. 
 
 And methought they spake as if joy did make 
 them speak ; they spake with such pleasantness of 
 Scripture language, and with such appearance of 
 grace in all they said, that they were to me as if 
 they had found a new world ; as if they were people 
 that divelt alone, and were not to be reckoned among 
 their neighbors. 
 
 At this I felt my own heart began to shake, and 
 mistrust my condition to be naught ; for I saw that 
 in all my thoughts about religion and salvation, 
 the new birth did never enter into my mind ; 
 neither knew I the comfort of the word and promise, 
 nor the deceitfulness and treachery of my own 
 wicked heart. As for secret thoughts, I took no 
 notice of them ; neither did I understand what 
 Satan's temptations were, nor how they were to be 
 withstood and resisted. 
 
 Thus, therefore, when I had heard and consid- 
 ered what they said, I left them, and went about 
 my employment again ; but their talk and discourse 
 went with me; also my heart would tarry with 
 them, for I was greatly affected with their words, 
 both because by them I was convinced that I 
 wanted the true tokens of a truly godly man, and 
 also because by them I was convinced of the happy 
 and blessed condition of him that was such an one. 
 
 Therefore I would often make it my business to 
 be going again and again into the company of 
 
23 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 these poor people ; for I could not stay away ; and 
 the more I went among them the more I did ques- 
 tion my condition : and as I still do remember, 
 presently I found two things within me, at which 
 I did sometimes marvel (especially considering what 
 a blind, ignorant, sordid, and ungodly wretch but 
 just before I was). The one was a very great 
 softness and tenderness of heart, which caused me 
 to fall under the conviction of what by Scripture 
 they asserted ; and the other, was a great bending 
 in my mind, to a continually meditating on it, and 
 on all other good things which at any time I heard 
 or read of . . . 
 
 One thing I may not omit : there was a young 
 man in our town, to whom my heart before was 
 knit more than to any other, but he being a most 
 wicked creature for cursing, and swearing, and 
 whoring, I now shook him off, and forsook his 
 company ; but about a quarter of a year after I had 
 left him, I met him in a certain lane, and asked 
 him how he did ; he, after his old swearing and 
 mad way answered, he was well. ''But, Harry," 
 said I, '* Why do you curse and swear thus ? 
 What will become of you if you die in this con- 
 dition ?" He answered me in a great chafe, "What 
 would the devil do for company if it were not for 
 such as I am?" 
 
 About this time I met with some Ranters' books, 
 that were put forth by some of our countrymen, 
 which books were also highly in esteem by several 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 29 
 
 old professors ; some of these I read but was not 
 able to make a judgment about them ; wherefore 
 as I read in them, and thought upon them, seeing 
 myself unable to judge, I would betake myself to 
 hearty prayer in this manner: "O Lord, I am a 
 fool, and not able to know the truth from error : 
 Lord, leave me not to my own blindness, either to 
 approve of, or condemn this doctrine ; if it be of 
 God, let me not despise it ; if it be of the devil, let 
 me not embrace it. Lord, I lay my soul in this 
 matter only at thy foot, let me not be deceived, I 
 humbly beseech thee." I had one religious inti- 
 mate companion all this while, and that was the 
 poor man I spoke of before ; but about this time, 
 he also turned a devilish Ranter, and gave himself 
 up to all manner of filthiness, especially unclean- 
 ness. He would also deny that there was a God, 
 angel, or spirit ; and would laugh at all exhorta- 
 tions to sobriety : when I labored to rebuke his 
 wickedness, he would laugh the more, and pretend 
 that he had gone through all . religions, and could 
 never hit upon the right till now. He told me also, 
 that in a little time I should see all professors turn 
 to the ways of the Ranters. Wherefore abominat- 
 ing these cursed principles, I left his company 
 forthwith, and became to him as great a stranger, 
 as I had been before a familiar. 
 
 Neither was this man only a temptation to me, 
 but my calling being in the country, I happened 
 to come into several people's company, who though 
 
 3* 
 
qo CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 strict in religion formerly, yet were also drawn 
 away by these Ranters. These would also talk 
 with me of their ways, and condemn me as legal 
 and dark : pretending that they only had attained 
 to perfection, that could do what they would and 
 not sin. Oh! these temptations were suita'ble to 
 my flesh, I being but a young man, and my nature 
 in its prime ; but God, who had, as I hoped, de- 
 signed me for better things, kept me in the fear of 
 his name, and did not suffer rhe to accept such 
 cursed principles. And blessed be God, who put 
 it into my heart to cry to him to be kept and 
 directed, still distrusting mine own wisdom ; for I 
 have since seen even the effects of that prayer, in 
 his preserving me, not only from Ranting errors, 
 but from those also that have sprung up since. 
 . — The Bible was precious to me in those days. 
 
 About this time, the state and happiness of those 
 poor people at Bedford was thus, in a kind of a 
 vision, presented to me. I saw as if they were on 
 the sunny side of some high mountain, there re- 
 freshing themselves with the pleasant beams of the 
 sun, while I was shivering and shrinking in the 
 cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark clouds : 
 methought also, betwixt me and them, I saw a wall 
 that did compass about this mountain : now through 
 this wall, my soul did greatly desire to pass ; con- 
 cluding, that if I could, I would even go into the 
 very midst of them, and there also comfort myself 
 with the heat of their sun. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 .^T 
 
 About this wall I bethought myself to go again 
 and again, still praying as I went, to see if I could 
 find some way or passage, by which I might enter 
 therein ; but none could I find for some time ; at 
 the last, I saw, as it were, a narrow gap, like a 
 little doorway in the wall, through which I at- 
 tempted to pass : now the passage being very 
 straight and narrow, I made many offers to get in, 
 but all in vain, even until I was well nigh quite 
 beat out, by striving to get in; at last, with great 
 striving, methought I at first did get in my head, 
 and after that, by a sideling striving, my shoulders, 
 and my whole body : then I was exceeding glad, 
 went and sat down in the midst of them, and so 
 was comforted with the light and heat of their sun. 
 
 Now this mountain, and wall, &c., was thus 
 made out to me: the mountain signified the church 
 of the living God ; the sun that shone thereon, the 
 comfortable shining of his merciful face on them 
 that were therein ; the wall I thought was the 
 world, that did make separation between the Chris- 
 tians and the world ; and the gap which was in the 
 wall, I thought, was Jesus Christ, who is the way 
 to God the Father. (John, xiv. 6; Matt. vii. 14.) 
 But forasmuch as the passage was wonderfully 
 narrow, even so narrow, that I could not, but with 
 great" difficulty, enter in thereat, it showed me, that 
 none could enter into life, but those that were in 
 downright earnest, and unless also they left that 
 wicked world behind them ; for here was only 
 
32 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 room for body and soul, but not for body and soul, 
 and sin. 
 
 This resemblance abode upon my spirit many 
 days : all which time I saw myself in a forlorn and 
 sad condition, but yet was provoked to a vehement 
 hunger and desire to be one of that number that 
 did sit in the sunshine : now also would I pray 
 wherever I was ; whether at home or abroad ; in 
 house or field ; and would also often, with lifting 
 up of heart sing that of the fifty-first Psalm, Lord 
 consider my distress ; for as yet I knew not where I 
 was. . . . 
 
 Thus therefore, for several days, I was greatly 
 assaulted and perplexed, and was often, when I 
 have been walking, ready to sink where I went, 
 with faintness in my mind ; but one day, after I 
 had been so many weeks oppressed and cast down 
 therewith, as I was now quite giving up the ghost 
 of all my hopes of ever attaining life, that sentence 
 fell with weight upon my spirit :* Look at the genera- 
 tions of old, and see ; did ever any tr7ist in God, and 
 were confonnded? 
 
 At which I was greatly enlightened, and en- 
 couraged in my soul ; for thus, at that very instant, 
 it was expounded to me : "begin at the beginning 
 of Genesis, and read to the end of the Revelations, 
 and see if you can find, that there was ever any 
 that trusted in the Lord and was confounded." So 
 coming home, I presently went to my Bible, to see 
 if I could find that saying, not doubting but to 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 33 
 
 find it presently ; for it was so fresh, and with such 
 strength and comfort on my spirit, that it was as 
 if it talked with me. 
 
 Well, I looked, but I found it not ; only it abode 
 upon me : then did I ask first this good man, and 
 then another, if they knew where it was, but they 
 knew no such place. At this I wondered, that such 
 a sentence should so suddenly, and with such com- 
 fort and strength, seize, and abide upon my heart; 
 and yet that none could find it ; for I doubted not 
 but that it was in the holy Scriptures. 
 
 Thus I continued above a year, and could not 
 find the place; but at last, casting my eye upon the 
 Apocrypha books, I found it in Ecclesiasticus, 
 (Eccles. ii. i6.) This, at the first, did somewhat 
 daunt me ; but because by this time I had got 
 more experience of the love and kindness of God, 
 it troubled me the less, especially when I consid- 
 ered, that though it was not in those texts that we 
 call holy and canonical ; yet, forasmuch as this 
 sentence was the sum and substance of many of the 
 promises, it was my duty to take the comfort of it; 
 and I bless God for that word, for it was of good to 
 me ; that word doth still oft times shine before my 
 face. . . . 
 
 I cannot now express with what longings and 
 breathings in my soul, I cried to Christ to call me. 
 Thus I continued for a time, all on a flame to be 
 converted to Jesus Christ ; and did also see at that 
 day, such glory in a converted state, that I could 
 
24 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 not be contented without a share therein. Gold ! 
 could it have been gotten for gold, what would I 
 have given for it ! Had I had a whole world, it 
 had all gone ten thousand times over for this, that 
 my soul might have been in a converted state. . . 
 
 But all this while, as to the act of sinning, I was 
 never more tender than now : I durst not take a 
 pin or stick, though but so big as a straw ; for my 
 conscience now was sore and would smart at every 
 touch. I could not now tell how to speak my 
 words, for fear I should misplace them. Oh, how 
 cautiously did I then go in all I did or said ! I 
 found myself in a miry bog, that shook if I did but 
 stir, and was, as there left both of God and Christ, 
 and the Spirit, and all good things. . . . 
 
 The tempter would also much assault me with 
 this. How can you tell but that the Turks had 
 as good scriptures to prove their Mahomet the 
 Saviour as we have to prove our Jesus ? And, 
 could I think, that so many ten thousands in so 
 many countries and kingdoms, should be without 
 the knowledge of the right way to heaven (if there 
 were indeed a heaven)^ and that we only, who live 
 in a corner of the earth, should alone be blessed 
 therewith ? Every one doth think his own religion 
 Tightest, both Jews, and Moors, and Pagans ; and 
 how if all our faith, and Christ, and Scriptures, 
 should be but a think so too ? 
 
 Sometimes I have endeavoured to argue against 
 these suggestions, and to set some of the sentences 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 35 
 
 of blessed Paul against them; but alas! I quickly- 
 felt, when I thus did, such arguings as these would 
 return again upon me, "Though we made so great 
 a matter of Paul and of his words, yet how could I 
 tell, that in very deed, he being a subtle and cun- 
 ning man, might give himself up to deceive with 
 strong delusions ; and also take the pains and 
 travel, to undo and destroy his fellows." 
 
 These suggestions (with many other which at 
 this time I may not nor dare not utter, neither by 
 word or pen) did make such a seizure upon my 
 spirit, and did so overweigh my heart, both with 
 their number, continuance, and fiery force, that I 
 felt as if there were nothing else but these from 
 morning to night within me ; and as though in- 
 deed there could be room for nothing else : and 
 also concluded, that God had, in very wrath to my 
 soul, given me up to them, to be carried away with 
 them, as with a mighty whirlwind. . . . 
 
 Now I thought, surely I am possessed of the 
 devil ; at other times, again I thought I should be 
 bereft of my wits ; for instead of lauding and mag- 
 nifying God the Lord, with others, if I have heard 
 him spoken of, presently some most horrible blas- 
 phemous thought or other would bolt out of my 
 heart against him ; so that whether I did think 
 that God was, or again did think there was no such 
 thing, no love, nor peace, nor gracious disposition 
 could I feel within me. 
 
 These things did sink me into very deep despair ; 
 
36 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 for I concluded that such things could not possibly 
 be found amongst them that loved God. I often, 
 when these temptations had been with force upon 
 me, did compare myself to the case of such a child, 
 whom some gipsy hath by force took up in her 
 arms, and is carrying from friend and country ; 
 kick sometimes I did, and also shriek and cry ; but 
 yet I was bound in the wings of temptation, and 
 the wind would carry me away. I thought also of 
 Saul, and of the evil spirit that did possess him ; 
 and did greatly fear that my condition was the 
 same with that of his. 
 
 In those days, when I have heard others talk of 
 what was the sin against the Holy Ghost, then 
 would the tempter so provoke me to desire to sin 
 that sin, that I was as if I could not, must not, 
 neither should be quiet until I had committed it; 
 now no sin would serve but that: if it were to be 
 committed by speaking of such a word, then I have 
 been as if my mouth would have spoken that word, 
 whether I would or no ; and in so strong a measure 
 was this temptation upon me, that often I have 
 been ready to clap my hands under my chin, to 
 hold my mouth from opening; and to that end 
 also I have had thoughts at other times, to leap 
 with my head downward, into some muck hole or 
 other, to keep my mouth from speaking. . . . 
 
 At this time also I sat under the ministry of 
 holy Mr. Gifford, whose doctrine, by God's grace, 
 was much for my stability. This man made it 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN 37 
 
 much his business to deliver the people of God 
 from all those hard and unsound tests, that by- 
 nature we are prone to. He would bid us take 
 special heed that we took not up any truth upon 
 trust ; as from this, or that, or any other man or 
 men ; but cry mightily to God, that he would con- 
 vince us of the reality thereof, and set us down 
 therein by his own Spirit in the holy word ; for, said 
 he, if you do otherwise, when temptation comes, if 
 strongly upon you, you not having received them 
 wdth evidence from heaven, will find you want that 
 help and strength now to resist, that once you 
 thought you had. ... 
 
 I did greatly long to see some ancient godly 
 man's experience, who had writ some hundreds of 
 years before I was born ; for those who had writ 
 in our days, I thought (but I desire them now to 
 pardon me) that they had writ only that which 
 others felt ; or else had, through the strength of 
 their wits and parts, studied to answer such objec- 
 tions as they perceived others were perplexed with, 
 without going down themselves into the deep. 
 Well, after many such longings in my mind, the 
 God, in whose hands are all our days and ways, 
 did cast into my hand, one day, a book of Martin 
 Luther's; it was his comment on the Galatians; 
 it also was so old, that it was ready to fall from 
 piece to piece if I did but turn it over. Now I was 
 pleased much that such an old book had fallen into 
 my hands, the which when I had but a little way 
 
 4 
 
38 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 perused, I found my condition in his experience, 
 so largely and profoundly handled, as if his book 
 had been written out of my heart. This made me 
 marvel : for thus thought I, this man could not 
 know anything of the state of Christians now, but 
 must needs write and speak the experience of 
 former days. 
 
 Besides, he doth most gravely also in that book, 
 debate of the rise of these temptations, namely, 
 blasphemy, desperation, and the like ; shewing 
 that the law of Moses, as well as the devil, death, 
 and hell, hath a very great hand therein ; the which // 
 at first, was very strange to me, but considering 
 and watching, I found it so indeed. But of par- 
 ticulars here I intend nothing ; only this methinks 
 I must let fall before all men, I do prefer this book 
 of Martin Luther upon the Galatians (excepting the 
 holy Bible) before all the books that ever I have 
 seen, as most fit for a wounded conscience. 
 
 And now I found, as I thought, that I loved 
 Christ dearly : oh ! methought my soul cleaved 
 unto him, my affections cleaved unto him, I felt 
 my love to him as hot as fire, and now, as Job said, 
 I thought I should die in my nest; but I did quickly 
 find, that my great love was but little ; and that 
 I who had, as I thought, such burning love to 
 Jesus Christ, could let him go again for a very 
 trifle : God can tell how to abase us, and can hide 
 pride from man. Quickly after this my love was 
 tried to purpose. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 39 
 
 For after the Lord had, in this manner, thus 
 graciously dehvered me from this great and sore 
 temptation, and had set me down so sweetly in the 
 faith of his holy gospel, and had given me such 
 strong consolation and blessed evidence from 
 heaven, touching my interest in his love through 
 Christ ; the tempter came upon me again, and that 
 with a more grievous and dreadful temptation than 
 before. 
 
 And that was, "to sell and part with this most 
 blessed Christ, to exchange him for the things of 
 this life, for anything." The temptation lay upon 
 me for the space of a year, and did follow me so 
 continually, that I was not rid of it one day in a 
 month : no, not sometimes one hour in many days 
 together, unless when I was asleep. . 
 
 But it was neither my dislike of the thought, nor 
 yet any desire and endeavour to resist it, that in the 
 least did shake or abate the continuation or force 
 and strength thereof; for it did always, in almost 
 whatever I thought, intermix itself therewith, in 
 such sort, that I could neither eat my food, stoop 
 for a pin, chop a stick, or cast mine eye to look on 
 this or that, but still the temptation would come, 
 "sell Christ for this, or sell Christ for that; sell 
 him, sell him." . . . 
 
 This temptation did put me in such scares, lest 
 I should at some time, I say, consent thereto, and 
 be overcome therewith, that by the very force of 
 my mind, in labouring to gainsay and resist this 
 
40 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 wickedness, my very body would be put into action 
 or motion, by way of pushing or thrusting with my 
 hands or elbows ; still answering, as fast as the de- 
 stroyer said sell him : " I will not, I will not, I will 
 not; no, not for thousands, thousands, thousands 
 of worlds ;" thus reckoning, lest I should, in the 
 midst of these assaults, set too low a value on him; 
 even until I scarce well knew where I was, or how 
 to be composed again. ... 
 
 About this time I did light on a dreadful story 
 of that miserable mortal, Francis Spira ; a book 
 that was to my troubled spirit, as salt when rubbed 
 into a fresh wound ; every sentence in that book, 
 every groan of that man, with all the rest of his 
 actions in his dolours, as his tears, his prayers, his 
 gnashing of teeth, his wringing of hands, his twist- 
 ing, and languishing, and pining away under that 
 mighty hand of God that was upon him, were as 
 knives and daggers in my soul ; especially that 
 sentence of his was frightful to me, " Man knows 
 the beginning of sin, but who bounds the issues 
 thereof?" ... 
 
 Once as I was walking to and fro in a good 
 man's shop, bemoaning of myself in a sad and 
 doleful state, afflicting myself with self-abhorrence 
 for this wicked and ungodly thought ; lamenting 
 also this hard hap of mine, for that I should com- 
 mit so great a sin, greatly fearing that I should not 
 be pardoned ; praying also in my heart, that if this 
 sin of mine did differ from that against the Holy 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 41 
 
 Ghost, the Lord would shew it me. And being 
 now ready to sink with fear, suddenly there was, 
 as if there had rushed in at the window, the noise 
 of wind upon me, but very pleasant, and as if I 
 heard a voice speaking, ''Didst thou ever refuse to 
 be justified by the blood of Christ?" And withal, 
 my whole life of profession past, was in a moment 
 opened to me, wherein I was made to see, that de- 
 signedly I had not ; so my heart answered groan- 
 ingly "No." Then fell with power, that word of 
 God upon me. Sec that ye refuse not him that speak- 
 eth. This made a strange seizure upon my spirit; 
 it brought light with it, and commanded a silence 
 in my heart, of all those tumultuous thoughts, that 
 did before use like masterless hell-hounds, to roar 
 and bellow, and make an hideous noise within me. 
 It shewed me also that Jesus Christ had yet a word 
 of grace and mercy for me, that he had not, as I 
 had feared, quite forsaken and cast off my soul ; 
 yea, this was a kind of check for my proneness to 
 desperation ; a kind of threatening of me, if I did 
 not, notwithstanding my sins, and the heinousness 
 of them, venture my salvation upon the Son of 
 God. . . . 
 
 About this time I took an opportunity to break 
 my mind to an ancient Christian, and told him all 
 my case; I told him also, that I was afraid I had 
 sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost; and he told 
 me, he thought so too. Here, therefore, I had but 
 cold comfort ; but talking a little more with him, 
 
 4* 
 
42 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 I found him, though a good man, a stranger to 
 much combat with the devil. Wherefore I went to 
 God again, as well as I could, for mercy still. . . 
 
 Thus was I always sinking, whatever I did think 
 or do. So one day I walked to a neighboring 
 town, and sat down upon a settle in the street, and 
 fell into a very deep pause about the most fearful 
 state my sin had brought me to ; and after long 
 musing, I lifted up my head, but methought I saw, 
 as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge 
 to give light; and as if the stones in the streets, 
 and the tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves 
 against me. Methought that they all combined 
 together to banish me out of the world. I was ab- 
 horred of them, and unfit to dwell among them, or 
 be partaker of their benefits, because I had sinned 
 against the Saviour. O how happy now was every 
 creature over I was ! For they stood fast, and kept 
 their station, but I was gone and lost. 
 
 Then breaking out in the bitterness of my soul, 
 I said to my soul, with a grievous sigh, " How can 
 God comfort such a Avretch as I am ?" I had no 
 sooner said it, but this returned upon me, as an 
 echo doth answer a voice, "This sin is not unto 
 death." At which I was, as if I had been raised 
 out of the grave, and cried out again, " Lord, how 
 couldst thou find out such a w^ord as this ?" For I 
 was filled with admiration at the fitness, and at the 
 unexpectedness of the sentence ; the fitness of the 
 word, the Tightness of the timing of it, the power, 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN 43 
 
 and sweetness, and light, and glory, that came with 
 it also, was marvellous to me to find ; I was now, 
 for the time, out of doubt, as to that about which 
 I so much was in doubt before ; my fears before 
 were, that my sin was not pardonable, and so that 
 I had no right to pray, to repent, &c., or that if I 
 did it would be of no advantage or profit to me. 
 But now, thought I, if this sin is not unto death, 
 then it is pardonable ; therefore from this I have 
 encouragement to come to God by Christ for 
 mercy, to consider the promise of forgiveness, as 
 that which stands with open arms to receive me as 
 well as others 
 
 I would in these days, often in my greatest 
 agonies, even flounce towards the promise, as the 
 horses do towards sound ground that yet stick in 
 the mire ; concluding, though as one almost bereft 
 of his wits through fear, on this will I rest and stay, 
 and leave the fulfilling of it to the God of heaven 
 that made it. Oh ! many a pull hath my heart 
 had with Satan, for that blessed sixth chapter of 
 St. John. I did not now, as at other times, look 
 principally for comfort, though O ! how welcome 
 would it have been unto me ! But now a word, a 
 word to lean a weary soul upon, that it might not 
 sink forever ! it was that I hunted for. 
 
 Yea, often when I have been making to the 
 promise, I have seen as if the Lord would refuse 
 my soul forever, I was often as if I had run upon 
 the pikes, and as if the Lord had thrust at me. to 
 
44 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 keep me from him, as with a flaming sword. Then 
 would I think of Esther, who went to petition the 
 king contrary to law. (Esther, iv. 1 6.) I thought 
 also of Benhadad's servants, who went with ropes 
 upon their heads to their enemies for mercy 
 (I. Kings, XX. 31), &c. The woman of Canaan also, 
 that would not be daunted, though called dog by 
 Christ (Matt. xv. 22), &c., and the man that went to 
 borrow bread at midnight (Luke, i. 5,6, 7, 8), &c., 
 were also great encouragement unto me. 
 
 I never saw those heights and depths in grace, 
 and love, and mercy, as I saw after this temptation; 
 great sins do draw out great grace ; and where 
 guilt is most terrible and fierce, there the mercy of 
 God in Christ, when shewed to the soul, appears 
 most high and mighty. When Job had passed 
 through his captivity, he had twice as much as he 
 had before (Job, xlii. 13). Blessed be God for Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Many other things I might here 
 make observation of, but I would be brief, and 
 therefore shall at this time omit them; and do pray 
 God that my harms may make others fear to offend, 
 lest they also be made to bear the iron yoke as I 
 did 
 
 When I first went to preach the word abroad, 
 the doctors and priests of the country did open 
 wide against me ; but I was persuaded of this, not 
 to render railing for railing ; but to see how many 
 of their carnal professors I could convince of their 
 miserable state by the law, and of the want and 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 45 
 
 worth of Christ ; for, thought I, This shall answer 
 for me in tijne to come, when they shall be for my 
 hire before their face. 
 
 I never cared to meddle with things that were 
 controverted, and in dispute among the saints, 
 especially things of the lowest nature ; yet it 
 pleased me much to contend with great earnest- 
 ness for the word of faith, and the remission of 
 sins by the death and sufferings of Jesus : but I 
 say, as to other things, I should let them alone, 
 because I saw they engendered strife, and because 
 that they neither in doing, nor in leaving undone, 
 did commend us to God to be his ; besides, I saw 
 my work before me did run in another channel, 
 even to carry an awakening word ; to that there- 
 fore I did stick and adhere. 
 
 I never endeavored to, nor durst make use of 
 other men's lines (Rom. xv. i8), (though I do not 
 condemn all that do) ; for I verily thought, and 
 found by experience, that what was taught me by 
 the word and Spirit of Christ, could be spoken, 
 maintained, and stood to by the soundest and best 
 established conscience ; and though I will not now 
 speak all that I know in this matter, yet my experi- 
 ence hath more interest in that text of Scripture 
 (Gal. i. II, 12), than many amongst men are aware. 
 
 If any of those who were awakened by my min- 
 istry, did after that fall back (as sometimes too 
 many did) I can truly say, their loss hath been 
 more to me, than if my own children, begotten of 
 
46 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 my own body, had been going to the grave. I 
 think verily, I may speak it without any offence to 
 the Lord, nothing has gone so near me as that ; 
 unless it was the fear of the loss of the salvation of 
 my own soul. I have counted as if I had goodly 
 buildings and lordships in those places where 
 my children were born : my heart hath been so 
 wrapped up in the glory of this excellent work, 
 that I counted myself more blessed and honoured 
 of God by this, than if he had made me emperor 
 of the Christian world, or the lord of all the glory 
 of the earth without it ! . . . 
 
 I have observed, that where I have had a work 
 to do for God, I have had first, as it were, the 
 going of God upon my spirit, to desire I might 
 preach there : I have also observed, that such and 
 such souls in particular, have been strongly set 
 upon my heart, and I stirred up to wish for their 
 salvation ; and that these veiy souls have, after 
 this, been given in as the fruits of my ministry. I 
 have observed, that a word cast in by the by, hath 
 done more execution in a sermon, than all that 
 was spoken besides; sometimes also, when I have 
 thought I did no good, then I did the most of all ; 
 and at other times, when I thought I should catch 
 them, I have fished for nothing. . . . 
 
 My great desire in my fulfilling my ministry was 
 to get into the darkest places of the country, even 
 amongst those people that were farthest off of pro- 
 fession ; yet not because I could not endure the 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 47 
 
 light (for I feared not to show my gospel to any), 
 but because I found my spirit did lean most after 
 awakening and converting work, and the word that 
 I carried did lean itself most that way also : Yea so 
 have I strived to preach the gospel, not where Chnst 
 was named, lest I should btiild upon another mail's 
 foundation. . . 
 
 It pleased me nothing to see people drink in my 
 opinions, if they seemed ignorant of Jesus Christ, 
 and the worth of their own salvation, sound con- 
 viction for sin, especially unbelief, and an heart set 
 on fire to be saved by Christ, with strong breathings 
 after a truly sanctified soul ; that it was that de- 
 lighted me ; those were the souls I counted blessed. 
 
 But in this work, as in all other, I had my temp- 
 tations attending me, and that of divers kinds; 
 as sometimes I should be assaulted with great dis- 
 couragement therein, fearing that I should not be 
 able to speak a word at all to edification ; nay, that 
 I should not be able to speak sense to the people ; 
 at which times I should have such a strange faint- 
 ness and strengthlessness seize upon my body, that 
 my legs have scarce been able to carry me to the 
 place of exercise. 
 
 Sometimes again, when I have been preaching, 
 I have been violently assaulted with thoughts of 
 blasphemy, and strongly tempted to speak the 
 words with my mouth before the congregation. I 
 have also at sometimes, even when I have begun 
 to speak the word with much clearness, evidence, 
 
48 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 and liberty of speech, yet been before the ending 
 of that opportunity, so bhnded and so estranged 
 from the things I have been speaking, and have 
 been also so straitened in my speech, as to utter- 
 ance before the people, that I have been as if I had 
 not known, or remembered what I have been about; 
 or as if my head had been in a bag all the time of 
 my exercise. 
 
 Again, when as sometimes I have been about to 
 preach upon some smart and searching portion of 
 the word, I have found the tempter suggest, "What! 
 will you preach this ! This condemns yourself; of 
 this your own soul is guilty; wherefore, preach not 
 of this at all ; or if you do, so mince it as to make 
 way for your own escape ; lest instead of awaken- 
 ing others, you lay that guilt upon your own soul, 
 that you will never get from under." 
 
 But I thank the Lord, I have been kept from 
 consenting to these so horrid suggestions, and have 
 rather as Samson, bowed myself with all my might, 
 to condemn sin and transgression wherever I found 
 it ; yea, though therein also, I did bring guilt upon 
 my own conscience. Let me die, thought I, with 
 the Philistines, rather than deal corruptly with the 
 blessed word of God. TJioit that teacJiest another^ 
 teachest not thou thyself? It is far better that thou 
 do judge thyself, even by preaching plainly to 
 others, than that thou, to save thyself, imprison the 
 truth in unrighteousness. Blessed be God for help 
 in this also. . . . 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN ^g 
 
 But when Satan perceived that his thus tempting 
 and assaulting me, would not answer his design ; 
 to wit, to overthrow the ministry, and make it in- 
 effectual, as to the ends thereof; then he tried 
 another way, which was, to stir up the minds of 
 the ignorant and malicious to load me with slan- 
 ders and reproaches : now therefore, I may say, 
 that what the devil could devise, and his instru- 
 ments invent, was whirled up and down the coun- 
 try against me, thinking, as I said, that by that 
 means they should make my ministry to be aban- 
 doned. 
 
 It began therefore to be rumored up and down 
 among the people, that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a 
 highwayman, and the like. 
 
 To all which, I shall only say, God knows that 
 I am innocent. But as for mine accusers, let them 
 provide themselves to meet me before the tribunal 
 of the Son of God, there to answer for all these 
 things, with all the rest of their iniquities, unless' 
 God shall give them repentance for them, for the 
 which I pray with all my heart. . . . 
 
 So then, what shall I say to those who have thus 
 bespattered me ? Shall I threaten them ? Shall I 
 chide them ? Shall I flatter them ? Shall I en- 
 treat them to hold their tongues ? No, not I. 
 Were it not for that these things make them ripe 
 for damnation that are the authors and abettors, I 
 would say unto them, ''Report it," because it will 
 increase my glory. 
 
 c 5 
 
50 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Therefore I bind these lies and slanders to me 
 as an ornament ; it belongs to my Christian pro- 
 fession to be vilified, slandered, reproached, and 
 reviled ; and since all this is nothing else, as my 
 God and my conscience do bear me witness, I re- 
 joice in reproaches for Christ's sake. . . . 
 
 Having made profession of the glorious gospel 
 of Christ a long time, and preached the same about 
 five years, I was apprehended at a meeting of good 
 people in the country ; among whom had they let 
 me alone I should have preached that day; but 
 they took me away from amongst them, and had 
 me before a justice; who, after I had offered 
 security for my appearing the next sessions, yet 
 committed me, because my sureties would not 
 consent to be bound, that I should preach no more 
 to the people. 
 
 At the sessions after, I was indicted for an up- 
 holder and maintainer of unlawful assemblies and 
 conventicles, and for not conforming to the national 
 worship of the Church of England ; and after some 
 conference there with the justices, they taking my 
 plain dealing with them for a confession, as they 
 termed it, of the indictment, did sentence me to a 
 perpetual banishment, because I refused to conform. 
 So being again delivered up to the gaoler's hands, 
 I was had home to prison, and there have lain now 
 complete twelve years, waiting to see what God 
 would suffer these men to do with me. . . . 
 
 I never had in all my life so great an inlet into 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 51 
 
 the word of God as now. Those scriptures that I 
 saw nothing in before, are made in this place and 
 state to shine upon me. Jesus Christ also was 
 never more real and apparent than now : here I 
 have seen and felt him indeed. O that word ! We 
 have not preached unto yon ciifiningly-devised fables ; 
 and that, God raised Christ from the dead , and gave 
 him glory, that yonr faith and hope might be in God, 
 were blessed words unto me, in this my imprisoned 
 condition. . . . 
 
 But notwithstanding these helps, I found myself- 
 a man encompassed with infirmities. The parting 
 with my wife and poor children hath often been to 
 me, in this place, as the pulling the flesh from my 
 bones ; and that not only because I am somewhat 
 too fond of these mercies, but also because I should 
 have often brought to my mind the many hard- 
 ships, miseries, and wants that my poor family 
 was likewise to meet with ; especially my poor 
 blind child, who lay nearer my heart than all I had 
 beside. Oh! the thoughts of the hardships I 
 thought my blind one might go under, would break 
 my heart to pieces. 
 
 Poor child, thought I, what sorrow art thou like 
 to have for thy portion in this world ! Thou must 
 be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, 
 and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now 
 endure the wind should blow upon thee. But yet 
 recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all 
 with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. 
 
52 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Of all the temptations that ever I met with in 
 my life, to question the being of God, and truth of 
 his Gospel is the worst, and the worst to be borne. 
 When this temptation comes, it takes away my 
 girdle from me, and removeth the foundation from 
 under me. Oh ! I have often thought of that word, 
 Have your loins girt about with truth : and of that, 
 When the foundations are destroyed^ zvhat can the 
 righteous do? . . . 
 
 I find to this day seven abominations in my 
 heart i. Inclining to unbelief 2. Suddenly to 
 forget the love and mercy that Christ manifesteth. 
 3. A leaning to the works of the law. 4. Wan- 
 derings and coldness in prayer. 5. To forget to 
 watch for that I pray for. 6. Apt to murmur be- 
 cause I have no more, and yet ready to abuse what 
 I have. 7. I can do none of those things which 
 God commands me, but my corruptions will thrust 
 in themselves. When I wotdd do good, evil is prese?tt 
 zuith me. 
 
 These things I continually see and feel, and 
 am afflicted and oppressed with ; yet the wis- 
 dom of God doth order them for my good. 
 I. They make me abhor myself 2. They keep 
 me from trusting my heart. 3. They convince 
 me of the insufficiency of all inherent righteous- 
 ness. 4. They shew me the necessity of flying 
 to Jesus. 5. They press me to pray unto God. 
 6. They shew me the need I have to watch and 
 be sober. 7. And provoke me to pray unto God, 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 53 
 
 through Christ, to help me, and carry me through 
 this world. 
 
 The following personal description of Bunyan 
 was written by his friend and biographer Mr. 
 Doe: 
 
 " He appeared in countenance to be of a stern 
 and rough temper; but in his conversation mild 
 and affable, not given to loquacity, or much dis- 
 course in company, unless some urgent occasion 
 required it ; observing never to boast of himself, 
 or his parts, but rather seem low in his own eyes, 
 and 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 re- 
 venge injuries, loving to reconcile differences, and 
 make friendship with all. He had a sharp, quick 
 eye, accomplished 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 on 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 not declining 
 or bending, and his mouth moderately large ; his 
 forehead something high, and his habit always 
 plain and modest. 
 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 '*And thus have we impartially described the 
 internal and external parts of a person whose death 
 hath been much regretted; a person who had 
 tried the smiles and frowns of time, not puffed up 
 in prosperity, nor shaken in adversity, always 
 holding the golden mean. 
 
 In him at once did three great worthies shine, 
 Historian, poet, and a choice divine ; 
 Then let him rest in undisturbed dust, 
 Until the resurrection of the just." 
 
 I 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 55 
 
 TRIBUTES TO BUNYAN'S GENIUS. 
 
 " Ingenious dreamer ! in whose well-told tale 
 Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail; 
 Whose humorous vein, strong sense, and simple style, 
 May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile; 
 Witty, and well employed, and, like thy Lord, 
 Speaking in parables his slighted word ; 
 I name thee not, lest so despised a name 
 Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame ; 
 Yet e'en in transitory life's late day, 
 That mingles all my brown with sober gray, 
 Revere the man whose pilgrim marks the road, 
 And guides the progress of the soul to God." — CowpER. 
 
 Dean Swift declared that he "had been better 
 entertained, and more informed, by a chapter in 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, than by a long discourse on 
 the Will and Intellect, and simple or complex 
 ideas." 
 
 " Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and The Holy War 
 are inimitable specimens of genius and humor in 
 the service of experimental religion. His works 
 display an original genius, depth of Christian ex- 
 perience, and much greater precision of thought 
 and expression than might have been expected 
 from a man who made no pretensions to litera- 
 ture." — Dr. Johnson. 
 
 " Bedford jail was the den wherein Bunyan 
 dreamed his dream : The Pilgrim's Progress, a 
 book which the child and his grandmother read 
 
56 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 with equal delight ; and which, more than almost 
 any other work, may be said to be 
 
 * Meet for all hours, and every mood of man,' 
 
 was written in prison, where Bunyan preached to 
 his fellow-prisoners, supported his family by mak- 
 ing tagged laces, and filled up his leisure by writing 
 a considerable part of two folio volumes. The 
 work by which he immortalized himself grew from 
 a sudden thought which occurred while he was 
 writing in a different strain. Its progress he re- 
 lates oddly enough in his rhyming apology, but 
 more curiously in some verses prefixed to the Holy 
 War: 
 
 ' It came from mine own heart, so to my head, 
 And thence into my fingers trickeled ; 
 So to my pen, from whence immediately, 
 On paper I did dribble it daintily.' 
 
 " The curious verses conclude with an anagram, 
 made in noble contempt of orthography : 
 
 * Witness my name ; if anagram' d it be, 
 The letters make A^'tc hotiy in a B.^ 
 
 ". . . . Blind reasoners, who do not see that 
 it is to their intellect, not to their principles of dis- 
 sent, that Milton and Bunyan and De Foe owe 
 their immortality ! strange company, we confess, 
 but each incomparable in his own way." — London 
 Quarterly Review (as quoted in Allibone's Dic- 
 tionary of Authors). 
 
 " I know of no book, the Bible excepted as above 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 57 
 
 all comparison, which I, according to my judgment 
 and experience, could so safely recommend as 
 teaching and enforcing the whole saving truth, ac- 
 cording to the mind that was in Christ Jesus, as 
 The Pilgrim's Progress. It is, in my conviction, 
 incomparably the best Summa Theologicae Evan- 
 gelicae ever produced by_any writer not miracu- 
 lously inspired. . . .Lit is composed in the 
 lowest style of English, without slang or false 
 grammar. If you were to polish it, you would at 
 once destroy the reality of the vision. For works 
 of imagination should be written in very plain 
 language ; the more purely imaginative they are, 
 the more necessary it is to be plain. This won- 
 derful book is one of the few books which may be 
 read repeatedly, at different times, and each time 
 with a new and different pleasure. I read it once 
 as a theologian, and let me assure you that there 
 is great theological acumen in the work; once with 
 devotional feelings; and once as a poet. I could 
 not have believed beforehand, that Calvinism could 
 be painted in such delightful colors."— Coleridge. 
 "Disraeli has well designated Bunyan as the 
 Spenser of the people; every one familiar with his 
 Faery Queen must acknowledge the truth of the 
 description. If it were not apparently incongruous, 
 we could call him, on another score, the spiritual 
 Shakspeare of the world : for the accuracy and 
 charm with which he has delineated the changes 
 and progress of the spiritual life, are not less ex- 
 
58 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 quisite than that of Shakspeare in the Seven Ages, 
 and innumerable scenes of human life." — North 
 American Review, vol. 36. (See AUibone.) 
 
 "The style of Bunyan is delightful to every 
 reader, and invaluable as a study to every person 
 who wishes to obtain a wide command over the 
 English language. The vocabulary is the vocabu- 
 lary of the common people. There is not an ex- 
 pression, if we except a few technical terms of 
 theology, which would puzzle the rudest peasant. 
 We have observed several pages which do not con- 
 tain a single word of more than two syllables. Yet 
 no writer has said more exactly what he meant to 
 say. For magnificence, for pathos, for vehement 
 exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for every pur- 
 pose of the poet, the orator, and the divine, this 
 homely dialect, the dialect of plain workingmen, 
 was perfectly sufficient. There is no book in our 
 literature on which we could so readily stake the 
 fame of the old unpolluted English language ; no 
 book which shows so well how rich that language 
 is in its own proper wealth, and how little it has 
 been improved by all that it has borrowed. Cow- 
 per said forty or fifty years ago that he dared not 
 name John Bunyan in his verse, for fear of moving 
 a sneer. . . . We live in better times ; and we 
 are not afraid to say that, though there were many 
 clever men in England during the latter half of the 
 seventeenth century, there were only two great 
 creative minds. One of those minds produced the 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 
 
 59 
 
 Paradise Lost, and the other, Pilgrim's Progress r — 
 T. B. Mac AULA Y. 
 
 "Bunyan, like all great creators, was gifted with 
 a lively sense of the humorous, and in the charac- 
 ters and adventures we frequently see a comic 
 element of no inconsiderable merit. The sublime 
 and the grotesque, the tender, the terrible, and the 
 humorous, were alike tasted by this truly popular 
 genius. . . . His knowledge of books was very 
 small ; but the English version of the Bible, in 
 which our language exhibits its highest force and 
 perfection, had been studied by him so intensely 
 that he was completely saturated with its spirit. 
 He wrote unconsciously in its style, and the in- 
 numerable scriptural quotations with which his 
 works are incrusted like a mosaic, harmonize, with- 
 out any incongruity, with the general tissue of his 
 language. Except the Bible, from which he bor- 
 rowed, consciously or unconsciously, the main 
 groundwork of his diction, he probably was little 
 acquainted with books. Fox's Martyrs and a few 
 popular legends of knights-errant, such as have 
 ever been a favorite reading among the English 
 peasantry, probably furnished all such materials as 
 he did not find in the Scriptures. The Bible, in- 
 deed, he is reported to have known almost by 
 heart. . . . Bunyan is the most perfect repre- 
 sentative of the plain, vigorous, idiomatic, and 
 sometimesk picturesque and poetical language of 
 the common people. . . . It is surprising how 
 
5o CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 universally Bunyan's diction is drawn from the 
 primitive Teutonic element in our language: for 
 pages together we sometimes meet with nothing 
 but monosyllable and dissyllable words ; with the 
 exception of a few theological terms, his structure 
 is built up' of the solid granite that lies at the 
 bottom of our speech."-^SHAw's Eng. Lit. 
 
 " He was forever watching for souls, as 'one that 
 must give an account;' and that watching made his 
 intellectual eye ransack 'the depths of Satan,' as 
 well as 'the secrets of the heart;' and scrutinize 
 the aspects of the world, as well as range the open 
 fields of visible nature. Nothing that he wrote 
 terminated upon himself, or had its chief charm to 
 him, in either its point or pathos. He sought with 
 keen zeal, and enjoyed with keener zest, happy 
 thoughts, and 'picked and packed words,' as he 
 calls his Saxonisms, but not for their beauty or 
 point as composition, nor as specimens of his own 
 vein ; but because they were wanted to arrest at- 
 tention, and were likely to rivet instruction. . . 
 . . It would be i7rfra dig. in any literary circle, 
 not to admire John Bunyan. He is an integral 
 part of the national character, in common with 
 Milton and Shakspeare ; and thus it is patriotism 
 to praise him. But still, after deducting all this 
 matter-of-course praise, there remains a succession 
 of master-spirits who have paid homage to his 
 genius, in spite of all their hatred to his sect as a 
 Nonconformist, and to his sentiments as an Evan- 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 6 1 
 
 gelical. Neither Dr. Johnson, nor Dr. Southey, 
 nor Sir Walter Scott, nor Lord Byron, could re- 
 member, for their life, whilst reading Bunyan, that 
 he was anything but just a great and good man, 
 who had been very ill used, in bad times. The 
 fact is, he had filled the wide field of their vision 
 with creations they could not imitate, nor find a 
 parallel to, nor help admiring ; and thus they gave 
 way to the gush of their own emotions, because no 
 other writer had ever awakened, in their mighty 
 minds, similar emotions, from such sources, or by 
 such scenes." — Rev. Robert Philip. 
 
 " Honest John Bunyan is the first man I know 
 of who has mingled narrative and dialogue to- 
 gether ; a mode of writing very engaging to the 
 reader, who, in the most interesting passages, finds 
 himself admitted, as it were, into the company, and 
 present at the conversation." — Dr. Franklin. 
 
 "How many children have become better citi- 
 zens of the world through life by the perusal of 
 this book in infancy! How many pilgrims, in 
 hours when perseverance was almost exhausted, 
 and patience was yielding, and clouds and darkness 
 were gathering, have felt a sudden return of ani- 
 mation and courage, from the remembrance of 
 Christian's severe conflicts and his glorious en- 
 trance at last through the gates into the city !"— 
 Dr. Cheever. 
 
 " He was a close student of the book of nature ; 
 a careful observer of human actions in their various 
 
 6 
 
52 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 manifestations and relations. His writings show 
 that he was a great lover of the beautiful and sub- 
 lime in the natural world. He doubtless looked 
 with unbounded admiration on fine landscapes ; on 
 fields in their fresh fragrance, and clothed with rich 
 verdure ; on groves made vocal by the songs of 
 birds ; on streams smoothly gliding through beau- 
 tiful meadows ; on flowers blooming in the fresh- 
 ness of spring ; on fields of waving grain ripening 
 in the summer's sun, and on trees stirred by balmy 
 zephyrs, or loaded with the delicious fruits of 
 autumn. It has been well remarked that he had * an 
 eye for all that is lovely, and an ear for all that is 
 sweet, and a heart for all that is sublime in na- 
 ture.' " — Harsha's Life of Bunyan. 
 
 The French author, Taine, in his able History 
 of English Literature, commenting on a passage in 
 Grace Abottnding : "These sudden alternations, 
 these vehement resolutions, this unlooked-for re- 
 newing of heart, are the products of an involuntary 
 and impassioned imagination, which by its hallu- 
 cinations, its mastery, its fixed ideas, its mad ideas, 
 prepares the way for a poet, and announces one in- 
 spired. . . . Bunyan has the freedom, the tone, 
 the ease, and the clearness of Homer; he is as 
 close to Homer as an Anabaptist tinker could be 
 to an heroic singer, a creator of gods. I err ; he is 
 nearer. Before the sentiment of the sublime, in- 
 equalities are levelled. The depth of emotion raises 
 peasant and poet to the same eminence." . . . 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 63 
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 THE FIRST STAGE. 
 
 As I walked through the wilderness of 
 this world I lighted on a certain place where 
 was a den, and laid me down in that place 
 to sleep ; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. 
 I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed 
 with rags standing in a certain place, with 
 his face from his own house, a book in his 
 hand, and a great burden upon his back. I 
 looked, and saw him open the book, and read 
 therein ; and as he read, he wept and trem- 
 bled ; and not being able longer to contain, 
 he broke out with a lamentable cry, saying, 
 What shall I do ? 
 
 In this plight, therefore, he went home, and 
 restrained himself as long as he could, that 
 his wife and children should not perceive his 
 distress ; but he could not be silent long, be- 
 cause that his trouble increased. Wherefore 
 at leno^th he broke his mind to his wife and 
 children ; and thus he began to talk to them: 
 
64 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 O, my dear wife, said he, and you the chil- 
 dren of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in 
 myself undone by reason of a burden that 
 lieth hard upon me ; moreover, I am cer- 
 tainly informed that this our city will be 
 burnt with fire from heaven ; in which fearful 
 overthrow, both myself, with thee, my wife, 
 and you, my sweet babes, shall miserably 
 come to ruin, except — the which yet I see 
 not — some way of escape can be found 
 whereby we may be delivered. 
 
 At this his relations were sore amazed ; 
 not for that they believed that what he had 
 said to them was true, but because they 
 thought that some frenzy distemper had got 
 into his head ; therefore, it drawing towards 
 night, and they hoping that sleep might settle 
 his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. 
 But the niofht was as troublesome to him as 
 the day ; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he 
 spent it in sighs and tears. So when the 
 morning was come, they would know how he 
 did. He told them. Worse and worse : he 
 also set to talking to them again ; but they 
 began to be hardened. They also thought 
 to drive away his distemper by harsh and 
 surly carriage to him ; sometimes they would 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OE BUNYAN 
 
 6s 
 
 deride, sometimes they would chide, and 
 sometimes they would quite neglect him. 
 Wherefore he began to retire himself to his 
 chamber to pray for and pity them, and also 
 to condole his own misery ; he would also 
 walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes read- 
 ing, and sometimes praying; and thus for 
 some days he spent his time. 
 
 Now I saw upon a time, when he was 
 walking In the fields, that he was, as he was 
 wont, reading In his book, and greatly dis- 
 tressed in his mind ; and as he read, he burst 
 out as he had done before, crying, What shall 
 I do to be saved? 
 
 I saw also that he looked this way, and 
 that way, as if he would run ; yet he stood 
 still, because, as I perceived, he could not tell 
 which way to go. I looked then, and saw 
 a man named Evangelist coming to him, and 
 he asked, Wherefore dost thou cry ? 
 
 He answered. Sir, I perceive by the book 
 In my hand that I am condemned to die, and 
 after that to come to judgment ; and I find 
 that I am not willing to do the first, nor able 
 to do the second. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to 
 
 6* 
 
56 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 die, since this life is attended with so many- 
 evils ? The man answered, Because I fear 
 that this burden that is upon my back will 
 sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall 
 into Tophet. And, sir, if I be not fit to go 
 to prison, I am not fit to go to judgment, and 
 from thence to execution ; and the thoughts 
 of these things make me cry. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this be thy con- 
 dition, why standest thou still ? He answered, 
 Because I know not whither to go. Then he 
 gave him a parchment roll, and there was 
 written within. Fly from the wrath to come. 
 
 The man therefore read it, and looking 
 upon Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither 
 must I fly ? Then said Evangelist, pointing 
 with his finger over a very wide field. Do you 
 see yonder wicket-gate ? The man said. No. 
 Then said the other, Do you see yonder 
 shining light ? He said, I think I do. Then 
 said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, 
 and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see 
 the gate ; at which, when thou knockest, it 
 shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I 
 saw in my dream that the man began to run. 
 Now he had not run far from his own door 
 when his wife and children, perceiving it, be- 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 67 
 
 gan to cry after him to return ; but the man 
 put his fingers In his ears and ran on, crying, 
 Life ! life ! eternal life ! So he looked not 
 behind him, but fled towards the middle of 
 the plain 
 
 4 
 
58 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 I. 
 
 (^) As I walked through the wilderness of 
 this world, (^) I lighted on a certain place 
 (3) where was a den, ('^) and laid me down in 
 that place to sleep, ^ and, (^) as I slept, (5) I 
 dreamed a dream. 
 
 GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS. 
 
 A compound sentence composed of six clauses. 
 The leading clause (2) ; Declarative. I, in pre- 
 dicative combination with ligJiied. On, sign of 
 adverbial combination between lighted and place^ 
 the combination extending the predicate. A, and 
 CERTAIN, each in attributive combination with place. 
 (i) adverbial subordinate to (2), denoting a relation 
 of time. Predicative combination, / walked. As, 
 adverbial conjunction, connecting walked with 
 lighted. Through, sign of adverbial combination 
 between walked and wilderness. The, attributive 
 combination with wilderness. Of, sign of attribu- 
 tive combination between zuilderness and world. 
 (Of is the genitive sign, — here, an appositive geni- 
 tive, not possessive.) This, attributive combination 
 with world. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 69 
 
 (3) Adjective subordinate clause, describing/Z^^^; 
 where for in wJiicJi. 
 
 Four kinds of predication, of action, of quality, 
 of identity, of position. Adverbs may be predi- 
 cates. 
 
 Was a den. Rule : — When a neuter or passive 
 verb is preceded by a preposition and its case, or 
 by an adverb, as here^ there ^ where ^ the subject may 
 follow the verb. 
 
 (4) Copulate co-ordinate with {2). And, con- 
 junction, connecting the clauses in which lighted 
 and laid are the verbs. Laid, predicative combi- 
 nation (/understood). Me, objective combination 
 with laidy which is used reflexively ; me for myself. 
 Down, adverbial combination with laid. In, sign 
 of adverbial combination. To, sign of adverbial 
 combination between laid and sleep. The infinitive 
 like the present participle has the authority of a 
 verb while it submits to government as a substan- 
 tive ; here, as a noun it is under government by 
 the preposition to, which makes it in adverbial 
 combination with laid. The infinitive in this con- 
 struction is often called an abridged sentence, as 
 here to sleep is equivalent to that I might sleep. 
 Thus the Latin idiom requires the conjunction that 
 with the subjunctive mode, where the English may 
 employ the infinitive alone. 
 
 (5) And I dreamed a dream, — copulate co-or- 
 dinate with (4). Dream. Rule : — A noun in the 
 objective case may often follow an intransitive verb 
 
70 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 when the two are kindred in signification. (6) Ad- 
 verbial subordinate to (5). 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 As, "Anglo-Saxon, eal svd^ 'all so,' or 'quite so,* 
 which survives in also. In the twelfth century it 
 had already shrunk into als, a form which still con- 
 tinues in German ; and since that time it has still 
 further lost of its substance so as to be reduced to 
 asr {De Vere.) 
 
 I. — Anglo-Saxon, Ic ; German, Ich ; Latin, Ego. 
 Chaucer sometimes uses Ik^ sometimes also Ich. 
 " It is a great step in the mental development of a 
 child, when it first gives expression to its con- 
 sciousness of individuality and uses the proud /. . 
 . . . This remarkable individuality of pronouns 
 is strikingly illustrated by the historical fact that 
 even in times of conquest and subjugation, they 
 have been most faithfully preserved by the suffer- 
 ing nations. . . . Among so many thousand 
 words imposed upon the conquered race by the 
 victorious Norman there is not to be found a single 
 pronoun." (For further interesting matter, see De 
 Vere's Studies in English, page 240.) 
 
 Walked. — Imperfect of walk. A. S. wealcan^ to 
 roll, turn, revolve, — hence to move, to go. 
 
 Through. — Old English, thurgh ; A. S. thurhy 
 thuruh ; Ger. durcJi. It is the same word with 
 thorough. This identity is illustrated by the word 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 71 
 
 thoi'oiigJifare^ a passage through. Shakspeare, Mer, 
 of Venice, II., 7, uses tJiroiigJifares. Spenser's 
 Faety Queene, Canto I. — " tJwroiigJi great distresse." 
 Door, Ger. TJiur, is allied to through. 
 
 The. — In Anglo-Saxon the definite article was 
 the same in form and declension with the demon- 
 strative that; m. se, f. seo, n. thcst. Genitive, m. 
 thces, f. thcere, n. thces. Of these forms the nomina- 
 tive masculine has been lost ; the nominative femi- 
 nine remains with us in the form of the personal 
 pronoun she. 
 
 Wilderness. — A. S. ivildebrness ; Ger. Wildnisz. 
 
 Of. — A. S. of ; Ger. ab ; allied to Lat. ab. 
 
 This. — A. S. m. thes ; f theos; n. this ; Ger. dieser^ 
 diese, dieses, and dies. ** Pronominal words are 
 found to arrange themselves not under verbal roots, 
 hke other parts of speech, but under certain ele- 
 mentary sounds or syllables. TJi, the strong de- 
 monstrative element, appears in tJie, t/iis, that, tJiere, 
 tJience, thither, thou, thus.'' 
 
 World. — A. S. weorold, worold, world. The 
 Scotch still pronounce the word as if of two sylla- 
 bles, worold. Ger. Welt. 
 
 Lighted. — Imperfect of light. A. S. lihtaiiy 
 althtan. Lihtan, to raise from, to lighten ; hence, 
 to relieve, set free : free it may be from restraint 01 
 law, hence the notion of chance or hap ; to light ou, 
 equivalent to happen on. Formerly the preposition 
 into was used. 
 
 On. — A. S. on. 
 
72 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 A. — A or an is the same in derivation with one^ 
 but different in meaning, being more indefinite than 
 one. It is the A. S. an, the Scotch ane, the Latin 
 nnus, and our numeral one. In German the indefi- 
 nite article and the numeral one are the same in 
 form, ein. In the A. S. an was used before conso- 
 nantal as well as befDre vowel sounds. 
 
 Certain. — French, certain; Italian and Old 
 Spanish, ccrtano ; from Lat. certiis. 
 
 Place. — French, //<^r^ ; Spanish, //<^^<^; Italian, 
 piazza ; from Lat. platea, which meant in classical 
 Latin, a street, in later Latin, a coiirtyaj'd or open 
 square. The word spread through Europe with 
 this last meaning, during the Middle Ages. 
 
 Where. — A. S. hwar, Jnvcer. " Pronominal ele- 
 ment Jiw, a modification of k, which throughout 
 the Indo-European tribes expresses the interroga- 
 tive or relative idea." 
 
 Was. — A. S. wees ; Ger. war ; has no radical con- 
 nection with the verb to be. The case is the same 
 in most other languages also, that the substantive 
 verb is defective and has to borrow forms for its 
 inflection. 
 
 Den. — A. S. den, denn, dcmi, a valley or secluded 
 place. 
 
 And. — A. S. and Ger. imd. 
 
 Laid. — A. S. lecgan, causative verb from licgan, 
 to lie. Ger. legen. 
 
 Me. — A. S. me, mic ; Ger. niich, allied to Lat. 
 me ; Greek, /;^^. M, the element of the first person 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 73 
 
 singular objective appears in me, my, mine, am. It 
 is a more natural designation of self than /, being 
 one of the earliest intelligible sounds, if not the 
 first, which infants utter. 
 
 Down. — A. S. adiin, dim, from dun, a hill. 
 
 In. — A. S. in ; Ger. in, ein. 
 
 That. — A. S. m. tJie, se ; i. theo, seo ; n. that. 
 Pronominal element th. The final letter t is the 
 sign of the neuter gender, as in what, that, it. " Lin- 
 gual mutes, t, d, th, and dh. The lingual has a nat- 
 ural adaptedness to the function of a demonstrative. 
 Pointing of the finger is a natural gesture accom- 
 panying the utterance of that, thon, thither. In 
 Latin, teiteo, tendo, dico, diceo ; Greek, teino, didomi; 
 German, deJmen, zeigen ; Eng., tend, teach, etc., all 
 have the general import of pointing or demon- 
 strating T 
 
 To. — Sign of the infinitive. In A. S. it was not 
 often so used, as it is now, following a general ana- 
 lytic habit of the language as well as the example 
 of the French. When a verb is followed by another 
 preceded by the preposition to, the construction must 
 be considered to have grown out of the so-called 
 gerund, that is the form in nne, the ending of the 
 dative case, which was perhaps always preceded by 
 the preposition to ; to liifienne, ad amandiini. The 
 prepositional force of to may be illustrated here by 
 substituting for : I laid me down for sleep. The 
 former good usage of both prepositions for to be- 
 fore an infinitive expressing purpose, shows that 
 D 7 
 
74 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 to had already lost its force as a preposition. But 
 as to the historical origin of such forms, /^/^ to lualk, 
 for to see, doubtless they grew out of the French 
 idiom oi poiLT (for) before dependent infinitives. 
 
 Sleep. — A. S. slcepan ; Ger. schlafen. 
 
 I. — /and tJioiL are called pronouns, but they are 
 more than that: they directly express personality. 
 
 Dreamed. — Danish, droomen ; Ger. trdimien. 
 
 Dream. — A. S. drom ; Ger, Traum. Compare 
 A. S. dream, joy. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 The language is pure English. Only three 
 words in the sentence (certain, place, place) are of 
 foreign origin. The Anglo-Saxon is our mother 
 tongue. Its offspring has grown to be great and 
 rich, but it forgets not whence it drew its life ; 
 there its holiest memories cluster. Bunyan's lan- 
 guage has that strength and beauty of a pure 
 origin. But such simplicity of diction would hardly 
 be natural to a writer of our day, for it would be 
 literary affectation not to honor the cultivation of 
 our later English with its wealth of foreign words. 
 
 This sentence contains five active verbs ; active 
 verbs have a more graphic effect than passive 
 verbs. 
 
 The sentence contains six nouns, but only one 
 descriptive adjective. The objects are so well 
 named that they require no spending of words for 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 75 
 
 description. The fewer adjectives in a sentence 
 the better. 
 
 The personal pronoun / is repeated five times. 
 This is not the egotism of vanity, but the hvely 
 appearance of a man who is making ready to tell 
 us something. 
 
 Gmniniatical Eqiiivaleiits. — The order of the 
 sentence, as treated in the grammatical analysis 
 above, is, " I lighted on a certain place, as I walked 
 through the wilderness of this world, where was a 
 den . . . and dreamed a dream, as I slept." 
 This is not the logical order, (i) Such an intro- 
 duction would take us by surprise. Our attention 
 must first be drawn to the man as a traveler, before 
 we are ready to hear of his adventures. (2) The 
 relative zvJiere is too far from its antecedent place. 
 (3) The order of climax is violated in the last 
 clause. The dream is the main thing. Definition : 
 — " Climax (ladder) is the ascent of a subject, step 
 by step, from a lower to a higher interest." 
 
 As; WHILE. — WJiile denotes a length of time; 
 it would naturally be used with the progressive 
 form of the imperfect, was ivalking. 
 
 Walked ; was walking. — The progressive im- 
 perfect is used for continued, customary, or re- 
 peated action ; and that form of the verb here, as 
 compared with the imperfect, might hint at a 
 leisurely pace. (2) It might imply that the man 
 kept on walking; it would allow him to notice 
 things by the way, to see, or read, or talk, or be 
 
76 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 the subject of any action consistent with his walk- 
 ing on. But his lighting on a place made an inci- 
 dent at the end of his walk, rather than during the 
 time of it. (3) The progressive imperfect is not 
 ustsd in this passage at all. The author means to 
 write himself out of the scene in a sentence or two, 
 and the narrative is too lively for the slow tense 
 form of the progressive imperfect. 
 
 Through. — Through is full of rhetorical sugges- 
 tion. The word, as compared with over or across^ 
 implies that the way is full of difficulties ; obstacles 
 are to be encountered at every step and pushed 
 right and left for a passage through. A zviiderness 
 is a wild region, it may be a forest of trees and 
 underbrush. Thus the metaphor is true : life is 
 not a barren desert across which we go, but a 
 wilderness, thick of difficult and da^'k surroundings, 
 but here and there letting in light. 
 
 Wilderness of this world ; this wild world. 
 — But the narrative is an allegory. This world's 
 WILDERNESS. — But the whole world is the wilder- 
 ness. Of'is here the sign of an appositive genitive, 
 as in City of Nezu York. 
 
 I LIGHTED ON A CERTAIN PLACE. To light On, 
 
 hit on, strike upon, fall on ; all good idioms, de- 
 noting that the thing might not have occurred ; 
 something casual or surprising ; a stroke, a fall, an 
 accident. The German uses in the same way verbs 
 and nouns corresponding to our fall, strike, hit. 
 Certain. — Strictly, certain is pleonastic. We 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 commonly use it in an apologetic way. To refer 
 one to a certaiii place or thing is to imply that he 
 already knows of it sufficiently, or, at all events, 
 that no further specific mention or description need 
 be given at present. But here the noun place is 
 immediately described by the adjective clause, 
 where zuas a den. 
 
 Lighted on ; discovered.— ZzV///^^ on is Anglo- 
 Saxon. (2) The word discover might carry off 
 one's mind from the natural incident of the man's 
 finding a good place in which to rest ; it suggests 
 a possible incongruity between falling asleep and 
 the animation and self-satisfaction at having found 
 out something new. 
 
 Where was a den; in which was a den.— 
 It would discriminate between the place, and the 
 den as being somewhere in that place, whereas 
 they are made identical ; the place where, that is, 
 the whole place. In my journey I came to a 
 secluded place, a den. 
 
 And there was a den there.— It raises what 
 is logically as well as grammatically a subordinate 
 thought to the rank of a co-ordinate, breaking the 
 unity of the sentence ; besides, it employs the ad- 
 verb there twice. 
 
 And laid me down; I lay down.— Z^/^ is 
 active; lay, neuter. Bunyan illustrates a good 
 prmciple, that active verbs have a more dramatic 
 effect than passive or neuter verbs ; they bring out 
 the actors, the personality, th»e life. 
 
 7* 
 
78 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 In that place. — This repetition of the noun 
 place impresses the picture of the traveler lying 
 asleep in this secluded spot. First, we have the 
 den ; we might lose sight of it, thinking only of the 
 man, but we are made to think also of the sur- 
 roundings, of the kind of place where he lay. 
 
 As I SLEPT. — Bunyan's fullness is not tedious. 
 He makes us follow him step by step, but the 
 steps in the thought are straightforward and rapid, 
 leading us directly to the top of his rhetorical 
 ladder. 
 
 I DREAMED A DREAM. — We know that Bunyan 
 was a devoted student of the Bible. The fact illus- 
 trates his literary style ; and it adds testimony to 
 our English Bible as the purest fountain at which 
 the student can wait, and drink in those influences 
 of study, and breathe that air, and feel that associa- 
 tion which secretly develop and train the natural 
 expression of thought. This sentence is full of 
 biblical idiom. " Walked through the wilderness," 
 Judges, xi. i6. "And he lighted upon a certain 
 place," Gen. xxviii. ii. "I laid me down and 
 slept," Ps. iii. 5. "And Joseph dreamed a dream," 
 Gen. xxxvii. 5. "And he dreamed, and behold," 
 Gen. xxviii. 12. 
 
 This sentence may also be used, although not 
 one of the best passages, to illustrate a singular 
 fact of the rhythmical capabilities of pure English. 
 March's Method of PJiilblogical Study contains a 
 remark on the dactylic cadence of Bunyan's Ian- 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. yg 
 
 guage, and, in illustration of it, a passage which 
 bears a writing out in the form of a dactylic hex- 
 ameter stanza. The English Bible is eminent for 
 its rhythmical verses ; and later than that our best 
 prose literature also abounds in such sentences. It 
 seems to be true that good English is metrical 
 English, the dactyl being its characteristic foot. 
 
 As I I walked through the j wilderness | of this | world *' I j 
 
 lighted I on a 
 Certain place | where was a | den," and [ laid me | down in that 
 
 I place to I sleep. 
 And as I | slept I | dreamed a [ dream. 
 
8o CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 II. 
 
 (^) I dreamed, (') and, (3) behold, (^) I saw 
 a man clothed with rags, standing in a cer- 
 tain place, with his face from his own house, 
 a book in his hand, and a great burden upon 
 his back. 
 
 GRAMMATICAL. 
 
 A compound sentence of three clauses, (i) De- 
 clarative. (3) Imperative ; behold^ in predicative 
 combination with tJioii^ understood. But the word 
 as used here has the syntax of an interjection. 
 
 (2) Copulate co-ordinate with ( i). Clothed, perf 
 part, attributive combination with man. With, 
 sign of adverbial combination between clothed and 
 rags. Participles have the syntax of adjectives, but 
 being verbal forms, they are regularly subject to 
 adverbial or objective qualification. 
 
 Standing, attributive combination with man. In, 
 sign of adverbial combination between standing 
 and place. Witli is often used idiomatically for the 
 present participle having. Face, objective combi- 
 nation with ivith. From, sign of adverbial combi- 
 nation between turned, understood, attributive to 
 face^ — and house. Book and burden in the same 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 3i 
 
 government with face. Hand and back, each in 
 adverbial combination with zvith. In and upon, 
 signs of adverbial combinations. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Behold. — A. S. bcJicaldan^ to behold, that is, to 
 hold in sight. Ger., behalteii, to hold or keep, 
 "The prefix be^ originally the same word as by; 
 A. S. be, and bi or big ; Ger. be and bei. It denotes 
 nearness, closeness, about, on, at, and generally has 
 an intensive force, though it is sometimes appa- 
 rently insignificant." 
 
 The forming of new words by prefixes to old 
 was common in Anglo-Saxon, but it was a habit 
 to which the English language has never been 
 favorable. If the prefix had already lost its origi- 
 nal significance the word remained, as begin, for- 
 give, anszver ; or if the prefix had taken the accent, 
 that would save the word, as income, bygone ; but 
 if the prefix still had an obvious meaning as a 
 preposition or adverb, the tendency in the English 
 language has been to make it a separate word fol- 
 lowing the verb. 
 
 Saw. — Imperfect tense of see. A. S. seon, for 
 sehwan; Ger. seJien, saJi, gesehen. Allied to Lat. 
 secare, to cut, divide, distinguish. Compare cernere. 
 
 Man. — A. S. viann ; Ger. Mann, from the Sans- 
 krit man, to think. Lat. mens, mind. 
 
32 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Clothed. — Perfect participle of clothe. A. S. 
 clddlijan ; Ger. kleiden. 
 
 Rag. — Gaelic and Irish, rag; A. S. hracod, raked, 
 ragged, hracian, to rake, tear; Danish, rage ; Swed- 
 ish, raka, to rake, scrape. 
 
 Standing. — Pres. part, of stand. A. S. standaii ; 
 Provincial Ger. standeti ; Ger. stehen ; Lat. sto. 
 
 With. — A. S. widh, wid. 
 
 His. — A. S. his, genitive of he, and also of the 
 neuter hit (it). Its, the present genitive of it, is 
 nowhere used in the first edition of the Bible, but 
 generally his or thereof: " The fruit-tree yielding 
 fruit after his kind." 
 
 Face. — French, face ; Lat. fades, form, shape, 
 face, (rorcifaccre, to make.. 
 
 From. — A. S.fram; Old High German, y><^;;2. 
 
 Own. — A. S. dgen, past part, of dgan, to possess; 
 Ger. eigen. Our verbs to ozve and to ozvn are from 
 the same root (ag-en). " It may sound odd to 
 speak of a man as owning what he oivcs ; yet, if we 
 wall think of it, there are few things that can rightly 
 be said to be more a man's own than his debts ; 
 they are emphatically proper to him or his property^ 
 clinging to him as they do, like a part of himself." 
 {Craik}j 
 
 House. — A. S. Hits ; Ger. Hans. Probably de- 
 rived from the same root with English hat (Ger. 
 Hnt) ; hilt (Ger. Hiitte) ; hide (Ger. Hani), the origi- 
 nal root meaning in general to cover or protect. 
 
 Hand. — A. S. and Ger. Hand. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 ^l 
 
 Great. — A. S. great ; Ger. grosz, "allied to Lat. 
 graiidis, and perhaps also to Lat. grossiis and 
 crassiis, thick." 
 
 Burden (written also burthen). — A. S. byrdhen ; 
 Ger. Burde, from the root of bear ; A. S. berajt. 
 
 Upon. — A. S. iippan. " Perhaps two words, de- 
 rivative nppan from ?//, and compound tip and on^ 
 have mixed, to give us ttpony [Maj'ch's Anglo- 
 Saxon Gram) 
 
 Back. — A. S. bcec^ bac ; O. H. Ger. bacho, back, 
 cheek. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 A German translation makes two sentences here : 
 " I dreamed and lo ! I saw a man stand there 
 (da stehen), who was clothed in rags. His face he 
 had turned from his house, a book in his hand, and 
 a heavy burden upon his back." 
 
 Bunyan's language has the unity and whole 
 effect of a picture. The man is not described to us 
 in sentences, but presented to us all at once. The 
 traits are mentioned in the natural order. We are 
 struck first generally with his wretched appearance. 
 A stranger is identified by his dress. He appeals 
 to us by his attitude, or some peculiarity of the 
 place where he stands. Our next thought is, 
 *' Where do you come from? Where is your 
 home ?" While recovering from our surprise we 
 may see that he carries a book, and on coming 
 
84 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 nearer, or if he happen to turn around, we shall 
 see also the burden on his back. 
 
 The German idiom suggests rhetorical equiva- 
 lents. 
 
 Behold ! lo ! — Behold may be parsed as an in- 
 terjection, but it is not without its proper force as 
 a verb in the imperative mode. The writer calls 
 our attention, bids us look too, at the same time 
 with him. 
 
 Standing; to stand. — Man stand makes too 
 close a recurrence of the vowel sound. Man stand- 
 ing would be a little less unpleasant, as the final 
 syllable ing serves to modify the strict vocal allitera- 
 tion in the two monosyllables, or run it off into 
 another sound. (2) To stand calls attention to the 
 act itself rather than to the actor. The infinitive 
 states a fact absolutely without any finite (definite) 
 relation to the actor. But the participle identifies 
 the actor with the act; it is an attributive or adjec- 
 tive word describing, representing the man in the 
 act. 
 
 In a certain place ; there. — Bunyan's phrase 
 excites the reader's interest. The word certai?i 
 hints at a peculiarity which might be worth re- 
 marking about the place where he stood. There 
 has no antecedent ; it makes the reader suspect for 
 the moment that he has lost some previous refer- 
 ence to the place. 
 
 Clothed; who was clothed. — We have the 
 man described in immediate connection with the 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 85 
 
 first mention of him ; we see him not as a man who 
 is presently to be referred to, but we see him at 
 once as he is, a man in rags. If the relative be 
 used, then the description of the man is yet to 
 come; we do not know him yet. (2) The use of 
 the relative allows us to conceive of other men, 
 from whom this one is singled out and referred to. 
 (3) The relative requires at least one more verb, 
 and so far tends to complicate the sentence. 
 
 Clothed with rags; clothed in rags. — In 
 such an expression we use in or with indifferently. 
 If we are bound to seek for a shade of difference 
 here — zvith generally denotes instrumentality or 
 accompaniment. Accordingly it should suggest 
 that the man had nothing else to put on ; his 
 clothing, all of it, was made with, made up of, con- 
 sisted of, rags. 
 
 The meaning of the verb to clothe is to cover^ 
 cover sufficiently, cover zvitJi something. The 
 preposition i)i doubtless came to be used with the 
 verb, or participle clothed or clad, when men went 
 in (inside of) armor. "Yclad in mighty arms and 
 silver shield." The Bible always uses zvith after 
 clotlic or clothed, except three times, when the refer- 
 ence is to the clothing of rich or royal persons, and 
 once, " clothed in sackcloth." The dress is extraor- 
 dinary. Attention is drawn to what is outside; 
 the person is under it or in it, inside. To say that 
 a lady is clothed or dressed " in black," " in silk," 
 " dressed in the style," etc., implies that she has 
 
 8 
 
36 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 other dresses ; her present appearance is occasional. 
 " She dresses with taste," "he is clothed with rags," 
 that is, that is his (usual) dress, that is the way he 
 goes, covered only with rags. 
 
 With his face from ; his face he had 
 turned; having his face from. 
 
 Had turned is in the pluperfect tense. But it is 
 not meant that he had just turned around ; we care 
 nothing about that. A comma after Jiad^oMX^. be 
 a mechanical expedient to make the expression 
 more nearly a grammatical equivalent, but it would 
 be at the expense of making /«<f^ the object of Jiad; 
 he had his face ! But face is the object of the 
 verb whether it be had or had turned. But an ob- 
 ject should always follow its verb unless for the 
 sake of contrast or emphasis, or other reason for 
 giving it unusual prominence. A sentence has 
 two prominent places, the beginning and the end ; 
 at the first our attention is excited, at the last it 
 rests. In Bunyan's phrase the participle turned is 
 not expressed ; it is, however, understood, for the 
 noMwface requires a participle after it to receive the 
 adverbial qualification denoted by from. If the 
 word were expressed and thereby made prominent, 
 it might imply that his face alone was turned away, 
 suggesting an uncomfortable twisting of the neck. 
 But the expression, with his face from his hojise, 
 means facing, fronting, from the house, looking 
 from it, standing with his back towards the house. 
 
 Having his face from. — The verb to have should 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 87 
 
 hardly be followed by the preposition from. We 
 have a thing at hand, not from us. 
 
 A GREAT BURDEN ; A HEAVY BURDEN. — The mean- 
 ing of heavy is already implied in burden, and as a 
 word which adds nothing to the sense it only bur- 
 dens the sentence. But the adjective great has 
 force. The burden was large and oppressive, 
 which meanings are sufficiently expressed by the 
 single word great. 
 
 Upon his back. — Upon and on are used inter- 
 changeably. But we may often discriminate, letting 
 npon, since it is in form a compound of up and on, 
 denote that the object is measurably high. On the 
 ground ; iipon the roof, upon his back. "Upon" 
 also " conveys a more distinct notion than on car- 
 ries with it of something that literally or metaphori- 
 cally bears or supports. Upon is less used than 
 formerly, on for the most part taking its place." 
 
 I DREAMED AND BEHOLD I SAW A MAN ; I SAW IN 
 
 MY DREAM A MAN. — The latter brings dream and 
 man too near together. It was not a dreamy man ; 
 he appeared not as in a dream, but in all the dis- 
 tinctness of reality ; I saw a man, says Bunyan. 
 
 There appeared a man. — To appear may mean 
 to arise as in a mist, to make an apparition, to seem 
 to be, only, and not really to exist. 
 
 House, home. — The noun house is one of the 
 most effective words in the description. A house 
 is an object which immediately addresses the sight ; 
 
S8 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 but home cannot be so immediately defined. It 
 may refer to the family circle and domestic ties as 
 well as to the house and surroundings. The pos- 
 sessive adjective ozvn before house is a sufficient 
 hint, if need be, of the man's residence there. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 89 
 
 III. 
 
 (') I looked ('') and saw him open the book 
 and read therein, (3) and ('^) as he read 
 (3) he wept (5) and trembled ; (^) and not 
 being able longer to contain, he broke out 
 with a lamentable cry, saying, (7) What shall 
 I do ? 
 
 GRAMMATICAL. 
 
 (2) Copulate co-ordinate with (i). Ellipsis of 
 the nominative /, with which sazv is in predicative 
 combination. Him, quasi-pre'dicative combination 
 with open. Him is attracted into the case of an 
 object of saw, although it is the subject of open. 
 This is a common idiomatic construction in the 
 English as well as in the Latin and Greek. The 
 subject of the infinitive is put in the accusative be- 
 cause it is usually the same as the object of the 
 preceding verb, or is capable for the moment of 
 being so conceived. The rule states the logical 
 relation of the infinitive and objective ; but if that 
 logical relation had always been distinctly before 
 the minds of those who started the idiom, the idiom 
 never would have started. 
 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Book, objective comb, with open. And connects 
 open and read, which are in the same government, 
 objective comb, with saw. Therein, adverbial 
 comb, with read. (3) Cop. co-ordinate with (2). 
 (4) Adv. subordinate to (3) and (5). (5) Cop. co- 
 ordinate with (3) ; elhpsis of the nominative Jie. 
 
 (6) Cop. co-ordinate with (5). Not, adverbial comb, 
 with being able. Being, sign of quasi-predicative 
 combination of able with he. 
 
 Longer, adverbial comb, with to contain. Con- 
 tain. The infinitive may combine with an ad- 
 jective or a substantive as well as a finite verb. 
 With, sign of adverbial combination between broke 
 out and cry. Saying, a gerund (participle used 
 adverbially), in adverbial comb, with broke out. 
 
 (7) Substantive subordinate, in objective comb, 
 with saying. What, interrogative pronoun, in ob- 
 jective comb, with shall do. 
 
 Shall is an auxiliary denoting future time, yet 
 it retains its primitive strength as a principal verb 
 expressing obligation or necessity (shall, should ; 
 Ger. soUen, sollte, gesollt). This inherent power 
 of the word, making the sense in this instance, 
 what must I do, is manifest if it be emphasized. 
 Perhaps shall will some day have dropped out of 
 use as a mere sign of the future, letting zvill have 
 the whole of that office, and returning to its old 
 employment. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. qi 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Looked. — Look, A. S. locian ; Provincial Ger. 
 liigen^ allied to the Sanskrit lok and lotsh, to see. 
 
 Him. — A. S. dative case (case of the indirect 
 object), — singular and plural of he and Jiit (it). It 
 is now always called an objective case, and is the 
 only masculine form of it. ^was the dative case 
 ending masculine and neuter in A. S., as it still is 
 of the dative singular in the German. Our unin- 
 flected language requires the preposition to to de- 
 note the dative case, although after such verbs as 
 to give, telly etc., him, them, whom, have kept their 
 dative force, requiring no preposition. Then by 
 the example of that usage other pronouns and 
 nouns not ending with the dative sign m also could 
 be used after the same verbs, without the prepo- 
 sition. 
 
 Open. — A. S. openian ; Ger. offnen, formed on 
 the preposition aiif; hence to make up, out, open. 
 
 Book. — A. S. boo ; Ger. Bitch, from A. S. boce, 
 beech ; Ger. Biiche, because the ancient Saxons 
 and Germans wrote on beechen boards. 
 
 Read. — A. S. redan ; Ger. reden. 
 
 He. — A. S. He, fem. Jieo, neut. Jiit. 
 
 Wept. — Imp. of weep. A. S. zvepan. (A weak 
 verb. Weak verbs are such as require aid from 
 without ; the addition of d or ed to form the past 
 tense and past participle. The ancient or strong 
 
92 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 verbs are so called because they form their parts 
 from within themselves, merely by changing their 
 vowel.) The imperfect of weep is spelled and pro- 
 nounced wept, because / and d will not blend in 
 sound in a single syllable. The consonants /, y^ t, 
 k, s, til as in tJiink, sJi in sliine, are called surds or 
 aspirates ; b, v, d, g, z, th in thiiie, are called so7iants 
 or vocal. A surd and sonant cannot be pronounced 
 together in one syllable. The sonant becomes a 
 surd, or the surd a sonant. Thus wepd must be 
 pronounced either wcbd or wept. 
 
 Trembled. — Tremble, French trembler, irom Lat. 
 tremidiis, from tremerv, to shake. There are other 
 examples of an euphonic b inserted after accented in 
 followed by / or ;- .• as number, from Lat. ntimerus ; 
 cucumber, from Lat. cuacmis, eris ; humble, Lat. 
 humUis ; remember, Lat. rememorare. 
 
 Not. — A. S. ndivilit, ndht, ndt. " The Saxon 
 wild is the same word with wight, which we now 
 use only for a man, in the same manner as we have 
 come in the language of the present day to under- 
 stand creature almost exclusively in the sense of a 
 living creature, although it was formerly used 
 freely for everything created. . . . No zvhit is 
 not anything, no zuhat, not at all. And our modern 
 not (anciently nought) is undoubtedly no zuhit: how 
 otherwise is the ^^ to be accounted fori^ So that 
 our English, 'I do ;/^/ speak,' =1 do 7io ^e^/^/V speak, 
 is an exactly literal translation of the French * Je 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 93 
 
 7te park pas' (or point\ which many people beheve 
 to contain a double negative." (Craik.) 
 
 Being. — To be. A. S. beo7t, beonne. A defective 
 verb in A. S. and English, as it is in most languages. 
 The forms ?>, are, zuas, which help out the conju- 
 gation of the verb to be, have no radical connection 
 with it. 
 
 Able. — Old French able ; New French, habile, 
 from Lat. habilis, that may be easily held or man- 
 aged ; apt, skillful, from habere, to have, hold. 
 
 Longer. — Long. A. S. long, lang ; Ger. lang^ 
 allied to Lat. longus. 
 
 Contain. — Lat. continere, to hold together, con^ 
 together, and tenere. 
 
 Broke. — Break. A. S. brecan ; Ger. brechen; al- 
 lied to Lat. frangere, for fragere. According to 
 Grimm's Law, the Latin/" becomes b, and Latin g 
 becomes k or c, in English and German. — See Ap- 
 pendix, Grimm's Law. 
 
 Out. — A. S. ut ; Ger. aus. 
 
 Lamentable. — French, lamentable ; Lat. lamen- 
 tabilis. 
 
 Cry. — Fr. cri, from crier, to cry ; Italian, gridare ; 
 Lat. qiiiritare. 
 
 Saying, — To say. Old Eng. segge, seggen ; A. S. 
 secgan, seggan ; Ger. sagen. 
 
 What. — A.S.Invdt ; 'Low G^r. wat ; High Ger. 
 zvas ; Gothic hva, allied to Lat. quid. 
 
 The interrogative element hw or zvh appears in 
 who, zvhat, zvhicJi, zvhether, zvhence, zvhere, zuhither, 
 
p4 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 when, lozv, ivliy. "//is a modification of /% which 
 throughout the Indo-European tongues expresses 
 the interrogative or relative idea. H itself is nat- 
 urally adapted to express a breathing or aspiration, 
 a want; hence interrogative." The letter / is the 
 sign of the neuter gender, as in wJiat, that, it. 
 
 Shall. — A. S. seal, sceal, I am obliged ; Ger: 
 sollen. 
 
 Do. — A. S. eion ; Ger. iJmn. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 I LOOKED. — The spectacle was such as to arouse 
 me and fix my attention. What is that strange 
 man about ? I shall look and see. The interest 
 now is in what the man does. In the former sen- 
 tence the object of the verb saiu was a noun fol- 
 lowed by participles, clothed, standing, in attributive 
 combination with the noun ; thus the man was de- 
 scribed, identified with his clothing and attitude. 
 In the present sentence we have predicative instead 
 of attributive combinations; the object of the verb 
 saw is immediately made the subject of an act, and 
 thus by the u.>-:e of the infinitive instead of the par- 
 ticiple we aie let^ to tliink of what he does rather 
 than of what he is. However, the previous descrip- 
 tion of him was so vividly drawn that we cannot 
 indeed but see him in the act of opening the book. 
 
 Therein. — The German darin has no common 
 equivalent, like the English in thcity in it. Except 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 
 
 95 
 
 in books or dignified language, we should popu- 
 larly say in it instead of thcrcbi. 
 
 As HE READ. — The clauses are in logical order. 
 The mind of the reader is led along easily from 
 cause to effect. As is an equivalent to while ^ but 
 it does not make the notion of time so definite or 
 •prominent as while. While he read means only, 
 during the time that he read ; his emotions might 
 have been excited by thoughts quite foreign from 
 his reading. But as contains another element in 
 its meaning besides that of time (as, inasmuch as, 
 seeing that, because) ; it sufficiently expresses what 
 while does not necessarily express, that his reading 
 was the cause or excitement of his emotions. 
 
 He wept ; he began to weep. — Bunyan's man 
 tvept, outright. When a vigorous writer means to 
 tell us what a man did, he does not tell us what the 
 man began to do, Begin implies deliberation, in- 
 tention, a measuring of progress. 
 
 Not being able ; being unable. — Not is stronger 
 than the negative prefix //;/. 
 
 Contain. — We no longer use contain as an in- 
 transitive verb. We may use it reflexively. Per- 
 haps it is from the scriptural representation of evil 
 spirits within us, which it is our duty to subdue or 
 keep in check, that we have come to use the verb 
 restrain rather than contain^ in reference to our 
 strong feelings. Restrain is used generally of the 
 stronger emotions and passions. Contain is used 
 with reference to the more volatile emotions. But 
 
96 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 the noun continence or incontinence refers specifically 
 to the baser passions. The verb also is so used in 
 the Bible. 
 
 Broke out. — How more expressive of violent 
 emotion than uttered or exclaimed would be ! 
 
 The whole sentence contains ten verbs. So 
 many verbs generally would involve a sentence ; 
 but here the unity and consequence of the thought 
 are well preserved. We are made to see the man 
 open the book and read, and, as he swells with 
 emotion caused by what he reads, he bursts out 
 crying. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. gj 
 
 IV. 
 
 At this his relations were sore amazed ; 
 not for that they believed that what he had 
 said to them was true, but because they 
 thought that some frenzy distemper had got 
 into his head ; therefore, It drawing towards 
 night and they hoping that sleep might settle 
 his brains, with all haste they got him to bed. 
 
 The parsing of this sentence will be sufficiently 
 indicated by filling out the elliptical clauses, thus : 
 (They were) not (amazed) for (the reason) that they 
 believed that what he had said to them was true, 
 but (they were amazed) because they thought that 
 some frenzy distemper had got into his head. 
 
 That after for is the sign of a substantive subor- 
 dinate clause, tJiey believed, in apposition with reason. 
 That after believed is the sign of the substantive 
 subordinate sentence, of two clauses, zvhat he had 
 said to them zuas true, in objective combination with 
 believed. To analyze this subordinate sentence, — 
 ivhat zuas true makes a substantive subordinate 
 clause in objective combination with //^ /^^^ j<^/c/, — 
 that is, lie had said to them zvJiat was true. There- 
 fore it drazvijig tozvards night and they hoping that, 
 etc.; // and they, nominative independent. 
 E 9 
 
gS CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 V. 
 
 The man therefore read It, and looking 
 upon Evangelist very carefully, said, ''Whither 
 must I fly ?" Then said EvangeHst, pointing 
 with his finger over a very wide field, "Do 
 you see yonder wicket-gate ?" The man 
 said, " No." Then said the other, " Do you 
 see yonder shining light?" He said, "I think 
 I do." Then said Evangelist, " Keep that 
 light In your eye, and go up directly thereto, 
 so shalt thou see the o^ate ; at which when 
 thou knockest. It shall be told thee what thou 
 shalt do." 
 
 It is left to the teacher to see that the syntax of 
 every sentence is understood before going at the 
 etymologies and minute verbal criticism. It is well 
 to require at every other lesson, or at discretion, a 
 written analysis like the one in Appendix A, which 
 is copied, by permission of the author, from March's 
 Study of the English Language. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Therefore. — Conj. and adv., from there ^nd for. 
 The e is added by a false analogy ; the word is 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OE BUNYAN. 
 
 99 
 
 equivalent to for that (reason). There, from A. S. 
 thcere, dative case feminine of the demonstrative 
 that. In composition, as in therefore, thereto, it has 
 its pronominal force. 
 
 Very. — Old Eng. veray ; French verai, vrai, from 
 Lat. verax, true. 
 
 Carefully. — Care-ful-ly ; noun, care. A. S. car:-, 
 allied to Lat. cnra. 
 
 Said. — A. S. scugde, scede ; imp. of say ; Old Eng. 
 ^^SS^^ ^^SS^^^^ ^<^Y7/, say en, sayn ; A. S. secgan, 
 seggaii ; Ger. sagen. 
 
 Whither. — O. Eng. whider ; A. S, Jiwceder. 
 
 Must. — O. Eng. nioste, most ; O. Sax. moste ; 
 Ger. inusscn ; imp. muszte ; p. part, geimiszt ; but 
 in English it has no variation to express tense, 
 person, and number. 
 
 Pointing. — Pres. part, of point. Fr. pointer ; 
 O. Fr. poincter, from Lat. pungere, ptinctum. , 
 
 Finger. — A. S. and Ger. Finger, from A. S. 
 fangan; Ger. fangcn, to catch. Compare fang, 
 fangs. 
 
 Wide. — A. S. ivid; Ger. iveit. In Anglo-Saxon 
 adverbs were formed from adjectives by adding e : 
 adj. ivtd, adv. zvide. So in English the word is 
 used adverbially as well as adjectively. 
 
 Field. — A. S. and Ger. Feld. 
 
 You. — A. S. ebiv, is a true accusative, regu- 
 larly so used in the Bible. But it is now used 
 also as a nominative in place of ye and commonly 
 of tJwu. 
 
100 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Yonder. — Adv. sometimes used as an adjective- 
 A. S. gcoiid, land, there, beyond ; Ger. jencr. 
 
 Wicket. — O. Fr. wiket, guischet ; N. Fr. guichet^ 
 from Icel. zvik, recess, corner ; A., S. zvic^ recess, 
 port. 
 
 Gate. — A. S. geat, gat, gate, door ; Ger. Gasse, 
 path, from Gothic gitan ; A. S. getan ; Eng. get. 
 
 No. — A. S. nd ; Skr. na. 
 
 Other. — A. S. bdJicr ; Ger. andef 
 
 Shining. — Shine. A. S. scinan ; Ger. scheineii. 
 
 Light. — A. S. Icbht, lyJit ; Ger. Licht. 
 
 Think. — A. S. tJicncan ; Ger. denken. 
 
 Keep. — O. Eng. kepeii ; A. S. cepan. 
 
 Your. — O. Eng. yoiire, gure ; A. S. cower; Ger. 
 euer. 
 
 Eye. — A. S. eage ; Ger. Auge, alhed to Lat 
 ocidus. 
 
 Directly. — Adv. Adj. direct; Lat. directus^ 
 p. p. of dirigere. 
 
 So. — A. S. swa ; Gothic, sva ; Ger. so. 
 
 Thou. — A. S. tJuL ; Ger. dii, allied to Lat. tit ; 
 Gr. sii. 
 
 At.— A. S. cBt. 
 
 Which. — O. Eng. ivhilke, ivhiche ; A. S. hzvylic^ 
 Jiwa and lie, who like ; Ger. zvelch. 
 
 When. — A. S. hwenne ; Ger. ivann, wenri. 
 
 Knockest. — Second person singular of k?iock. 
 A. S. cnocian. 
 
 Shall. — "The use o^ shall to denote future time 
 may be traced to a remote antiquity in our Ian- 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN iqi 
 
 guage ; that of will is of much later origin, and pre- 
 vailed chiefly in our northern dialects. Writers, 
 however, who paid much attention to their style, 
 generally used these terms with greater precision. 
 The assertion of will or of duty seems to have been 
 considered by them as implying to a certain extent 
 the power to will or to impose a duty. As a man 
 has power to will for himself only, it was only in 
 the first person that the verb ivill could be used 
 with this signification ; and in the other persons it 
 was left free to take that latitude of meaning which 
 popular usage had given to it. Again, the power 
 which overrides the will to impose a duty must 
 proceed from some external agency; and conse- 
 quently shall could not be employed to denote 
 such power in the first person. In the first person, 
 therefore, it was left free to follow the popular mean- 
 ing, but in the other two was tied to its original 
 and more precise signification. These distinctions 
 still continue a shibboleth for the natives of the 
 two sister kingdoms. Walter Scott, as is well 
 known to his readers, could never thoroughly 
 master the difficulty." 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 The man therefore read it; having read 
 IT. — For a writer or speaker to state a thing clearly 
 and forcibly, it is necessary to have a clear percep- 
 tion of it in his own mind. To come back from a 
 
102 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 remarkable place or object and attempt to describe 
 it, the effort is not to recall only the more salient 
 or noteworthy points of it, nor just the thoughts 
 which arose at tire time of seeing it, but to recall 
 the whole thing in imagination, and describe it, as 
 though it were present addressing itself to the 
 senses, in the order of the prominence or impor- 
 tance of its features. The secret of Bunyan's vivid 
 description lies in his vivid imagination. He makes 
 it all so clear to us because he saw it all so clearly 
 himself, although he chooses to call it a dream. 
 " The man read it," he says ; he saw him reading 
 it. It is not, " having read it ;" it is not thus as- 
 sumed that he read it. Bunyan remarked every- 
 thing that he did, and makes us also spectators of 
 every act. 
 
 Therefore. — It is characteristic of Bunyan to 
 introduce his sentences with conjunctions, there- 
 fore, wherefore, then, now, so ; but he does not 
 always observe their logical force. The right use 
 of tlicrcfore is to denote a reason, or logical, not 
 temporal, consequence, '' Therefore and tJicn are 
 both used in reasoning; but therefore takes the 
 lead, while thoi is rather subordinate or incidental. 
 Thej'efore states reasons and draws inferences in 
 form ; then, to a great extent, takes the point as 
 proved, and passes on to the general conclusion. 
 * TJurcfore being justified by faith, we have peace 
 with God.' ' So, then, faith cometh by hearing, 
 and hearing by the word of God.' " 
 
GN THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. jq^ 
 
 Looking upon.— The force of the present parti- 
 ciple here, as compared with the verb in the im- 
 perfect, is to give us a picture of the man as he 
 raises his eyes from the parchment roll and fixes 
 a searching look on Evangelist. 
 
 ''To look on implies more of dignity or delib- 
 eration in the act of looking than to look atr 
 
 Very carefully. — Ger. translation, betrilbi ; 
 French, attentivemcnt. Bunyan's word \s> better 
 than any expression of anxiety. Christian was 
 then in that stupor of despair when any new 
 alarm is heard without a shock. *' Fly from 
 the wrath to come,"— the words only puzzle him 
 now, instead of agitating him, and he regards 
 Evangelist very carcfitlly^ as though not a little 
 suspicious of him, and wondering at a man who 
 tells him no more than what he already knows. 
 Yes, but ''zvhithcr must I flee?" That is his 
 anxiety. 
 
 Whither.— The word is rightly used here, as it 
 always is (of course) in the Bible. WJiither means 
 to what place, as luhere means at what place ; and 
 the difference between 7£'//////^r and where is just the 
 diflbrence between to (toivards) and at, or into and in; 
 the former being used with verbs denoting motion, 
 and the latter with verbs of rest. But the ungram- 
 matical use of ivhere for zuhither, as, '' Where are 
 you going ?" is so common and settled in the idiom 
 of the people that the use of whither would nVht 
 away stamp a man as a stranger or a pedant. 
 
104 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 The same thing is true of hither (to here, to this 
 place) and thither [to tJiere, to that place). 
 
 Fly. — If Bunyan thus wrote the ^Nox(^,fly, he for 
 once was at fault in his quoting from the Bible. 
 Matt. iii. 7, " Flee from the wrath to come." 
 {Flee. — A. S. Jleohaii, fleon ; Ger. jiieJien. Fly. — 
 A. S. flebgan ; Ger. jliegen.) To fly is used only 
 of creatures with wings, or conceived to have them, 
 or of objects that flash, as sparks, or that move in 
 the air, as clouds. 
 
 Then said Evangelist; then Evangelist 
 SAID. — The latter is the order in simple sentences, 
 subject, — predicate. But words may change places 
 for the sake of contrast or emphasis or other rhe- 
 torical effect. Our attention was last on Christian; 
 now we hear Evangelist ; then said Evangelist. 
 (2) This order makes better rhythm. (3) It brings 
 the attributive word pointing close by its noun, 
 Evangelist, pointing. 
 
 Say. — Synonyms, — Speak, Tell. See Webster, 
 under Tell. 
 
 Pointing with his finger. — It might seem un- 
 important to add that he used his finger in point- 
 ing. We should suppose so anyhow/ But that 
 upraised arm and pointing with the finger explains 
 the picture, it interprets the attitude and eager look 
 of Christian, for see, evidently one man is telling 
 the other whither to go; Evangelist is directing 
 him while he is straining his sight in the direction 
 of Evangelist's finger. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF DUNYAN. 
 
 105 
 
 Over; across. — Across means from side to side; 
 it has in view the two opposite limits. Over is 
 more vague or indefinite; across, it may be, and 
 beyond the field. 
 
 Yonder. — Yonder is not often used as an ad- 
 jective. We are more apt to say, " Do you see 
 that gate yonder?'' thus putting the word in ad- 
 verbial combination with standing or zvhicli is, or 
 some other word or clause understood. 
 
 No. — Poor man ! He was in such a tremor of 
 expectancy then, his feelings were so wrought 
 up that he was hardly in a condition for seeing 
 anything clearly. But mark how nervously he 
 answers. See before, where he addresses Evan- 
 gelist, Sir. In such a frame of mind as Christian 
 is now in, a man would hear acutely everything 
 that is said, but in that very eagerness to hear and 
 see anything that so vitally concerns him his 
 answers would be quick and short, and the circum- 
 stances should excuse any seeming want of civility. 
 '' No," he says. 
 
 I THINK I DO. — We need not be told how hard 
 he looked and would not be disappointed. It is 
 expressed in I — think — I — do, which we conceive 
 to have been thus uttered, deliberately. 
 
 Keep that light. — Evangelist "has no wish to 
 detain him. His directions are straightforward 
 and brief. 
 
 In your eye. — It is a German idiom. But we 
 should hardly speak of keeping or putting anything 
 
I06 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 in one's eye ; the eye is too delicate an organ to 
 conceive of it as being touched, metaphorically or 
 literally, except when we may speak technically of 
 such gentle influences as rays of light falling upon 
 the eye, not into it We regard things as coming 
 before the eyes. But we can say with propriety 
 keep in sight; hence the present idiom, to keep in 
 the eye, arises naturally from the former by a kind 
 of metonymy : the eye is the means of sight. The 
 two words go together in eyesight. When the 
 expression, to have in one's eye, gets into figurative 
 use it is doubly objectionable, — to have in one's 
 mind's eye. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN, 
 
 107 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then did Christian address himself to go 
 back; and Evangelist, after he had kissed 
 him, gave him one smile and bid him God 
 speed ; so he went on with haste, neither 
 spoke he to any man by the way; nor If any 
 man asked him would he vouchsafe them an 
 answer. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Then. — O. Eng. thanne, than; A. S. thonne, 
 thaujie, thenne ; Ger. dann. 
 
 Did. — Imperfect tense of do. It is not formed 
 after the analogy of weak verbs by the addition of 
 d. In Anglo-Saxon it was spelled dide ; di being 
 a reduplication of the root. The preterits of old 
 verbs are so formed in A. S. as well as in Greek, 
 
 Christian. — Lat. christianiLS ; Gr. christianos, 
 from christos, anointed. 
 
 Address. — Fr. adresser, also used reflexlvely, 
 s'adresser, — ad and dresser. Italian, dirizzare^ from 
 Lat. directtis ; perf part, of dirigere. " The primary 
 sense of the word is still retained in such phrases 
 as. To dress the ranks ; and it is not far departed 
 
I08 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 from in such as, To dress cloth or leather, To dress 
 a wound, To dress meat. The notion of decora- 
 tion or embellishment which we commonly asso- 
 ciate with dressing does not enter fully even into 
 the expression, To dress the hair. In To redress^ 
 meaning to set to rights again that which has gone 
 wrong, to make that which was crooked once more 
 straight, we have the simple etymological or radi- 
 cal import of the word completely preserved. To 
 redress is to re-rectify." [Craik) 
 
 Himself. — Self. A. S. self ; Ger. selb, sclber, 
 selbst. " Self appears to be a substantive, though 
 sylfm the Anglo-Saxon was declined and was used 
 as an adjective. It has selves, the plural form of a 
 noun. It is used as a noun, as, tlie lover of self 
 In myself, thyself, ourselves, yourselves, it appears to 
 be a substantive preceded by a genitive case : My- 
 self = my individuality. In hi? J is e If Siwd themselves 
 the construction is that of a substantive in apposi- 
 tion with a pronoun in the accusative. When him- 
 self [diwd so with themselves) is used as a nominative 
 it must be viewed as a single word compounded ; 
 and even then the compound will be of an irregular 
 kind, inasmuch as the inflectional element m is 
 dealt with as part and parcel of the root." [Fow- 
 ler's Grammar.) 
 
 To. — "The prepositional form of the infinitive is 
 used after the majority of English verbs, as I zvish 
 to speak, I mean to go. Here we have the prepo- 
 sition to, and the origin of the infinitive is from the 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN jcQ 
 
 form in niie. Expressions like to err =^ error; to 
 forgive =^ forgiveness^ in lines like 
 
 " To err is human ; io forgive, divine !" 
 
 are very remarkable. They exhibit the phenome- 
 non of a nominative case having grown not only 
 out of a dative, but out of a dative plus its govern- 
 ing preposition." 
 
 Go. — A. S. gangan, gdn ; Ger. geJien. Gang is 
 still used for^<? in the north of England and in Scot- 
 land. A gang of men, of robbers, so called from 
 their going together. We have also gangboard, 
 gangivay (going way), a passage. 
 
 Back. — A. S. on bcec ; Eng. aback, from the noun 
 back. A. S. bcec. 
 
 Evangelist. — Fr. evangeliste ; Lat. evangelista ; 
 Gr. enaggelisteys, one who brings good tidings. 
 
 After. — A. S. cefter, comp. degree of aft, now 
 used as a nautical term ; A. S. csft, from *A. S. af 
 cef of; Eng. of; Lat. ab. 
 
 Had. — Contracted from A. S. hafde, lidfed, — that 
 is, Jiaved. 
 
 Kissed. — Kiss. A. S. cyssan ; Ger. kiissen. 
 
 Gave. — Give. A,S.gifan; Gqv. geben. 
 
 Smile. — Dan. smile; Old Ger. schmielen, to 
 smile, allied to ^ans. snii, to laugh. 
 
 Bid. — Imp. [bid or bade) of bid. A. S. biddan ; 
 Ger. bitten ; A. S. imp. bced ; Eng. bade. It takes 
 another form of the imperfect, bid, by force of 
 analogy with did, bit, hid, rid, etc. 
 
 lO 
 
no CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 God speed. — 11. John, lo, " Neither bid him God 
 speedy But Gen. xxiv. 12, ''I pray thee send me 
 good speed this day." Good in A. S. was written 
 god^ hence the mistaking of the phrase good 
 speed for God speed ; / wisJi yott good speed, or 
 success, for may God speed you. On the other hand, 
 good-by is probably a contraction of God be with 
 you. O. French, a Dieu soyez^ to God be ye 
 (committed). 
 
 Went. — Imp. of wend, now used as the imper- 
 fect oi go, but having no radical connection with it. 
 " The semi-vowels w and y from their extreme 
 weakness are naturally adapted to express weak- 
 ness, gentle motion, and kindred ideas : wend^ 
 wind, wandevy wagon, zueigh, ivay, zvave, wag, 
 vehicle, vacillate, volume, etc. Compare also words 
 in Latin and German." 
 
 Haste. — Ger. Hast, whence old French haste ; 
 N. Fr. hute. 
 
 Neither. — Compounded oi ne and either. 
 
 Spoke. — Imp. of speak. A. S. sprecan ; Ger. 
 sprechen. 
 
 Any. — A. S. cinig; O. H. Ger. einic ; Ger. einig, 
 " This word is derived from an, one, and the 
 termination ig or ic, which in the Teutonic dia- 
 lects corresponds to the Latin ic in mus-ic-us, un- 
 ic-us." 
 
 By. — A. S. be, bi, big, near to, by, of, from, after, 
 according to ; Ger. bei. 
 
 Way. — A. S. and Ger. ivcg. 
 
 A 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. m 
 
 Nor. — Contracted from A. S. nddhor^ for ndh- 
 wddJier. 
 
 ' If.— O. Eng. and A. S. gif. " The A. S. ^z/has 
 been explained by Home Tooke and by others 
 after him, as simply the imperative second person 
 singular of the verb gifan, to give. If would in 
 that case be equivalent to graJit, allozu, admit. Thus, 
 
 * if ih.o\x wilt/ — that is, give the fact that thou wilt, — 
 
 * thou canst make me whole ;' * ^ John shall arrive 
 in season,' — grant, stippose that he shall arrive, — 'I 
 will send him with a message.' This etymology is 
 plausible in itself, and is favored by the old use of 
 that after if ; as, if that John shall arrive, etc. But 
 it is not supported by the form and use of the cor- 
 responding words in other Teutonic languages, 
 and it must therefore be looked upon as uncertain 
 at least, if not as improbable." 
 
 Asked. — Imp. of ask. O. Eng. asche, axe ; A. S. 
 ascian, acsian ; Ger. hcischen. " S and k inter- 
 change not infrequently, and the much-blamed 
 vulgarism of substituting to axe for to ask, finds 
 more than one justification in older authors. The 
 fact is, the verb was originally acsian, and hence 
 Wickliffe is not so far wrong when he says, ' Axe 
 ye and yhe schulen take ;' nor Chaucer in his con- 
 stant use of to axe, and an axing. [De Vere.) 
 
 Would. — Imp. oiwill. O. Eng. and A. S. wolde ; 
 Ger. zvollte. 
 
 Vouchsafe. — From votich and safe, to vouch 
 (Fr. voucher ; Lat. vocare) or answer, for safety. 
 
112 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 To permit to be done without danger. 2. To con- 
 descend to grant. 
 
 Answer. — A. S. andszvara. Etymologically a 
 stronger word than reply, respond, rejoin, — mean- 
 ing to swear back. The prefix and = Lat. ante ; Gr. 
 antij in return. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 Did. — The verb to do is used as an auxiHary in 
 forming negative or interrogative sentences, or for 
 emphasis ; otherwise it is in old style, as here, did 
 address. This use of the word only enfeebles the 
 expression. 
 
 Address himself. Gram, equiv.: determine; 
 prepare; make haste. — Christian was ashamed of 
 his error. There was no question as to what he 
 must do ; he had not to make up his mind about 
 it. Yet, under the weight of his sorrow and in 
 the grave presence of Evangelist, it would not 
 become him to manifest impatience or haste to 
 be off Neither is prepare so good a word as 
 Bunyan's. Say that a man prepares for a jour- 
 ney, and we are led to think of outside matters, 
 maybe the packing of trunks. The German equiva- 
 lent is sicli schicken, to dispose or adapt one's self, 
 lit, to send himself In the phrase. To address 
 one's self, the verb keeps to its primary meaning, to 
 direct or fit one's self, — that is, to direct one's 
 thoughts diligently to the matter. It means here 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN n^ 
 
 that Christian's whole engrossing thought was to 
 get back. 
 
 Go BACK ; RETURN. — He might return by another 
 path; but no, alas! he has to go back the same 
 long way he came. Back is full of moral sugges- 
 tion: time wasted, penitence, humility. 
 
 After he had kissed him. — The allegory here 
 covers three peculiar features of the gospel, and 
 which being prominent facts appear in a proposi- 
 tional form of illustration, and not in mere adjec- 
 tive combination. It is asserted, although in a 
 subordinate clause, that Evangelist kissed the trav- 
 eler ; and then he gave him one smile, one tender 
 look of encouragement, and bid him God speed. 
 But if it were, " Evangelist having kissed him, gave 
 him," etc., such a construction would obscure or 
 present as incidental a principal fact which claims 
 specific mention. The Saviour will receive, em- 
 brace, penitent sinners ; in their new life he gives 
 them his smiles, his sympathy, and favor, — the gift 
 of the gospel, — and he bids them God speed, be- 
 seeches God in their behalf Christ is Redeemer, 
 Exemplar, Advocate. 
 
 Went on. — Note the force of on. It is not said 
 merely that he went, set out, with haste, but that 
 he kept on ; we are made to see him all the while 
 walking fast. 
 
 With haste. — In the Bible, wherever there might 
 be a choice of expression between ivith haste and in 
 haste, the latter phrase is invariably used, unless 
 
 lO* 
 
1 1 4 CLA SS-RO OM DRILL 
 
 the same or an antithetical preposition, in or out, is 
 employed close by, or for some like reason against 
 the use oiin. 
 
 Neither spoke he. — It is in itself a slight thing 
 by the way that Christian spoke to no one. But 
 the mention of it adds interest to the narrative. To 
 speak of him as walking fast, heeding nobody, and 
 not even minding the civility of replying to any 
 questions, makes a natural and lively representa- 
 tion of his anxiety and eagerness. 
 
 By the way. — Along or on the road. Luke x. 
 4, " Salute no man by the way." The phrase also 
 comes to be used figuratively, meaning aside, in- 
 cidentally, not directly on the line of remark, though 
 connected or occurring with it. 
 
 Vouchsafe. — To condescend to grant. A good 
 word ; but as it is not quite smooth of pronuncia- 
 tion, and as there is hardly occasion for it among 
 people who meet one another on a political level, 
 calling no man master^ it is virtually obsolete, ex- 
 cept in supplications to the Deity, or in formal 
 petitions to sovereigns. 
 
 Them, for him. — No wonder if Bunyan is some- 
 times ungrammatical. It would read better with- 
 out any pronoun or dative object at all, inasmuch 
 as him is already used in the line before, referring 
 to Christian. 
 
 Answer. — Synonyms, — reply ^ response, rejoinder. 
 See Webster, under Reply. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. ue 
 
 Then did [ Christian ad | dress him [ self to go | back, J and Ev I 
 
 angelist, 
 After he had | kissed him | gave him one | smile % and | bid him 
 
 God I speed. 
 So he went | on with | ha^te, % neither | spoke he to | any man [ 
 
 by the way. 
 Nor if I any man | asked him J would he vouch- | safe them an | 
 
 answer. 
 
jj5 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 VII. 
 
 He went like one that was all the while 
 treading on forbidden ground, and could by 
 no means think himself safe, till again he was 
 got into the way which he had left to follow 
 Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Like. — Adv. A. S. geluc, from gclic, lie ; Ger. 
 gleich. Like and near, as adverb or adjective, have 
 also a prepositional character, being followed by 
 nouns in the dative case. Sometimes the prepo- 
 sition (to or nntd), as often in the Bible, is ex- 
 pressed. Compare Latin similis, proprior, proxinms. 
 
 That. — Used relatively as well as demonstra- 
 tively. 
 
 All. — A. S. eall, al ; Ger. alle. If the definite 
 article is used with it, it always precedes the article, 
 and the definite adjectives my, thy, his, our, your, their. 
 
 While. — A. S. hzvii ; Ger. weile ; originally a 
 substantive. Compare ////, to-morrow, yesterday. 
 
 Treading. — Tread. A. S. tredan ; Ger. treten^ 
 allied to Lat. trudere, to thrust, shove forward. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. jj^ 
 
 Forbidden. — i^^r^/^. A. S. forbebdan ; Ger. 
 verbieten. 
 
 Ground.— A. S. and Ger. Grund ; "Gothic, 
 grundus, originally dust, earth, gravel, and hence^ 
 the gravelly bottom of a river or lake of the sea' 
 from A. S. grindan ; Eng. grind. Compare Gen 
 Grand, gravel, coarse meal, from A. 'S. grindan ; 
 Eng. grind!' 
 
 Could. — Imp. of can. A. S. cnnnan ; Ger. 
 konncn. Im^. A. 'S,. ctidhc ; Qqx. konnte. "The 
 auxiliary can presents a curious example of the 
 power of analogy. Although a regular verb, it 
 was already in the days of Chaucer as frequently 
 written with an o as with an a, and Icon and I conde 
 (Ger. konnte) are met with as often as I can. In its 
 use as an auxiliary / ^^;/^/,^ occurred continually by 
 the side of I zvoidd and I should, and by the mere 
 force of analogy it took an inorganic /, which was 
 never pronounced, as was the case in the other two 
 verbs. Then the letter ;/, unpronounceable where 
 it stood, was dropped, and thus / conde became / 
 coidd. The transformation was no doubt aided 
 and accelerated by a desire to distinguish it from 
 the similar to ken and its past tense / kennede 
 (Ger. kannte), which still survives, as in ' not to 
 my ken; the Scotch canny, and our cinmingr [De 
 Vcre.) 
 
 No.— O. Eng. non, abbreviated from no7ie; A. S. 
 nan, from nc, not, and an, one. Compare Lat. nemo, 
 from 7ie, not, and /lomo, man. 
 
Il8 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Means. — Plural of mean. Fr, vioyen ; Lat. 
 mediamis, — that is in the middle. 
 
 Think. — A. S. tJiencan, tJiyncan ; Ger. denken- 
 The same verb in A. S., but in Ger. diuikcji, is used 
 in the phrases victldnks, metJioiigJit. ** These are 
 genuine Anglo-Saxon phrases, equivalent to it seems 
 to me^ it seemed to me. In these expressions me is 
 actually in the dative case, — almost the only in- 
 stance remaining in the language." 
 
 Safe. — Old Fr. salv, sa/f, saiif; Lat. salvus,'i^xo\i- 
 ably allied to servare, to save, preserve. 
 
 Till. — A. S. tU, probably accusative of til, till, an 
 end, object, station ; Ger. Ziel, end, limit, goal. 
 " This word in Sw. and Dan., as in Scottish, signi- 
 fies to or at, and is the principal word used where 
 we use to." 
 
 Again. — O. Eng. agen; A. S. dgeii, ongeu, ongedn, 
 ongegn, again, gen, gebn, gegn, against ; GcY.gege?i, 
 gen, against ; dagegen; again. 
 
 Got. — Get, got, got [gotten obsolescent). A. S. 
 getan ; O. H. Ger. gezan, to obtain. We no longer 
 use the verb to be as an auxiliary with get, nor 
 generally with verbs of motion. 
 
 Which. — O. Eng. wJdlke, whicJie ; A. S. Jiwylic, 
 Jiwelc ; G&r. weleh ; Go\.\\\c, hznleiks, hveleiks, iron\ 
 live, dative of hvas, who, and leiks, like, equal. 
 ** Which is properly an adjective, — wha-liks, ' whilk,' 
 ' which thing I hate,' and therefore is now inde- 
 clinable. It is not properly the neuter of zvho, and 
 is of all genders. Hence, ' Our Father which art 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN hq 
 
 in heaven' is grammatically accurate, and is re- 
 garded by some as more reverential and less 
 personal than ivJio!' [^Angiis)) 
 
 Left. — Imp. of leave. A. S. Icefan; O. H. 
 Ger. lipan, pilipan, biliban ; Mid. H. Ger. liben^ 
 beliben, bliben ; N. H. Ger. bleiben, allied to Lat. 
 linqiiere, and Gr. leipein. 
 
 Follow. — A. S.folgian ; GQY.folgeji. 
 
 Mr. — For Mister, contracted from Lat. magistery 
 like master. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 Like one; as one; in the manner of one. — 
 Like is more than an adverb of manner. The 
 meaning here is, he went looking like, etc., and thus 
 often an ellipsis might be supplied, showing like to 
 be an adjective where we call it an adverb. 
 
 That ; who. — TJiat is used as a relative pronoun, 
 but it is a demonstrative word (dem. element tli), 
 and accordingly its reference to the antecedent is 
 more definite than tvlio. " If the relative clause 
 simply conveys an additional idea, and is not 
 properly explanatory or restrictive, who or which 
 (not that) is employed ; as, the king that (or zvho) 
 rules well ; Victoria, zuho (not that) rules well." 
 
 All the while. — Remark the force of this ad- 
 verbial phrase as denoting an increasing painful 
 sense of being an intruder. If it were only a few 
 steps of forbidden ground, he should presently feel 
 
120 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 relief; but here he was, all the while trembling with 
 fear, his embarrassment increasing at every step. 
 
 Treading. — What an expressive word to use 
 here, as compared with goings or ivalking, or any 
 other equivalent ! This verb has reference to the 
 feet, more than ivalk has, which latter means rather 
 to use the limbs for motion. He went in haste, 
 but see him timidly striding along on tiptoe, — 
 touching the ground lightly, not walking with a 
 boldj firm step. The words treading Txnd forbidden 
 have that picture in them. 
 
 Could. — Imp. of can, and sign of the potential 
 mode. It is not said simply that he did not think 
 himself safe, but that he could not feel so, that 
 single word giving us a hint of his inward struggle. 
 The qualifying phrase, by no means, is more than 
 an equivalent for not. It implies that he had tried 
 all sorts of comforting suggestion and reassurance, 
 but it was in vain to satisfy his conscience or calm 
 his feelings. 
 
 Was got; had come. — What relief now! He 
 has not only come again into the right way, he 
 has not only reached his object; he has it, — it is 
 as something in possession, which he can rejoice 
 over. Although the verb to get is used idiomatic- 
 ally, as here, without its transitive meaning, it 
 does not lose its force of denoting that something 
 is obtained, accomplished. 
 
 Counsel; advice. — Counsel is from the same 
 root as consult. Christian lent a ready car to the 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN 
 
 121 
 
 man, invited his advice, and then, Hking it, followed 
 it. He could not excuse himself on the plea that 
 he was so and so instructed ; he is responsible, he 
 took counsel, — that is, advice which he shared in 
 offering to himself. 
 
122 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So In process of time Christian got up to 
 the gate. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Process.— Lat. processus. 
 
 Time. — A. S. tima, for tiJiama, from tihan^ to say. 
 Up. — A. S. tip, 7{pp, nppe ; Ger. anf. 
 Gate. — A. S. gcat, gat, gate, door ; Ger. Gasse'y 
 path. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 Process of time. — Gen. iv. 3, "In process of 
 time Cain brought an offering." Ex. ii. 23, " In 
 process of time the king of Egypt died." We may 
 discriminate between process of time and course of 
 time. Course, that which has been already run or 
 gone over, as in history. Process, passing, going 
 forth, advance. 
 
 So IN process; thus in process. — So and tJius 
 are adverbs of manner and of degree, but thus is 
 more demonstrative (tJi, strong demonstrative ele- 
 ment) than so. It is not meant that in tJds manner 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 123 
 
 (of haste) he got up to the gate, but only that it so 
 happened, so it was, in process of time. 
 
 In process of time. — We are made to feel that 
 precious time has been consumed in following 
 Worldly Wiseman's counsel. 
 
 Got up to the gate; reached the gate. — The 
 adverb 7ip has little room in the sentence, but it 
 has in itself a sentence full of meaning. The gate 
 was far off, and the route to it was made difficult by 
 his distress of mind ; it was as hard as climbing up 
 a steep hill. 
 
124 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now, over the gate there was written, 
 "Knock, and It shall be opened unto you." 
 
 He knocked therefore, more than once or 
 twice, saying, — 
 
 " May I now enter here ? Will he within 
 Open to sorry me, though I have been 
 An undeserving rebel ? Then shall I 
 Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high." 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Now.— A. S. and O. H. Ger. nit; N. H. Ger. 
 min, allied to Greek nun, nu ; Lat. mine. 
 
 Over. — A. S. ofcr, obcr ; Ger. ubcr, allied to Skr. 
 It pari ; Gr. npcr ; Lat. super. 
 
 There. — A. S. theer ; Ger. da. 
 
 Written. — Write. A. S. zuritan, gezurltan. 
 
 Knock. — A. S. cnoeian. 
 
 Unto. — O. Sax. ?/;///, to, till, and Eng. to. The 
 word is now used only in antiquated, formal, or 
 scriptural style. 
 
 More. — A. S. mdra, mcera; Ger. mehr. 
 
 Than. — Same word as then. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 
 
 125 
 
 Once. — O. Eng. oncs^ onis, enes^ onste^ from one ; 
 Ger. einst, from ein. 
 
 " Numerals produce adverbs like adjectives 
 through the genitive form, and give us thus once 
 instead of ones, which, although not found in 
 Anglo-Saxon, was probably common in early dia- 
 lects, as it occurs so frequently in old authors. 
 The frequent use of this word ones with a demon- 
 strative than before it, had led to the contraction 
 of the two words into one, after the same manner 
 in which nadder has come from an adder, and newt 
 from an eft. Thus, in Madden's ' Glossary to 
 Gawan,' we still find the forms separate, ' for than 
 ones; but afterwards they were contracted, and 
 produced our English word nonce, now commonly 
 used only in the phrase ' for the nonce! " 
 
 Twice and thrice are genitive forms like once, 
 Tivice = tzai -\-wara (Skr.) two + times. {Bopp) 
 
 Or. — Contracted from A. S. ddher, ddhor, for 
 dwdher; O. Eng. on ther, other, ather, ay there ; Ger. 
 Oder; e.g. "Tell us by what auctoritie thou doest 
 these thynges. Other who is he that gave the 
 thys auctorite." (Tyndale's New Testament) 
 
 \\ 
 
126 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 X. 
 
 At last there came a grave person to the 
 gate, named Goodwill, who asked who was 
 there, and whence he came, and what he 
 would have. 
 
 PHILOLOGICAL. 
 
 Last. — A. S. latost (latest) ; late, A. S. lat ; Ger. 
 lasz, slow, lazy. 
 
 There. — Expletive in the syntax. Used for ac- 
 commodation to begin sentences. 
 
 Came. — Come. A. S. cuinan; Ger. komjuen. 
 
 Grave. — Fr. grave ; O. Fr. grief (Eng. grief) ; 
 from Lat. gravis, heavy. 
 
 Person. — Fr. personne, from 'L.sX. persona, a mask, 
 a personage, a person. 
 
 Named. — To name. A. S. iiamian, nemnaii ; Ger. 
 nennen. 
 
 Good-will. — Good. A. S. god ; Ger. gut, allied 
 to Gr. a-gathos. Will. A. S. willa, zville ; Ger. 
 Wille. 
 
 Who. — A. S. hzua; Icel, hver; O. H. Ger. hzver; 
 Ger. wer. 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN 
 
 127 
 
 Whence. — O. Eng. zuheniies, wJieiis^ — genitive 
 termination. 
 
 Have. — A. S. Jiabban ; Ger. haben, allied to Lat. 
 habere^ whence Norman Fr. liaber; O. Fr. avci\ 
 aveir; N. Fr. avoir. 
 
 RHETORICAL. 
 
 Now. — In narrative or argument the conjunction 
 now denotes a point gained, or a pause in the story. 
 The story-teller rests a moment for a full breath, 
 and resumes : iiozv, there was, etc. 
 
 Over the gate. — Bunyan might have used the 
 pronoun it for the second mention of the gate, but 
 he repeats the noun, using it twice in the same line ; 
 thus he keeps the gate before us, — makes us look 
 too, while the traveler pauses to read. 
 
 He knocked therefore. — The word therefore 
 shows us that Christian first read the writing. 
 
 More than once or twice. — Ger. trans, one, 
 two, and several times. He became impatient at 
 the gate, yet he was so glad that he breaks out 
 singing. 
 
 Poeta nascituf^ — Bunyan was a true poet, born 
 so. His natural style of composition is eminently 
 poetic. He was not born to compose rhymes. 
 But his affectation of it lends a new charm to the 
 simplicity of his language, as it illustrates the 
 simplicity of his character; how unconscious the 
 
128 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 author was that in his prose he was already writing 
 the best kind of poetry ! 
 
 Came a grave person to the gate ; came to 
 THE gate a grave PERSON. — It is simply the coming 
 of the person, not particularly his coining to the 
 gate, that now attracts attention; therefore the 
 order of the words. 
 
 At last appeared a man with earnest and yet 
 
 MILD face at the GATE. He WAS CALLED GOOD- 
 WILL, AND ASKED WHO WAS THERE, WHENCE THE 
 PILGRIM CAME, AND WHAT HE WANTED. (German 
 
 translation.) 
 
 At the LAST A VENERABLE PERSON NAMED GOOD- 
 WILL CAME TO THE GATE AND SAID, " WhO IS 
 
 THERE ?" " Whence do you come, and what do 
 YOU WANT ?" (French translation.) 
 
 (i) Bunyan uses fewer words than the German 
 translation, and all in one sentence, giving in one 
 thought the coming of the grave person and his 
 immediate asking of questions, denoting a quick 
 interest in the pilgrim. (2) The German transla- 
 tion puts the verb asked in copulative co-ordination 
 with ivas called, which verbs are not logical in the 
 thought. (3) The French translation gives us the 
 questions directly from the questioner, and with a 
 suggestion of gruffness, whereas in Bunyan's lan- 
 guage the questions are put right in connection 
 with the name Goodwill. (4) Came is a better 
 word than appeared. There was no suddenness of 
 appearance. First we hear the footsteps, he is 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 129 
 
 coming", then we see him coming on to the gate. 
 (5) One word describes not only his appearance, 
 but also his manner, his walk. " Earnest yet mild 
 countenance," — four words, which not only fail to 
 describe the personal appearance as forcibly as 
 grave, but they put the reader to the trouble of 
 conceiving how two such dissimilar features might 
 consist in one characteristic expression. (6) Good- 
 will should hardly be a venerable person. . . 
 
130 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 CHRISTIAN IN DOUBTING CASTLE. 
 
 Now there was, not far from the place 
 where they lay, a castle, called Doubting 
 Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, 
 and It was In his grounds they now were 
 sleeping; wherefore he, getting up In the 
 morning early, and walking up and down In 
 his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful 
 asleep in his grounds. Then, with a grim 
 and surly voice, he bid them awake, and 
 asked them whence they were, and what 
 they did In his grounds? They told him 
 they were pilgrims, and that they had lost 
 their way. Then said the giant. You have 
 this night trespassed on me, by trampling 
 and lying on my ground, and therefore you 
 must go along with me. So they were 
 forced to go, because he was stronger than 
 they. They also had but little to say, for 
 they knew themselves In fault. The giant, 
 therefore, drove them before him, and put 
 them Into his castle. In a very dark dungeon, 
 nasty, and stinking to the spirits of those two 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 131 
 
 men. Here they lay from Wednesday morn- 
 ing till Saturday night, without one bit of 
 bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to 
 ask how they did : they were therefore here 
 in evil case, and were far from friends and 
 acquaintance. Now in this place Christian 
 had double sorrow, because it was through 
 his unadvised counsel that they were brought 
 into this distress. 
 
 Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her 
 name was Difhdence v^ so when he was gone 
 
 * The first edition of the Pilgrim's Progress came out in 1678. 
 In 1847 the Hansard Knollys Society in England published an 
 edition, which was an exact reprint of the first edition, containing 
 an introduction by George Offer. A copy of this reprint came 
 into the hands of the poet James Montgomery. He observes that 
 the character of Diffidence does not appear in the first edition. 
 Montgomery says, " I am pleased with his (Mr. Offer's) colloca- 
 tion of so many early editions of the work. It is curious enough 
 to find, among the more important additions successively made by 
 Bunyan during the republications of the work in his lifetime, that 
 the character of Mrs, Diffidence, with which every reader now is 
 so familiar, was originally introduced iii the second edition, Giant 
 Despair having, it seems, been a bachelor in the first. I recollect 
 often wondering, when a boy, why it was that the giant and his wife 
 always discussed the fate of the Pilgrims in bed. There are several 
 other insertions of importance, as in the instance of Mr. Worldly- 
 wise-man, and particularly in the long interview between Bye- 
 ends and his company, which, excellent as it is in matter, and 
 interesting as an episode, always appeared to me as an after- 
 thought of the author, tending as it does rather to interrupt than 
 advance the progress of the story." 
 
132 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 to bed, he told his wife what he had done, 
 to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners 
 and cast them into his dungeon, for trespass- 
 ing on his grounds. Then he asked her also 
 what he had best do further to them. So she 
 asked him what they were, whence they came, 
 and whither they were bound, and he told 
 her. Then she counselled him, that when he 
 arose in the morning, he should beat them 
 without mercy. So when he arose, he getteth 
 him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes 
 down into the dungeon to them, and there 
 first falls to rating of them as if they were 
 dogs, although they gave him never a word 
 of distaste : then he falls upon them, and 
 beats them fearfully, in such sort that they 
 were not able to help themselves, or turn 
 them upon the floor. This done, he with- 
 draws, and leaves them there to condole their 
 misery, and to mourn under their distress : 
 so all that day they spent their time in nothing 
 but siofhs and bitter lamentations. 
 
 The next night she talked with her hus- 
 band about them further, and understanding 
 that they were yet alive, did advise him to 
 counsel them to make away with themselves. 
 So when morning was come, he goes to them 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUN VAN. 133 
 
 in a surly manner, as before, and perceiving 
 them to be very sore with the stripes that he 
 had given them the day before, he told them, 
 that since they were never like to come out 
 of that place, their only way would be forth- 
 with to make an end of themselves, either 
 with knife, halter, or poison : For why, said 
 he, should you choose life, seeing it is at- 
 tended with so much bitterness ? But they 
 desired him to let them go. With that he 
 looked ugly upon them, and rushing to them, 
 had doubtless made an end of them himself, 
 but that he fell into one of his fits (for he 
 sometimes in sunshiny weather fell into fits), 
 and lost for a time the use of his hands : 
 wherefore he withdrew, and left them, as 
 before, to consider what to do. Then did 
 the prisoners consult between themselves 
 whether it was best to take his counsel or 
 no : and thus they began to discourse : 
 
 Chr. Brother, said Christian, what shall we 
 do ? The life that we now lead is miserable. 
 For my part, I know not whether it is best 
 to live thus, or die out of hand. *' My soul 
 chooseth strangling rather than life," and the 
 grave is more easy for me than this dungeon ! 
 Shall we be ruled by the giant ? 
 
 12 
 
134 
 
 CLASS-ROOM BRILL 
 
 Hope. Indeed our present condition is 
 dreadful, and death would be far more wel- 
 come to me, than thus forever to abide ; but 
 let us -consider, the Lord of the country to 
 which we are going hath said, '' Thou shalt 
 do no murder :" no, not to any man's person ; 
 much more then are we forbidden to take his 
 counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that 
 kills another can but commit murder on his 
 body ; but for one to kill himself is to kill 
 body and soul at once. And, moreover, my 
 brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave ; 
 but hast thou forgotten the hell, whither for 
 certain the murderers . go ? For '' no mur- 
 derer hath eternal life." And let us consider, 
 again, that all laws are not in the hand of 
 Giant Despair: others, so far as I can under- 
 stand, have been taken by him as well as we, 
 and yet have escaped out of his hands. Who 
 knows but that God, who made the world, 
 may cause that Giant Despair may die ; or 
 that, at some time or other, he may forget to 
 lock us in ; or that he may in a short time 
 have another of his fits before us, and may 
 lose the use of his limbs ? and if ever that 
 should come to pass again, for my part I am 
 resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. 
 
 135 
 
 to try my utmost to get from under his hand. 
 I was a fool that I did not try to do It before ; 
 but, however, my brother, let us be patient, 
 and endure awhile : the time may come that 
 may give us a happy release ; but let us not 
 be our own murderers. With these words 
 Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of 
 his brother ; so they continued together (in 
 the dark) that day in their sad and doleful 
 condition. 
 
 Well, towards the evening, the giant goes 
 down into the dungeon again, to see if his 
 prisoners had taken his counsel; but when 
 he came there he found them alive ; and 
 truly, alive was all ; for now, what for want 
 of bread and water, and by reason of the 
 wounds they received when he beat them, 
 they could do little but breathe. But, I say, 
 he found them alive ; at which he fell into a 
 grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they 
 had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse 
 with them than if they had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, and I think 
 that Christian fell into a swoon ; but coming 
 a little to himself again, they renewed their 
 discourse about the giant's counsel, and 
 whether yet they had best take it or no. 
 
136 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 Now, Christian again seemed to be for doing 
 it ; but Hopeful made his second reply as 
 followeth : 
 
 Hope, My brother, said he, rememberest 
 thou not how valiant thou hast been hereto- 
 fore ? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor 
 could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel. 
 In the valley of the Shadow of Death : what 
 hardships, terror, and amazement, hast thou 
 already gone through, and art thou now 
 nothing but fear? Thou seest that I am in 
 the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man 
 by nature than thou art ; also this giant 
 has wounded me as well as thee, and hath 
 also cut off the bread and water from my 
 mouth, and with thee I mourn without the 
 light. But let us exercise a little more pa- 
 tience : remember how thou playedst the man 
 at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the 
 chain nor the cage, nor yet of bloody death ; 
 wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, 
 that it becomes not a Christian to be found 
 in) bear up with patience as well as we can. 
 
 Now, night being come again, and the 
 giant and his wife being abed, she asked con- 
 cerning the prisoners, and if they had taken 
 his counsel ; to which he replied. They are 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN. i^y 
 
 Sturdy rogues ; they choose rather to bear 
 all hardships than to make away with them- 
 selves. Then said she, Take them Into the 
 castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the 
 bones and skulls of those thou hast already 
 despatched, and make them believe, ere a 
 week comes to an end, thou wilt also tear 
 them in pieces, as thou hast done their 
 fellows before them. 
 
 So when the mornlnor was come, the elant 
 goes to them again, and takes them into the 
 castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had 
 bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims, 
 as you are, once : and they trespassed in my 
 grounds, as you have done : and, when I 
 thought fit, I tore them in pieces, and so 
 within ten days I will do you ; go, get ye 
 down to your den again ; and with that he 
 beat them all the way thither. 
 
 They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in 
 a lamentable case, as before. Now, when 
 night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence 
 and her husband the giant were got to bed, 
 they began to renew their discourse of their 
 prisoners ; and, withal, the old giant won- 
 dered that he could neither by his blows nor 
 counsel bring them to an end. And with 
 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 CLASS-ROOM DRILL 
 
 that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they 
 
 live in hope that some will come to relieve 
 
 them, or that they have picklocks about them, 
 
 by the means of which they hope to escape. 
 
 And sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant; 
 
 I will therefore search them in the mornine. 
 
 <_> 
 
 Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they 
 began to pray, and continued in prayer till 
 almost break of day. 
 
 Now, a little before it was day, good Chris- 
 tian, as one half amazed, brake out in this 
 passionate speech : What a fool (quoth he) 
 am I thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when 
 I may as well walk at liberty ! I have a key 
 in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am 
 persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. 
 Then said Hopeful, That's good news, good 
 brother ; pluck it out of thy bosom and try. 
 
 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, 
 and began to try at the dungeon door, whose 
 bolt (as he turned the key) gave back, and 
 the door flew open with ease, and Christian 
 and Hopeful both came out. Then he went 
 to the outer door that leads into the castle- 
 yard, and with his key opened that door also. 
 After, he went to the iron gate, for that must 
 be opened too ; but that lock went desper 
 
ON THE ENGLISH OF BUNYAN joq 
 
 ately hard, yet the key did open it. Then 
 they thrust open the gate to make their 
 escape with speed ; but that gate as it 
 opened, made such a cracking that it waked 
 Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue 
 his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail ; for his 
 fits took him again, so that he could by no 
 means go after them. Then they went on, 
 and came to the King's highway, and so were 
 safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. 
 
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 "re ^ re £ '" s "n 
 
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 (141) 
 
142 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 1. and 
 
 2. leaning + 6.^ 
 
 3. upon +5-'", , 
 
 4. their + 5. }► + 2. 
 
 5. staffs + 3- 
 
 
 1} 
 
 C. Subordinate adverbial , 
 with B. 2(111. 10). 
 
 2. to 
 
 D. Subordinate adverbial 
 with C. 3 (III. 10). 
 
 6. they + 7- 
 
 7. asked + 6. 
 
 E. Subordinate substan- I 
 tive object of B. 7 .^ 
 (111.7.(3)). 1 
 
 F. Co-ordinate copulative 
 with E (HI. 3). 
 
 G Subordinate adjective 
 with F. 5 (HI. 9). 
 
 + 3. 
 
 + 3. 
 
 3. leaft 
 
 + 2. 
 
 4. is 
 
 + s. 
 
 5. common 
 
 + 4- 
 
 6. with 
 
 + 8. 
 
 7. weary 
 
 + 8. 
 
 8. pilgrims 
 
 + 6. 
 
 I. when 
 
 + 3. 
 
 2. they 
 
 + 3. 
 
 3. stand 
 
 + 2. 
 
 4. to 
 
 + 5- 
 
 5. talk 
 
 + 4- 
 
 6. with 
 
 + 7- 
 
 7. any 
 
 + 6. 
 
 8. by 
 
 + 10. 
 
 9. the 
 
 + 10. 
 
 10. way 
 
 + 8. 
 
 + 4 + S. 
 
 ■2+3. 
 
 + 4 + 5. 
 
 + 3- 
 + 5- 
 
 + 5- 
 
 whose + 3. 
 
 Delectable + 3- 
 Mountains + 4- | j^ t 
 
 4. are 
 
 5. these 
 
 1. and 
 
 2. whose 
 
 3. be 
 
 4. the 
 
 5. sheep 
 
 1. that 
 
 2. feed 
 
 +_3: 
 
 + 4+3. 
 
 + 3- 
 
 upon 
 them 
 
 + _5: 
 
 + 3 + 2. 
 + 2. 
 
 I i;) +'• 
 
 Con. 
 A. 
 
 O. Sign. 
 A. 
 
 O. Ex. 
 O. Ex. 
 Inf. Sign 
 illogical. 
 P. 
 P. 
 P. 
 
 O. Sign. 
 A. 
 O. Ex. 
 
 O. Ex. 
 P. 
 P. 
 
 O. Sign. 
 O Ex. 
 O. Sign. 
 O. Ex. 
 O. Sign. 
 
 A. 
 
 O. Ex. 
 
 P. 
 
 P. 
 
 A. 
 
 A. 
 
 P. 
 
 P. 
 
 P. 
 
 Con. 
 
 P. 
 
 P. 
 
 A. 
 
 P. 
 P. 
 P. 
 
 O. Sign. 
 O. Ex. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 I.— SYNTAX OF SIMPLE SENTENCES. 
 
 1. A Sentence is the expression of a thought in 
 words. A simple sentence can have only one finite 
 verb. 
 
 2. A Declarative Sentence is a proposition 
 having no grammatical dependence on other sentences 
 or clauses. The proposition may be affirmative or 
 negative. 
 
 3. Interrogative Sentences are of two kinds, 
 Direct and Indirect. 
 
 A Direct Interrogative Sentence is a question 
 seeking an answer, Yes or No. 
 
 An Indirect IxNterrogative Sentence calls for a 
 specific answer. It is introduced by an interrogative 
 word, as who, which, tahere, when. 
 
 4- An Imperative Sentence; An Exclamatory 
 Sentence ; An Optative Sentence ; each kind is de- 
 fined by its name. 
 
 IL— -There are f9ur kinds of syntax, Predicative, 
 Attributive, Adverbial, and Objective. 
 
 I. A Predicative Combination is a simple sentence 
 having a grammatical subject and grammatical predi- 
 cate.* The subject may be a noun, pronoun, infinitive, 
 any word or phrase of which the verb affirms some- 
 
 * T\\Q Logical Sicbject of a sentence is the grammatical subject 
 together with any words in attributive combination with it. The 
 Logical Predicate includes the adverbial modifiers, if any, of the 
 grammatical predicate. 
 
144 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 thing. The predicate is the word or words which ex- 
 press what is affirmed of the subject. It maybe in one 
 word — any finite verb, — or in two or more — a copula- 
 tive verb {e.g. is, seems) with its following substantive, 
 adjective, participle, or adverbial phrase; as, '* He was 
 with ine.^'' 
 
 2. The Attributive Combination is illustrated by 
 the agreement of an article with a noun, — The man. 
 Articles, adjectives, participles, pronouns, and substan- 
 tives used as adjectives, or in apposition, are attributive 
 words. 
 
 3. Adverbial Combination. — Adverbs and ad- 
 verbial phrases, or nouns under government of prepo- 
 sitions, make adverbial combinations with verbs or 
 adjectives. 
 
 4. Objective Combination. — The object of a transi- 
 tive verb is said to be in objective combination with 
 the verb. 
 
 III. SYNTAX OF COMPOUND SENTENCES. ^ 
 
 Two or more simple sentences form a compound 
 sentence by Co-ordination or by Subordination. 
 
 1. When two sentences are so related to each other 
 as to form one thought, each, however, being in a 
 measure independent of the other, they are connected 
 by way of Co-ordination ; as, '* He was ill and called 
 for a physician." ^'Socrates was wise, Plato also was 
 wise." The two sentences taken together make a co- 
 ordinate compound sentence. 
 
 2. When two sentences are so related to each other 
 that the one defines and explains the otlicr, and the one 
 
APPENDIX. T A v 
 
 is dependent on the other, they are connected in the 
 way of Subordination ; as, ''He reported that the 
 king died." ''Since the spring has come the roses 
 bloom." This compound sentence is sometimes called 
 a complex sentence, to distinguish it from the com- 
 pound co-ordinate sentence. 
 
 CO-ORDINATE CLAUSES.* 
 
 3. Copulate Co-ordinate Clauses are such as are 
 connected by the copulative conjunctions or their 
 equivalents, and, as well as, also, not only, but also. 
 
 4. An Adversative Co-ordinate Clause is one 
 which expresses an opposition or contrast, but of such 
 a nature that the thought in the co-ordinate clause 
 merely limits or restrains the thought of the preceding 
 clause, or wholly denies it. "He is indeed poor^, but 
 (he is) brave." "He is not guilty, but innocent." 
 "Though He slay me, jf^/ will I trust in Him." 
 
 5. A Disjunctive Co-ordinate Clause unites in 
 one thought with the preceding clause, but expresses at 
 the same time an opposition or separation inherent in 
 the thought. It is introduced by one of tlie " disjunc- 
 tive conjunctions," either, or, neither, nor, hut, although, 
 except, lest, otherwise, than. 
 
 6. A Causal Co-ordinate Clause denotes a cause 
 or reason, an effect or inference. Because, for, the?'e- 
 fore, on that account. . 
 
 * By way of distinction between simple and compound, the 
 several simple sentences which go to form Ji compound sentence 
 will be called clauses. 
 
 G 13 
 
146 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 SUBORDINATE CLAUSES. 
 
 7. Subordinate Clauses are treated as substantives, 
 adjectives, or adverbs. 
 
 A Substantive Clause, like a noun or infinitive, 
 may be the subject, the attribute, or the object of a 
 sentence. 
 
 (i) As Subject. — That the crops will be large is 
 evident. 
 
 (2) As Fredicate. — His complaint was that yotc de- 
 ceived him. 
 
 (3) As Object. — He believes that you i/jured Iiini. 
 
 (4) In Apposition. — // is strange that you should 
 think so. 
 
 8. The word that, which is the sign of subordination 
 in the examples above, also serves to connect subordi- 
 nate clauses which express 2i purpose ; as, "I have come, 
 that I may see it with my own eyes ;^^ and also clauses 
 that express an effect or consequence; as, "The noise 
 was such that I could not hear a word." 
 
 9. Adjective Clauses, like adjectives, describe or 
 dejine substantives or substantive pronouns. They are 
 usually introduced by relative pronouns. ^ 
 
 10. Adverbial Clauses define or qualify other 
 clauses. They express relations oi Place, Time, Reason, 
 Manner. 
 
 Conditional adverbial clauses are introduced by the 
 conjunction if,ox some equivalent. "Prove that to 
 me and I shall be satisfied ;" Prove that to me = {/"you 
 prove that to me. 
 
 As the conditioning clause usually precedes the con- 
 ditioned, the former (the subordinate clause) is called 
 the Protasis, Condition, and the latter (the principal 
 clause) is called the Apodosisy Conclusion. 
 
APPENDIX B. 
 
 GRIMM'S LAW OF CONVERTIBILITY. 
 
 (from fowler's ENGLISH GRAMAL\R.) 
 
 § i6i. Every language has its own principles of 
 euphony pervading it. This is strikingly manifest in a 
 comparison of the Romanic languages with one another 
 in their departure from their common parent, the Latin. 
 Thus, the word flos in the Latin becomes fteiir in the 
 French, flor in Spanish, fiore in Italian. J. Grimm, 
 the great historical grammarian of the age, discovered 
 that in the interchange of consonants in the Teutonic 
 languages in their relation to the Sanscrit, Greek, and 
 Latin, which are here reckoned as one, and in their 
 relation to one another, there is a certain law, which, 
 from its discoverer, has been called ''Grimm's Law." 
 According to this, Moeso-Gothic, when compared with 
 the Sanscrit, Greek, and Latin, substitutes aspirates in 
 place of the primitive tenues, namely, h for k, th for /, 
 and / for p ; tenues in the place of medials, namely, / 
 for dy p for b, and k for^; lastly, medials in the place 
 of aspirates, namely, g for ch, d for th, and b for /. 
 Upper German holds the same relation to the Gothic 
 which this does to the Greek, according to the following 
 summary : 
 
 (147) 
 
148 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 SUMMARY OF THE LAW. 
 
 Labials. Linguals. Gutturals. 
 
 Greek p, b, f, t, d, th, k, g, ch. 
 
 Moeso-Gothic fj P, b, th, t, d, k, g. 
 
 O. H. German b, (v) f, p, d, z, t, g, ch, k. 
 
 Sanscrit. Greek. Latin. Mceso-Gothic. O.H.German. English. 
 
 Pada, TTOyr, pes, fotus, vuos, foot. 
 
 Pitri, TvaTT^p, pater, fadrein, vatar, father. 
 
 Tvam, TV (D), tu, thu, du, thou. 
 
 Kaphala, Ke^aXrj, caput, houbith, howpit, head. 
 
 Ganu, yovv, genu, kniu, chniu, knee. 
 
 These are only specimens of a law which obtains in 
 these languages. 
 
 LAW OF CONVERTIBILITY IN THE LATIN, 
 ENGLISH, AND GERMAN. 
 
 § 162. As the English language stands on the ground 
 of the Moeso-Gothic, and the German on the ground of 
 the ancient High German, we have the following illus- 
 trations of " Grimm's Law," from a comparison of the 
 Latin, English, and German. 
 
 1. The Latin c (=/C') becomes h (for kJi) in English 
 and German. Latin, ralamus ; English, /zalm ; Ger- 
 man, /^alm. Latin, (fannabis; English, /^emp; German, 
 /zanf. Latin, rentum ; English, /hundred ', German, 
 /zundert. 
 
 2. The Latin h (for kJi) becomes g in English and 
 German. Lat. /za^dus; Eng. ^oat; Germ. ^iss. Lat. 
 /zostis ; Eng. ^iiest ; Germ, .i^ast. 
 
 3. The Latin g becomes k or c in English and Ger- 
 man. Lat. ^na ; Eng. c/nn ; Germ. k'mn. Lat. 
 ^ranum ; Eng. <forn and Z'ernel ; Germ, ^orn and kQxn. 
 
APPENDIX. j^Q 
 
 4. The Latin / becomes th in English and d in Ger- 
 man. Lat. /onitru; Eng. ///under; Germ. <^onner. 
 Lat. /res ; Eng. //a'ee ; Germ. ^/rei. 
 
 5. The Latin or Greek th becomes d in English and 
 t in German. Gr. //zugater; Eng. <^aughter; Germ, 
 /ochter. Gr. ///er; Eng. ^eer; Germ. /hier. 
 
 6. The Latin ^/ becomes / in English and z in Ger- 
 man. Lat. (/ecem; Eng. /en; Germ. sehn. Lat. 
 ^ens; Eng. /ooth ; Germ. ;sahn. 
 
 7. The Latin / becomes f in English and /" or v in 
 German. Lat. /ater; Eng. /ather; Germ, z/ater. Gr. 
 /ente ; Eng. /"ive ; Ger. /iinf. 
 
 8. The Latin /" becomes b in English and German. 
 Lat. /agus; Eng. ^eech; Germ. ^uche. Lat. /los; 
 Eng. ^loom ; Ger. ^lume. 
 
 9. The Latin b becomes / in English and f in Ger- 
 man. Lat. cannabis; Eng. hem// Germ. haii/". 
 
 All these examples, excepting the very last, have 
 respect to the initial sound of the word, where these 
 principles exert their power freely ; but in the middle 
 or end of a word, these principles' are often affected by 
 euphonic laws, arising from the accumulation of con- 
 sonants. 
 
 Sometimes two of these changes are illustrated in the 
 same word; as, i. Lat. dau^us; Eng. hdXt. See Nos. 
 
 1 and 6. — 2. Lat. ra/ut ; Anglo-Saxon, //ea/bd. See 
 Nos. I and 7. — 3. Lat. (ranna/^is ; Eng. //em/. See 
 Nos. I and 9. — 4. Lat. //ae<f/us ; Eng. ^oa/. See Nos. 
 
 2 and 6. — 5. Eng. t\\\Yd; Germ. drittQ. See Nos. 4 
 and 5. — 6. Lat. isiud; Eng. ///a// Germ. dsis. See 
 Nos. 4 and 6. — 7. Lat. /ru^/o; Eng. ///rus/. -See Nos. 
 4 and 6. — 8. Gr. t/iQggo ; Eng. //uc/C'. See Nos. 5 and 
 
 13* 
 
150 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 3. — 9. Eng. d^tp ; Germ, /ie/! See Nos. 5 and 9. — 
 10. Eng. t'xd^; Germ. sei/. See Nos. 6 and 5. — 11. 
 Lat. /a/er; Eng. fd.t]i<tx. See Nos. 7 and 4. — 12. Lat. 
 /isrisj Eng. /is/z. See Nos. 7 and i. — 13. Lat./ran^o; 
 Eng. (^rea/^. -See Nos. 8 and 3. — 14. Lat. ^ra/er; Eng. 
 dTotJiQY. See Nos. 8 and 4. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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