MANSOUL HELD BY THE DOUBTERS.

Now a man might have walked for days together in Mansoul, and scarce have seen one in the town that looked like a religious man. O the fearful state of Mansoul now! Now every corner swarmed with outlandish Doubters; red-coats and black-coats walked the town by clusters, and filled up all the houses with hideous noises, vain songs, lying stories, and blasphemous language against Shaddai and his Son. Now, also, those Diabolonians that lurked in the walls and dens and holes that were in the town of Mansoul, came forth and showed themselves, yea, walked with open face in company with the Doubters that were in Mansoul. Yea, they had more boldness now to walk the streets, to haunt the houses, and to show themselves abroad, than had any of the honest inhabitants of the now woful town of Mansoul.

But Diabolus and his outlandish men were not at peace in Mansoul, for they were not there entertained as were the captains and forces of Emmanuel; the townsmen did browbeat them what they could; nor did they partake or make stroy of any of the necessaries of Mansoul, but that which they seized on against the townsmen's will; what they could they hid from them, and what they could not they had with an ill-will. They, poor hearts, had rather have had their room than their company, but they were at present their captives, and their captives for the present they were forced to be. But, I say, they discountenanced them as much as they were able, and showed them all the dislike that they could.

The captains also from the castle did hold them in continual play with their slings, to the chasing and fretting of the minds of the enemies. True, Diabolus made a great many attempts to have broken open the gates of the castle, but Mr. Godly-fear was made the keeper of that; and he was a man of that courage, conduct and valour, that it was in vain, as long as life lasted within him, to think to do that work though mostly desired, wherefore all the attempts that Diabolus made against him were

fruitless. I have wished sometimes that that man had had the whole rule of the town of Mansoul.

Well, this was the condition of the town of Mansoul for about two years and an half; the body of the town was the seat of war; the people of the town were driven into holes, and the glory of Mansoul was laid in the dust; what rest then could be to the inhabitants, what peace could Mansoul have, and what sun could shine upon it? had the enemy lain so long without in the plain against the town, it had been enough to have famished them; but now when they shall be within, when the town shall be their tent, their trench, and fort against the castle that was in the town, when the town shall be against the town, and shall serve to be a defence to the enemies of her strength and life: I say, when they shall make use of the forts, and town-holds, to secure themselves in, even till they shall take, spoil, and demolish the castle, this was terrible; and yet this was now the state of the town of Mansoul.

The Holy War.

THE SCIENCE OF BREAKING.

Wise. I will tell you; it was this, he had an art to break, and get hatfuls of money by breaking.

Atten. But what do you mean by Mr. Badman's breaking? You speak mystically, do you not?

Wise. No, no, I speak plainly. Or, if you will have it in plainer language, it is this ;-when Mr. Badman had swaggered and whored away most of his wife's portion, he began to feel that he could not much longer stand upon his legs in this course of life and keep up his trade and repute-such as he had--in the world, but by the new engine of breaking. Wherefore upon a time he gives a great and sudden rush into several men's debts, to the value of about four or five thousand pounds, driving at the same time a very great trade, by selling many things for less than they cost him, to get him custom, therewith to blind his creditor's eyes. His creditors therefore seeing that he had a great employ, and dreaming that it must needs at

length turn to a very good account to them, trusted him freely without mistrust, and so did others too, to the value of what was mentioned before. Well, when Mr. Badman had well feathered his nest with other men's goods and money, after a little time he breaks, and by and by it was noised abroad that Mr. Badman had shut up shop, was gone, and could trade no longer. Now by that time his breaking was come to his creditors' ears, he had by craft and knavery made so sure of what he had, that his creditors could not touch a penny. Well, when he had done, he sends his mournful sugared letters to his creditors, to let them understand what had happened unto him, and desired them not to be severe with him, for he bore towards all men an honest mind, and would pay so far as he was able. Now he sends his letters by a man confederate with him, who could make both the worst and best of Mr. Badman's case; the best for Mr. Badman and the worst for his creditors. So when he comes to them he both bemoans them and condoles Mr. Badman's condition, telling of them that, without a speedy bringing of things to a conclusion, Mr. Badman would be able to make them no satisfaction, but at present he both could and would, and that to the utmost of his power, and to that end he desired that they would come over to him. Well, his creditors appoint him a time and come over, and he, meanwhile, authorizes another to treat with them, but will not be seen himself, unless it was on a Sunday, lest they should snap him with a writ. So his deputed friend treats with them about their concern with Mr. Badman, first telling them of the great care that Mr. Badman took to satisfy them and all men for whatsoever he owed, as far as in him lay, and how little he thought a while since to be in this low condition. He pleaded also the greatness of his charge, the greatness of taxes, the badness of the times, and the great losses that he had by many of his customers; some of which died in his debt, others were run away, and for many that were alive he never expected a farthing from them. Yet nevertheless he would show himself an honest man, and would pay as far as he was able; and if they were willing to come to terms, he would make a composition with them, for he was not able to pay them all. The creditors asked what he would give? It was

replied, Half-a-crown in the pound. At this they began to huff, and he to renew his complaint and entreaty, but the creditors would not hear, and so for that time their meeting without success broke up. But after his creditors were in cool blood, and admitting of second thoughts, and fearing lest delays should make them lose all, they admit of a second debate, come together again, and, by many words and great ado, they obtained five shillings in the pound. So the money was produced, releases and discharges drawn, signed, and sealed, books crossed, and all things confirmed; and then Mr. Badman can put his head out a-doors again, and be a better man than when he shut up shop, by several thousands of pounds.

The Life and Death of Mr. Badman.

P. 88, 1. 28. Starved. Probably in the sense of "perished with cold," not with hunger. See 1. 22.

P. 90, 1. 2. Tracing = "quartering the ground backwards, forwards, and sideways." So frequently in Malory when he describes fights.

P. 91, 1. 4. Red-coats and black-coats. It is worth noting, though of course not conclusive, on the question of the side Bunyan took in the Civil War, that red was chiefly a Parliamentary uniform colour.

P. 91, L. 18. Stroy = "destroy," though it does not seem to be used elsewhere as a noun. Timid editors changed it early into “destruction."

P. 91, l. 33.

P. 94, l. 9.

Mostly "most."

Books crossed, i.e., accounts crossed off, cancelled.

MY

SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE.

Sir William Temple was born in London in 1628, and died at Moor Park, Surrey, in 1699. The epithet of "genteel" which has stuck to his style is unfortunate, because the adjective has perpetually sunk in value, till it has become, at least in educated mouths and pens, definitely satirical. In its proper sense of refinement combined with urbanity, and dignity associated with grace, it is applicable enough.

THE ENGLISH CLIMATE.

Y orange-trees are as large as any I saw, when I was young, in France, except those of Fontainebleau, or what I have seen since in the Low Countries, except some very old ones of the prince of Orange's; as laden with flowers as any can well be, as full of fruit as I suffer or desire them, and as well tasted as are commonly brought over, except the best sorts of Seville and Portugal. And thus much I could not but say in defence of our climate, which is so much and so generally decried abroad by those who never saw it; or, if they have been here, have yet perhaps seen no more of it than what belongs to inns, or to taverns and ordinaries; who accuse our country for their own defaults, and speak ill, not only of our gardens and houses, but of our humours, our breeding, our customs and manners of life, by what they have observed of the meaner and baser sort of mankind; and of company among us, because they wanted themselves, perhaps, either fortune or birth, either quality or merit, to introduce them among the good.

I must needs add one thing more in favour of our climate, which I heard the king say, and I thought new and right, and