The conquerors
marched to Leicester, which surrendered by capitulation. Heath, in his
Chronicle, asserts that 'no life was lost at the retaking of Leicester.' Many
of Bunyan's sayings and proverbs are strongly tinged with the spirit of
Rupert's dragoons—'as we say, blood up to the ears.' 'What can be the meaning
of this (trumpeters), they neither sound boot and saddle, nor horse and away,
nor a charge?' In his allegories when he alludes to fighting, it is with the
sword and not with the musket; 'rub up man, put on thy harness.' 'The father's
sword in the hand of the sucking child is not able to conquer a foe.'
Considering his
singular loyalty, which, during the French Revolution, was exhibited as a
pattern to Dissenters by an eminent Baptist minister; considering also his profligate character and
military sayings, it is very probable that Bunyan was in the king's army in
1645, being about seventeen years of age. It was a finishing school to the
hardened sinner, which enabled him, in his account of the Holy War, so well to
describe every filthy lane and dirty street in the town of Mansoul.
Whether Bunyan left
the army when Charles was routed at the battle of Naseby or was discharged, is
not known. He returned to his native town full of military ideas, which he used
to advantage in his Holy War. He was not reformed, but hardened in sin, and,
although at times alarmed with convictions of the danger of his soul, in
the end, the flesh pleading powerfully, it prevailed; and he made a resolution
to indulge himself in such carnal delights and pleasures as he was accustomed
to, or that fell in his way. 'His neglecting his business, and following gaming
and sports, to put melancholy thoughts out of his mind, which he could not
always do, had rendered him very poor and despicable.'
In this forlorn and miserable state, he was induced, by the persuasion of friends, under the invisible guidance of God, to enter into the marriage state. Such a youth, then only twenty years of age, would naturally be expected to marry some young woman as hardened as himself, but he made a very different choice. His earliest biographer says, with singular simplicity, 'his poverty, and irregular course of life, made it very difficult for him to get a wife suitable to his inclination; and because none that were rich would yield to his allurements, he found himself constrained to marry one without any fortune, though very virtuous, loving, and conformably obedient and obliging, being born of good, honest, godly parents, who had instructed her, as well as they were able, in the ways of truth and saving knowledge.' The idea of his seeking a rich wife is sufficiently droll; he must have been naturally a persuasive lover, to have gained so good a helpmate.
They were not troubled with sending cards, cake, or gloves, nor with the ceremony of receiving the visits of their friends in state; for he says, that 'This woman and I came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or spoon betwixt us both.' His wife had two books, The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, and The Practice of Piety; but what was of more importance than wealth or household stuff, she had that seed sown in her heart which no thief could steal. She enticed and persuaded him to read those books. To do this he by application 'again recovered his reading, which he had almost lost.' His wife became an unspeakable blessing to him. She presents a pattern to any woman, who, having neglected the apostolic injunction not to be unequally yoked, finds herself under the dominion of a swearing daredevil.
It affords a lovely proof of the
insinuating benign favour of female influence. This was the more surprising, as
he says, 'the thoughts of religion were very grievous to me,' and when 'books
that concerned Christian piety were read in my hearing, it was as it were a
prison to me.' In spite of all obstacles, his rugged heart was softened by her
tenderness and obedience, he 'keeping on the old course,' she upon every proper
season teaching him how her father's piety secured his own and his family's
happiness. Here was no upbraiding, no snubbing, no curtain lectures; all was
affectionate, amiable mildness. At first, he became occasionally alarmed for
his soul's salvation; then with the thought of having sinned away the day of
grace, he plunged again into sin with greediness; anon a faint hope of mercy
would fill him with fear and trembling. But this leads us to the wondrous
narrative of his new birth.
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