beauty of his book, to be considered as a faithful representation of the

cottage at Elstow.* We give it as it really is from the pencil of Mr. Fairholt.

It was a day of mingled sunshine and showers when we arrived at Bedford, and after crossing the new bridge, which has been erected on the site of the old one, where Bunyan passed a portion of his captivity, we drove to the village rendered celebrated as his birthplace. We first paused at the green,' still the play-stow' or play-place of the village children; when we pushed back the gate and entered, we stood on the selfsame green' where Bunyan stood more than two centuries ago, when

he sought to disperse, by the wild

ness of a game at 'cat,'t the conviction of the evil of sabbath-breaking, which had struck upon his heart from a sermon, preached within the church, looking so gray and weather-worn amid those venerable trees; here he was

(Bedford) jail, to investigate aud model the prisons of Europe, and was most liberally supported in carrying out his glorious projects by Mr. Whitbread, whose descendants possess considerable property in the neighbourhood.

*The old edition of his works, as first published by Charles Doe, thus quaintly narrates his early history: Our Excellent Author, by the Abundant grace of God, Mr. John Bunyan, was born at Elsto, a mile side of Bedford, about the year 1628, (his father was mean, and by trade a mender of pots and kettles, vulgarly called a Tinker, and of the national religion, as commonly men of that trade are) and was brought up to the Tinkering trade, as also were several of his brothers, whereat he worked about that country, being also very profane and poor, even when married,' &c.

+ Cat, or tip-cat, is a game still played by children. The cat being a piece of wood tapering from the centre like a double cone; so that the blow struck at either end occasions 'the cat to fly upwards with considerable force; the impetus given to which denotes the ability of he player, as well as his dexterity in hitting it again in its ascent.

arrested in the midst of that game, under the peculiar circumstances which he describes in his Grace Abounding;' from this well-worn and time-beaten sward, which joins the church-yard, is the best view of the steeple-house,' or church tower, which is detached from the church, and in which Bunyan, even after his marriage, assisted the ringers, until his conscience beginning to get "tender," he thought such a practice was but vain, and therefore forced himself to leave it.' We wandered into the church avenue, and leaning against the worn buttresses of the tower, looked upwards to where hung the identical bells, which Bunyan feared might fall upon him in judgment for his sins; the church must at one time have been of monastic extent, and two hundred years ago, exhibited more of the remains of catholicity than appear at present.

We thought of the time when Bunyan first began to worship earnestly within those walls, before the commencement of his hatred of prelacy, and when his great heart expanded towards every particle, even of the dress worn by the officiating clergyman; in this church beginning his devotional existence, where, after his marriage with a woman whose only portion was two books-of which we shall speak hereafter-bis earnest enthusiasm adored, to use his own language, 'all things, both in the high place, priest, clerk, vestments, service, and what else belonged to the church, counting all things holy that were therein contained, and especially the priest and clerk, most happy, and therein greatly blessed.' And, certainly,' says an un-named writer, who honours the locality where Bunyan transferred his overwhelming energy and burly activity into his master's vineyard, 'certainly the spirit of the place might well work on a mind unenlightened and imaginative as was that of the glorious dreamer of Elstow. The building is large and lofty, hallowed by antiquity, and well calculated to interest and impress the romantic spirit of a young rustic. The door-way is a fine specimen of the round Norman arch, and above it is a rude representation of our Saviour's charge to St. Peter; and the body of the church contains two large brasses, commemorating a former Abbess of Elstow,* and another female, who probably filled the same office.' When we came out of the

* Here, in the old time, was an Abbey of Benedictine Nuns, founded by Judith, niece to William the Conqueror, and wife to Waltheof, Earl of Huntingdon. It was dedicated to the Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary, and Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great. At the

church the rooks were flying low, and cawing loudly, and the dark heavy clouds, separated at intervals by streaks of light, told of the coming shower; but though, as in sacred duty bound to do, we had given our first attention to the temple, where so important a change had been wrought in Bunyan's mind, we desired to return to the green' and see how time had dealt with the Green-house,' while we recalled to mind the passages in Bunyan's life recording how his life was spent in the self-same spot, when the trees were striplings that now are tending towards decay.

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Doubtless, the remnant of the cross, which might not in his early days have been converted into a stand for a sun-dial, excited his indignation, after he became a rigid nonconformist; it is now but the wreck of both, and tells neither of faith nor time. Nearer to the village is the Green-house,' or house upon the green, a large substantial building, now used as a rural school; its massive timbers, its low pointed door-way, and its antique character, prove that it is far older than the days of Bunyan; it might have been one of the barns or milkhouses, or stables, in which the good old Bedford Puritan wept and prayed; he asks of his spiritual children, in his introduction to Grace Abounding,' Have you forgot the close, the milk-house, the stable, the barn, where God did visit your souls?' After a few drops of large full rain, during which we ascended the creaking stairs, and passed through the low-ceiled rooms, the clouds

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rolled away, and the rich mellow sunset faded into the soft grey light of

Dissolution, its revenues were valued at 2847. 12s. 11d. The Brass mentioned above, to the memory of Elizabeth Harvey, Abbess of Elstow, (temp. Henry VII.) is remarkable as being the only representation extant of an Anglican Abbess in pontificalibus.

evening. We could imagine the village boys roystering upon the green, and indulging in words of riot which, in after times, the excited and over-wrought imagination of the sensitive Puritan exaggerated into terrible sin. We agree with the poet Southey in his opinion that the heart of the 'glorious dreamer' was never hardened; the self-accusations of such a man are to be received with some distrust, not of his sincerity, but of his sober judgment.' It would seem that he ran headlong into the boisterous vices which prove fatal to so many of the ignorant for want of that necessary and wholesome discipline which it is the duty of government to provide; but he was not led into those sins which infix a deeper stain.

Pious enthusiasts are just as prone in our own day to self-condemnation as was John Bunyan; they plough up their hearts, if we may so express it, and discover sins which the world could never suspect but for their own admission; as long as this self-knowledge causes a deep and earnest watchfulness over themselves, and renders them charitable, it is in all respects a most merciful dispensation; sometimes it is so uncharitable to its fellow-sinners, that it seems to us a species of self-glory-a satanic preeminence which fosters pride. Bunyan's great and early sins were sabbathbreaking and swearing, perverting the power of speech-the happiest gift of God-to blasphemy instead of blessing; his strong emotions sought the relief of words, and imprecations continually burst forth until he was brought by divine grace to see the wickedness of sabbath-breaking and evil speaking. Frequently in his boyish life he had some remarkable escape: and his grateful nature could not but recall how, when he forced open the adder's mouth to extract the poison, he received no wound; his affections were all right, and towards his wife he was not only loving, but permitted her to read to, and reason with him, so that he was not so utterly degraded as many would have it, as if to make the shining light of his conversion the more brilliant and marvellous.

He was but nineteen when he married, and if there was no prudence, so called, in a marriage even without humble means, there was in the woman the wisdom which leadeth to salvation.

But we must on, upon our Pilgrimage, leaving the village, after taking our last look at the

6

the green 'to walk through

ancient' house where the

'glorious dreamer' may both have rioted and prayed. We could not but

observe, how beautifully and tenderly, the light caught up various portions of the trees, darting its beams amid their depths, and leaving much in obscurity then flinging long spectral shadows on the grass, and imparting a strange unearthly character by its flitting' to the old church tower, which just at the moment tolled out eight in its deep sepulchral voice. Before the chime was finished, the whole character of the place was changed; the flitting light was concentrated into a halo round the grim, grey tower of the venerable pile. There are few traits in the character of Bunyan more engaging than his exquisite relish for the works of Nature; he loved to meet God in the loveliness of his own world, and many times had walked the path on which we trod, perchance, after his spirit had been refreshed and strengthened by a sense of the wondrous beauty and harmony of Nature, and passed from that to the contemplation of the power of Christ's atonement. Those who are read in the outpourings of his heart will remember how, when he had struggled through the Slough of Despond and escaped the chains of Doubting City, after hearing one comforting sermon, he exclaims, 'I could not tell how to contain myself till I got home, I thought I could have spoken of HIS love, and have told of HIS mercy towards me, even to the very crows that sat upon the ploughed lands before me, had they been capable to have understood me!'

Although the shadows of evening were drawing in more closely, the women were still plying their busy bobbins over their lace cushions, as they sate at their cottage doors; the village is as rambling and as picturesque as a village can be, that has no back-ground; although the cottages must have been nearly all rebuilt since Bunyan's time, some are even now so old as to need repair to prevent their falling to decay ;-thus the associations between past and present are astonishingly close, and contribute much to the actual feeling that this is really the Elstow of Bunyan's time.

We must pause at the threshold of his cottage, for though no vestige remains of the actual walls that heard his infant wail when he entered into this world of strife and tumult, yet the site, and materials, are undoubtedly the same; for no builder of modern cottages would have bestowed such massive beams on such a structure.

A group of women arose from their lace pillows that we might enter the once dwelling of him who, according to an old chronicle, was one of the