he person of Evangelist.

John Gifford had himself made a narrow escape out of the City of
Destruction, and John Bunyan had, by Gifford's assistance, made the same
escape also. The scene, therefore, both within that city and outside the
gate of it, was so fixed in Bunyan's mind and memory that no part of his
memorable book is more memorably put than just its opening page. Bunyan
himself is the man in rags, and Gifford is the evangelist who comes to
console and to conduct him. Bunyan's portraits are all taken from the
life. Brilliant and well-furnished as Bunyan's imagination was, Bedford
was still better furnished with all kinds of men and women, and with all
kinds of saints and sinners. And thus, instead of drawing upon his
imagination in writing his books, Bunyan drew from life. And thus it is
that we see first John Gifford, and then John Bunyan himself at the gate
of the city; and then, over the page, Gifford becomes the evangelist who
is sent by the four poor women to speak to the awakened tinker.

'Wherefore dost thou so cry?' asks Evangelist. 'Because,' replied the
man, 'I am condemned to die.' 'But why are you so unwilling to die,
since this life is so full of evils?' And I suppose we must all hear
Evangelist putting the same pungent question to ourselves every day, at
whatever point of the celestial journey we at present are. Yes; why are
we all so unwilling to die? Why do we number our days to put off our
death to the last possible period? Why do we so refuse to think of the
only thing we are sure soon to come to? We are absolutely sure of
nothing else in the future but death. We may not see to-morrow, but we
shall certainly see the day of our death. And yet we have all our plans
laid for to-morrow, and only one here and one there has any plan laid for
the day of his death. And can it be for the same reason that made the
man in rags unwilling to die? Is it because of the burden on our back?
Is it because we are not fit to go to judgment? And yet the trumpet may
sound summoning us hence before the midnight clock strikes. If this be
thy condition, why standest thou still? Dost thou see yonder shining
light? Keep that light in thine eye. Go up straight to it, knock at the
gate, and it shall be told thee there what thou shalt do next. Burdened
sinner, son of man in rags and terror: What has burdened thee so? What
has torn thy garments into such shameful rags? What is it in thy burden
that m