ring
those evil days, Bunyan was forced to disguise himself as a wagoner, and
that he preached to his congregation at Bedford in a smock-frock, with a
cart-whip in his hand. But soon a great change took place. James II. was at
open war with the church, and found it necessary to court the dissenters.
Some of the creatures of the government tried to secure the aid of Bunyan.
They probably knew that he had written in praise of the indulgence of 1672,
and therefore hoped that he might be equally pleased with the indulgence of
1687. But fifteen years of thought, observation and commerce with the world
had made him wiser. Nor were the cases exactly parallel. Charles was a
professed Protestant; James was a professed Papist. The object of Charles's
indulgence was disguised; the object of James's indulgence was patent.
Bunyan was not deceived. He exhorted his hearers to prepare themselves by
fasting and prayer for the danger which menaced their civil and religious
liberties, and refused even to speak to the courtier who came down to
remodel the corporation of Bedford, and who, as was supposed, had it in
charge to offer some municipal dignity to the bishop of the Baptists.

Bunyan did not live to see the Revolution.[8] In the summer of 1688 he
undertook to plead the cause of a son with an angry father, and at length
prevailed on the old man not to disinherit the young one. This good work
cost the benevolent intercessor his life. He had to ride through heavy
rain. He came drenched to his lodgings on Snow Hill, was seized with a
violent fever, and died in a few days (August 31). He was buried in Bunhill
Fields; and many Puritans, to whom the respect paid by Roman Catholics to
the reliques and tombs of saints seemed childish or sinful, are said to
have begged with their dying breath that their coffins might be placed as
near as possible to the coffin of the author of the _Pilgrim's Progress_.

The fame of Bunyan during his life, and during the century which followed
his death, was indeed great, but was almost entirely confined to religious
families of the middle and lower classes. Very seldom was he during that
time mentioned with respect by any writer of great literary eminence. Young
coupled his prose with the poetry of the wretched D'Urfey. In the
_Spiritual Quixote_, the adventures of Christian are ranked with those of
Jack the Giant-Killer and John Hickathrift. Cowper ventured to praise the
great allegorist, but did not venture