y a phraseology which, as they had been hearing it and using it all
their lives, they ought to have understood better. There can not be a
greater mistake than to infer, from the strong expressions in which a
devout man bemoans his exceeding sinfulness, that he has led a worse
life than his neighbors. Many excellent persons, whose moral character
from boyhood to old age has been free from any stain discernible to
their fellow-creatures, have, in their autobiographies and diaries,
applied to themselves, and doubtless with sincerity, epithets as severe
as could be applied to Titus Oates or Mrs. Brownrigg. It is quite
certain that Bunyan was, at eighteen, what, in any but the most
austerely Puritan circles, would have been considered as a young man of
singular gravity and innocence. Indeed, it may be remarked that he, like
many other penitents who, in general terms, acknowledged themselves to
have been the worst of mankind, fired up and stood vigorously on his
defense whenever any particular charge was brought against him by
others. He declares, it is true, that he had let loose the reins on the
neck of his lusts, that he had delighted in all transgressions against
the divine law, and that he had been the ringleader of the youth of
Elstow in all manner of vice. But, when those who wished him ill accused
him of licentious amours, he called on God and the angels to attest his
purity. No woman, he said, in heaven, earth, or hell could charge him
with having ever made any improper advances to her. Not only had he been
strictly faithful to his wife, but he had, even before marriage, been
perfectly spotless. It does not appear from his own confessions, or from
the railings of his enemies, that he ever was drunk in his life. One bad
habit he contracted, that of using profane language; but he tells us
that a single reproof cured him so effectually that he never offended
again. The worst that can be laid to the charge of this poor youth, whom
it has been the fashion to represent as the most desperate of
reprobates, as a village Rochester, is that he had a great liking for
some diversions, quite harmless in themselves, but condemned by the
rigid precisians among whom he lived, and for whose opinion he had a
great respect. The four chief sins of which he was guilty were dancing,
ringing the bells of the parish church, playing at tip-cat, and reading
the "History of Sir Bevis of Southampton." A rector of the school of
Laud would have hel