The Holy War, Made by King Shaddai Upon Diabolus, for the Regaining of the Metropolis of the World; Or, The Losing and Taking Again of the Town of Mansoul. John Bunyan

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The Holy War, Made by King Shaddai Upon Diabolus, for the Regaining of the Metropolis of the World; Or, The Losing and Taking Again of the Town of Mansoul - John Bunyan


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      The Holy War, Made by King Shaddai Upon Diabolus, for the Regaining of the Metropolis of the World; Or, The Losing and Taking Again of the Town of Mansoul

      PREFACE

      In the year 1682 there was published by Dorman Newman, ‘at the King’s Arms in the Poultry,’ and Benjamin Alsop, ‘at the Angel and Bible in the Poultry,’ a volume entitledThe Holy War, made by Shaddai upon Diabolus for the regaining of the Metropolis of the World; or the Losing and Taking again of the Town of Mansoul.’  It was the work of John Bunyan, who, sixteen years before, had published the story of his own spiritual struggle under the title ofGrace abounding to the Chief of Sinners’;and, but four years before, had producedThe Pilgrim’s Progress’ (Part I).  Bunyan had speedily followed the issue of thePilgrim’s Progresswith theLife and Death of Mr. Badman,’picture of English life and character as he had seen it, grimly faithful to factInThe Holy WarBunyan returned to allegoryAs a piece of literature the book is in no way inferior to thePilgrim’s Progress.’  If Bunyan had written nothing else, ‘The Holy Warwould have sufficed to establish his claim to a place amongst the masters of English proseAs an appeal to the conscience it is not a whit less effective than thePilgrim’s Progress’; but in the power of seizing and retaining the reader’s attention it is scarcely so successfulNevertheless Macaulay held thatif there had been noPilgrim’s Progress” “The Holy Warwould have been the first of religious allegories.’

      In working out the details ofThe Holy WarBunyan seems to have kept in mind his own experienceThe fortifications of the city, the movements of the opposing forces, the changes in the municipal offices of Mansoul were reproductions of scenes and events that had but recently gone on under Bunyan’s eyesHe adapted them with extraordinary success to the presentation both of the doctrines of grace and of the temptations which attend the Christian lifeThe characters and the incidents are, in effect, the characters and incidents of every ageIt is this which gives to the story of Mansoul its undying freshness, and suits it to the needs of men in all climes.  ‘The Holy Warhas been translated into many languages, including some of those with the scantiest of literatureIndeed, as this edition is being prepared for the press, assistance is being rendered by the Religious Tract Society in the printing ofThe Holy Warin Kongo.

A. R. BUCKLAND.

      TO THE READER

         ’Tis strange to me, that they that love to tell

      Things done of old, yea, and that do excel

      Their equals in historiology,

      Speak not of Mansoul’s wars, but let them lie

      Dead, like old fables, or such worthless things,

      That to the reader no advantage brings:

      When men, let them make what they will their own,

      Till they know this, are to themselves unknown.

         Of stories, I well know, there’s divers sorts,

      Some foreign, some domestic; and reports

      Are thereof made as fancy leads the writers:

      (By books a man may guess at the inditers.)

      Some will again of that which never was,

      Nor will be, feign (and that without a cause)

      Such matter, raise such mountains, tell such things

      Of men, of laws, of countries, and of kings;

      And in their story seem to be so sage,

      And with such gravity clothe every page,

      That though their frontispiece says all is vain,

      Yet to their way disciples they obtain.

         But, readers, I have somewhat else to do,

      Than with vain stories thus to trouble you.

      What here I say, some men do know so well,

      They can with tears and joy the story tell.

         The town of Mansoul is well known to many,

      Nor are her troubles doubted of by any

      That are acquainted with those Histories

      That Mansoul and her wars anatomize.

         Then lend thine ear to what I do relate,

      Touching the town of Mansoul and her state:

      How she was lost, took captive, made a slave:

      And how against him set, that should her save;

      Yea, how by hostile ways she did oppose

      Her Lord, and with his enemy did close.

      For they are true: he that will them deny

      Must needs the best of records vilify.

      For my part, I myself was in the town,

      Both when ’twas set up, and when pulling down.

      I saw Diabolus in his possession,

      And Mansoul also under his oppression.

      Yea, I was there when she own’d him for lord,

      And to him did submit with one accord.

         When Mansoul trampled upon things divine,

      And wallowed in filth as doth a swine;

      When she betook herself unto her arms,

      Fought her Emmanuel, despis’d his charms;

      Then I was there, and did rejoice to see

      Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.

         Let no men, then, count me a fable-maker,

      Nor make my name or credit a partaker

      Of their derision: what is here in view,

      Of mine own knowledge, I dare say is true.

         I saw the Prince’s armed men come down

      By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town;

      I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound,

      And how his forces covered all the ground.

      Yea, how they set themselves in battle-’ray,

      I shall remember to my dying day.

         I saw the colours waving in the wind,

      And they within to mischief how combin’d

      To ruin Mansoul, and to make away

      Her primum mobile without delay.

         I saw the mounts cast up against the town,

      And how the slings were placed to beat it down:

      I heard the stones fly whizzing by mine ears,

      (What longer kept in mind than got in fears?)

      I heard them fall, and saw what work they made.

      And how old Mors did cover with his shade

      The face of Mansoul; and I heard her cry,

      ‘Woe worth the day, in dying I shall die!’

         I saw the battering-rams, and how they play’d

      To beat open Ear-gate; and I was afraid

      Not only Ear-gate, but the very town

      Would by those battering-rams be beaten down.

      I saw the fights, and heard the captains shout,

      And in each battle saw who faced about;

      I saw who wounded were, and who were slain;

      And who, when dead, would come to


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