'I took wise men and known and made them captains.' - Moses.
Ah, me! what a life's task set us of God it is to make us a new heart, to
cleanse out an unclean heart, to lay in the dust a proud heart, and to
keep a heart at all times, and in all places, and toward all people, with
all diligence! Who is sufficient for these things?
'Now was Christian somewhat in a maze. But at last, when every
man started back for fear, Christian saw a man of a very stout
countenance come up to him that sat there with the inkhorn to write,
saying, Set down my name, sir! At which there was a pleasant voice
heard from those that were within, even of those who walked upon
the top of that place, saying,
"Come in, come in:
Eternal glory thou shalt win."
Then Christian smiled, and said: I think, verily, that I know the
meaning of all this now.'
Chapter 17 - FIVE PICKT MEN
'I took wise men and known and made them captains.' - Moses.
John Bunyan never lost his early love for a soldier's life any more
than he ever forgot the rare delights of his bell-ringing days. John
Bunyan, all his days, never saw a bell-rope that his fingers did not
tingle, and he never saw a soldier in uniform without instinctively
shouldering his youthful musket. Bunyan was one of those rare men
who are of imagination all compact; and consequently it is that all his
books are full of the scenes, the occupations, and the experiences of
his early days. Not that he says very much, in as many words, about
what happened to him in the days when he was a soldier; it is only
once in all his many books that he says that when he was a soldier
such and such a thing happened to him. At the same time, all his books
bear the impress of his early days upon them; and as for this special
book of Bunyan's now open before us, it is full from board to board of
the strife and the din of his early battles. The Holy War is just John
Bunyan's soldierly life spiritualised - spiritualised and so worked up
into this fine English Classic.
Well, then, after Mansoul was taken and reduced, the victorious
Prince determined so to occupy the town with His soldiers that it
should never again either be taken by force from without, or ever
again revolt by weakness or by fear from within. And with this view
He chose out five of His best captains - My five pickt men, He always
called them - and placed those five captains and their thousands
under them in the strongholds of the town. On the margin of this page
our versatile author speaks of that step of Emmanuel's in the language
of a philosopher, a moralist, and a divine. 'Five graces,' he says, 'pickt
out of an abundance of common virtues.' This summing-up sentence
stands on his stiff and dry margin. But in the rich and living flow of the
text itself our author goes on writing like the man of genius he is. With
all the warmth and colour and dramatic movement of which this
whole book is full, this great writer goes on to set those five choice
captains of our salvation before us in a way that we shall never forget.
'The first was that famous captain, the noble Captain Credence.
His were the red colours, and Mr. Promise bare them. And for a
scutcheon he had the Holy Lamb and the golden shield; and he had ten
thousand men at his feet.' Now, this same Captain Credence from first
to last of the war always led the van both within and around Mansoul.
In ordinary and peaceful days; in days of truce and parley; when the
opposite armies were laid up in their winter quarters, or were, for any
cause, drawn off from one another, some of the other captains might
be more in evidence. But in every exploit to be called an exploit; in
every single enterprise of danger; when any new position was to be
taken up, or any forlorn hope was to be led, there, in the very van of
labour and of danger, was sure to be seen Captain Credence with his
blood-red colours in his own hand. You understand your Bunyan by
this time, my brethren? Captain Credence, your little boy at school will
tell you, is just the soldier-like faith of your sanctification. Credo, he
will tell you, is 'I believe'; it is to have faith in God and in the word of
God. You will borrow your Latin from your little boy, and then you will
pay him back by telling him how Captain Credence has always led the
van in your soul. You will tell him and show him what a wonderful
writer on the things of the soul John Bunyan is, till you make John
Bunyan one of your son's choicest authors for all his days. You will do
this if you will tell him how and when this same Captain Credence
with his crimson colours first led the van in your salvation. You will
tell him this with more and more depth and more and more plainness
as year after year he reads his Holy War, and better and better
understands it, till he has had it all fulfilled in himself as a pickt
captain and good soldier of Jesus Christ. You will tell him about
yourself, till, at this forlorn hope in his own life, and at that sounded
advance, in some new providence and in some new duty; in this
commanded attack on an inwardly entrenched enemy, and in that
resolute assault on some battlement of evil habit, he recollects his
noble, confiding, and loving father and plays the man again, and that
all the more if only for his father's sake. Ask your son what he knows
and what you do not know, and then as long as his heart and his ear
are open tell him what you know and what you have by faith come
through, and that will be a priceless possession to him, especially
when he is put in possession of it by you.
Well on toward the end of the war, the Captain Credence had so
acquitted himself that he was summoned one day to the Prince's
quarters, when the following colloquy ensued: 'What hath my Lord to
say to His servant?' And then, after a sign or two of favour, it was said
to him: 'I have made thee lieutenant over all the forces in Mansoul; so that, from this day forward, all men in Mansoul shall be at thy word;
and thou shalt be he that shall lead in and that shall lead out Mansoul.
And at thy command shall all the rest of the captains be.' My brethren,
you will have the whole key to all that in yourselves if this same war
has gone this length in you. Faith, your faith in God, and in the word of
God, will, as this inward war goes on, not only lead the van in your
heart and in your life, but just because your faith so leads in all things,
and is so fitted to lead in all things, it will at last be lifted up and set
over your soul, and all the things of your soul, till nothing shall be
done in any of the streets, or gates, or walls thereof that faith in God
and in His word does not first allow and admit. And then, when it has
come to that within you, that is the best mind, that is the safest, the
happiest, and the most heavenly mind that you can attain to in this
present life; and when faith shall thus lead and rule over all things in
thy soul, be thou always ready, for thy speedy translation to a still
better life is just at the door.
'The second was that famous captain, Good-hope. His were the
blue colours. His standard-bearer was Mr. Expectation, and for a
scutcheon he had three golden anchors; and he had ten thousand men
at his feet.' The time was, my brethren, when all your hopes and mine
were as yet anchored without the veil. But all that is now changed. We
still hope, in a mild kind of way, for this thing and for that in this
present life; but only in a mild kind of way. It would not be right in us
not to look forward, say, from spring-time to summer, and from
summer to harvest. If the husbandman had not hope in the former
and in the latter rain he would not sow; and as it is with the
husbandman so it is with us all: so ought it to be, and so it must be.
But we say God willing! all the time that we plot and plan and hope.
And we say God willing! no longer with a sigh, but, now, always with a
smile. In His will is our tranquillity, we say, and we know that if it is
not His will that this and that slightly anchored hope should be
fulfilled, then that only means that all our hopes, to be called hopes,
are soon to be realised. Our green and salad days in the matter of hope
are for ever past. If we had it all absolutely secured to us that this
world is still promising to its salad dupes, it would not come within a
thousand miles of satisfying our hearts. Whether the hopes of our
hearts are to be fulfilled within the veil or no, that remains to be seen; but all the things without the veil taken together do not any longer
even pretend to promise a hope to hearts like ours. Our Forerunner
has carried away our hearts with Him. We have no heart left for any
one but Him, or for anything without or within the veil that He is not
and is not in. And till that hope also has made us ashamed, - till He and
His promises have failed us like all the rest, - we are going to anchor
our hearts on that, and on that only, which we believe is with Him
within the veil. If our Forerunner also disappoints us; if we enter
where He is, only to find that He is not there; or that, though there, He
is not able to satisfy our hope in Him, and make us like Himself, then
we shall be of all men the most miserable. But not till then. No; not till
then. And thus it is that Captain Good-hope has his billet in our heart;
thus it is that his blue colours float over our house; and thus it is that
his three golden anchors are blazing out in all their beauty on the best
wall of our earthly house.
'The third was that valiant captain, the Captain Charity. His
standard-bearer was Mr. Pitiful, and for his scutcheon he had three
naked orphans embraced in his bosom; and he also had ten thousand
men at his feet.' O Charity! O valiant and pitiful Charity! Divine-
natured and heavenly-minded Charity! When wilt thou come and
dwell in my heart? When, by thine indwelling, shall I be able to love
my neighbour, and all my neighbours, as myself? When, in thy
strength, shall I cease from repining at my neighbour's good; and
when shall I cease secretly rejoicing over his evil? When shall I by thee
renewing me, be made able to cease in everything from seeking first
my own will and my own way; my own praise and my own glory?
When shall it be as much my new nature to love my neighbour as it is
now my old nature to hate him? When shall I cease to be so soon
angry, and hard, and bitter, and scornful, and unrelenting, and
unforgiving? When shall my neighbour's presence, his image, and his
name always call up only love and honour, good-will and affectionate
delight? When and where shall I, under thee, feel for the last time any
evil of any kind in my heart against my brother? Oh! to see the day
when I shall suffer long and be kind! When I shall never again vaunt
myself or be puffed up! When I shall bear all things, believe all things,
hope all things, endure all things! O blessed, blessed Charity! with thy
divine heart, with thy dove-like eyes, and with thy bosom full of pity, when wilt thou come into my sinful heart and bring all heaven in with
thee! O Charity! till thou so comest I shall wait for thee. And, till thou
comest, thy standard-bearer shall be my door porter, and thy
scutcheon shall hang night and day at my door-post!
'The fourth captain was that gallant commander, the Captain
Innocent. His standard-bearer was Mr. Harmless; his were the white
colours, and for his scutcheon he had three golden doves.' My
brethren, how well it would have been with us to-day if we had always
lived innocently! Had we only been innocent of that man's, and that
man's, and that man's, and that man's hurt! (Let us name all the men
to ourselves.) How many men have we, first and last, hurt! Some
intentionally, and some unintentionally; some deliberately, and some
only by accident; some of malice, and some only of misfortune; some
innocently and unknowingly, and whom we never properly hurt.
Some, also, by our mere existence; some by our best actions; some
because we have helped and not hurt others; and some out of nothing
else but the pure original devilry of their own evil hearts. And then,
when we take all these men home to our hearts, what hearts all these
men give us! Who, then, is the man here who has done to other men
the most hurt? Who has caused or been the occasion of most hurt? Let
that so unhappy man just think that the gallant commander, the
Captain Innocent himself, with his white colours and with his golden
doves, is standing and knocking at your evil door. O unhappy man! By
all the hurt and harm you have ever done - by all that you can never
now undo - by those spotless colours that are still snow and not yet
scarlet as they wave over you - by those three golden doves that are an
emblem of the life that still lies open before you, as well as an
invitation to you to enter on that life - why will you die of remorse and
despair? Open the door of your heart and admit Captain Innocent. He
knows that of all hurtful men on the face of the earth you are the most
hurtful, but he is not on that account afraid at you; indeed, it is on that
account that he has come so near to you. By admitting him, by
enlisting under him, by serving under him, some of the most hurtful
and injurious men that ever lived have lived after to be the most
innocent and the most harmless of men, with their hands washed
every day in innocency, and with three golden doves as the scutcheon
of their new nature and their Christian character. Oh come into my heart, Captain Innocent; there is room in my heart for thee!
'And then the fifth was that truly royal and well-beloved captain,
the Captain Patience. His standard-bearer was Mr. Suffer-long, and for
a scutcheon he had three arrows through a golden heart.' Three
arrows through a golden heart! Most eloquent, most impressive, and
most instructive of emblems! First, a heart of gold, and then that heart
of gold pierced, and pierced, and then pierced again with arrow after
arrow. Patience was the last of Emmanuel's pickt graces. Captain
Patience with his pierced heart always brought up the rear when the
army marched. But when Captain Patience and Mr. Suffer-long did
enter and take up their quarters in any house in Mansoul, - then was
there no house more safe, more protected, more peaceful, more
quietly, sweetly, divinely happy than just that house where this loyal