oo, fond of
those great mercies, but also because I should have often brought to
my mind the hardships, miseries, and wants my poor family was like to
meet with should I be taken from them, especially my poor blind child,
who lay nearer my heart than all I had besides. Poor child, thought I,
what sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world! Thou
must be beaten, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand
calamities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow on thee.
But yet, thought I, I must venture all with God, though it goeth to
the quick to leave you. I was as a man who was pulling down his house
upon the head of his wife and children. Yet thought I, I must do it--I
must do it. I had this for consideration, that if I should now venture
all for God, I engaged God to take care of my concernments. Also I had
dread of the torments of hell, which I was sure they must partake of
that for fear of the cross do shrink from their profession. I had this
much upon my spirit, that my imprisonment might end in the gallows for
aught I could tell. In the condition I now was in I was not fit to
die, nor indeed did I think I could if I should be called to it. I
feared I might show a weak heart, and give occasion to the enemy. This
lay with great trouble on me, for methought I was ashamed to die with
a pale face and tottering knees for such a cause as this. The things
of God were kept out of my sight. The tempter followed me with, "But
whither must you go when you die? What will become of you? What
evidence have you for heaven and glory, and an inheritance among them
that are sanctified?" Thus was I tossed many weeks; but I felt it was
for the Word and way of God that I was in this condition. God might
give me comfort or not as He pleased. I was bound, but He was
free--yea, it was my duty to stand to His Word, whether He would ever
look upon me or no, or save me at the last. Wherefore, thought I, the
point being thus, I am for going on and venturing my eternal state
with Christ, whether I have comfort here or no. If God does not come
in, thought I, I will leap off the ladder even blindfold into
eternity, sink or swim, come heaven, come hell. Now was my heart full
of comfort.'

The ladder was an imaginary ladder, but the resolution was a genuine
manly one, such as lies at the bottom of all brave and honourable
action. Others who have thought very differently from Bunyan about
such matters have felt the same as