“This,” said Keeling, “I tell you plainly.”  Bunyan’s reply that “as to that matter he was at a point with the judge,” for “that he would repeat the offence the first time he could,” provoked a rejoinder from one of the bench, and the unseemly wrangling might have been still further prolonged, had it not been stopped by the gaoler, who “pulling him away to be gone,” had him back to prison, where he says, and “blesses the Lord Jesus Christ for it,” his heart was as “sweetly refreshed” in returning to it as it had “been during his examination.  So that I find Christ’s words more than bare trifles, where He saith, He will give a mouth and wisdom, even such as all the adversaries shall not gainsay or resist.  And that His peace no man can take from us.”

The magistrates, however, though not unnaturally irritated by what seemed to them Bunyan’s unreasonable obstinacy, were not desirous to push matters to extremity.  The three months named in his sentence, at the expiration of which he was either to conform or be banished the realm, were fast drawing to an end, without any sign of submission on his part.  As a last resort Mr. Cobb, the Clerk of the Peace, was sent to try what calm and friendly reasoning might effect.  Cobb, who evidently knew Bunyan personally, did his best, as a kind-hearted, sensible man, to bring him to reason.  Cobb did not profess to be “a man that could dispute,” and Bunyan had the better of him in argument.  His position, however, was unassailable.  The recent insurrection of Venner and his Fifth Monarchy men, he said, had shown the danger to the public peace there was in allowing fanatical gatherings to assemble unchecked.  Bunyan, whose loyalty was unquestioned, must acknowledge the prudence of suppressing meetings which, however good their ostensible aim, might issue in nothing less than the ruin of the kingdom and commonwealth.  Bunyan had confessed his readiness to obey the apostolic precept by submitting himself to the king as supreme.  The king forbade the holding of private meetings, which, under colour of religion, might be prejudicial to the State.  Why then did he not submit?  This need not hinder him from doing good in a neighbourly way.  He might continue to use his gifts and exhort his neighbours in private discourse, provided he did not bring people together in public assemblies.  The law did not abridge him of this liberty.  Why should he stand so strictly on public meetings?  Or why should he not come to church and hear?  Was his gift so far above that of others that he could learn of no one?  If he could not be persuaded, the judges were resolved to prosecute the law against him.  He would be sent away beyond the seas to Spain or Constantinople—­either Cobb’s or Bunyan’s colonial geography was rather at fault here—­or some other remote part of the world, and what good could he do to his friends then?  “Neighbour Bunyan” had better consider these things seriously before the Quarter