Life and Death of Mr. Badman - John Bunyan (free e novels .TXT) 📗

this reading of Scriptures, and hearing, and repeating of Sermons: he could not abide to be told of his transgressions in a sober and Godly manner.

Atten. There is a great deal in the Manner of reproof, wicked men both can, and cannot abide to hear their transgressions spoken against.

Wise. There is a great deal of difference indeed. This last Master of Mr. Badmans, would tell Mr. Badman of his sins in Mr. Badmans own dialect; he would swear, and curse, and damn, when he told him of his sins, and this he could bear better, {65b} than to be told of them after a godly sort. Besides, that last Master would, when his passions and rage was over, laugh at and make merry with the sins of his servant Badman: And that would please young Badman well. Nothing offended Badman but blows, and those he had but few of now, because he was pretty well grown up. For the most part when his Master did rage and swear, he would give him Oath for Oath, and Curse for Curse, at least secretly, let him go on as long as he would.

Atten. This was hellish living.

Wise. ‘Twas hellish living indeed: And a man might say, that with this Master, young Badman compleated himself {65c} yet more and more in wickedness, as well as in his trade: for by that he came out of his time, what with his own inclination to sin, what with his acquaintance with his three companions, and what with this last Master, and the wickedness he saw in him; he became a sinner in grain. I think he had a Bastard laid to his charge before he came out of his time.

Atten. Well, but it seems he did live to come out of his time, {66a} but what did he then?

Wise. Why, he went home to his Father, and he like a loving and tender-hearted Father received him into his house.

Atten. And how did he carry it there?

Wise. Why, the reason why he went home, {66b} was, for Money to set up for himself, he staied but a little at home, but that little while that he did stay, he refrained himself {66c} as well he could, and did not so much discover himself to be base, for fear his Father should take distaste, and so should refuse, or for a while forbear to give him money.

Yet even then he would have his times, and companions, and the fill of his lusts with them, but he used to blind all with this, he was glad to see his old acquaintance, and they as glad to see him, and he could not in civility but accomodate them with a bottle or two of Wine, or a dozen or two of Drink.

Atten. And did the old man give him money to set up with?

Wise. Yes, above two hundred pounds.

Atten. Therein, I think, the old man was out. Had I been his Father, I would have held him a little at staves-end, till I had had far better proof of his manners to be good; (for I perceive that his Father did know what a naughty boy he had been, both by what he used to do at home, and because he changed a good Master for a bad, &c.) He should not therefore have given him money so soon. What if he had pinched a little, and gone to Journey-work for a time, that he might have known what a penny was, by his earning of it? Then, in all probability, he had known better how to have spent it: Yea, and by that time perhaps, have better considered with himself, how to have lived in the world. Ay, and who knows but he might have come to himself with the Prodigal, and have asked God and his Father forgiveness for the villanies that he had committed against them. {66d}

Wise. If his Father could also have blessed this manner of dealing to him, and have made it effectual for the ends that you have propounded; then I should have thought as you. But alas, alas, you talk as if you never knew, or had at this present forgot what the bowels and compassions of a Father are. Why did you not serve your own son so? But ‘tis evident enough, that we are better at giving good counsel to others, than we are at taking good counsel our selves. {67a} But mine honest neighbour, suppose that Mr. Badmans Father had done as you say, and by so doing had driven his son to ill courses, what had he bettered either himself or his son in so doing?

Atten. That’s true, but it doth not follow, that if the Father had done as I said, the son would have done as you suppose. But if he had done as you have supposed, what had he done worse than what he hath done already? {67b}

Wise. He had done bad enough, that’s true. But suppose his Father had given him no Money, and suppose that young Badman had taken a pett thereat, and in an anger had gone beyond Sea, and his Father had neither seen him, nor heard of him more. Or suppose that of a mad and headstrong stomach he had gone to the Highway for money, and so had brought himself to the Gallows, and his Father and Family to great contempt, or if by so doing he had not brought himself to that end, yet he had added to all his wickedness, such and such evils besides: And what comfort could his Father have had in this?

Besides, when his Father had done for him what he could, with desire to make him an honest man, he would then, whether his son had proved honest or no, have laid down his head with far more peace, than if he had taken your Counsel.

Atten. Nay I think I should not a been forward to have given advice in the cause; but truly you have given me such an account of his vilianies, that the hearing thereof has made me angry with him.

Wise. In an angry mood we may soon out-shoot our selves, but poor wretch, as he is, he is gone to his place. But, as I said, when a good Father hath done what he can for a bad Child, and that Child shall prove never the better, he will lie down with far more peace, than if through severity, he had driven him to inconveniencies.

I remember that I have heard of a good woman, that had (as this old man) a bad and ungodly {68a} son, and she prayed for him, counselled him, and carried it Motherly to him for several years together; but still he remained bad. At last, upon a time, after she had been at prayer, as she was wont, for his conversion, she comes to him, and thus, or to this effect, begins again to admonish him. Son, said she, Thou hast been and art a wicked Child, thou hast cost me many a prayer and tear, and yet thou remainest wicked. Well, I have done my duty, I have done what I can to save thee; now I am satisfied, that if I shall see thee damned at the day of Judgment, I shall be so far off from being grieved for thee, that I shall rejoyce to hear the sentence of thy damnation at that day: And it converted him.

I tell you, that if Parents carry it lovingly towards their Children, mixing their Mercies with loving Rebukes and their loving Rebukes with Fatherly and Motherly Compassions, they are more likely to save their Children, than by being churlish and severe toward them: but if they do not save them, if their mercy doth them no good, yet it will greatly ease them at the day of death, to consider; I have done by love as much as I could, to save and deliver my child from Hell.

Atten. Well I yield. But pray let us return again to Mr. Badman: You say, that his Father gave him a piece of money that he might set up for himself.

Wise. Yes, his Father did give him a piece of money, and he did set up, {68b} and almost as soon set down again: for he was not long set up, but by his ill managing of his matters at home, together with his extravagant expences abroad, he was got so far into debt, and had so little in his shop to pay, that he was hard put to it to keep himself out of prison. But when his Creditors understood that he was about to marry, and in a fair way to get a rich Wife, they said among themselves, We will not be hasty with him, if he gets a rich Wife he will pay us all.

Atten. But how could he so quickly run out, for I perceive ‘twas in little time, by what you say?

Wise. ‘Twas in little time indeed, I think he was not above two years and a half in doing of it: but the reason {69a} is apparent; for he being a wild young man, and now having the bridle loose before him, and being wholly subjected to his lusts and vices, he gave himself up to the way of his heart, and to the sight of his eye, forgetting that for all these things God will bring him to Judgment; {69b} and he that doth thus, you may be sure, shall not be able long to stand on his leggs.

Besides, he had now an addition of {69c} new companions; companions you must think, most like himself in Manners, and so such that cared not who sunk, if they themselves might swim. These would often be haunting of him, and of his shop too when he was absent. They would commonly egg him to the Ale-house, but yet make him Jack-pay-for-all; They would be borrowing also money of him, but take no care to pay again, except it was with more of their company, which also he liked very well; and so his poverty came like one that travelleth, and his want like an armed man.

But all the while they studied his temper; {69d} he loved to be flattered, praised and commanded for Wit, Manhood, and Personage; and this was like stroking him over the face. Thus they Collogued with him, and got yet more and more into him, and so (like Horse-leaches) they drew away that little that his father had given him, and brought him quickly down, almost to dwell next dore to the begger.

Atten. Then was the saying of the wise man fulfilled, He that keepeth company with harlots, and a companion of fools, shall be destroyed. {69e}

Wise. Ay, and that too, A companion of riotous persons shameth his father; {69f} For he, poor man, had both grief and shame, to see how his son (now at his own hand) behaved himself in the enjoyment of those good things, in and under the lawfull use of which he might have lived to Gods glory, his own comfort, and credit among his neighbours. But he that followeth vain persons, shall have poverty enough. {69g} The way that he took, led him directly into this condition; for who can expect other things of one that follows such courses? Besides, when he was in his Shop, he could not abide to be doing; He was naturally given to Idleness: He loved to live high, but his hands refused to labour; and what else can the end of such an one be, but that which the wise man saith? The Drunkard and the Glutton shall come to poverty, and drowsiness shall cloath a man with rags. {70a}

Atten. But now, methinks, when he was