'I made haste and delayed not.'--_David_.
John Bunyan shall himself introduce, describe, and characterise this
varlet, this devil's ally and accomplice, this ancient enemy of Mansoul,
whose name is Ill-pause. Well, this same Ill-pause, says our author, was
the orator of Diabolus on all difficult occasions, nor took Diabolus any
other one with him on difficult occasions, but just Ill-pause alone. And
always when Diabolus had any special plot a-foot against Mansoul, and
when the thing went as Diabolus would have it go, then would Ill-pause
stand up, for he was Diabolus his orator. When Mansoul was under siege
of Emmanuel his four noble captains sent a message to the men of the town
that if they would only throw Ill-pause over the wall to them, that they
might reward him according to his works, then they would hold a parley
with the city; but if this varlet was to be let live in the city, then,
why, the city must see to the consequences. At which Diabolus, who was
there present, was loth to lose his orator, because, had the four
captains once laid their fingers on Ill-pause, be sure his master had
lost his orator. And, then, in the last assault, we read that Ill-pause,
the orator that came along with Diabolus, he also received a grievous
wound in the head, some say that his brain-pan was cracked. This, at any
rate, I have taken notice of, that never after this was he able to do
that mischief to Mansoul as he had done in times past. And then there
was also at Eye-gate that Ill-pause of whom you have heard before. The
same was he that was orator to Diabolus. He did much mischief to the
town of Mansoul, till at last he fell by the hand of the Captain Good-
hope.
1. Well, to begin with, this Ill-pause was a filthy Diabolonian varlet;
a treacherous and a villainous old varlet, the author of the _Holy War_
calls him. Now, what is a varlet? Well, a varlet is just a broken-down
old valet. A varlet is a valet who has come down, and down, and down,
and down again in the world, till, from once having been the servant and
the trusty friend of the very best of masters, he has come to be the ally
and accomplice of the very worst of masters. His first name, the name of
his first office, still sticks to him, indeed; but, like himself, and
with himself, his name has become depraved and corrupted till you would
not know it. A varlet, then, is just short and sharp for a scoundrel who
is ready for anything; and the worse the thing is the more ready he is
for it. There are riff-raff and refuse always about who are ready to
volunteer for any filibustering expedition; and that full as much for the
sheer devilry of the enterprise as for any real profit it is to be to
themselves. Wherever mischief is to be done, there your true varlet is
sure to turn up. Well, just such a land-shark was this Ill-pause, who
was such an ally and accomplice to Diabolus that he had need for no
other. What possible certificate in evil could exceed this--that the
devil took not any with him when he went out on his worst errand but this
same Ill-pause, who was his orator on all his most difficult occasions?
2. Ill-pause was a varlet, then, and he was also an orator. Now, an
orator, as you know, is a great speaker. An orator is a man who has the
excellent and influential gift of public speech. And on great occasions
in public life when people are to be instructed, and impressed, and
moved, and won over, then the great orator sets up his platform.
Quintilian teaches us in his _Institutes_ that it is only a good man who
can be a really great orator. What would that fine writer have said had
he lived to read the _Holy War_, and seen the most successful of all
orators that ever opened a mouth, and who was all the time a diabolical
old varlet? What would the author of _The Education of an Orator_ have
said to that? Diabolus did not on every occasion bring up his great
orator Ill-pause. He did not always come up himself, and he did not
always send up Ill-pause. It was only on difficult occasions that both
Diabolus and his orator also came up. You do not hear your great
preachers every Sabbath. They would not long remain great preachers, and
you would soon cease to pay any attention to them, if they were always in
the pulpit. Neither do you have your great orators at every street
corner. Their masters only build theatres for them when some great
occasion arises in the land, and when the best wisdom must straightway be
spoken to the people and in the best way. Then you bring up Quintilian's
orator if you have him at your call. As Diabolus has done from time to
time with his great and almost always successful orator Ill-pause. On
difficult occasions he came himself on the scene and Ill-pause with him.
On such difficult occasions as in the Garden of Eden; as when Noah was
told to make haste and build an ark; as also when Abraham was told to
make haste and leave his father's house; when Jacob was bid remember and
pay the vow he had made when his trouble was upon him; as also when
Joseph had to flee for what was better than life; and on that memorable
occasion when David sent Joab out against Rabbah, but David tarried still
at Jerusalem. On all these essential, first-class, and difficult
occasions the old serpent brought up Ill-pause. As also when our Lord
was in the wilderness; when He set His face to go up to Jerusalem; when
He saw certain Greeks among them that came up to the passover; as also
again and again in the Garden. As also on crucial occasions in your own
life. As when you had been told not to eat, not to touch, and not even
to look at the forbidden fruit, then Ill-pause, the devil's orator, came
to you and said that it was a tree to be desired. And, you shall not
surely die. As also when you were moved to terror and to tears under a
Sabbath, or under a sermon, or at some death-bed, or on your own sick-
bed--Ill-pause got you to put off till a more convenient season your
admitted need of repentance and reformation and peace with God. On such
difficult occasions as these the devil took Ill-pause to help him with
you, and the result, from the devil's point of view, has justified his
confidence in his orator. When Ill-pause gets his new honours paid him
in hell; when there is a new joy in hell over another sinner that has not
yet repented, your name will be heard sounding among the infernal cheers.
Just think of your baptismal name and your pet name at home giving them
joy to-night at their supper in hell! And yet one would not at first
sight think that such triumphs and such toasts, such medals, and clasps,
and garters were to be won on earth or in hell just by saying such simple-
sounding and such commonplace things as those are for which Ill-pause
receives his decorations. 'Take time,' he says. 'Yes,' he admits, 'but
there is no such hurry; to-morrow will do; next year will do; after you
are old will do quite as well. The darkness shall cover you, and your
sin will not find you out. Christ died for sin, and it is a faithful
saying that His blood will cleanse you later on from all this sin.'
Everyday and well-known words, indeed, but a true orator is seen in
nothing more than in this, that he can take up what everybody knows and
says, and put it so as to carry everybody captive. One of Quintilian's
own orators has said that a great speaker only gives back to his hearers
in flood what they have already given to him in vapour.
3. 'I was always pleased,' says Calvin, 'with that saying of Chrysostom,
"The foundation of our philosophy is humility"; and yet more pleased with
that of Augustine: "As," says he, "the rhetorician being asked, What was
the first thing in the rules of eloquence? he answered, Pronunciation;
what was the second? Pronunciation; what was the third? and still he
answered, Pronunciation. So if you would ask me concerning the precepts
of the Christian religion, I would answer, firstly, secondly, thirdly,
and for ever, Humility."' And when Ill-pause opened his elocutionary
school for the young orators of hell, he is reported to have said this to
them in his opening address, 'There are only three things in my school,'
he said; 'three rules, and no more to be called rules. The first is
Delay, the second is Delay, and the third is Delay. Study the art of
delay, my sons; make all your studies to tell on how to make the fools
delay. Only get those to whom your master sends you to delay, and you
will not need to envy me my laurels; you will soon have a shining crown
of your own. Get the father to delay teaching his little boy how to
pray. Get him on any pretext you can invent to put off speaking in
private to his son about his soul. Get him to delegate all that to the
minister. And then by hook or by crook get that son as he grows up to
put off the Lord's Supper. And after that you will easily get him to put
off purity and prayer till he is a married man and at the head of a
house. Only get the idea of a more convenient season well into their
heads, and their game is up, and your spurs are won. Take their arm in
yours, as I used to do, at their church door, if you are posted there,
and say to them as they come out that to-morrow will be time enough to
give what they had thought of giving while they were still in their pew
and the minister or missionary was still in the pulpit. Only, as you
value your master's praises and the applause of all this place, keep
them, at any cost, from striking while the iron is hot. Let them fill
their hearts, and their mouths too, if it gives them any comfort, with
the best intentions; only, my scholars, remember that the beginning and
middle and end of your office is by hook or by crook to secure delay.'
And a great crop of young orators sprang up ready for their work under
that teaching and out of the persuasionary school of Ill-pause. In fine,
Mansoul desired some time in which to prepare its answer.'
There are many men among ourselves who have been bedevilled out of their
best life, out of the salvation of their souls, and out of all that
constitutes and accompanies salvation now for many years. And still
their sin-deceived hearts are saying to them to-night, Take time! For
many years, every new year, every birthday, and, for a long time, every
Communion-day, they were just about to be done with their besetting sin;
and now all the years lie behind them, one long downward road all paved,
down to this Sabbath night, with the best intentions. And, still, as if
that were not enough, that same varlet is squat at their ear. Well, my
very miserable brother, you have long talked about the end of an old year
and the beginning of a new year as being your set time for repentance and
for reformation. Let all the weight of those so many remorseful years
fall on your heart at the close of this year, and at last compel you to
take the step that should have been taken, oh! so many unhappy years ago!
Go straight home then, to-night, shut your door, and, after so many
desecrated Sabbath nights, God will still meet you in your secret
chamber. As soon as you shut your door God will be with you, and you
will be with God. With GOD! Think of it, my brother, and the thing is
done. With GOD! And then tell Him all. And if any one knocks at your
door, say that there is Some One with you to-night, and that you cannot
come down. And continue till you have told it all to God. He knows it
all already; but that is one of Ill-pause's sophistries still in your
heart. Tell your Father it all. Tell Him how many years it is. Tell
Him all that you so well remember over all those wild, miserable, mad,
remorseful years. Tell Him that you have not had one really happy, one
really satisfied day all those years, and tell Him that you have spent
all, and are now no longer a young man; youth and health and self-respect
and self-command are all gone, till you are a shipwreck rather than a
man. And tell Him that if He will take you back that you are to-night at
His feet.
4. 'We seldom overcome any one vice perfectly,' complains A Kempis. And,
again, 'If only every new year we would root out but one vice.' Well,
now, what do you say to that, my true and very brethren? What do you say
to that? Here we are, by God's grace and long-suffering to usward, near
the end of another year, another vicious year; and why have we been borne
with through so many vicious years but that we should now cease from vice
and begin to learn virtue? Why are we here over Ill-pause this Sabbath
night? Why, but that we should shake off that varlet liar before another
new year. That is the whole reason why we have been spared to see this
Sabbath night. God decreed it for us that we should have this text and
this discourse here to-night, and that is the reason why you and I have
been so unaccountably spared so long. Let us select one vice for the axe
then to-night, and give God in heaven the satisfaction of seeing that His
long-suffering with us has not been wholly in vain. Let us lay the axe
at one vice from this night. And what one from among so many shall it
be? What is the mockery of preaching if a preacher does not practise?
And, accordingly, I have selected one vice out of my thicket for next
year. Will you do the same? The secret of the Lord is with them that
fear Him. Just make your selection and keep it to yourself, at least
till you are able this time next year to say to us--Come, all ye that
fear God, and I will tell you what He hath done for my soul. Yes, come
on, and from this day all your days on earth, and all the days of
eternity, you will thank God for John Bunyan and his _Holy War_ and his
Ill-pause. Make your selection, then, for your new axe. Attack some one
sin at this so auspicious season. Swear before God, and unknown to all
men--swear sure death, and that without any more delay, to that selected
sin. Never once, all your days, do that sin again. Determine never once
to do it again. Determine that by prayer, by secret, and at the same
time outspoken, prayer on your knees. Determine it by faith in the
cleansing blood and renewing spirit of Jesus Christ. Determine it by
fear of instant death, and by sure hope of everlasting life. Determine
it by reasons, and motives, and arguments, and encouragements known to no-
one but yourself, and to be suspected by no human being. Name the doomed
sin. Denounce it. Execrate it. Execute it. Draw a line across your
short and uncertain life, and say to that besetting and presumptuous sin,
Hitherto, and no further! Do not say you cannot do it. You can if you
only will. You can if you only choose. And smiting down that one sin
will loosen and shake down the whole evil fabric of sin. Breaking but
that one link will break the whole of Satan's snare and evil fetter. Here
is A Kempis's forest of vices out of which he hewed down one every year.
Restless lust, outward senses, empty phantoms, always longing to get,
always sparing to give, careless as to talk, unwilling to sit silent,
eager for food, wakeful for news, weary of a good book, quick to anger,
easy of offence at my neighbour, and too ready to judge him, too merry
over prosperity, and too gloomy, fretful, and peevish in adversity; so
often making good rules for my future life, and coming so little speed
with them all, and so on. And, in facing even such a terrible thicket as
that, let not even an old man absolutely despair. At forty, at sixty, at
threescore and ten, let not an old penitent despair. Only take axe in
hand and see if the sun does not stand still upon Gibeon, and the moon in
the valley of Ajalon till you have avenged yourself on your enemies. And
always when you stop to wipe your brow, and to whet the edge of your axe,
and to wet your lips with water, keep on saying things like those of
another great sinner deep in his thicket of vice, say this: O God, he
said, Thou hast not cut off as a weaver my life, nor from day even to
night hast Thou made an end of me. But Thou hast vouchsafed to me life
and breath even to this hour from childhood, youth, and hitherto even
unto old age. He holdeth our soul in life, and suffereth not our feet to
slide, rescuing me from perils, sicknesses, poverty, bondage, public
shame, evil chances; keeping me from perishing in my sins, and waiting
patiently for my full conversion. Glory be to Thee, O Lord, glory to
Thee, for Thine incomprehensible and unimaginable goodness toward me of
all sinners far and away the most unworthy. The voices and the concert
of voices of angels and men be to Thee; the concert of all thy saints in
heaven and of all Thy creatures in heaven and on earth; and of me,
beneath their feet an unworthy and wretched sinner, Thy abject creature;
my praise also, now, in this day and hour, and every day till my last
breath, and till the end of this world, and then to all eternity, where
they cease not saying, To Him who loved us, Amen!