Of Bunyan's character there can be but one opinion, he was a truly Apostolic man. As no one's diction is more forcible, unadulterated Saxon, so no life has better expressed the sturdy, sterling virtues of the Englishman. A wider culture would have enriched both his mind and his writings, but with the probable result of turning a remarkable man into an ordinary one. His good sense and his humility are illustrated by a charming anecdote. 'Ah, Mr. Bunyan,' said a grateful hearer, 'that was a sweet sermon!' 'You need not tell me that,' replied Bunyan, 'the devil whispered it to me before I was well out of the pulpit.' It is unnecessary to dwell at any great length upon the characteristics of so famous and universally known a book as _Pilgrim's Progress_. Though professedly a vision, and treating of spiritual things, it ranks with _Robinson Crusoe_ and _Gulliver's Travels_ as one of the great realistic books of the English language. All three are examples of the possibility of rendering scenes wholly imaginary, and in fact impossible, truer to the apprehension than experience itself by the narrator's own air of absolute conviction, and by unswerving fidelity to truth of detail. In Bunyan's case the triumph is the more remarkable, as his personages are not even imaginary men and women, but mere embodiments of moral or theological qualities. Yet Faithful and Hopeful are as real as Crusoe and Friday. Before he began to write he must have realized what he wished to describe with a vividness only conceivable by regarding it as an outward expression of his own spiritual experience. He had himself been Christian and Faithful and the captive in Doubting Castle; he had gazed on Vanity Fair, and passed through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. The fact that his allegory is in truth an autobiography explains what Macaulay calls the characteristic peculiarity of _Pilgrim's Progress_: 'it is the only work of its kind which possesses a strong human interest. Other allegories only amuse the fancy. The allegory of Bunyan has been read by many thousands with tears.' Elsewhere he says, '_Pilgrim's Progress_ is perhaps the only book about which, after the lapse of a hundred years, the educated minority has come over to the opinion of the common people.' It may be added that _Pilgrim's Progress_, unlike other celebrated works, is a _bona fide_ and unmistakable allegory. _Don Quixote_ may have a much deeper purpose than that of satirizing chivalric romances, but not one reader in a hundred cares to fathom it. Spenser undoubtedly intended to shadow forth Elizabeth in Gloriana; but the perception of the poet's purpose contributes nothing to the enjoyment of his poem. In Bunyan, however, the allegory is the book, too plain to be overlooked by the most careless reader; and all the minor allegories that combine to enrich the main action are equally apparent for what they are, and yet the obvious invention has all the force of reality. 'Bunyan,' says